#how long until he tries to go back to Crowley and this time I think he’ll actually have to do any amt of work to earn Crowleys forgiveness

[blog--witch]

Okay!!!!!!!!! I watched GO2!!!!!!!!! I’m once again feeling insane

[another-random-paradise]

Hello everything is fine? I just found your account and I'm already in love!!!

I loved your sleepy confession writing post, if it doesn't bother you and only if you want, could you do it for Kalim, Jamil and Ruggie? They are so cute!!! >w<

Oh, and sorry if the English is wrong, it's not my first language...

An even sleepier confession

Thank you for the request and the sweet words!! And don’t worry about your English, it’s great! Plus, it isn’t my first language either, so i get the struggle, haha! :)

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Crush!Reader sleepily telling him, they want to marry him / part one

Characters: Kalim, Jamil, Ruggie

Format: Headcanons

Warnings: None that i can think off

Kalim 

-Chances are, you were at one of his party’s, stayed late, and are too tired to go back to ramshackle 

-so, Kalim being Kalim, annoys convinces Jamil to let you two have a sleepover. The absolute energy boost Kalim gets after getting permission already makes Jamil regret his decision..

-after a long night of story telling (with how many siblings Kalim has, he definitely always has tea to spill), pillow fights, and movie marathons, you finally decide to go to sleep, much to Jamils relief

-Just before you two fall asleep though, you unconsciously make one last comment “Life is always so fun with you, really makes me wanna marry you one day..”

-If you thought you’d get any sleep after a comment like that, you’re wrong! Because Kalim is now wide awake and practically yelling in excitement 

-He’d be asking you if you really meant it, before talking about how you’ll have to meet his family first, especially all his siblings! They’ll love you!! Why don’t you come with him over the next Holidays?! All while being all over you, kind of like an exited puppy are those ears and a tail??, meanwhile you’re just sitting there like ‘oh shit, I said that out loud?!’ 

-It’ll only get worse if you confirm that, yes, you do, in fact, want to be with him and maybe, hopefully, marry him one day 

-Jamil storms in, thinking you two were getting assassinated or something, only to see Kalim hugging you, practically shaking in excitement, talking about all the dates he’ll take you on (and about your wedding of course)

-you sheepishly look over at Jamil, who is staring daggers into you, the message clear ‘you couldn’t have waited until morning?’. If looks could kill, Jamil would have cut you into a three course meal just now :D 

-Jamil tells him to quiet down, so the rest of the dorm can rest

-Kalim continues to whisper-yell, till eventually you two fall asleep cuddling 

-the next day, half the school already knows about your now relationship, partially because the entirety of scarabia could hear him, and partially because Kalim can’t keep his mouth shut-

-He is so hung up on that marriage comment, that he might accidentally introduce you as his fiancée a few times!

Jamil

-you, being the kind soul that you are, probably decided to help him out with his chores around Scarabia 

-But unlike him, you aren’t used to so much work, No matter how much Crowley tries to overwork you so eventually you’re just straight up exhausted.

-Jamil brings you to one of the many couches, but he makes sure it’s one away from the business of the dorm, he wouldn’t want you to be disturbed while you sleep he cares to much about you for that

-He picks up the few dirty plates some other students left behind, as you get comfortable, which is a very easy task, considering all those silk blankets and soft pillows! You mumble something a mere second before falling asleep. “You’re so caring, Jamil… makes me want to marry you even more than i already to..”

-Jamil halts in his tracks, he almost drops the plates he was carrying! Partially because he’s flustered, but also because a part of him hoped you wouldn’t like him back and the crush would pass.. not that it ever would have

-He is lost in thought as he makes his way to the kitchen, he almost even runs into another student

-Jamil likes you, he really does, there’s no doubt there, but he’s worried more than anything. He doesn’t have time for love!

-not only would you distract him from keeping Kalim from accidentally getting himself killed, but his work would mean that he’d have little to no time to spend with you.. not to mention if you get married, you and your future children would be forced to work for the Asim family too- Unless..

-If he takes you’re last name, instead of him yours, neither of you would be a part of the Viper name any longer. Instead of him enslaving you into service, you could free him from his life of servitude.

-And you always find ways to hang out, despite how busy he is

-He continues to work, now with a smile on his face. 

-Maybe this could work out after all :)

Ruggie

-Another one who you were probably helping with work

-Usually he’d refuse help, he doesn’t want to be indebted to anyone, but hey, it’s an excuse to spend more time with you, so he’ll make an exception 

-Afterwards, your beat.. even after book 3 and knowing him for a while, you never could have guessed how much work just one certain Lion could make.

-He lays down next to you, either making a sarcastic or teasing comment as he does.

-As always, you laugh in response, but this time you follow it up with “You’re a great guy, you know that? I hope i get to marry you one day..”

-His usual smug smirk, is gone. Just like that. It’s replaced by absolute shock

-He turns to you, to question you about it, only to see you’re already in the land of dreams 

-Ruggie doesn’t know how to feel, He is shocked, flustered, and most of all, confused. Yes, he is happy that you like him back, it just confuses him.

-You’re in a school filled with rich guys and literal Royalty. So, by the seven, why would you like a guy like him? Especially since your first meeting was literally him stealing a sandwich from your son friend! 

-But it makes him smile, in a school filled with rich people, someone as amazing as you, still chooses him, so he must be really great, right?

-Now he’s even more determined to get a good job, so that he can give you and your possible children a good life!

-He just hopes his Grandma and the kids will like you.. nah, he’s sure they will, you’re you! 

-He won’t immediately make his move to ask you out, but he’s definitely working on it! He would be a bit more hesitant about asking you out (Even after you basically asked to marry him) if you’re a girl, as in nature male hyenas are naturally more submissive towards the female they’re trying to court 

This was so much fun to write, thank you so much for the request!!

Feedback is welcomed, just please be nice!! Hope you all have a nice day <3

[etheries1015]

How TWST characters react to finding out your real name

They hadn't realized you were using a fake name or a nickname, and when they find out you hadn't told them your real name, they each reacted in their own way.

Featuring : Idia, Lilia, Crowley, Ace/deuce/grim (together) , Azul/jade/Floyd (together), Malleus, Epel, Rook, Vil, Kalim, Jamil

Idia - Fair. Its like using a fake in game name only in real life, who needs to know your real name? It's not that important, it doesn't change that you're still you. But he is glad that you trusted him with your real name, but now he's a little possessive, and doesn't like it when other people use your real name. Its HIS privilege to know the you behind the character! (He wants his y/n moment and he gets some sort of fulfillment knowing he was the first to learn your true name. Like he's in some sort of otome game)

Lilia- he raises an eyebrow and has an amused smile on his face. He wasn't expecting you to feel the need to hide your identity, were you some sort of refugee? Hiding from something? You then explain to him you simply didnt feel comfortable sharing your real name with a bunch of strangers since coming to twisted wonderland, and he was easily able to accept that answer. He calls you by whatever name you prefer, it makes no difference to him, and he quickly gets over it. (If he wants to get your attention and tease you, he will use your real name)

Malleus- A little bit...hurt, in a way? You couldn't trust him with your real name? He knew others thought he was scary and didnt trust him for his lineage, however he had to remind himself that you were different than them. You were kind and understanding, and he had to push back his childish thinking. He did the same thing in fact, hiding his name from you until learning far after your meeting. Perhaps you had your reasons as well, and he respects that, and warms his heart slightly coming to terms that you had entrusted him with that information. He uses whatever name you feel the most at ease of hearing, but there will be times in which you two are alone and he gets in his feelings. Hearing your name sound so sincere and loving coming from his lips makes it sound sweeter than you remember.

Azul + the Leech brothers- Shocked. Flabbergasted. You did it in such a cool way too, you signed his contract using a name he wasn't familiar with. "You are aware that using a fake name won't do you any good, Right?" He had pointed out. You gave him a smirk and crossed your arms, "Who says its fake? In fact, the name I signed is indeed my REAL name. I thought I might as well use my real name, to show how confident I am that your little tricks will not fool me." Jade simply smiled and nodded in approval, whilst Floyd began laughing hysterically at Azuls reaction (his mouth hung open. He just convinced himself you had an inflated ego.) Needless to say, they will not forget that moment in a while.

Crowley- Blames you and says "Well of course I couldn't find your records anywhere or continue with my investigation on your case, you didnt even give me an accurate name to go by!" (In reality he wasn't doing anything to help you, he just thought this gave him an out and more time to think of something. You knew this.) The gaslighting king, and good at making you feel bad for not enrolling into the school by providing your full real name. You rolled your eyes and kept doing what you were doing (slay)

Kalim- he gets super excited, and fully respects you by any name you go by. He showers you in compliments and says its such a nice and fitting name for a person such as yourself. He smiles brightly and locks arms with you; "(fake name) or (real name), they both suit you well! You're still the prefect I love, regardless of what name you use!" .... But then he starts to ask you why, and it turns into an hour long conversation about names. (Probably tries to suggest names that would suit you)

Jamil- A little surprised at first, however he never made a big deal out of it and didnt care much. He shrugged and continued using the name you had given him, its what you chose to go by, is it not? So he will continue to do so. (Inwardly he understands why you hid your true identity, but also thinks its silly in a way. Why would you go so long without sharing something as small as a name? But it was a one time thought, and never dwelled on those questions.)

Vil- Also doesn't make a big deal out of it. Your name suits you well, he will ask what you prefer to go by, however. If you aren't comfortable using your real name, who is he to judge? He asks you once about why you chose to use a fake name, and he respected it. "Or I can just call you prefect, if you prefer? Your title precedes your name, and it's a form of respect. How does that sound?" You chuckle and say that you trust him enough to be on a first name base, and he responds with a slight blush. You really know how to see past his professionalism.

Rook- Add it to his list of things he knows about people and probably knows too much about people. He stores it in his mind along side with your weight, your height, your frequented places in the school, your gym scores, the height you can jump, how fast you finish your lunch, how big your hand is, your shoe size, how many hairs are on your head... "magnifique! I just love learning new things about you, it never ceases to amaze the mysteries you hold! Please, tell me more!"

Epel- A little bit disappointed you hadn't told him sooner. He gets over it quickly, but he was still a little upset to hear that he was one of the last people to find out what your real name is! Not that it truly matters, but a persons name is a persons treasure, and he wanted a part of the great reveal! (It wasn't THAT great. It came up casually, he's just a little sentimental and dramatic sometimes.) He ends up carving your name out of an apple, he says he made it cause' he was bored and no other reason, but in reality he really likes your name more than he leads on.

Ace/deuce/Grim- What do you MEAN that the past year they have been calling you by a FAKE/NICKNAME This entire time?? Do you have that little faith in them???? When you explained to them you had simply rolled with it when you first arrived to twisted wonderland and became accustomed to it, the name flowed off your tongue as natural as breathing. It had nothing to do with trust as time went on. They were all so dramatic about it though. "Our Prefect LIED to us!" They cried out, prostrating themselves on the floor and demanding you buy them food in to compensate 'the emotional damages' they claimed you inflicted upon them. You rolled your eyes and laughed playfully as the three of them whined about your "distrust" in them.

You loved them nonetheless, those morons 💜

---

A link to my master list!

[ultravi0lence14]

All I Want Is You

demon!dean winchester x fem!reader

1.3k | angst

summary: as dean finds himself turned into a demon, the only thing that seems to be on his mind is getting back to you. but did you really know the extent he would take to achieve that?

dean was in a frenzy, and all he wanted was to get back to you.

the memory of your skin on his kept him awake at night, tossing and turning until the sun rose and his hair was a crazed mess in his fingers.

it had been weeks since metatron had killed the eldest winchester. awakening the mark on his arm and turning him into a black eyed devil. he had left in a rush with crowley, not even saying goodbye to you or sam as the older demon whisked him away to go have some fun.

but his mind was a constant replay of your face, your voice, the feeling of your lips on his. all dean wanted was to have you back in his arms, and the weighing feeling on his demonic heart had him springing up in the middle of the night and ditching crowley to go and find you.

wherever he went, a line of bodies would follow behind him. his bar outings never stopped, and sometimes he just needed to blow off some steam by driving the first blade into some poor man’s chest.

he never got into bed with anyone though, for the thought of having anyone but you made him sick to his stomach. even as a demon, dean was forever loyal to you and only you. he hadn’t slept with any other woman in the three years you’d been together, and he wasn’t going to change that just because of the circumstances he was in now.

when he’d finally made it to the outskirts of the bunker, dean knew he couldn’t just go barging in. sam would try to save him, would try to keep you and him apart. he needed to find you first, needed to talk to you before sam tried to do anything.

driving into town, dean looked everywhere for any signs of you. when he noticed your car outside of a quaint bookshop, he didn’t hesitate to pull up in the spot beside yours, instantly making a beeline for the store.

dean lurked around the corners of the isles, trying to look for you while also attempting to keep his cover. he didn’t know if sam had joined you or not, and he didn’t want to be spotted by his brother before he could even see you.

turning a corner, dean finally caught sight of your long hair and defined side profile. even though he was a demon, he could still feel the air escape his lungs and the mood change around him. seeing you for the first time in weeks had him feeling things he’s never felt before. all dean wanted to do was run up to you and wrap his arms around your body. though his actions were halted as another man came into view from the other side of the isle and walked right over to you.

an instant feeling of rage took over dean’s senses. how dare this man talk to his girl? how dare he even be near her. little to dean’s knowledge, the man was simply just a customer. his only reason for talking to you was that he noticed the book you held in your hand was the one he was looking for, and he was wondering if there were anymore copies left.

the demon inside of dean didn’t understand that. so after the man left the store, dean followed him outside and brutally stabbed him with the first blade in a nearby alleyway.

something wasn’t right. you could feel that something terrible was happening, you just couldn’t place your finger on it. the recent murders in town had startled both you and sam, but you didn’t think that was what had you all worried.

that was until you started to think a little deeper.

turns out, each and every victim was someone you had encountered not even 24 hours before their timely death. the man from the bookstore, the cashier at the supermarket who made a gross comment on your outfit, even the nice old man who helped you at the flower shop had turned up slaughtered in a gruesome way.

you couldn’t understand why people you had interacted with for no more than a mere five minutes were being found dead in such graphic ways. if it wasn’t for sam suggesting that dean might have a play in all of it, you wouldn’t even bat an eye in his direction.

no, you didn’t want to believe it. why would dean do this? to taunt you? dean was your boyfriend, the man you had loved for three years now, and nothing was going to change that. you and sam wanted to cure him, make him human again. him going around killing men who just talked to you had tears welling in your eyes, for the thought of how dean would react when he became human again broke your heart.

it had been a week since the murders started, and you tried to keep a distance from any men when you went out. it was for their own safety, for you knew that if dean noticed they’d be dead by sunrise.

but sam had an idea, and with his idea came you flirting with a random man in hopes of luring dean out.

unsurprisingly it worked. after the man had left you bar, you and sam followed him outside to where dean promptly ambushed him, almost landing a stab on his gut if it wasn’t for sam tackling him to the ground and knocking the blade out of dean’s hand.

the two brothers fought for some time, and when you made sure that the stranger was long gone, you grabbed the first blade and made a deal in shouting loudly to get dean’s attention.

instantly at the sound of your voice, dean pushed sam aside and stared longingly at you, pleading heavily to give you the blade back. but you weren’t budging, the only way you would give dean winchester the first blade was over your dead body.

“dean.” you started, moving slightly closer to where he stood. “i know what you’ve been doing. killing men i’ve talked to. but that’s not going to get me back dean. it’s just going to push me away.” your words had dean deflating, an angry look taking over his eyes as he now started to circle you.

“push you away? are you kidding me Y/N! i did it for you! all of it was for you! how can’t you see that?” at that point you’d realized that in dean’s demonic hazed brain, he believed that killing any man that got in his way to you would somehow have you crawling back to him.

that wasn’t going to work on you. all you wanted was your dean back. the dean who still watched scooby doo and wore punny socks, not the man who slaughtered innocent people just to get your attention.

somewhere deep down, you knew that dean’s love for you was still there. he wouldn’t be doing all of this if a part of him didn’t still care for you. but saving dean was you and sam’s number one priority, and getting dean back to his actual self would be all you wanted at the moment.

smiling softly, you whispered ‘i know’ just as sam hit dean over the head with a wooden beam, knocking him unconscious on the ground.

you knelt down beside him as sam put the demon cuffs on his wrists, allowing you to help him haul dean into the back of the impala, starting your journey back to the bunker to cure him.

turning around in your seat, you looked at dean’s closed eyes and parted lips as you stroked his cheek. smiling sadly as sam started the car. “don’t worry, dean. we’re going to help you.” a kiss was landed on his forehead before you turned back around, placing your head on the window as the journey towards his recovery came to the end.

[shiplessoceans]

Good Omens S2 Episode 6 confession scene speculation:

Aziraphale didn't respond to the love confession from Crowley because he didn't realise it was one until Crowley mentioned the Nightingale and kissed him.

Allow me to explain.

---

Aziraphale interrupted Crowley to give him the news from Metatron, so when Crowley starts his spiel:

"We've been together a long time, I could always rely on you...we're a group....we've spent our existence pretending we aren't...if Gabriel and Beelzebub can go off together then we can...we don't need heaven/hell they're toxic...you and me whatya say?"

Aziraphale interprets everything Crowley is saying as his rebuttal to the 'good news', not a separate declaration of his feelings.

What Aziraphale just told him shaped Crowley's confession, instead of finally telling Aziraphale how he feels about him, he's now backed into a corner and trying to change Aziraphales mind. Offering to run off with him as the alternative to the Metatron's offer.

The repetition of the phrase: "go off together" from the bandstand fight in season one feels very intentional here. It would be easy for Aziraphale to think 'this is just Crowley's response when the divine plan interferes, he always wants to run away'.

Aziraphale believes that he just needs to make Crowley understand the situation and opportunity that this is and everything will be alright:

"Come with me! To heaven, I can run it, you can be my second in command. We can make a difference!"

Crowley is looking defeated already, in his mind he's bared his soul and Aziraphale is a brick wall. So if he can't tempt the angel into staying with the love he has for him (which Crowley thinks he's declared but he really hasn't), he'll get him to change his mind by evoking something else he loves:

"You can't leave this bookshop."

Aziraphale scoffs fondly. 'Silly demon, you were just suggesting we run off together and abandon it only a moment ago!' He thinks Crowley is trying to 'work' him here and the old serpent might even be selflessly trying to spare the angel the loss of his beloved bookshop in order to restore Crowley and help the world, which would be just like him to be so covertly protective. So Aziraphale reassures him, a bookshop doesn't matter to him as much as Crowley and the world. It's just a collection of objects really. Humanity is more important. Crowley is far more important.

"Oh Crowley, nothing lasts forever."

Crowley is crushed. Nothing lasts forever. Not even the two of them. So he covers his sadness with his glasses, walls back up, and he tries to leave.

Aziraphale is baffled. He just reassured Crowley that he was alright with change if it means things could be better. Why is Crowley leaving? Is he worried that they won't spend time together anymore? That he won't have time for his friend as a supreme archangel?

"Crowley come back!....we can be together, angels!...I need you!"

Crowley can't even look at him in that moment. Why would Aziraphale say that? The two of them together only if he accepts heaven again? Conditional love? That's not fair. It hurts.

Aziraphale meanwhile is hurt by Crowley's turning away, his silence and a bit incensed at what he perceives as ingratitude. Aziraphale didn't really want to go back to heaven, but he'd do it if it meant Crowley could be happy and safe and Crowley doesn't seem to appreciate that:

"I don't think you understand what I'm offering you."

Crowley went through the fall. He asked the questions. Did his best to protect humanity and it has brought him nothing but suffering. He's well aware what's on offer. He's seen heavens cruelty and capriciousness firsthand and been burned by it repeatedly. How can Aziraphale choose them over him and still think everything will work out?

"I understand. I think I understand a whole lot better than you do."

Crowley loves Aziraphale's big foolish optimism and kind heart and he thinks it's the very thing taking the angel away from him. This isn't how it was supposed to go. It's all slipping away from him.

"Listen. You hear that?"

Aziraphale can't even keep up at this point.

This is what comes of thousands of years of 'not talking about it' and living under threat of holy retribution if they are discovered. They're talking past each other, having two different conversations. Obfuscation and code has become their communication medium by necessity and it's failing them.

It's frustrating Aziraphale that he can't get a grip on this conversation:

"I don't hear anything!"

And Crowley drops the bomb.

"That's the point. No Nightingale's."

Oh. Suddenly we're on the same page. You can see from Aziraphale's face that he understands to what Crowley's referring. The Nightingale in Berkely square. Angels dining at the Ritz...

"You idiot! We could have been... us."

Crowley's talking about the big unspoken thing between them. Their relationship, thousands of years of dancing around each other like binary stars gravitationally and inexorably drawn together over and over. The thing Aziraphale was beginning to be bold about, (dancing notwithstanding) before Metatron came along and distracted him.

And it seems to Aziraphale that gut-wrenchingly, Crowley is finally acknowledging their mutual love only to point out that it's gone. Lost. They could have finally been together, an us, but Aziraphale ruined it because he's an 'idiot'.

After being quietly in love with Crowley for years, for Aziraphale to have his offer to return to heaven together and his unspoken love rejected in one fell swoop is devastating.

Overcome, he begins to cry and turns away, not wanting Crowley to see how hurt he is.

Crowley for his part is desperate. He has to do something. Maybe Aziraphale doesn't understand what Crowley is offering him! One fabulous kiss and va-voom right?

In a final desperate act, he kisses Aziraphale. Tries for passionate. Tries to show him that he loves him and show him what they could be because his words clearly aren't working.

Aziraphale is shocked and angry. He wants to kiss Crowley of course. But not like this. Not as a taunt. Crowley just told him their chance is over so what else could this be but a final insult. A kiss to punish the angel. It's a cruelty he didn't believe Crowley capable of.

And despite how mean it is. It's also what Aziraphale has wanted for so long he can't help but melt into it for a brief moment. Allow himself to feel what it would have been like to be that close before losing it forever.

Then Crowley lets go and Aziraphale breaks away on a sob, feeling wounded. Hurt beyond words that Crowley would use his feelings against him like this, gutted to be losing the man he loves and not understanding why.

The worst part is that Aziraphale doesn't have it in him to hate Crowley, even if he thinks the kiss was a cruel gesture. He still loves him. So he gathers himself and does what Aziraphale does when someone hurts him.

He forgives.

"I forgive you."

I forgive you for rejecting my attempt to restore you and make you happy, I forgive you for rejecting God and heaven yet again, I forgive you for acknowledging our love and then rejecting it. I forgive you for kissing me, giving me a fleeting glimpse of what we could have been to each other. I love you and I forgive you all that.

Crowley is done. Breath knocked out of him on a last sigh. He tried. And the Angel forgave him yet again for something he never asked or wanted forgiveness for. He doesn't want to be penitent for loving Aziraphale. Shouldn't have to apologise or regret wanting them to be together.

"Don't bother."

Aziraphale looks surprised Crowley is leaving because he genuinely is. He can't understand how it's all gone so horribly wrong. He gasps, shocked and can't even call out to him to stop, come back.

He cries, touches his lips where Crowley had kissed him. Tries to gather himself and barely has 10 seconds before Metatron is back.

At the end of that scene:

Crowley thinks he confessed his love and Aziraphale chose heaven over him because he didn't want to stop being a demon.

Aziraphale thinks Crowley rejected heaven, then rejected Aziraphale and threw their love back in his face as a final unkindness.

Aziraphale leaves and goes to heaven anyway because in his mind he's already lost Crowley and there is nothing left to stay for. If he doesn't have Crowley he needs a new purpose and it's going to be saving the world. He'll convince himself of it. And he'll push that broken heart down and the pain will fade if he just smiles through it. It will be enough, to make heaven better. It has to be. Maybe if he proves that he can make a difference Crowley might see the error of his ways and speak to him again? Surely. Hopefully.

---

Both of them are hurt and confused and lost and oh dear hell I really feel for them.

[createserenity]

I won’t leave you on your own.

Right, this might be controversial, or I might be the only one who sees this moment in this way, but I need to talk about this now. It’s really sweet when Crowley says this, except what happens afterwards isn’t sweet at all. And can I just add right now that I love both Azirpahale and Crowley, they’re both wonderful and also brillianty flawed, I don’t hate either of them. But as far as I’m concerned Crowley behaves really stupidly here.

GIF by ladybokatankryze

C: I’m going to get the humans out of here and then I’m coming back. I won’t leave you on your own. A: I know.

Oh dear, Crowley. Why did you leave him on his own after saying this? Why did you let Aziraphale down? Why does no one talk about the fact that you did? You walked out that bookshop and Aziraphale was so confident you would come back that he expressed this confidence to the humans and then defended his reliance on you, “Crowley will have a plan,” “Rescuing me makes him so happy.”

But you didn’t come back, Crowley! Why? You left the bookshop, spotted Muriel and then in some super weird ADHD* move just left Aziraphale to sort out the demon problem on his own whilst you went off to heaven. Whyyyyy?

Now okay. I admit, Crowley was working towards the ultimate goal of finding out what the heck had happened to Gabriel, which was something that needed to be done. He spotted the opportunity, knew it probably wouldn’t come up again and so took it. He did what probably needed to be done. He also did it expecting that the demons wouldn’t ever be able to enter the bookshop because Aziraphale was never going to say they could come in. It’s not his fault Maggie is an idiot. I still love him and so does Aziraphale. Also Aziraphale is perfectly capable of defending himself in some ways and we see this after Crowley leaves…

BUT. What a mistake.

He basically left Aziraphale on his own to fight the demons. An Aziraphale who trusted so absolutely that Crowley would come back, and that Crowley would know what to do, that he hadn’t bothered to come up with the whole plan himself. He didn’t have to. Aziraphale and Crowley are a team, they work together and they don’t let each other down.

Except this time Crowley did.

It’s unclear exactly how long Crowley spent in heaven watching the trial etc but since the ball starts at 6.30pm and the demons seem to turn up not that long into the evening, we can assume it’s a really long time. By the time he comes back it’s very clearly morning again, the entire night has passed. Maybe Crowley didn’t intend to be away that long, maybe he expected his jaunt to heaven to be quicker, or maybe this is because time passes differently in heaven and Crowley had no way of knowing exactly what time he’d return to earth, but whatever the reason, he leaves Aziraphale alone for a really long time, after explicitly stating that he won’t leave him on his own.

By the time he does turn up it’s long after the battle is over and long after Aziraphale has been forced to take an action he really didn’t want to take in order to defend himself and the bookshop.

Just look at Aziraphale’s face when Crowley returns, he isn’t super delighted to see him, he's sort of happy, but more looks like he can’t believe Crowley is actually there.

When he says, “You came back!” he sounds kind of surprised and also perhaps relieved. Why? Because he’s given up on Crowley coming back by that point. He has no idea what has happened to him or why he let him down so badly.

I think we can fairly safely assume that Aziraphale and Crowley can sense at least to some extent where the other one is when they are both on earth if they try to do so, and it’s probable that at some point after sorting out the demon problem Aziraphale had wondered where Crowley had gone and tried to sense him, so likely he knows Crowley has been away from the earth. What he doesn’t know is where he’s been or whether he went there willingly (at least until he turns up with a bunch of angels, at which point he’s intelligent enough to work it out).**

So now he knows where Crowley went, but he doesn’t know why or what he discovered. He’s still in the “Crowley let me down,” space at this point. Then Crowley asks what happened to the demons and Aziraphale has to tell him he blew up his halo. Crowley finds this delightful and he laughs, but for once they aren’t laughing together. This is only the second time that we have seen Crowley laugh at Aziraphale (the first is when he mocks him about thinking he’s a demon after the Job thing, which he quickly stops doing and switches to being kind when he realises how upset Aziraphale is). When he laughs about the halo he doesn’t mean it to be mocking, it’s actually the same disbelieving reaction that he does on the walls of Eden about the flaming sword, except magnified, he doesn’t just do a single “you what?” of disbelief and amusement as he does in Eden, he properly laughs because he knows Aziraphale better and thinks their relationship can take the laughter.

Usually he’d be right, but the problem is he’s just let Aziraphale down. So while he isn’t really mocking Aziraphale, because he loves that Aziraphale does these unexpected and wonderful things, Aziraphale doesn’t like the laugh at all. Look at his face. He glares at Crowley and his look very much is one of, “if you’d come back like you said you would, if you hadn’t let me down, I probably wouldn’t have had to do it at all.”

Then since Crowley rather stupidly doesn’t read the reaction and stop laughing the look changes more to, “I’m really upset about all this, please, please don’t laugh at me, you’re hurting me.”*** It's only shown briefly so it's difficult to capture, but you can just catch this in his expression before the camera cuts back to Crowley, and then again for a second when it recuts to Aziraphale, just before he reacts to the arrival of the demons.

Basically, Aziraphale is really fucking pissed off and upset with Crowley at this point. (Side note, Maggie and Nina look less than impressed by the laughter too – even they know it’s not the right reaction.)

If you need anymore evidence of how annoyed he is, look at how far away he stays from Crowley whilst he’s laughing. Aziraphale never stands that far away from him!

Luckily for Crowley Aziraphale is very good at forgiveness, and also very much likes it when Crowley takes charge of a situation and thankfully Crowley finally steps up. Whilst Aziraphale worries about what he’s done (look at the tension in his hands) Crowley categorically declares there will be no war and the demons react by listening to him. You can see Aziraphale start to reconnect with Crowley, his eyes flick back to him and then once Shax is up and awake his hands relax and he closes the distance between him and Crowley, angling his body towards him and standing close to him again.

Crowley is going to sort things out and Aziraphale’s faith in him is easily restored, although without doubt it’s suffered some damage underneath.

So what does this all mean? Well, firstly Crowley hurts Aziraphale deeply here and doesn’t realise he’s done it (and this is the second hurt he’s caused him within the space of a few days). Aziraphale forgives him pretty quickly, because Crowley unknowingly repairs things and Aziraphale is so full of love that it will take more than this one transgression to break their bond.

What it does mean though is that Aziraphale has just had a reminder of the demonic nature of demons shoved in his face. Crowley has just hurt him in several different ways in the space of a very short time. I doubt he consciously sees this as demonic because by this point I don’t think he really even thinks of Crowley as a demon on a day to day basis, but I do think he is responding to that hurt in a very human way.

Look, if your partner left you in a sticky situation and told you they would be back immediately and then didn’t turn back up for hours wouldn’t you be pissed off? Even if nothing happened (if Maggie had never let the demons in for example) you’d still have a few things to say about your partner’s hours of absence – yes, even if they had just unveiled a huge clue about why the whole situation was happening in the first place. That wouldn’t undo all your thoughts about how they let you down really badly and left you on your own in a terrible situation.

Another issue is Shax’s demonic nature – specifically how Shax has hurt him during the attack on the bookshop. If Crowley had been there there’s no way Shax would have had even half a second to get in her jibes to Aziraphale, but he’s not there and Shax gets her chance. What she does is play on Aziraphale’s fears about Crowley’s feelings for him (right at a time when Crowley is letting him down) and also remind Aziraphale of some of the ways in which he is a less-than-stella angel (as a side note I find it really interesting that Shax seems to have this ability to look at people and see their worst fears about themselves – do all demons have that or does every demon have a slightly different ‘power’?) So now Aziraphale has been let down by Crowley, which has directly led to Shax hurting him, and had his worst fears about his own nature brought to the forefront of his mind.

He’s been let down, mocked and emotionally wounded, and he goes into the conversation with the Metatron carrying that hurt, only to hear the Metatron singing his praises and telling him he’s, “the perfect angel for the job”. The Metatron deliberately soothes Aziraphale’s worst fears about himself in order to manipulate him. I’m not saying Aziraphale doesn’t see through it or that he is completely taken in by it or that this is his motivation for accepting the job, I think there’s more to it than that, but well… something to think about?

Mainly though, Crowley acts in a bit of a daft way here. His jaunt to heaven is funny and useful for moving the mystery along, but in terms of his relationship with Aziraphale it's an absolute disaster of a move. I'd want the "I was wrong" dance as an apology for that one if it was me. Just saying.

[most-normal-eccles-cake-ignorer]

Good Omens: Lockdown and Crowley not mentioning his living situation in S2*

*till S2E6 when he asks if he can have his apartment back bc he's bored of living in his car but Aziraphale doesn’t hear bc mentally he’s in Alpha Centauri.

Having read the 'Crowley doesn't tell him' Neil Gaiman ask close to when I first listened to Lockdown (I lived under a rock until recently), my initial thought was HAS HE BEEN LIVING IN HIS CAR FOR YEARS?! but I think he was still in his apartment in 2020:

as far as Hell knows, Crowley just had a pool party in holy water (the holiest) so the higher-ups are probably willing to give him some space (plus Beelzebub is busy going on pub dates w Gabriel)

while there should be ~8 months between the end of Season 1 events (The Very First Day of the Rest of Their Lives on Sunday, Aug 25, 2019) and the Lockdown phonecall (on or near the 30 year anniversary on May 1, 2020), I can't imagine that's a very long time for Hell, especially if you're understaffed and busy dealing with fallout from Almostgeddon / going on pub dates

Shax dropping off mail and asking about the boiler seems like something one does in the first few months of living somewhere, not ~3 years in (if S2 is in 2023)

That said, I think the phone call underlines why Crowley never directly tells Aziraphale that he is living in the Bentley in S2, and it's just a great conversation (all hail Gaiman) sooo I wrote about it:

***Note: This post analyzes the Lockdown phonecall from Crowley's perspective only. Our heroine is feeling quite emotionally vulnerable at this point in time so things are going to hit him harder than they normally would.

I do not think Aziraphale meant to cause him pain (!!) but Crowley can't see that yet and I've written this post in a way that reflects that missing insight. (I explain in more detail in this reblog if you are interested) I am working on a companion post for Aziraphale's side of this conversation and how I think it affects his behavior in S2 because if we know anything about these two, it's that their exactlys are different exactlys.***

Crowley’s habit of sleeping to skip time like an RPG character by a campfire amuses me to no end, but in this context it feels heavy. Crowley already worries about losing time with what he loves and he probably hoped things would be different between him and Aziraphale after the events of S1. But things don’t change much. Then lockdowns start, and Crowley is trapped in his apartment alone, transcendentally bored, and unable to make his brain shut up. Sleeping a month away starts to sound less awful.

But Crowley hasn’t given up yet; he’s still awake when Aziraphale calls, and he’s even giving it two more days. Was he waiting for Aziraphale to call? Is it even possible not to at least kind of wait for someone’s call when you are cut off from everything and the caller has been your only friend and crush for millennia?

Aziraphale asks why Crowley isn't "out and about" tempting people or setting a bad example and he responds:

C: Everyone's so miserable and cooped up right now anyway, and I just… well… don't have the heart for it. A: *glowing audibly* I'm not miserable~ C: Really?

Crowley sounds genuinely surprised at Aziraphale's happiness and quickly assumes it's because the angel has been around people. He's so lonely/depressed/in his own head that he hadn't even considered someone enjoying being 'cooped up'. *sob*

Aziraphale goes No actually I put the closed sign up in the window and I'm having the Time of My Life, never had so few customers, not in 200 years!, etc. Although, he says:

A: …There were a few young lads a couple of nights ago who broke in through the back and tried to steal the cashbox! But they soon saw the error of their ways~ C: *clearly amused* Did you smite them with your wroth? A: Well I certainly gave them a good talking to, and I sent each of them home with cake~ C: *annoyed, swooning* Cake? A: Quite a lot of cake, actually. C: *physically ill from having such a giant crush on this dumbass baker/security guard* eeeekkkgghhh I'm gonna regret asking but.. ...rrgh.. *30 seconds of Aziraphale joyfully describing his baking while Crowley probably tries very hard not to imagine the angel eating each item in sensual slow motion* I stg you can hear him struggling in the background once or twice

A: …And once I've baked them, I have to eat them all myself, which was why I was so delighted— C: To send your burglars home laden with baked goods, yes, nnyeaayeah I follow…

Crowley interrupts, finishing Aziraphale's sentence in his nervous hurry to say the next bit:

C: *loud inhale* You know, I could.. hunker down at your place. … Slither over and watch you eat cake. I could bring a bottle--a case of… something… drinkable…?

He's trying to sound so casual about it but this is someone who was rejected/abandoned by actual literal God after asking what he thought were welcome, uncontroversial questions. Asking makes him vulnerable. He's supposed to be the rescuer, not a demon in distress. He does not feel casual about asking.

Crowley knows it's unlikely but he's so miserable and desperate for company that he can't help but ask, just in case. Even the smallest chance of spending time trapped indoors with Aziraphale—with nothing to do but drink, watch him eat, and talk about things they'd normally avoid—is too tempting.

A: *panicking* Oh I— I— I— I— I'm afraid that would be Breaking All The Rules! *nervous breathing* Out of the question! I'll see you… when this is over. C: Right. gnnehh. I'm setting the alarm clock for July. Good night, angel. *dial tone*

And just like that, Crowley doesn't need two days to decide. The depression nap doubles in length. He doesn't hear how badly Aziraphale wants to say yes behind the fear, or maybe he does and it hurts worse because why isn't Crowley enough for him? You can almost hear the spiralling:

SHOCKING, asking made it worse. It always does doesn’t it? Why even bother? you just embarrass yourself.. SLITHER over? why did I say that *grumble grumble* of COURSE His Holy Holiness, your only friend in the universe, would rather eat cake by himself while everything goes to shit than ~deign~ to have you in his presence. "AsK aND yE sHaLl ReCeIvE" bugger this for a lark im going to bed

(a bit dramatic but we've all been there)

I imagine sleep doesn't come right away. Maybe his thoughts drift to when he sat beside the angel at a dark Tadfield bus stop after a rather eventful Saturday. Crowley must've felt a tiny bit hopeful when he invited Aziraphale to stay with him: Heaven had withdrawn its favor and the bookshop was gone; Aziraphale was like him now. Didn't that mean things would change?

"I don't think my side would like that." Apparently not.

In the end, Aziraphale did ride the bus back to Crowley's apartment and stayed till the next morning when he caught a cab, but only to sell the illusion. Crowley understood that as far as sides went, the angel was still on Heaven's, even if Heaven wasn't on his.

And now this: the entire world is shut down; there is nothing for Aziraphale to do but stay in and read and bake in his magically reconstituted bookshop and he still won't invite Crowley in. Burglars and un-fallen angels only—nobody who asks questions.

So... of course Crowley doesn't tell Aziraphale when he loses his apartment. He already knows what answer he would get; the angel has told him so many times. Aziraphale is a company man first, a companion to one very sad owl when convenient.

If Crowley works up the courage to say 'please take me in, I have nowhere else to go' and Aziraphale goes 'sorry, no, far too political, but I WILL risk being erased from the Book of Life to protect this nude amnesiac former coworker who always hated me,' it's going to be too much. You can't sleep long enough for that type of hurt to go away. Better not to say anything.

"Then nothing has to change, does it?"

[dalliancekay]

We've been talking for millions of years

Aziraphale was clearly taken by Angel!Crowley from the moment he met him. I think the 6000 years could be read as when the whole human breeding thing starts. Even God says there's been many nice days in the Garden. How many? The count didn't start until the day they left Eden I think. When we meet Aziraphale and Angel!Crowley in Before the Beginning, Earth was still an idea in the works. And the War didn't happen. Or Crowley surely would have been more cautious. So I hope they have met and talked and Crowley grumbled about how unfair it all was.

And Aziraphale tried to placate him that it will all work out somehow, there’s a Plan. And they kept meeting, Crowley showing Aziraphale the prettiest corners of the universe, Aziraphale telling Crowley exciting developments re: Earth.

I wouldn’t try to guess at how far their relationship has gone… maybe relationships of the kind we know now weren’t invented yet and still, these two loved each other without knowing anything about it. After all, no other angels seem to have ANY relationships of any kind. Apart from higher or lower levels of condescension towards each other.

Then the Great War came and tore them apart. After knowing each other for millions of years and their close more-than-friendship, their world falls apart. After all, Crowley tried to do the right thing. And Aziraphale did too but it wasn’t to be. Yet. But. Their story wasn’t finished yet.

Aziraphale is relieved when he’s sent down to Earth to guard the brand new humans from the demons he has heard that the damned angels have been turned into. He’s a bit fearful about the whole thing but glad to be away and keen, if a bit anxious to see the project he’s discussed/worked on for so long.

Crowley hates Hell. He hates it cos it’s not what he wanted or what he thought he was joining. He has been lied to. He’s not regretting his decision to turn his back on Heaven, no. He still thinks they’ve made too many crappy decisions. But he despises what the Rebellion became.

When Beelzebub asks for a volunteer to go up to the new planet and tempt the fresh innocent human couple into joining them, he volunteers, even if only to escape the claustrophobic walls and the mess nobody ever clears up.

Tempting comes easy to him. He imagines talking to his lost friend. ‘But why wouldn’t you try fruit from this one tree. What’s the problem with knowing things anyway? Wouldn’t you want to decide by yourself Eve? And Eve does make a decision.

Crowley’s worried now. Not for himself. He’s without hope but did he hurt humans by doing this. He didn’t mean to. He doesn’t really want them to go to Hell. Or Heaven for that matter. He only thinks they should be free to make their own choices. If only he had someone to talk to.

He spotted a distant angel earlier. Reminded him of, of… the light hair...anyway. They held a flaming sword but surely he can dodge that if needs be. He could just try for a simple chat. He has no idea how demons are talked about in Heaven. But he guesses the angel might just try to smite him. Worth the risk. Everything feels so raw and strange here. Maybe stealing a bit of familiarity will help him settle his nerves.

He decides to slither over and ask how the angel feels about what’s been done. Will they be furious. Hurt? Guilty? Oh. It’s him. It’s too late now. Always too late. It’s him. Aziraphale. Aziraphale. It is HIS angel. What is he going to do. FUCK! Well. No better way to find out. He could just tease him like the old times. What's the worst that can happen.

Shitfuck but he smells good. These new senses will take a while to get used to: “Well that went down like a lead balloon.” A lead balloon? Whatthefuck even is that. Oh for Someone's sake.

Aziraphale’s standing on top of the Garden wall, squeezing his fingers with worry - what exactly has happened. What has possessed him to give away his sword. Did he disappoint God? Heaven? It doesn’t FEEL wrong to help them. If only he had someone to talk to.

Another angel? What. A snake? Oh. Oh. They are changing. Could it be? His heart will surely explode into million pieces…!!!! A lead balloon?!? “Sorry what was that?” Does he remember me? I think he does. I think he does. He’s here. As lovely as always.

I’ll keep him safe. Safe. I will keep him safe this time.

[snail-migraine]

hello !! please delete / ignore if this validates your rules !! ^ __ ^

Platonic Yandere Malleus & child [name] . .

and [name] may or may not be a brat . . and probably failing school ( it’s college so no wonder !!)

preferably he / him prns but you can do whatever :] thank you !! there’s just not enough platonic yanderes in twstfandom . .

Of course! I'd be more than happy to this. The platonic yandere is a trope thats very unexplored, so I'd love to do one! Thanks for the Ask!

-

Anon-Yan💌.‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

Platonic Yandere Malleus

So since there were no specifics on who reader might be [Just that reader is Malleus's Child] let's just say that reader is Malleus's adopted child, but is still Fae. Just not a draconic fae.

Malleus as Yandere father is super-overprotective. The phrase "Helicopter Parent" Doesn't even begin to describe this man.

Maybe it was due all of the neglect he suffered through as a child, but this man absolutely refuse to give you any sort of privacy or space. Even as a teenager.

He just hates the idea of you feeling lonely so he spends practically every second he can with you, even at you're own expense.

Malleus is also petrified of losing you, Lillia is closing in on his own death, Silver never had very long compared to Malleus, and Sebek is half human, meaning he will never live as long as Malleus.

You're the only other family he has aside from his grandmother, he's not letting you go easily.

Malleus is one of those people who can't help but spoil their children, he'd hate to start yelling at his precious baby.

Maybe all that spoiling is how you got the way you are. Entitled and bratty.

When you first started going to school Malleus would get complaints from teachers on just how terrible you would be to the other kids.

But he refused to believe his precious baby was so awful. Especially when you started [fake] crying, saying that the teachers and other students here were mean to you.

"How dare you accuse my child of such terrible acts! My child would never do such a thing. They are nothing but a sweetheart. If I ever hear such a blatant lie fall from your lips ever again, the consequences will result in your immediate execution. Understand?"

Those poor teachers man.

Malleus babies you so much it isn't until Lillia, Silver, Sebek, and his grandmother hold an intervention that he'll start being a little hard on you.

But even then, if you start crying he'll back down.

It's ironic that somebody so strong breaks so easily at the slightest little swell of your tear-ducts.

Life goes on like this for a long time, with you causing trouble and Malleus brushing it off like it's nothing.

It isn't until you're a teenager and enrolled in Night Raven College that you finally cross the line.

"Mr. Draconia, I don't what it is but your child seems hellbent on becoming one of the worst students this school has ever seen!", Crowley exclaims, "Just last week they destroyed on of Diasomnia's numerous gargoyles! Even with my genius expertise, I can't keep them under control."

You keep your arms crossed and blow a peice of hair out of your face. 'That crow is still yapping.' You think to yourself, annoyed about having to listen to some lousy headmaster blab on and on about how you were sooooo terrible. As if the guy really thought that the Malleus Draconia would ever listen to his bullshit.

Dad always took your side, any second now that crow would finally shut his mouth and your dad would finally get you out of this dump.

Crowley jumps in his seat when a strike of thunder hits outside. 'There it is.' Dad always hated it when people accused you. The frown on your face lightens to a devious smirk.

"Ehem.", Crowley tries to regain his composure, "I believe if they're behavior doesn't change I'll have to expel them."

Thats when Malleus finally snaps, but he doesn't make it clear to you, or Crowley. But God is he pissed. He's spent all this time babying and treating you like the little royal he knows you should be, but look at you! Nothing but a troublemaker with no respect for anyone or anything around you. Has he really failed as father this badly?

You know what? It doesn't matter anymore, cause guess what? He's no longer going to baby you, you're almost an adult for sevens sake! And you've got the intelligence of two year old.

"That's fine, Headmaster Crowley." He says, trying to keep his demeanor calm despite the now raging storm outside. "I think it's best that from now on I start home-schooling them anyways."

His curls his fists into his lap.

"Thank you for your time, we'll be getting Their things now and removing them from campus. Have a good day Crowley." And with that he grabs you by the wrist and yanks you out of the room.

He didn't even let you grab your things, he just pulled you to the mirror and sent both of you back to Briar Valley. Once there, he continues pulling you around by your arm until he gets to one of old dungeon cells put high up in a tower. There he finally lets you go by throwing you in. When you try to ask why he's doing this he shushes you with his glare. Pointed and sharp.

He may be father, but he's not going to play nice.

He takes a deep breathe, a crackle of green thunder booms from outside the old brick walls of the castle, before he speaks up.

"You disappoint me. I have given you nothing but love and generosity in the hopes that you would turn out as a kind, loving, and respectful person."

You're at a loss for words as you try to say something, anything, but he glares at you once more and shushes you.

"You are a member of the Draconia Family. There are rules and guidelines we must follow, we can not go around acting like brats and destroying anything we like. And until you adhere to those simple rules, you will no longer be treated as a royal.", His tone was sharper than the deadliest knife. And his words made you more scared of your father than you'd ever been before.

"Your time will be spent either studying or cleaning. In your down time you will be making your food and no servant will be tending to you. Do you understand?" You could only nod dumbly as actual tears welled in your eyes. The sight made him grimace.

"..I love you my dear, but you are a Draconia. And you need to start acting like it." He said, almost as though he was trying to comfort you. Before turning on his heel and walking down the winding steps out of the tower.

[faebaex]

Tangled in Wonderland - Library Liaison

author note: Winner of the first 1000 follower event poll was Riddle! every time I write Riddle, I forget how much I enjoy writing him (≧◡≦) he’s such an interesting, complex character. I hope I do him justice, I think he deserves it. Next up is Leona, who won the second poll and the Octavinelle poll is currently running, so go check it out if you haven’t seen it already! Enjoy~

characters: Riddle Rosehearts x GN!Reader

You sat, staring into space in the Ramshackle dorm lounge. The ruined interior really helped you zone out, your mind still reeling after the odd situation that you found yourself in.

Despite your best endeavours, your life in Twisted Wonderland had so far proceeded exactly as it had for the main character. The chandelier still ended up breaking, you still ended up going to the dwarf mine and getting attacked by the overblot monster and, in the end, you ended up becoming a joint student with Grim. You had developed a rocky friendship with both Ace and Deuce, despite how you tried to distance yourself from them. It wasn’t anything personal, you just sort of hoped that the events in the game wouldn’t occur if you kept yourself low profile and didn’t get close to any of the game’s named characters.

Unfortunately, so far that plan hadn’t worked out.

Ace still ended up coming to your dorm, collar and all, complaining about his housewarden. You had attempted to slow the inevitable ride to disaster, even suggesting that Ace and Deuce transfer and become students of Ramshackle dorm in an attempt to cool the tensions. But your suggestions fell on deaf ears, and Ace and Deuce ended up challenging Riddle to the housewarden duel that ended up resulting in his overblot. Safe to say, your attempts at laying low and floating undetected through the student body weren’t going well so far.

And to top it all off, Crowley had been avoiding you, as you had been using any opportunity to ambush him and ask him if he had made any progress on finding a way home for you. If Crowley’s monumental negligence in the game was anything to go by, he likely wasn’t even looking into it, so the least you could do was make his life as miserable as possible. When you weren’t accosting Crowley, you spent every spare moment you had in the library.

Every day, you’d comb the library for any material that even had a hint of information about your situation. You were always surrounded by books, piled high around you as you poured over the often-dry material. You’d entirely absconded from any of your schoolwork, leaving that particular gambit to Grim. Whilst diligence wasn’t Grim’s strong point, there was nothing bribery with a can of premium tuna couldn’t solve. So from after classes to when you could barely keep your eyes open any longer, you were huddled in a discreet spot in the library, an agreement with one of the library ghosts meaning that this table was basically reserved for you.

It was just another day for you at the library, surrounded by dusty tomes that obviously hadn’t been touched in who knows how long. You were currently absorbed in a publication about summoning magic, so absorbed in fact that you didn’t notice the figure who had approached your table until they cleared their throat.

“Hello prefect. I see you are in the library again today.”

You froze in your seat, reluctantly looking up to see Riddle standing at the opposite side of your desk. With a purse of your lips, you nodded once before lowering your eyes back down to your book. “Yup.” You responded flatly, turning to the next page, not seeing Riddle fidget awkwardly in front of you.

“You are very studious, prefect. I’ve seen you in the library every day for the past two weeks, Ace and Deuce could stand to learn a thing from you,” Riddle remarked, reaching out and settling a hand on the chair opposite yours, readying to pull it out, “may I?”

“Um… I’d rather you didn’t, actually.” You responded, looking up from your textbook again with a neutral expression. Riddle’s hand froze on the chair and for a moment he looked like a deer caught in lamplights, before his grip tightened on the back of the chair.

“I… See…” Riddle mumbled, and an awkward silence settled between you. You gave a small, cold smile, hoping that Riddle would get the hint and leave, and he did turn, but hesitated and turned back to you, a conflicted frown on his face. “Have I… Offended you in some way, prefect?” Riddle broached and internally you sighed, wishing the pile of books surrounding you would tumble down and hide you from this awkward situation.

“Well… When you throw a tree at someone, its hard not to take it personally.” You quipped coolly, turning your eyes back down to your book and trying to find the line you were on, hoping that Riddle would finally leave you alone. But as ever since you had gotten into this world, luck was not on your side.

Riddle looked absolutely mortified by your comment, and to your chagrin, he pulled out the chair opposite you and sat down, leaning forward in an attempt to keep your conversation as private as possible. “I-I’m sorry if I’ve given you a negative impression… I’m aware that my behaviour was unacceptable and—”

“Look, Riddle,” you sighed, grabbing a spare bookmark so that you didn’t lose your place, considering Riddle seemed to have no intention of leaving you in peace anytime soon, “it’s nothing personal. Really, it isn’t. I just…” You sighed again, putting your head in your hands and rubbing your temples for a moment, “its hard for me adjusting to life here, so I prefer to spend my time alone. I hope you understand.” Once again, silence fell between you and you found yourself shifting impatiently in your chair. You didn’t hate Riddle, not at all. How could you? Riddle had very compelling reasons to be the way he was, and you knew that after his overblot incident, he did make deliberate steps to change and accept his flaws. But… You had your own world to get back to and if being cold and unwelcoming was what it took for you to get back there, then so be it.

“I- I’m sorry, Y/N. I had no idea that you were feeling that way… I should have realised that given your situation…” Riddle trailed off, and the two of you once again lapsed into silence. You shifted in your chair uncomfortably again, exhaling heavily before you began to speak again, “Riddle, its fine—”

“You’re welcome in Heartslabyul, anytime. I would offer you a dorm room but we are at full capacity and I don’t expect that to change anytime soon.” Riddle stated, with the same air of finality that he spoke most things with, and you ended up blinking at him in surprise. “O-oh, that’s really not necessary—”

“I… I may not be the best person to preach about family but…” Riddle’s cheeks dusted slightly red as he continued, “I would like it if you were able to seek some solace within Heartlabyul, to help you feel more comfortable and adjust to your circumstances.” You stared at Riddle, your expression blank and hiding the turmoil of emotions that you felt inside. You were really trying your best to put on a cold front and keep distant, but Riddle just had to be so… Endearing.

“That’s… That’s really kind, Riddle. Thank you…” You mumbled, before you sighed and collapsed onto the book you were reading. “But I don’t want to adjust, I want to go home…” You complained, your voice muffled by the pages of the book. Despite finally complaining aloud about the issue that had been on your mind since you got here, it felt oddly cathartic to vent. Until you felt a tap on your head.

“Don’t lay on the book like that, Y/N, you’ll crumple the pages.” Riddle scolded, and just like that he was back to being the Heartslabyul housewarden that you knew. He tapped your head again until you leaned up, shooting him an unimpressed look as he pulled the book towards him, smoothing the pages and checking for any damage before looking over the book itself. “I thought the headmage was looking into your situation?” Riddle queried, flipping through the pages of your book with a judging eye. You resisted the urge to glower at the mention of the headmage.

“Does it seem like he’s looking into my situation?” Riddle’s eyes looked towards you briefly at your tone, but he nodded shortly once, “no comment.” Suddenly, he slammed the book in his hands shut, and you opened your mouth to complain at him for losing your page before he pushed his chair back and stood up. “There are better books on summoning magic than this one in this library, wait here a moment.” Without waiting for you to respond, Riddle was gone.

Over the next hour, Riddle had systematically gone through all the books in your ‘to read’ pile, replacing several books with other ones that he personally ferreted out himself, claiming that they would be much more appropriate for your needs than the one you currently had. You could only stare on in amazement, having no idea that he had such a breadth of knowledge about the books contained in the library. Sure, you were aware that at a young age when you were still reading picture books, he was reading hefty tomes, but watching him so easily sort through your mish mash research pile really did hammer home a respect for his character that you’d never appreciated when you’d played the game.

“Y/N are you listening? I said I’ve made you a list of the order I recommend you read in. I know you are eager to find some information that could lead you home, but if you walk before you can run, you might miss a vital clue.” Riddle lectured as he passed you a crisp white piece of paper, with his elegant script looped throughout it, “I’ve colour coded the list by subject, so you shouldn’t get anything mixed up—”

“Thank you, Riddle. Really. I truly appreciate this.” For the first time since you ended up in Twisted Wonderland, you found yourself genuinely smiling. Riddle blinked in surprise, before a red hue burst forth onto his cheeks, and he rose his hand in an attempt to hide it. “W-well, its nothing. I consider you an honorary member of Heartslabyul now, and I-i’d do this for any of the students under my leadership.” Riddle stuttered, before clearing his throat and trying to get a hold of himself, “but of course, don’t expect this to happen often. I have my own study schedule to adhere to, and its important that you develop these research skills for yourself. For your future assignments, of course.” Riddle said sternly, his usual strict demeanour starting to fall back into place. “But… If you have any questions, or need to use someone as a sounding board then… I’d be happy to lend my services.” Riddle mumbled softly, almost quiet enough for you not to catch, “b-but only if my schedule allows for it, o-of course!” He quickly added, a fresh wave of blush tinting his cheeks.

You found yourself charmed by Riddle’s generosity, your mood feeling genuinely lifted for the first time since you’d thrown yourself out of the coffin. It was odd, the warm feeling in your heart as you watched Riddle fluster, but it wasn’t unpleasant.

“Thank you, Riddle. I think I might take you up on that, sometime.”

[tartppola]

Stranded in another world, with no hope of going back or any magic to defend themselves with, this is the anecdote of the Ramshackle Prefect Yuulis Crowley's first week in another world called Twisted Wonderland.

warning : mentions of blood & dissection, didn't beta this so :P a/n : happy april fools :D

It was a chilly morning on the Night Raven College campus, and Sam’s first day coming back to the mystery shop. Oh, how he missed the purple overlay of the wallpaper; the diamond skulls and taxonomy and other knick-knacks that seamlessly blend together to form something quite avant-garde. Speaking of knick-knacks, he remembered that his new stock of goods his ‘friends’ salvaged from who knows where should be arriving today, how exciting!

His feet skipped up and about, the keys he spun around his finger chiming as he hummed a happy tune from the Port of Jubilee. Sam wonders what kind of faces the new first years would make the first time they step into the shop, or when they meet his ‘friends’ for the first time. 

Just as he was about to make a turn from Main Street, he stopped dead in his tracks. There was a pile of huge boxes at the doorstep, that must be his new goods, but there was something else, or rather, someone else. That someone–young enough to be a first year, but not wearing the school uniform–was waiting by the boxes. No student has ever been to the shop this early, and the school hasn’t allowed any of the local townsfolk to visit, so why?

“Excuse me!” Sam called out, making his way towards them, “I’m flattered that a line is already forming, but opening hours aren’t until lunch time!”

They stared blankly at him the moment he stood right in front of them. They held out a clipboard with a delivery receipt that listed the names of various magical supplies 

“I’m here to on behalf of the Headmaster,” Sam barely understood them through their thick accent, “Please double check the receipt and make sure to tell of any errors.”

Since when did the Headmaster hire any couriers.....and one so young at that. Oh well, as long as Crowley’s not breaking any child labor laws, it should be alright, shouldn’t it? The shopkeep noticed that his back grew colder and colder as he went through the new inventory. He stole a small glance at the youth, turning back immediately when he saw how intently their gaze bore through his soul.

“Phew! It’s getting pretty darn cold out here!” The hand that held his keys trembled a bit, “How about we go inside to warm ourselves up a bit?”

He took back his thoughts. This was far from alright.

“--and where do these charms go, Mr.Sam?” 

“By the aisle near the grimoires, next to the paper talismans,”

It’s been nearly half an hour of restocking, yet they haven’t left the store. Sam tried his best to breathe through the awkward atmosphere, but the tension was so thick he could harvest it, bottle it up and sell each for 500 madol. If only such a thing was possible, if only.

“Mr.Sam,” 

He felt his shadow jump to the ceiling at the sound of their voice. 

“What kind of store is this, exactly?” 

“Well, since you’ve seen my wares firsthand, should you be able to tell right away?” He put on an air of faux confidence, hoping they wouldn’t notice. 

“At first, I thought this was a magic supplies store, but none of them back at home sell dangerous herbs like oleander and wolf’s bane. How did you get a hold of this amount of them anyway?”

“Well, what can I say? There’s only so much exotic ingredients you can grow in the botanical gardens,” 

“But, there are also basic necessities like toothpaste and clothes,” They pondered, “Come to think of it, one of the new deliveries was a box of snacks, wasn’t it?”

“That’s what happens when you’re the only tuck shop in one of the most prestigious schools in the world!” He winked, “It wasn’t easy getting ahold of most of the inventory, but you gotta do what you gotta do, don’t you agree?”

A small chuckle escaped their lips, “That’s not a bad mindset for a businessman.”

In the end, no matter how eccentric they initially seemed, a child is still a child. He felt foolish for being so afraid, what could they do when he had his friends by his side?

“By the way,” it was hard to notice how much time passed by, “Shouldn’t you go back to your dorm and change into your uniform? It’s almost time for morning classes.”

“Ah, was Mr.Sam not present during the entrance ceremony? No wonder you didn’t recognize me,” 

There was some word on the street about a fiasco happening during this year’s entrance ceremony, something about the halls being lit on fire by a beast? He couldn’t believe it when  one of the friends that stayed to guard the shop told him about it.

“I was deemed unworthy to be sorted into a dorm, because I possess no magical capabilities whatsoever. It seems that there was an error during the student selection process,”

“Is that even possible?” his suave expression morphed into worry, “Then, why didn’t the Headmaster send you back home?”

“He tried, but the Mirror of Darkness said something along the lines of ‘The place from whence they came from can’t be found in this world’. 

“And so here I am, doing odd jobs and tasks on behalf of the Headmaster, the students and the staff of NRC,” Sam could hear a small sense of pride at their introduction, “I'm more capable than I look, please don’t hesitate to call upon me if you need any assistance.”

Of all the strange things to make their way into his shop, never in a million years would Sam expect an estranged secretary to be one of them, and one that possibly came from another world to boot. He had a feeling that this year was going to be much, much more eventful than any of the years to have come, and he couldn’t wait to see it all unfold.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, little demon,” The shopkeep tipped his hat in a fine, gentlemanly manner, “Make sure to drop by again, ‘till next time!”

The gap of knowledge between the first and second year was indeed a big leap to overcome, Crewel knew how unprepared his puppies were going to be.

But by the Great Seven, oh how much he overestimated them.

The likes of Riddle Rosehearts and Azul Ashengrotto couldn’t possibly make up for the utter incompetence these mutts have, even the students with subpar scores like Savanaclaw’s Ruggie Bucchi and Diasomnia’s Silver looked like geniuses. At best, there are students like Kalim al-Asim, who actually tries, yet their efforts seem to seep out through their ears the moment they leave class, then there’s the unpredictable ones like Floyd Leech.

He remembers how the eel turned in blank test papers, or how he mixes whatever ingredients he finds interesting together, bleeding the chemical supply. 2 days ago, he used up an entire month’s worth of imp spinal fluid during potions class. It’s not as if they were hard to get, but their effects are most potent when freshly harvested. The thought of harvesting it himself made him shudder; sure, he’s seen some grotesque imagery as an alchemy professor, but who knows how long it will take to restock if he made a report to Crowley?

Sigh. Looks like he’ll have to put practical sessions on hold for a while and haggle with Sam.

“Excuse me, is Professor Crewel here?” 

The door to the alchemy lab opened, bringing the professor back to reality. Someone he has never seen before let themself in, a plastic bag in hand. 

“Stay! I don’t recall allowing anyone without a lab coat to enter….!” Realization kicked in once he got a clearer look, “Huh--so it’s you, the magicless stray that caused a riot in the entrance ceremony.”

The sound of a whip resonated through the room, followed by faint chattering and murmurs from nearby students scrambling away from the alchemy lab. 

“Only authorized students and staff are allowed in the lab during school hours, didn’t the Headmaster tell you?” 

Most of his students would cower just by hearing his tone grow stern, yet they remained unfazed. Playing bold now are we? Looks like he’ll have to teach them a lesson. 

“The Headmaster,” they brought the plastic bag to his chest, “said that the lab’s storage room needed restocking.” 

Ah, was that it? Making a child do his job; how much of a slave driver was Crowley? Knowing Crowley’s tardiness, it was probably something he had already spent his paycheck on, although the bottom of the bag was unusually cold. 

Curiosity getting the better of the professor, he untied the knot and opened the bag. His face recoiled, from the shock of seeing the contents. Aurora moth’s scales--he had only requested these a few days ago! Not to mention all of that translucent mucus coating the scales, how long ago were these harvested?

“Is there something wrong, Professor?”

Crewel almost forgot about the intruder standing in front of him, “No, it’s just--this is the first time I've seen them so...fresh. The ones Crowley buys usually come preserved in bottles.”

“That may be because I just harvested them this afternoon,” they said nonchalantly.

“You--You what?!” the professor didn’t even try to mask his disgust, “You did this yourself?”

Their head tilted sideways, akin to a confused child.

“The Headmaster said that the locals needed help with pest control, so I’d thought I’d lend a hand, and they let me do whatever I wanted with the moths as payment, ” Despite having experience with that sort, Crewel’s stomach began to swirl, “The Headmaster gave me permission too,”

A scowl grew on his face. Typically a moth would've been killed humanely before their wings were plucked to relax their ligaments, but seeing the mess clinging to the wing's ends, it's clear that they didn't consider such option. He couldn't decide if they had a strong stomach to withstand seeing large bugs squirm underneath them, or an uneducated fool.

“Professor, are you alright? You look exhausted,” 

He snapped back to reality that instant, rubbing circles around his temple. Pull yourself together, Crewel, he edged himself, you’ve lost your composure twice already. Maybe he just needed a good serving of raisin butter with wine on the side, or a joyride on his prized car. He glanced back at the dismembered wings, at least he got what he wanted. Still, this has never happened before, perhaps if he could take advantage of this situation….

“Tell me, pup. Since you have...the appropriate experience to harvest wings, how good are you at dissecting imps?”

They pondered for a while. It’s the most animated he’s seen of them, “I suppose I do how to extract fluids, their lymph is a versatile ingredient in many types of salves after all. Although it has been a while since I’ve ever needed to.” 

Bingo

“Then, how about spinal fluid?”

It was their turn to be surprised, “I-I’ve never done that on an imp before. Just think of the amount of imps needed to fill a single bottle.”

“Tell you what, pup. Are you interested in a side-job?” 

Without giving them a chance to respond, Crewel tossed a few madol and a map of the campus in their direction, “There are some common imps causing trouble in the college lately coming from who knows where. If you can deal with them, I’ll give you the other half of the payment, and of course--.”

He shoved them a basket full of empty test tubes, slinging it over their shoulder, “Fill every single test tube here to the brim before tomorrow's Science Club activity, I won't take no for an answer.” 

And with that, they were pushed out of the alchemy lab. Spending their first sleepless night in another world catching imps wasn’t on their bucket list. Sighing heavily, they picked up their feet and staggered.

‘I wanted to creep him out a little,’ they thought, ‘but I ended up being the one getting creeped out.’

For such an important place, why did Crowley’s office have to be in a place so out of reach? For all his years in Night Raven College, Crewel always dreaded sending weekly reports to the Headmaster’s office, he could feel his leg muscles ache as he knocked against the two large gates. He peeked inside the office to look for the Headmaster. 

“There you are, professor! What took you so long?” 

There he was, sitting cross-legged on his desk as the portraits of the Great Seven floated up and about. Trein was there as well, as cold as usual and showing no sign of fatigue, peering at him as if he could see through everything. Maybe it was because he had a 20 year head start, either way, it was irritating how he was the only disheveled one.

“I don’t know, maybe it was the countless stairs I have to climb every week to submit a report when you can simply hire a secretary to fetch them for you?” 

The crow simply smiled, already figuring out a solution to Crewel’s ire, “How has the first week of teaching been for you, professors?”

“I don’t know which is greener, the topiary maze in the Heartslabyul dorm, or the new puppies I’m in charge of,” Crewel shook his head. 

“For once, I agree,” the history professor nodded indefinitely, Lucius yawning in his arms, “But that could be said for every first year in the history of NRC.” 

Dire nodded, “Seems like everything’s going smoothly then! I shall leave the future of our students in your capable hands!”

Both professors nodded in response, “As you wish, Headmaster.”

“Although, I’d like to inquire about something,” Crewel spoke up before raising his index finger to the large window. From above, the view of the setting sun looming over the campus could be seen, but his finger specifically pointed to Main Street, or rather;the magicless stray walking to the direction of the alchemy lab, with the basket in hand and the direbeast from before by their side.

“What are we going to do about that?”

Without needing to look, Trein simply closed his eyes, “If what the mirror spoke was true, then that child quite literally has no place to go back to. It comes to question how they even ended up here in the first place."

Crowley rubbed his chin. The ultimate decision lies with him, and honestly, there was nothing stopping him from just shirking them off his feathers and leaving them to fend for themselves, along with the cat-beast that terrorized the entrance ceremony.

"It would undoubtedly stain the reputation of our esteemed college if we just kicked them out," the Headmaster groaned, "Oh, why must I be plagued with such problems!"

"Best of luck to you then, Headmaster Crowley," The two professors turned their heels and left Crowley's office with not a care in the world, leaving him with his worries.

The Headmaster leaned against his chair and sighed against the beak of is mask. Dealing with the child was the last thing he wanted to do at this moment, with their odd mannerisms and such, however...

Being unable to return home wasn't an unfamiliar conundrum to the Headmaster.

Perhaps it's his boundless generosity speaking to him, but there was a pang of heavy emotion in his chest that told him he couldn't simply leave that child, Yuulis, alone. Was it guilt? or maybe atonement? Whatever it was, it overrode the rational side of his brain

Dire Crowley was the type of person to judge a book by it's cover, which is why he was surprised how his new errand runner, or rather, the new Ramshackle Prefect was able to hold up better than he expected. The reports he received from the staff members he had tasked them with helping have been amicable, and his workflow was much smoother now that he had divided the more menial tasks to someone else. He had thought he had envoked the wrath of the Great Seven with the mess that was thrown his way, but surely they were more pliant than they initially seemed, and now Crowley had a reliable aide at his beck and call.

That would've been the end of the story if Crowley's worries ended there.

Perhaps it's his intuition as a mage, one that's been sharpened by many years of experience, but there was something off about the Prefect. It was subtle enough for none of the other professors to pick up on it, perhaps not even the prefect the▅self were aware of it, but Crowley co▅ld fe▅▅ it.

The lingering mi▅▅ma ▅▅ p▅rmea▅▅ from ▅▅em, it ▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅ ▅ ▅▅▅ M▅▅▅l▅ ▅▅ ▅no▅▅ ▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ▅▅ , ▅n▅▅d f▅rom the loo▅▅ ▅, if Crowley doesn't get it under control, it might spell disaster for the mages in his beloved college.

They'd succeeded his expectations as a prefect, so why not bestow upon them another act of kindness?

A knock resounded from the door to the Headmaster's office, before creaking open. Under the candles that lit the office dimly, the prefect looked like one of the many ghosts that toiled in the campus.

"Apologies for the delay," they nodded, curtly greeting the Headmaster, "It took a while to convince Professor Trein to let me into the library archives, but I got what you asked for."

"It can't be helped, I suppose. The lecture he gave me that time still rings in my ears," Crowley picked the bundle of files off of Yuulis' hands.

"Rightfully so," the monotone in their voice wavered, "With all due respect, I don't see why what you did was necessary, nor will it benefit you or your reputation, Headmaster."

His fingers intertwined and rested over his mouth, obscuring what's left of his face. A part of him thought that Yuulis wouldn't question his actions, but it seems they had not let their guard down completely. Not that he blamed them--in a world of villains, it's wiser to play your cards right.

"I've made it quite clear that it was a mutual agreement, yes?" he says, "One day, you'll understand, once you've proven that you're worthy of carrying my secrets."

He sauntered towards them, slow and heavy footsteps circling around the prefect, "Besides, don't you want my help? You won't have to isolate yourself anymore, drifting around from place to place, worrying about hurting other people. You'll be able to live a normal life. It'd be easier for me to help you with your more personal matters like this, wouldn't you agree, my dearest nephew?"

It was probably underhanded of him to take advantage of their ignorance, but it's too late for them. The pact has been made, Crowley isn't sure whether Yuulis could feel the invisible link that binds them together as well, but the matching blue vest he gave them, their new surname, was enough to send them the message.

"It's getting late, come now, I'll walk you back to that rickety old--err, Ramshackle dorm," says the headmaster, waiting for Yuulis to trail behind him, like they usually do.

With bated breath, they come to accept their new circumstances. They step closer to the Headmaster.

"As you wish, uncle,"

[chocourse]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 (𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓈𝓃𝒶𝓀𝑒𝓈 𝒹𝑜)

➶ poly! ineffable husbands x angel! fem!reader ｡˚ °

-ˏ` ✎﹏ The Egyptians built one of the seven wonders of the world, the Greeks discovered philosophy, but make-up was invented by a desperate angel during the construction of the Tower of Babel, when people spoke the same language and wanted to settle in a city after the great flood. That angel was you. And you really needed the make-up when the first bite happened.

➴ genre: fluff, polyamory, falling in love

: ̗̀➛ warnings: references to christian religion & lore, fashion and make-up lore, love bites/hickeys, mentions of snake poison, corruption i think

⌨ :: 2.2K words ♡ ︵ . .

⁀➷ special thanks to @honeytwo for helping me translate this into english, correcting my grammar and other mistakes. thank you for everything! °♡̷•.

⁀➷ a/n: Hi, dears! I am happy that I took the time to publish this story here after Ao3. I wrote it in January when I watched Good Omens and was looking for comfort after bawling my eyes out. Alright, that's all I wanted to say. Go and enjoy your unique history with the ineffable husbands! <3

➳ good omens masterlist

A FAIRLY LONG TIME AGO

As much as possible, you wanted to blend in with the people. You were too attracted by their nature to spend the rest of your time until Armageddon up there, among snow-white washed columns, in empty halls where nothing really interesting happens. You can deliver the reports even if you’re living on Earth and watching the humans work, you reassured yourself.

You've enjoyed watching the mortals ant-like, feverishly at work, creating wonders like the Tower of Babel.

“Upon my word, what a masterly job,” said Aziraphale, when the tower was already very high.

Aziraphale agreed with you about your intentions on earth, and you used to talk about the exciting things people can do and how exciting it will be to learn about their work and future generations.

When you were particularly engrossed in reciting your predictions, and explaining them to each other with sparkling eyes, Crowley would just roll his eyes and do it with relish, as if it was his natural reaction to your enthusiasm. He decided he'd rather be with the two of you instead of in the company of damned souls and stake-ridden demons when there was no one to tempt and lead into sin. It wasn't boring at all, especially with the fairs they held back then, the intoxicating people, the musical instruments, the delicious food. 

His favorite events were the celebrations. When the men working on the tower would take a break from work and gather in town to drink and sing. They fanned his fire, his desire to do something underhanded. Not evil, just something genuinely bad. Like what he did to the apples and Eve at the tree.

He thought deeply about the ways in which he could make others sin. That's when he heard you laugh. You were amazed at what Aziraphale had said. You sipped flushedly into your alcohol jar. You weren't wearing your halo or spreading your wings, but you looked just like an angel. Beautiful, ethereal, uncorrupted, even when you were indulging in human pleasures and getting drunk at an easy pace.

Bingo.

Crowley smiled, his eyes gleaming under his black sunglasses. He headed towards you.

“Did you try everything?” he asked.

“The dates are heavenly ,” Aziraphale agreed, putting another piece in his mouth. “You must try one, Crowley.”

“I will,” the demon promised. “Later. But first, I'm going to taste something that's inviting to my imagination…”

His fingers brushed over your shoulder. His fingertips touched your sensitive skin, then...

“Ow !" you squeaked in surprise as he sank his canines into the exposed skin of your neck. 

When an angel wants to fit in with humans, she can't walk around with a snake-bitten neck like she's fine. So you tried to use a miracle to make it disappear, but as it turns out, miracles don't work on demonic bites, which is kind of unfair, but part of the Incomprehensible Plan, so you had to resort to some other method, without blaming the Almighty for creating the demon bite the way it is.

You used paint to cover it up. It was the first make-up experiment in history. Cleopatra will use your method in dark red, but it will be a long time before then, your injury will heal and heal many times over.

In any case, Crowley grinned as he watched you walk around for weeks, neck covered in paint. He was very pleased with himself, and you often caught him looking at you with his yellow snake eyes, grinning like he was planning to do it again.

When God confused the tongues of men, you were grateful to Him. 

Now, you could send the demon to Hell in countless languages.

IN THE 16TH CENTURY

Garbo.

Garbos everywhere.

Lace, frills, colours, fancy fabrics. You were very fond of the English Renaissance under Queen Elizabeth I. Mainly because of the full turtlenecks, which usually covered your neck magnificently. You could even forgive the low-cut dresses and corsets - although when silk scarves came along, looking back, the wide turtlenecks you once wore would have looked like clown costumes.

It was further satisfying to know that Crowley hated rules by default, let alone about fashion. He really despised the Sumptuary Laws, and cursed that he hadn't invented them, because they were truly demonic. In contrast, Aziraphale, who always put a lot of effort into his appearance, was fine with the expected attire, and always looked elegant with a pleasant smile.��

Sometimes, though, his smile faltered when his turtleneck grazed the bite marks on his neck. You stroked his upper arm sympathetically at such times, and yet: neither of you told Crowley to stop what he was doing on your necks.

You had no problem with early medieval times. The tight, plain dresses were simple and, importantly, the neck was not visible, only the back of the hands and the face, and after marriage, the hair - not that you married, it was just the fashion among married women. On the other hand, the pale ideal of the early Middle Ages, when women had blood drained to make them white as doves, was disappointing. Then came arsenical powders, the cause of many women's deaths. At the time, you were ashamed of inventing make-up, and so women wanted to tamper with their natural beauty with all sorts of talc fads. You have to suffer to be beautiful, they said, and they didn't realize that there was no need for any suffering because they were beautiful from creation.

Your determination was only further strengthened when it was discovered that Elizabeth I died of blood poisoning from using white lead on her face. And you thought the sixteenth century would bring radical changes…

Actually, there has been a radical change, but not in make-up.

Crowley invented the suction mark, which didn't swell up like a snake venom-infused wound and came in a variety of colours depending on how much time Crowley put into creating them. They made him feel like an artist, so he liked to tinker with them. He'd been paying devoted attention to your necks for a very long time, so you're actually used to it, it's become a tradition. 

In fact, you both kind of loved it.

IN THE 19TH CENTURY

The rice powder is made from natural ingredients. We're finally back here, you peacefully acknowledged at every social gathering. Usually you only powdered the back of your neck, but richly. The fashions of the 1800s called for ruffles, corsets, a relatively modest neckline, no turtlenecks or neck-covering. But a thorough, ornate make-up look was something every self-respecting woman had to create, and because you only covered your neck, you were often the victim of gossip.

When Aziraphale opened his bookshop and held a small gathering to celebrate with champagne, snacks and a ball, the ladies whispered a great deal about you, hiding behind their fans. They sized up your clothes, your make-up, yourself. They guessed how much of a goer you must be. It made them angry that even though you don't wear normal makeup, men still seek your company because you're witty and good, not jealous like them.

Crowley was annoyed by the women who belittled you, the men who complimented you, the fact that you had been hiding the fact that you were his for centuries. Just like Aziraphale, only he didn't seem as desperate as you to cover his marks. Although his top hat usually shaded them well, where it was appropriate to remove the headgear, nothing covered them.

Aziraphale looked at Crowley more and more often as if he knew perfectly well what the marks meant, just as he knew that Crowley was a cruel, unrelenting demon and would not say it.

When Crowley asked you to stop covering your neck, he was actually saying it. With his eyes shining mysteriously in the moonlight through the window, when Crowley took off his glasses and all the guests had gone, leaving only the three of you and the empty glasses and the crumbs. 

Tenderness and love. This is what his words would have tasted like if you had eaten them.

It was the same way Aziraphale looked at you when you caught him gazing at you, silent and dreamy, or when you simply spoke to him enthusiastically about something that interested and excited you as people once did when the Tower of Babel was raised, and he listened patiently, as if he had nothing better to do.

When you said all right to Crowley with a smile, that meant you loved him, too. 

Them, too.

NOWADAYS

“Um, are you–” Gabriel furrows his eyebrows and tries to decipher you with a polite smile. “What is this?”

You're wearing the purest white, as befits a visit to Heaven. Obviously Gabriel would not object to that. He wears mostly white, with a faint hint of blue. What he can't make out is the fluffy white scarf wrapped tightly around your neck, right up to your nose. You stand before him like a polar bear with a neck brace. Or an almost completely covered, ethereal mummy. 

Or maybe a spool of toilet paper. 

You pull the material slightly in front of your mouth to answer. 

“I'm cold,” you report with a blush.

“It must be exciting.” Gabriel admits that you've probably spent too much time on Earth, among humans, and its somewhat dulled your angelic senses. He clears his throat. “Well, we can get down to business then, let's not waste each other's precious time.”

You nod. He is absolutely right.

In the empty, snow-white-plastered heavenly hall, a table, a folder and a pen with wings - not a bijou, strictly used for official signatures - appear. Sighing, you take a comfortable seat, and as you take the pen, you give thanks that now women can wear comfortable and practical pants too. 

And, you add with even deeper satisfaction, great scarves.

...

Ignoring the closed sign, you rip open the door and burst into the bookshop.

“Sorry, but we’re closed– Oh, it's you.” Aziraphale smiles a greeting, then notices the upset on your face. “What happened, darling?”

“It was embarrassing to show myself like this in front of Gabriel,” you reply as you begin to unravel the fuzzy covering around your neck.

Aziraphale pats your upper arm piteously, presses a kiss to your temple and promises to bring you a mug of hot chocolate to help you relax.

Long time ago you promised Crowley you wouldn't cover his marks, but when you meet your angelic bosses, it's a different story. If they find out what's between you and him, they'll make hell in heaven. That doesn't impress Crowley, especially not today. Before you left, he had so covered your neck with his special love marks that a simple scarf wouldn't have been enough to cover it. Especially since he's recently returned to biting.

You'll find him on the sofa at the back of the shop. He's got a real proud smile that makes you want to throw a scarf at him. You throw the scarf at him. He catches it easily.

"You little..." you grit your teeth.

“Idiot? Shit? Asshole? The lowest of demons? Bitter of your eternal life?” He's playing with the scarf. He doesn't look up, doesn't admire the colorful patchwork he's created on your neck. Even better. If he would do it, throwing a scarf at him would not be enough.

"Lovely sweet creature," you say in a voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Bleh.” Crowley scowls. “That's a thousand times worse than you swearing.”

“I know. That's why I do it.” You sit down in the armchair furthest away from him and continue to stare at him harshly.

He sighs.

“My love, you're too beautiful with my marks on your neck. I cannot help it. And every man should know those are mine. Even the angels up there.”

Except Aziraphale. He already knows full well that if the blobs on your skin were to be exhibited as paintings, the artist's name would clearly be Crowley.

And you know what these marks are called these days, and that makes you happy. You ask, a little more lightly, if he knows. Crowley shakes his head.

“Love bites,” you tell him.

“It's only natural that they call it that. I invented it, and for thousands of years you and Aziraphale have been the only ones to get it. What else could it be?” Crowley gets up, comes over to you and squats down in front of you, taking your hand in his. He’s not wearing his sunglasses. His eyes are vivid, the sky glowing yellow behind the black sliver of the moon. "It's not something I give as punishment or temptation. It is exactly what it is called. Humans are smart enough to give it such a good name.”

“Well, well, you're praising the humans.” Aziraphale arrives balancing a tray on the low coffee table next to his open book and a stack of newspapers.

“Have you heard what my creations are called?”

“I don’t think so.”

The demon tells him. The angel blushes and starts passing out mugs. Crowley admires him, then turns to you.

“Will you sit with me?”

Luckily for him, you're not overly resentful. You nod, and you’d be lying if you said you weren't warmed by the sight of his smile and his hand reaching out for yours. You end up on the soft couch, his arm around your shoulders, your hot chocolate in your hand.

And love bites on your neck.

[ineffablesuffering]

Where The Furniture Used to Be (Aziraphale x Crowley x Adopted!reader)

Hello! Welcome back! So this was a request from a lovely anon! (I hope you see this and you like it!) This is my very first attempt at angst so please be nice!

Pairing: (Aziraphale x Crowley x Adopted!reader)

Warnings: again like one swear word. Feels? (look i tried lmao)

Word Count: 2557

Note: To the other anon that sent me a request, I have seen it! It's been added to my list <3

Masterlist

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

“This is ridiculous,” you huffed, “Why can’t I go outside?” the wind picked up outside the bookshop window.

Aziraphale sighed. They, Crowley and Aziraphale, had adopted you when they you were a teenager after noting some strange weather patterns that seemed otherworldly and out of place in London. They had followed the trails and it led them to you, a then-teenager who had trouble controlling their emotions. You were a witch, a bloody powerful one at that, who could control and manipulate the elements no spell or potion needed. It had taken time, but Crowley had connected that the change in weather had come directly from your emotions whether they meant it or not.  Aziraphale and Crowley had worked hard to conceal them from their respective ex-head offices, and it had been working. Until now. You see, Heaven and Hell had taken notice of the young witch and had been watching closely for quite some time. The power they had worried them immensely, they felt threatened by it. With the planning of The Second Coming, they didn’t have the time nor patience to put up with someone who could quickly stop it.

“I just don’t want anything to happen to you, my dear, at least let us accompany you,” Aziraphale said calmly.

“To me or to other people?” you snapped, “I am old enough to go and get a coffee myself Az. You don’t need to treat me like such a baby anymore. I’m not going to hurt anyone. I can control myself now. What could possibly happen to me huh? Nothing has ever happened to me, and nothing will. I can’t stay cooped up in here forever.” The wind continued to pick up outside.

“Oi!” Crowley said from his position on the sofa, “there’s no need to speak to Aziraphale like that. We’re just looking out for you that’s all.”

You let out a deep sigh and rubbed your temples; the wind slowly calming. You loved Aziraphale and Crowley so much and were very grateful to them for everything they had done. But this was too much. You could protect yourself, should anything ever happen to you. You were a grown adult, not the once out-of-control teenager you used to be.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed, “I just think it’s a bit silly that I can’t go 10 minutes down the road to grab a coffee, on my own.”

Aziraphale and Crowley shared a look. It wasn’t that they didn’t trust you, they just didn’t want any harm to come to you. You just looked at them, as they had a silent conversation debating on how they should handle the situation. Aziraphale sighed again and took your hands in his own.

“Okay, fine. You can go but come straight back.” Aziraphale said, softly but his tone suggested that there was no room for argument. A smile appeared on your face as you launched yourself into Aziraphale’s arms.

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” you squealed, “I promise I won’t be long, and I’ll bring you back something too.”

Aziraphale chuckles as he returns the hug rubbing a hand up and down your back. “Just come straight back.” He said as he pulled away. You nodded and quickly made your way to Crowley.  

“Thank you!” you said as you gave Crowley a kiss on the cheek. Crowley just winks at you.

“I take my thanks in the form of a …”

“A big cup with 6 shots of espresso, yes I know,” you laughed interrupting him.

“That’s my little angel,” he said quietly and pressed a kiss to your hand.

You smiled as you made your way out of the bookshop. “Bye! Love you!” you said closing the door behind you.

“I do hope we made the right decision,” Aziraphale said sitting down next to Crowley, taking his hand in his.

“They’ll be fine Angel,” Crowley said, “Just have a little bit of faith,” he said kissing the angel's cheek before standing up and sauntering off into the kitchen to make Aziraphale a cup of tea.

You walked down the street towards the coffee shop with a smile on your face as you took in the scenes around you. There were cars driving up and down the street, the sun was shining, and a cool autumn breeze swirled around you. It truly seemed to be the perfect afternoon. As you walked with almost a skip in your step, you bumped into someone.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” you said to the stranger. The stranger was a woman dressed in white with neat dark hair.

“Watch where you’re walking,” said the stranger.

“Sorry!” you said and continued on your way.

You reached the coffee shop just moments later, and praise be, there was no queue. The shop was particularly empty except for a woman who was sat at a table dressed in white but with beautiful dark skin. Strange you thought, that’s two women in white suits in the last few minutes. Maybe they’re getting married. You shrugged the thought off as you ordered an iced latte for yourself, a large cup with six shots of espresso for Crowley and a vanilla slice for Aziraphale. You paid and thanked the barista and waited for your order. You turned around and saw the woman at the table staring at you. You offered a friendly smile, but the woman just kept on staring at them. “Okay then,” you said under your breath.

You thank the barista when they hand you your order and make your way back to the bookshop. You take a sip of the iced latte and make a face. You didn’t order any syrup in your latte, but it tasted awfully like almonds, and that’s the last thing you remember before everything went black.

Back at the bookshop, Aziraphale was pacing. “They should be back by now,” he stressed as he walked.

“I’m sure they just bumped into a friend or something Angel,” Crowley responded trying to calm Aziraphale, but deep down he knew that something wasn’t right.

“It's been over an hour Crowley,” Aziraphale said glancing out the window to see if he could spot you.

“I know Angel, they’ll be fine,” Crowley said standing up and walking over to Aziraphale placing a hand on his shoulder.

Aziraphale turned to face Crowley and buried his head in his shoulder. Crowley wraps his arms around the angel, soothing him by running a hand up and down his back. Much like how Aziraphale had done to Y/N not too long ago. “Can we go look for them?” Aziraphale mumbled into Crowley’s shoulder.

“Would it make you feel better?” Crowley asked pulling away so he could look him in the eyes. Aziraphale just nodded and Crowley sighed. “C’mon then Angel.”

Aziraphale and Crowley walked down the same streets that Y/N had. The sun was still bright in the sky, the cool breeze whipping around them, but something wasn’t right. They could feel it. They turned the corner and stopped. On the middle of the pavement, there were two dropped coffees and a dropped paper bag which seemed to contain a vanilla slice. The angel and demon turned to each other as their hearts dropped to their stomachs.

You awoke to a bright light and a pounding headache. Your hands bound to a chair and a white rag in your mouth. You wince as you opened your eyes to see the two women from earlier standing before you hold a book.

“What is going on?” you tried to speak, but the rag prevented the words from coming out.

The woman with the neat dark hair snapped her fingers and the rag disappeared.

“You! You’re the women from earlier!” you thrash, trying to break free of the material that held you to the chair.

“Women?” the woman said, “We are the Archangels Michael,” they pointed and themselves “and Uriel,” they continued pointing to the other woma- angel, “and you must be Y/N,” they said a hint of disgust in their voice.

“What’s it to you?” you snap trying to burn your way through the material bounding you to the chair.

“Oh, that won’t work here, Y/N,” said Archangel Uriel, “your gifts are of no use to you in heaven.”

You froze. Heaven? Panic coursed through your veins like ice. “No, no, no, no.” you panicked.

“Oh yes, Y/N,” the Archangel Michael smiled. “You get quite the view from up here.”

“How do you even know who I am anyway?” You said.

“We’ve been watching you for quite some time now. Quite the stir you’ve made upstairs and downstairs. You’ve had us all quite worried,” spoke Uriel.

Your head was spinning. You knew about Heaven and Hell. You always have for as long as you’ve had your powers, that wasn’t the surprise. You knew Aziraphale was an angel and Crowley a demon, so coming face to face with two Archangels wasn’t a huge shock to the system. No, what panicked you the most was that you were up here and Aziraphale and Crowley were nowhere to be seen.

“W-What have you done to them?” you shouted.

“To who?” Uriel cocks their head.

“Aziraphale and Crowley!” you cried. “Where are they?”

“You mean The Traitor and the Demon?” Michael starts, “Oh nothing, it’s not as if they’ll even know who you are in a minute anyway,” they gestured to the book that Uriel held. You’d know that book anywhere.

“Is that?” you say suddenly getting quiet.

“You’re a clever witch, aren’t you?” Uriel said condescendingly.

“But I haven’t done anything!” you shout.

“Ah, not yet you haven’t,” Uriel starts “but we can’t have you interfering with The Second Coming now, can we?”

The Second what now? Fear and dread slowly started to fill your body from your head to your toes. They were going to erase you from The Book of Life. Tears filled your eyes as the reality of your situation dawned on you. You were at a loss for words as Uriel opened the book and handed it to Michael. Your thoughts ran wild as they smiled at you. You felt as if you were about to throw up.

Suddenly, doors opened to your left and voices shouted.

“Let them go!”

“What do you think you are doing!”

It was Aziraphale and Crowley running towards you. Aziraphale snapped his fingers, and you were freed from your restraints. You threw yourself into Crowley's arms and sobbed as Crowley caught you and stroked your hair. “You’re okay my little angel,” he whispered in your ear. Aziraphale stood in front of you both.

“What is the meaning of all this?” Aziraphale demanded.

“Ah, so glad you could join us,” Michael smiled, “We were just about to get started.”

Aziraphale froze when he saw what was in Michael's hands. He turned to Crowley, a wild expression on his face. Crowley tilted his head, confused until he too saw what Michael was holding. His hand froze on your hair.

“That’s not?” Crowley started, suddenly moving you behind him. Aziraphale nodded weakly, not knowing what to say or do. He turned to face Uriel and Michael.

“You can’t do that,” he stepped forward, but Uriel snapped their fingers, and he couldn’t move any further. He was stuck, and panic took over his body. “You wouldn’t, they haven’t done anything!” he shouted. His worst nightmare had suddenly become a reality. He was going to lose you and he couldn’t do anything about it.

Crowley tried to make a dash for The Book of Life, but it was no use, he wasn’t fast enough and soon he was also stuck in place, right next to Aziraphale. “You can’t do this!” he roared, fear washing over him. Michael and Uriel ignored them as they found your name in the book. You rushed in front of Aziraphale and Crowley, you turned and faced the two Archangels.

“Please, don’t do this,” you beg tears rolling down your face, “you can’t do this!” Uriel hands Michael a feather. “I promise I won’t cause any bother. I won’t!” you tried to bargain but it was no use.

“That’s not a risk we are willing to take,” said Michael and with one swift stroke, crossed your name out of The Book of Life, and disappeared.

You turned to face Aziraphale and Crowley and stumbled forward feeling slightly tingly. You felt arms around you as Aziraphale and Crowley were released from their holds as now, there was nothing they could do.

“No, no, no, no!” Crowley shouted as he grasped onto you. You could see tears fall from Aziraphale's eyes as he stroked your hair.

“It’s okay,” you said to them bringing a hand to each of their faces, tears still rolling down your face. “It’s going to be okay,” you whisper quietly.

“How can you say that Y/N?” Aziraphale whispers.

“Because in a few seconds, you won't even remember who I was. You won’t feel any pain.” You whisper to them, noticing that your hands were fading. This was it. A sob wracked through Crowley, his emotions getting the best of him. You feel his lips touch your forehead.

“You’ll always be my little angel Y/N,” he whispers into your hair, pressing another soft kiss to the crown of your head.

“I love you both so much.” You said, feeling yourself fade away.

“We love you too, so much,” Aziraphale whispers into your hair, kissing your head softly, and with that, you faded away in their arms.

A few days later, Aziraphale and Crowley were in the bookshop. Aziraphale had decided to close the shop today, not feeling like opening up. He sat at his desk a strange feeling in his stomach like something was missing but he couldn’t quite place what it was. He sighed and stood up from his desk and made his way to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. He found Crowley standing there staring at a cup of coffee.

“Everything alright my dear?” he asked.

“Hmm?” Crowley responded looking at him.

“I asked if everything is alright?”

“Oh, yeah m’fine.” He said with a sigh, “Do you ever feel like something isn’t quite right?” he asked Aziraphale after a moment.

“You know I was just thinking about that myself,” he said leaning next to him on the kitchen counter. “I’ve just felt rather, unfulfilled recently and I can’t seem to place why.” He frowned.

“Me too,” Crowley said reverting his attention back to his coffee. “It’s very strange, it feels like looking into a house you used to own and trying to place where the furniture used to be but you just can't.”

“That’s an oddly specific way of putting it.”

“But I’m not wrong.”

“No,” Aziraphale sighed, “you are not.”

They stood in silence for a minute before Aziraphale spoke up again. “I’m sure it will pass; all things pass in the end.”

Crowley looked at the angel with a bemused look on his face, “Did you just quote George Harrison?”

Aziraphale blushed “Maybe,”

“You surprise me every day Angel.” Crowley said with a chuckle, “C’mon make your tea and I’ll get you in the main room.” He said sauntering off.

So, life went on as it always had for Aziraphale and Crowley, though they could never shift that feeling that something, or rather someone, was missing.

[somehow-a-human]

The Bullet Catch and the Final 15

DO NOT ASK NEIL ABOUT FAN THEORY

Okay, this started as a completely different post. I was writing something else and I had to abandon it because I realized I needed to be writing this instead. It was like a lightbulb moment, or rather, a headlight moment (see what I did there?)

"Banana, Fish, Gorilla, Shoelace, with a dash of Nutmeg." Clearly adversarial forces are capable of seeing what Crowley and Aziraphale are talking about within the bookshop from across the street. It's confirmed the zombies have gotten The Marvellous Mr. Fell's strange magic words correct at the end of the 1941 minisode. Is this foreshadowing the clear observation of the final conversation Aziraphale and Crowley share directly in front of the bookshop window, by the Metatron?

"Aim for my mouth, shoot past my ear". Well if this isn't that damn kiss I don't know what is. And the bullet, the bullet hiding in his mouth. Magicians historically have had keys passed to them through their mouths via a kiss. Crowley sure did aim for that mouth...

"You have formed a de-facto partnership with the demon Crowley." It's a threat, plain and simple. It's the same thing as Furfur showing up in the dressing room with a photograph of the two of them. And what does Aziraphale do both times? He pulls the same fearful face, is terrified for Crowley, and immediately figures out something to quash the threat. Aziraphale is so smart and so fearful for Crowley's safety, he will do whatever it takes, above his own interests to keep him safe.

"Trust me". The bullet catch. God, the stress of this trick, this insane show of trust and love. "You said trust me", "and you did". I have watched season two an unknowable number of times now, and this is still difficult to see on screen, but it's there. Aziraphale mouths, "trust me" and Crowley catches it, and more importantly, trusts him.

This angel knows he's being watched, the love of his life has been threatened, he knows he has no options and he needs to perform a massive trick to save Crowley. Good thing, he always gets it right the time it matters.

Honorable mention: I am an "Aziraphale was trying to signal for a time stop/help to Crowley" truther, here, when it looks like maybe he mimes 'timeout' and "help". I think either Crowley was too blinded by his newfound plan to confess his undying love for Aziraphale to pick up on his "something's wrong voice" or clear non-verbal communication, which we've established this season they are very good at (see Aziraphale asking Crowley to freeze Dalrymple in Edinburgh). OR he did catch the signals and he is LISTENING.

If you haven't read this post by @noneorother about the parallels between The Tales of Hoffmann and GO season 2, you need to. But to snag a small quote of theirs to highlight this one specific point:

"Stella [Aziraphale] arrives in the tavern looking for Hoffmann [Crowley], ready to run away, but now accompanied by Lindoff [Metatron] (dressed as an angelic figure) who followed her. She looks to Hoffmann to save her, but he's too blinded by the fact that he doesn't think she loves him back to pick up on the signal. He gives up, and she goes back up the stairs guided by Lindoff." - @noneorother

Okay but seriously make sure you go read that whole post.

If that isn't what happens in the final 15, what is?

Then we have the end of 1941 pt.2, wine in the backroom, and the reveal of the photograph. Crowley realizes Aziraphale saved him, he realizes how much he can trust him, and if my observed light bulb headlight moment is anything, it happened after the final 15 too. He knows. It's still devastating, it's still heartbreaking, and it doesn't invalidate all the feelings and love they couldn't quite come out and communicate right then. They are living under an Orwellian regime, this isn't really a job they can quit or even run away from. They were angels created for a purpose. Sure gabriel and Beelzebub left, but how long until someone tries to hunt them down? Plus, what's the point if Crowley and Aziraphale abandon Earth and just let armageddon part two happen? That's a pretty shit thing of them to do. They want to live on Earth, they want to protect the humans, and they want to do it together.

They didn't eat the apple, the humans did. Maybe at the end of season 3, they'll get their chance.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

update on the good omens grieving process

Hello hi yes maggots your mascot sacrificial goat here, none of your ominous bloody warnings prepared me for this. On the advice of one of you I took a break from tumblr today so I thought ah, yes, I shall not think about Good Omens during this time. Hahahaha bet. This is a long post, about a series of disturbing good omens moments that haunted me anyway. Proceed with caution.

It was nine hours away, out of which I slept through four.

During the first nap, it became clear how tumblr brainwashed me. You'll never guess what I dreamed of. If you said Good Omens the answer is no.

I dreamed that someone on the television was reading out an audiobook of a nature arts and crafts book I had as a kid. And there were six pages dedicated to praising Neil Gaiman.

So then in the dream I wrote a tumblr post about it saying, "I thought y'all were kidding about the whole Neil being in our falafel thing but goddamn he really is everywhere".

Then, still in the dream, I remembered I wasn't supposed to be on tumblr, so I tried to delete the Neil Gaiman falafel post. Instead tumblr fucking glitched and set the post to 'lo-fi mode'. I kept trying to delete it.

At this point my screen was covered with pop-ups of tumblr yelling at me and a goddamn timer counting down from 41,000 minutes. Tumblr informed me that their 'delete post' function is actually run by BitCoin.

Currently due to their skeleton staff and the fact that this hellsite is held together with washi-tape and queer trauma, they were having negotiations with BitCoin and so I could not delete my post. I tried again anyway and the entire site hung. Then I woke up. This is some @one-time-i-dreamt shit.

The only social interactions I had were with the two irl good omens fans I know, whom I informed that I had finished Good Omens.

One of them sent me an audio clip of him screeching about trauma and six months and children of divorce at the top of his voice.

The other one texted ASMIIII YOU'RE A CHILD OF DIVORCE HOW ARE YOU COPING WITH THE PAIN. Two hours into my tumblr break I was already facing withdrawal and I wanted to sob that's what the maggots call me but that would have led to them saying BECAUSE THAT'S YOUR FUCKING NAME and I didn't wanna descend there yet.

I then went on Amazon and tracked my good omens book package like a creep. I then went on the US Amazon to cry over all the Good Omens merch that I cannot buy and isn't available here.

I then went on Pinterest to look at Good Omens tumblr screenshots. It was all going well until I found a stupid fucking post that said the duration of the song playing in the Bentley during the final fifteen and the duration of the kiss are the same. So he was replaying the kiss in his head before stopping the music.

Naturally, this then made me cry over Crowley. Painfully.

I looked up Good Omens ambiences on Youtube and cleaned a whole half of my desk while an Aziraphale's bookshop ambience played with rain and shit and when the lockdown audio came I smiled again.

And now here I am. Back. In pain.

[actual-changeling]

this is some self-indulgent, directly post-divorce crowley angst, i am 100% responsible for any emotional damage this might (probably will) cause. enjoy.

CW for mild self harm mentions/descriptions, nothing graphic

-

His flat is dark when he returns.

It always was, and up until this very moment, it had never bothered him before; yet as he watches the door swing open, he feels a wave of apprehension. Even the metal underneath his fingertips has an unfamiliar chill to it. After driving for hours late into the night, his mind painfully numb, the Bentley eventually chose a well-known road and brought him back—well, 'home' is certainly one way of putting it.

It was never one to begin with, but now it is the only place he has left.

Some of the city's shine flows through the windows, but it is barely enough to move the shadows below them, let alone reach the hallway. Crowley presses his palm against the door frame and tries to remember how to breathe, grabbing his glasses with his free hand as he squeezes his eyes shut. When Shax took over, he had spent a week arguing with himself over whether or not to tell Aziraphale, slowly settling on a 'yes' with a growing spark of fearful excitement.

Until he remembered their conversation on the bench.

(I don't think my side would like that.)

Until he thought back to the bandstand, flicking through the years like a photo album and revisiting all the times he had asked for something, anything, and the answer he received.

(You go too fast for me, Crowley.)

No, it would have to come from Aziraphale, and maybe, he repeated to himself over and over whenever he decided to drop by, with just a little more time, he finally would. After saving the world, after escaping heaven and hell, after sitting in the Ritz for hours, Crowley dared to hope.

Four years later, he had long since realised his mistake.

(Nothing lasts forever.)

A crack rips him back to the present, dull pain attempting to separate the veil of numbness and failing, and he drops the crushed remains of glass and metal to the floor before stepping over it. The door quietly falls shut behind him, locks thoughtlessly click into place, and he distantly acknowledges the need for new security measures, not that he currently cares much about anything.

Let them come for him; he has nothing more to lose.

Sliding down the closest wall, he listens to the roughened surface scratching the fabric of his suit, finding that once he sits with his knees pulled against his chest, the physical place loses importance.

"Maybe it's not the dark," he whispers to himself, the thoughts thick and sluggish like honey in his mind. "Maybe it's not the dark, but the quiet."

His own words are haunting him, ringing in his ears and sticking to the back of his throat, and for a moment, he considers simply getting up and walking away. The earth is a graveyard of memories, London is a mass grave collapsing in on itself, and it's not like being anywhere else would change the fact that he was alone.

Alone.

The earth was empty, just like it had been when he sat in a burning bookshop.

Flames licking at his skin would be preferable to the ache underneath it, every cell remembering the fleeting press of warmth, of Aziraphale, his just for a handful of seconds. When he traces his lips with his fingertips, he catches a hint of copper, and it's ash and soot branding him despite his miraculously clean body, it's begging and asking and pleading, it's a mouth opening and the euphoric shiver that followed.

Love, fire, loss, the taste of blood lingering on his tongue no matter how much time passes, and if he weren't wrapping his arms around himself while curled up on the floor, he might have been able to tap back into his anger, the indignant rage Aziraphale's words woke within him.

The weight of the last week hits him all at once as the adrenaline in his body finally starts to fade, the pressure tightly constricting his lungs and forcing a choked gasp out of him. He rests his forehead on his knees, his palms seeking the grounding cold of the cement.

"No nightingales." Crowley scrapes his nails across the floor, the words barely audible even to himself. "Fucking idiot, I just had to hope again, didn't I? Too many fucking questions."

It's not the quiet either. It's not the dark or the empty halls, it's not a pristine, dusty bed or imperfect plants lining the windows. It's the fact that even now, he knows exactly what he will do, surrounded by everything he has after losing the one thing that actually mattered.

He will stay right here, and he hates himself for it, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip until salt explodes in his mouth, but it won't change.

Aziraphale has gone, so Crowley does what he always does—wait for him to come back.