#let sleeping crowleys lie

[lustlovehart]

Prologue Chapter, Beginnings

A/n: Non of the main cast are in this piece, this is just the prologue before the real writing starts buuut they are mentioned if that counts?

Pairing: Monster!Twst x Reader, Ft. Rollo Flamme & Crowley (Voice only).

Summary: Getting rid of things that go bump in the night has always been your job, yet, when the time comes to finally kill them, you can’t bring yourself to do it. Such mistakes, will return their grievances in full, and you’re now made to pay the price of letting monsters continue to live their wretched lives.

Warnings: Bruising, and like maybeeee hints of posseviness?? That’s it though.

Hands, dozens, are maybe more? So many words are being whispered into your ear as each finger practically possesses your body with a desperation akin to hunger.

A snake wraps around your arm, a gargoyle looks down at you, and heat encased your body until it practically swallows you, yet it feels like you're drowning at the same time when sand pours on you. You don’t know what any of it is signaling to you, you’re not even sure if you wish to understand.

“Off with their head!” “Let the tall grass swallow you.” “The deep isn’t so scary when you know what’s in it.” “Wishes are deceiving.” “Reach your full potential here” “… These joints, I can’t stop.” “Is it so bad to sleep in this castle with us?”

These voices sound scarily familiar. Yet, you don’t recall any of their voices despite feeling like you know them on some basis. You don’t move, even when one hand intertwines with your own as if you were a prize to be won, a want or need they must have.

A feint mantra of your name reaches out to you in your dream, a savior from this purgatory. But… there’s something wrong, their attempt to save you, is shrouded in danger. Even when their hand reaches to break you out, the under lying feeling of dread spreads through your body.

Whoever is saving you, is hiding something from you—

“[Name].” Your figure is quick to jump awake, your eyes immediately going blind from the morning sun shining through your windows. When you turn, you’re immediately met with Rollo at your bedside, a cup of tea and warm food in his palm. “Did you plan to sleep in?” It’s typical for him to invite himself into your home, it’s not like you’re opposed anyhow, he feeds you for free, and even cleans your house. When you told him why you don’t feel worry when he enters your abode, he compared you to a wild raccoon. “With your job, you should be more… precise…” his eyes had trailed down from your face to your arm.

His hand slowly gravitates towards you, ringed finger slowly tracing above your skin before grabbing onto you. If you were fully awake, you would’ve questioned why such a small action… was so sensual.

Alas, you’re still tired.

“Pray tell,” lifting the appendage into view, he reveals what it was that caught his attention, “How did you get… These?” Dark bruises have flourished into your skin. “I hope you didn’t lie about going to sleep early.”

“Wha…? I didn’t, I swear. I don’t know what these are…” he eyes you with suspicion before deciding against interrogation. Though that’s always the case, he has a habit of letting go of whatever you say or do with only a slap on the wrist.

“Well, I hope, it doesn’t matter. You’re going to have a very eventful couple of months, Crowley is sending us off for work again,” he takes a seat next to your bedside, patting your lap down to flatten your blanket before setting a tray down with your breakfast. “He says you’re going to those places. ” Before you even have the chance to drink, you’re already putting down the tea, looking back at him in utter confusion.

“… Hah?”

If he’s being truthful, which, he always is, unfortunately, those areas are notorious amongst people of your occupation, said to have the most violent of fiends.

And… Crowley is sending… you??

“I argued with him not to let you go. Jack was very adamant about not letting that happen either. In fact… He seemed more determined than me. Which is a cause for concern.”

“That is concerning… I only have room for one overbearing partner.” His face goes sour at your poorly placed joke, like some miscreant he’s met on the street, rather than one of the few people he doesn’t mind talking to. His expression quickly softens once more when he remembers who it is that said the joke, you “Sorry…”

“The point is, You’re going there, alone.” He emphasizes the word heavily, as if he really needed to remind you just how dire your situation is.

Alone. The words echo through your room like an unspoken curse, condemned to feed your suffrage. If you’re going to be alone, there’s no doubt you’ll go mad from solitude, void of communication for months.

In your state of conflict, a sharp pang is felt in your neck, as if a blade had gone through your skin and cut off all feeling from your body. A sense of foreboding makes your worry only increase.

“Eat now before you leave.” The feeling is gone as quickly as it came. You look back to Rollo, you wonder why Rollo goes out of his way to do what he does for you. He’s a nice distraction from the dreams that cling to your consciousness.

So is Jack… he's kind to you too.

He was stationed in Sunset Savana if you’re correct. Maybe you’ll see him again when you travel to the second location…

You’re pulled out of your trance when the warm feeling of tea dripping down the corner of your mouth is felt, Rollo, being the culprit as he forces you to drink the beverage. “I said eat now.”

You would’ve pinched him if it weren’t for how tired you were, all is forgiven when he wipes the drink from your jaw with that prized handkerchief of his.

The rocky terrain of the floor annoys you to no end, with each step you take a small pebble flies off somewhere to the side. Considering Crowley instructed you to be stealthy, you probably shouldn’t be flinging things around. You don’t care though, you keep doing it the thought of Crowley might’ve increased how much force you put into your kicks.

“Rules must be followed, I don’t appreciate those who don’t obey.”

A chill goes down your spine. Those words are so familiar, but you can’t place where you’ve heard them before…

Before you can keep dwelling on the disembodied memory, you’re suddenly struck by the unfortunate reminder of Crowley, and 7 high-class missions.

7 missions he’s barely compensating you for.

“Greedy bird…” Honestly, you only accept the transfer under Crowley because of Crewel. Your former boss may have been strict, but at least he paid you well and made you somewhat okay with your job. The thought makes you reminisce of simpler times before the sound of a crow echoes through the sky, and a scroll drops on the path in front of you.

You recognize it, it’s a special communicator used among hunters, it’s a bit outdated, but Crowley is insistent on using it. You kneel bunching the paper in your hand, unraveling the parchment.

It’s Crowley. You toss it away. The paper comes back to your feet, freakishly bouncing on the dirt. He’s calling again, and you throw the paper away again. He won’t stop coming back.

“Leave me alone” He’s your boss, you don’t exactly treat him like one though. Knowing the lack of people in the job field, you not dying on the first week of work is rare, making you an asset he can’t just throw away, so in revenge for every act of greed he commits, you return him the attitude of a snarky employee.

Along with that, you’re still spiteful that he made you do this alone rather than with someone like Rollo or Jack.

“Wait! Wait! Don’t hang up! After all my generosity you continue to disregard me, your own boss no less–!”

The sound of paper beginning to tear immediately sets the sheet to panic mode, aggressively shaking to avoid being ripped to shreds.

“Stop, Stop! I have something to tell you about your job, so don’t you dare, little one!” Chances are, he can sense your disappointment on the other side of the line, the both of you simultaneously sighing before he continues the rest of his talk. “Those seven locations, you don’t have to kill them, running them out of the area is all you’re required to do” You pause for a moment, moving off your intended path into a forest. Your connection gets a little choppy, but if it means you don’t have to listen to him anymore, it might be worth it.

“Run them out only? Are you sure that’s all I have to do, don’t we usually kill them?”

“Yes typically but, it seems our dear commissioners only asked to be rid of them, now why would we hunt them when we’re not being paid? That would just be a waste of time.” Your side is completely silent after his statement, concerned hellos beginning to leave Crowley's side of the paper.

“… So you’re stingy.”

“Not stingy! But, we are a business.” You leave him at that, not wanting to draw out an already lengthy conversation. “So, are you ready for your next assignment, little birdie?”

“Unlike you, I’m not cheap so,” snickers are heard from your boss, instead of a retort to such a blow, all he says is a smug “oh?” before the rest of your words spill. “I’ll really get rid of them. For the people.”

You had intended to waste time before heading to your first job, but luck isn’t on your side, as it turns out your off-course path was an accidental shortcut.

Crowley isn’t talking anymore, you must’ve lost connection. You quickly tear the paper in sweet relief… that’s short-lived. Your eyes are magnetized to the sign in front of the eroded building.

“Heartslaybul Hospital” a tinier sign in the corner with sloppy handwriting, which you can only assume to be from a child reads, “For wonderful and rule-abiding patients only!”

You take one glance back at where you came from, your last chance to truly walk away, before heading inside.

When you look back at it after finishing all 7 locations, you truly should’ve just run them out. For once, you wish you had listened to Crowley, maybe doing that, or maybe even sacrificing your pride would’ve worked, turning around and leaving the hospital might’ve been the optimal solution.

It would’ve saved you from your current predicament.

Trapped in a room filled with monstrosities that can no longer bear to let you go.

A/n: Heartslaybul chapter (hopefully) coming very soon *Insert emoji deviously rubbing hands together*. Originally, this Au was meant to be specifically Yandere, but the more I wrote, the more I realized, These monster counterparts, are well, monsters, so I decided, it’s entirely up to you whether or not you want to view it as Yandere or not. With that said, they will still be possessive in some right, so let that help you determine your choice.

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Demon's Blood

Aziraphale x Crowley x Fem!Vampire!Reader - 18+ ONLY

Summary: Part two to Angel's Blood. You've tried Aziraphale. It's high time you tried Crowley, too.

CW: blood, bloodplay, knifeplay (only a smidge and it's barely play), wrist cutting (for snack purposes), choking, p in v, fingering, dom/sub dynamics, Dom!Crowley, Switch!Aziraphale, degradation.

Requests are: open and encouraged

Gomens tag list: @coffee-and-red-lipstick @quickslvxrr (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

Vamp!Reader tag list: @purplefrog1sblog (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

You’re not sure, but you think they may have planned this, not by starving you, of course- or removing your food sources, but, by just… waiting for the right moment to strike. 

And it would be a blatant lie if you had said that you hadn’t been thinking about the way you ground an orgasm out on Aziraphale’s thigh while drinking down his blood (it would also be a lie to say Aziraphale and Crowley hadn’t been thinking about the same with regularity) more often than you should. Thinking about it late at night when you couldn’t sleep (not that you needed to sleep at all, of course) you’d gotten yourself off to the thought of it more than once. A lot more than once if you were completely honest with yourself. 

Since you’d fed from Aziraphale, your relationship with the Angel and Demon had changed quite a lot. Gone were the days of quiet platonic contemplation in each others’ presence. Now there were days of stolen kisses, picnics in the park, and theatre shows. Days of mind-blowing sex, too. That was also now a regular occurrence- and one you were not going to complain about any time soon and neither were they, just quietly. 

You hadn’t fed from him since, as you hadn’t really needed to. That was changing, though. You were beginning to grow hungry again, beginning to feel your cells fizzling and dying. At least this time you were in the early stages of hunger and not leaving it until the brink of desperation to actually do something about it. 

Your partners had also clearly started to notice the way your eyes would dilate at the scent of blood. The little sharp gasps you’d make when someone would get a papercut across the street, or when someone scraped their knee. You would never feed from someone innocent, you all knew that. But it didn’t change the visceral reaction you had to the smell either. 

Tonight, however, blood was the last thing you had on your mind. Sure, the need was always lingering under the surface, waiting for you to snap and feed to your undead heart's content- but it was also extremely hard to focus when you were laying on top of Aziraphale with his cock rubbing up against the crack of your ass and his thick, warm fingers prying your legs up and apart. 

Aziraphale was peppering kisses all over your neck, whispering sweet nothings as his grip tightened on the meat of your thighs. Crowley was currently in the midst of burying his fingers as deep into your cunt as he possibly could. In and out, twisting and stretching your hole without mercy. 

You’re doing your best not to snap your hips up off the bed, and Aziraphale is whispering sweet and filthy praise into your ears as a reward. When his tongue rakes up the shell of your ear you whine loudly. 

“What’s the matter, Pet?” Crowley asks, slinking over you to nip at your jaw. “This not enough for you?” 

Your face screws up with pleasure as Aziraphale grinds his heavy cock against the small of your spine. You know he’s loving this, the little shit. Aziraphale, you had figured out- liked the teasing. He loved to make himself wait, to get just enough pleasure to keep him going before being able to truly let go. 

“Mm- please?” You ask, forcing your eyes to open and focus on the Demon currently paying deft attention to your nipples with his forked tongue. 

“Actually, dear-” Aziraphale pipes up softly, giving your thighs a yank when he notices that they’re starting to slip closed again. “We rather thought we might try something new tonight.” 

Crowley’s brow arches deviously. “If you’re interested, of course,” the Demon says innocently, forcing himself to quit tonguing your nipple.

“What did you- oh- have in mind?” You ask, jumping when Crowley gives your nipple a harsh pinch just for the fun of it. 

The Demon’s lips curl into a knowing grin. A grin you’ve come to know quite well over the last few centuries, although not something you’re entirely familiar with in this current scenario. Your pussy clenches around nothing, and you wiggle back against Aziraphale’s cock, who gasps behind you. 

Crowley leans over you to the bedside table, giving you the perfect opportunity to press a sharp bite into his side. He chuckles, and Aziraphale gives your thigh a vaguely scolding pat. When he returns to sit back on his haunches, he hides what he has behind his back. 

“Toys aren’t something you need to hide from me, Crowley, dear. I may have been born in the sixteenth century, but that doesn’t mean I’m a sixteenth-century prude either.” You bat your eyes at him for emphasis and he just ignores you, launching right into a new question. 

“Mm, right- are you hungry?” 

Now this does confuse you. Hungry? Yes, always, and quite frankly the reminder of your current lack of blood supply is not helping the intimate mood as much as you’d like it to. 

“Y-yes?” You supply. Zira noses at your ear, making dark and heated eye contact with the Demon over your shoulder. 

“Well, see- the Angel and I were thinking,” Crowley said, twiddling the item behind his back in his hands for a moment. “If you wanted to try, erm, the other side of the Canal, so to speak.”

One of Aziraphale’s hands slides down from where he’s holding you open to rub as best he can at your clit from that angle. Your eyes flutter and the muscles in your now free leg groan in protest as you stretch it back out. 

“Not too far, dearest,” Aziraphale interjects. “We’re going to need that back there in a moment.” 

You’re not sure what to make of this, but you can’t deny the way your pussy clenches at the thought of trying Demon’s blood. Particularly after knowing how Angel’s blood had worked on you. 

“What have you got behind your back, Crowley?” 

He pulls the object out and into view. You recognise it immediately. A blade. A delicate little thing, curved at the tip. It looks like something Crowley’s taken good care of for quite some time. 

“You like it?” He asks, twirling the sharp thing in his fingers. “They don’t make ‘em like this anymore, do they?” 

You shake your head. They definitely didn’t. 

Crowley took the blade and set it aside for a moment, shuffling forward to sit closer between your legs. You eye his cock as he takes it in hand. He nudges Zira’s fingers away from your clit, who splutters at the ridiculousness of the act and Crowley replaces them with the head of his cock.

 

He’s still holding it in place as he rubs himself against your clit, little gasps escaping you both. Your thighs twitch with pleasure and pain as Aziraphale goes back to holding them both in place. 

The Angel can’t help but rock himself against you, pre-cum leaking onto your skin. The slide of his cock against your arse, and Crowley’s cock against your clit makes you shiver, head falling back onto Aziraphale’s shoulder. 

“Oh, she likes that,” Aziraphale pants, fingers leaving red marks on your skin. You can’t help but let the little shy whimper out. Crowley snickers mockingly, slapping the head of his cock against your clit a few times. 

“Be a dear,” Crowley said, reaching for your hand and placing it above his length. “Hold that there, eh, love?” 

You blush at the request, placing the flat of your hand over him so he can continue to rub his cock into your clit while he reaches once again for the blade. The feel of his cock sliding against your folds and your hand has you writhing. 

Crowley takes the blade and trails it down your chest, hips stuttering just a little when you swell with intrigue. Oh, this was looking interesting indeed.

“Didn’t fail to notice, Pet,” he emphasises the ‘t’. “You didn’t answer my question.” 

“Didn’t I?” You pant back, rolling your hips against his cock. Aziraphale groans at the friction. Crowley hums a ‘no’ at you, and you grin. “Yes, dear- I’m hungry.” 

Your Angel and Demon take this as word enough, and Crowley takes his blade and his wrist and raises it above your body. He gives you one more heated look before slicing the skin there softly, a little ‘oh’ as fat drops of blood slither down his skin and drip off onto your body. 

Pat. A drop lands on your chin. Pat. Another on your chest. Pat, pat. More down your tummy and then- pat, pat, pat. Drips landing on the hand keeping Crowley in place. You can smell it, sweet notes of cedar. You feel out the points of your fangs with your tongue. Crowley clocks the motion and grins, allowing some more of his blood to drip onto your fingertips. Pat, pat. 

He moves your hand, raising it to your lips. 

“Go on,” he tempts. “Have a taste, hey?” 

You glance between your bloodied fingers and Crowley’s heated smirk. Not breaking eye contact, you slide your fingers to your mouth. The first taste of his blood on your tongue feels charged, almost electric. Oh, this was definitely different from Angel’s blood. 

Your lips wrap around your fingers and you begin to suck them clean. Crowley places one hand around the base of his cock and slaps your clit a few more times, groaning as pre-cum beads at the tip. 

While Aziraphale tasted of peonies and ink, Crowley tasted of grapes and smoke with the obligatory iron that followed. God, they both tasted divine. Your tongue wrapped around your fingers and cleaned off the last traces. Your eyes flicked to the drop on your chest, which you swipe onto your forefinger and promptly suck clean. 

“Oh, Crowley,” you moan. He’s got a wicked grin plastered across his features.

“Good, then, I take it?” 

You nod, already starting to feel the effects of the blood in your system. Cells coming back alive, energy returning but there’s something else too. You’ve only had a few drops so you can’t be sure yet, but it almost feels like your blood is heating under your skin. 

Your eyes flick to his dripping wrist, and you allow a soft “more, please?” to convey just how much you desired to taste him. Crowley acquiesces, presenting you with his slick wrist. You take it softly with both hands, pressing your lips to the cut and laving your tongue over it to collect any and all of the blood that has leaked out. 

Once you’ve done this, you brush your fangs over the soft skin, completely lost to anything else at that moment other than the fact that you were finally feeding. 

It’s as you begin sucking anew on the cut and properly feeding that Crowley sinks his cock inside you. You gap, eyes fluttering shut as he sinks all the way to the hilt. Aziraphale lets out a few breathy moans at the sight and adjusts himself so that it is now his knees and thighs locking yours open for your Demon. 

This leaves Aziraphale’s hands free. He stretches them to get the ache out before caressing up and down your thighs and sides. He squeezes at your hips and whispers in your ear about how gorgeous you look like this. 

All of a sudden it hits you- Crowley’s blood. Demon’s blood. Demon blood which was once Angel’s blood. You moan wantonly as the effects start to pile up. Crowley’s blood was an aphrodisiac just like Aziraphale’s, yes, but there was something different about it. The way it was electrically charged, singeing your nerves and setting them alight at the same time. The way it felt as though the blood might be roiling with heat in your veins. Oh, this was definitely new. It was like… Crowley’s blood was just laced with pure sin. Or perhaps it was just pure unadulterated sin. Period. 

All you knew was that your thoughts were fading into lustful madness, and you forced yourself to break away from his wrist long enough to let out a dangerously needy growl. Crowley arched his brow and pulled his hips back so he could slam them inside again. 

Your mouth dropped open in pleasure, and the force of the thrust pressed you back against your Angel, who moaned loudly in your ear. You reached behind you with one hand to pull at Aziraphale’s hair. You couldn’t see it, but given the look Crowley had on his face, the Angel was making an expression that could easily have been branded as pure lust. The whimper that followed also gave you that impression. 

Once the shock of Crowley’s movements had passed, you pulled his wrist back to your lips. You grazed your fangs over a section of skin that was unharmed and waited for Crowley’s permission. Sure, the cut was there, but there was nothing quite like the feeling of flesh splitting beneath your fangs. It satisfied that primal urge like no other. 

Crowley nodded and his hips stuttered with pleasure as you bit down. He moaned, his other arm wobbling as he tried to keep himself up as you started feeding in earnest. That might have something to do with the venom that is secreted from your fangs when you feed. Nothing toxic, of course. It was just meant for numbing the pain felt from feeding and replacing it with pleasure, changing what the nerves picked up so that your prey wouldn’t struggle to get away. 

After all, why would they if your bite was blinding ecstasy? 

Crowley thrust his hips again and set a harsh pace, grunting with pleasure as you fed off him and clenched your pussy around him. You were growing more desperate the more of his blood you drank, blood fizzing in your veins, crackling at your nerves. 

“You’re both so gorgeous like this, my darlings,” Aziraphale said softly, skating the tips of his fingers over your hips to squeeze at the bone there possessively. You whined around Crowley’s arm. 

Aziraphale’s fingers trailed further along your skin, coming to rest on your clit. He could feel where the two of you were connected and felt around Crowley’s cock as he pounded inside you. That coil was winding tighter in your core, and as Aziraphale began to circle your bundle of nerves, you wondered just how long you were going to last. 

Crowley’s blood was sparking inside you, and every tight rub of Aziraphale’s fingers on your clit felt like it was almost too much. It felt as though the raw endings of your nerves were exposed and exploding with every touch. 

Without warning, you came screaming, loud wails of pleasure as your body jerked between them. Aziraphale’s legs tightened on yours, keeping you from snapping them closed from the overstimulation. 

“Oh, fuck-” Crowley grunted as you clenched down tight on him. He fucked you through the orgasm, not letting up for a moment. And you realised with horror that it had done nothing to quell the ache inside you. In fact, if nothing else, you were desperate for more. 

“Harder-” you grunted, abandoning Crowley’s wrist to reach for him, wrapping your arms around his neck. The Demon complied, snapping his hips up against you harder, setting a rougher pace than before. With his other hand free, he was now able to balance himself properly on the bed and get a more comfortable rhythm going. “Fuck, please- harder-” 

Crowley chuckled breathily in your ear, nipping at the skin just below it. Aziraphale then slapped your clit without warning, causing you to arch off the bed by the hips and shriek. The Angel laughed lovingly from behind your other ear. 

“Oh dear, I rather think she likes that too, don’t you, Crowley?” 

Crowley groaned as you clenched down on him once again as Aziraphale repeated the motion. 

“Fuck, Pet,” Crowley managed. “Oh, you love being between us like this, don’t you?” 

You whimpered, mouth dropping open as you got closer to another orgasm. Your thighs were twitching under Aziraphale’s almost uncontrollably. 

“Oh, you do,” Crowley mocked. “You’re so full up on the taste of me that you can’t stand anything other than our cocks on you, fucking you-” You were nodding desperately, scratching your fingers down his back. Crowley was a little bit of a masochist and made sure to never miracle away or let the marks heal for a day or so after you’d given him some so he could enjoy the sting a while longer. He was going to enjoy seeing these in the morning, that was for sure. 

“Are you goi-nngh- fuck, going to cum, darling? Already? Poor little thing. Go on, then- cum for us again.” 

Your back arches as another orgasm rips its way out of you, more powerful than the one before. You don’t know how to function as the pleasure tears through your nerves like wildfire. You cry out before biting down on the junction of Crowley’s neck. Not to feed, but just to stifle yourself. 

Crowley shouts, hips stuttering forward as he finally finishes too, ropes of cum painting your inner walls. He’s panting and burying himself as deeply as he can inside you. The Demon rocks his hips softly against your hips, riding out his pleasure. 

You’re whimpering and keening, desperate for more. Crowley must give the Angel a suggestive look, who softly unhooks your legs from his own and starts pressing kisses down your neck, hand coming up to squeeze at your breast. 

“My dear, would you be ever so kind as to allow me up?” Aziraphale asks you. You groan with the effort of removing yourself from his chest. It’s a lot of work after having been fucked so thoroughly, but you do it happily for him. 

Aziraphale slides out from behind you and Crowley takes his place. You settle back against the Demon and smile tiredly as he places his bony chin down on the top of your head. 

Aziraphale spends a moment admiring the view before him before kneeling back down on the bed and positioning himself against your entrance. 

“Can I?” He asks, knowing how exhausted and overstimulated you were. You nodded, gasping as Crowley pinches a nipple harshly. You may be tired, but the effects of his blood were still active in your veins. 

Aziraphale spends his sweet time sinking inside you. He’s much thicker than Crowley, and the stretch burns pleasurably as he slowly rocks his hips forward. You’re struggling not to squirm under him as he finally bottoms out. 

“Crowley, be a dear-” Aziraphale swallows thickly as you clench around him, swollen walls making you feel even tighter than usual. “Wrap that pretty hand around her neck for me?” 

“Oh, as you wish, Angel-” Crowley replies, bringing the hand that wasn’t pinching and tugging at your abused nipples to rest on your throat. You whimper and raise your jaw to give him more space. He chuckles knowingly and gives you a quick squeeze. 

Aziraphale must like the way that makes you twitch if the way he whimpered was anything to go by. 

“Please- Zira, I need you,” you pant, hips now beginning to attempt to rock against him. He moans and thrusts his hips shallowly into you. You gasp, though the intake of air is stolen from you as Crowley tightens his hand once again, cutting off any and all airflow. 

Aziraphale can’t hold out any more and begins to snap his hips back and forth, delighting in the way your tummy twitches with the motion. You swear you can feel your clit throbbing and twitching too. 

Crowley loosens his grip to allow you to suck half a breath in before taking the choice away again. Now, as a vampire, you don’t technically need to breathe, but old habits die hard, and breathing was still second nature to you, even after all this time. 

“Oh, that’s it, Pet,” Crowley says, squeezing your breast with the other hand. “Looking so edible for us, aren’t you?” Aziraphale moans at the Demon’s words, and Crowley tuts. 

“Don’t worry, Angel- I haven’t forgotten about you. Pretty thing, isn’t he? Likes to think he’s so innocent, doesn’t he? Did you know,” he pauses for effect, and you can feel the wicked grin from behind you. “This whole thing was his idea. Oh, I know- doesn’t seem like our dear old ‘Ziraphale.” 

Aziraphale blushes dark pink, grabbing onto your hip to fuck into you harder. You’re watching him with rapt attention. He does look so pretty like this, so perfect. Angelic. Not that this is a surprise, of course.

“Crowley-” Aziraphale warns halfheartedly. “Please-”

Crowley releases your throat. You suck a deep breath in and reach down to rub at your clit, feeling pressure starting to build once again. 

“Please what, Angel? You know you love the praise. Did you know,” he trails off in your ear. “Managed to make him cum untouched from praise once.” 

You chuckle airily, though it breaks off into a long moan at the way Aziraphale squeaks and his hips snap forward. You would have to see if that particular event could be replicated.

“Mm, that was a fun day,” Crowley says almost conversationally. “Angel, are you close?” 

Aziraphale nods jerkily, fingers leaving red marks on your skin as he begins to chase his orgasm. You know it won’t be long, given how much he had been denied and teased before. You rub your clit faster, in time with his thrusts.

Crowley laughs darkly and tightens his fingers on your throat again. Your head jerks back. A whine attempts to escape you, but can’t do so with the grip Crowley had on you. Aziraphale moans loudly as he reaches ever closer to that peak. 

“Alright, now, Pet,” Crowley growls when he can tell the both of you are getting close. You can feel his cum inside you being forced out around Aziraphale’s cock as he fucks you ever deeper. “You’d better cum soon because I won’t be letting go until you do.” 

If you had still been human, you might have had bruises on your skin where his fingers pressed into you. You moaned, hips jerking and thighs twitching. There was pressure building in your belly, though it didn’t quite feel as it had before. This was different- oh. Oh. 

Your legs jerked as the pressure built up and burst. Liquid gushed out as you squirted onto Aziraphale’s cock and thighs. The Angel let out a sound of surprise before thrusting once, twice ore and cumming, mixing his cum with the Demons’ inside your hole.

You realised that Crowley had let your throat go and was trailing his fingers up and down your cheek comfortingly. This was definitely new. You had never squirted before, and when you managed to open your eyes to look at the Angel, he looked at you with dark, lustful reverence. 

“That- you- that was glorious,” he managed to supply. You chuckled tiredly and pulled him in for a kiss. The Angel pushed his tongue into your mouth to dance with yours and you whimpered as the act made your clit twitch with interest. 

“My, my,” Crowley said, tilting your head to give him a chaste kiss too when you were done kissing Aziraphale. “You are a dirty thing.” 

You sagged against him, muscles giving out. Oh, you were going to sleep well after this. 

“I think,” Aziraphale panted, pulling a miracle down from above to clean up the three of you and the bed. “We ought to do that again at some point.” 

You groaned and pulled the Angel down on top of you, who let out a startled ‘oof’ sound. You giggled and encouraged the two of them to snuggle with you. 

“Mm- sometime,” you agreed, already feeling yourself giving in to the very human impulse of sleep. “Later.” 

“Get some sleep, dear,” Aziraphale said softly, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. 

“Mm- we’ll be here,” Crowley added, pressing another kiss to the top of your head. 

And you did, and they were. 

[cyber-dump-171]

Chapter 4: Crewel & Crowley

Objection! Stand your ground! Marvelous! (Twisted Wonderland x Reader)

← Chapter 3 | Masterlist | Chapter 5 →

Word count: 4.5k.

WARNING: brief mentions of possible drug addiction and smuggling pills.

Note: this is more of a filler chapter, but, Heartslabyul's arc begins next chapter. Enjoy!

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The door opens with a rather loud creak, giving way to an empty office plunged in darkness, the only thing he can see is the mahogany desk illuminated by the silver moon and some pictures depicting the “Great Seven” slowly floating up and down a few meters above the floor.

If someone asked Crowley why his workspace is so austere, the crow would reply, "less is better". It's more professional, cleaner, makes a better impression, and can also be intimidating. But in reality, he rarely uses this space, preferring to work in the office of his subordinate and “close friend,” Divus Crewel.

His office is much more cozy than his, the reduced space and furniture-lined walls can be claustrophobic to some, but to him, it is just perfect. Besides, Crewel's taste in decor and color is trendy yet classy, and the crow man understands why the fashion enthusiast and scholarship science nerd ended up as the Pomefiore dorm leader during his high school years.

Originally, Crewel found it frustrating that the bird man was constantly swinging by to his workplace, already annoyed that he barely had any alone time during the day and then the flamboyant man was invading and working in his personal office. 

It started with their papers and files getting mixed up, then Crowley left empty cups and plates strewn around his desk, and the breaking point was when he found the crow man’s mask and coat hanging from his office chair.

Crewel told him to get lost and use his own office. 

Crowley offered to double his salary and extend his vacation days in exchange for using his office. 

A deal was quickly struck.

And he'd be working there right now if he hadn't been so rudely kicked out by the potionology teacher. A little birdie (Sam) told Crewel that Crowley had placed the magicless kids in the health hazard that is the Ramshackle Dorm.

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Crowley's concentration is interrupted when the office door bursts open and Crewel steps in, his fluffy white and black coat nowhere in sight. His eyebrows are furrowed so tightly that they might melt together as he shouts angrily at the headmaster. “Explain to me why, in the name of the Great Seven, you thought it was okay to put these children in that house!?” his screams echo through the room.

“Good evening to you too, Divus,” the man in front of him sneers before slamming the door and walking over to the desk, hands on his hips. “Don’t ‘good evening’ me! Answer the damn question!” the crow man can already feel the headache coming on as his brain pounds at his friend's screams.

“Well, where else was I supposed to put them? I wouldn't let them just walk out of here, this world is very dangerous! You know I'm a very benevolent person,” he mutters the last part with a grin, proud of his actions. On the contrary, Crewel wants to gouge out the crow's beady little golden eyes and slap him across the face. “Benevolent!? Dire, just last week we were talking about tearing that thing down after the ceiling almost collapsed on Trein!”

Ah, he's on a first-name basis now, that’s not good.

“If you feel so bad for them, why don’t you house them, then?” Crowley proudly retorts, finally lifting his gaze from the paperwork, noticing his friend’s flat and unimpressed expression. “I live in a one-bedroom apartment. I’m not about to add three teenagers into the mix and force them to sleep in the sofa bed.” 

That's a lie, it was actually a two-bedroom apartment, but he turned the other room into a walk-in closet with a huge mirror... What? He ran out of room for his clothes!

“What about your house? I know you have plenty of space,” Crewel crosses his arms, remembering last year's staff holiday party that Crowley begrudgingly hosted in his home after pulling the short stick from the pile. The crow man scoffs, offended by the idea. “There’s not enough space for the four of us there.”

“Dire, you live in a mansion!” “I value my space!” “And not mine!?”

Crewel sighs, throwing his head back exhausted from this pointless conversation. He fails to understand why his “friend” is so reluctant to give these kids a proper space to live. “Did you tell them that they can get food from the cafeteria? Or to use the gym showers?” Crowley quickly averts his gaze, shyly twiddling his fingers as he remembers the deal. “I… um… well…”

“Crowley,” the potionology teacher warns in a low tone and the crow man can feel the rage that emanates from the man, making him even more nervous to admit what now seems like a really bad idea. “I kinda… told them that… well, that they'd have to work for their food and clothing,” he watches in horror as Crewel goes slack-jawed, the color draining from his face as he processes the sentence. “But! Don’t worry, I’ll give them a good salary and plenty of time to rest!”

He says this as if it were a good solution.

“Child labor!? Crowley, we’re going to get sued!” 

“They can’t sue us, they don’t have valid IDs!” 

“Not them, the government, you moron!” Oh… 

“Well, I'll just draft some contracts to cover our ass, we'll be fine, don’t worry!” 

“They're minors, they can't sign them without their parent's permission!” 

“One of them is 18! The blonde one... I think…” 

“And the other two?” 

“Well, if you're so worried about them, why don't you adopt them!?” 

“Because, legally, they don't exist in this world! Also, I'm too young for children!” 

“You're 32!” 

“Shut up! You're older!”

Ah, this conversation is getting nowhere.

Crewel runs his fingers through his hair, completely ruining the hairstyle he spent a few good minutes on this morning. This is bad, terrible, even a disaster! Throughout the entire debacle of the entrance ceremony, he watched from the sidelines in pity as the faces of the three children fell in horror and shock when the mirror declared that their home didn't exist.

He can't imagine it… suddenly being ripped away from your world and thrown into a dimension where your only support system is two strangers close to your age and an idiot headmaster who can't even house you properly while forcing you to work. He gets it, it's expensive enough to maintain this school and repair the walls and hallways from other students' mischief, but...

For the sake of the Great Seven, he lives in a mansion and enjoys a good salary that's close to six figures, so he can spare a few thaumarks! Besides, Crowley can't even use the excuse of “crow-like nature” to take and keep shiny things. That is the behavior of a magpie!

Despite all the talk about "disrespectful puppies" and his desperate need to take a long break from his students, Crewel still loves and cares for them. And these three kids struck a chord with him, reminding him of his childhood. 

It was also heartbreaking as he walked by the Ramshackle dormitory and watched the three students cover the lower half of their faces with their shirts as they shook the dust off the blankets and old pillows they were going to sleep on tonight. 

The teacher turns to face the headmaster, who has taken his silence as an indication that the conversation is over, and returns to his paperwork, scribbling something unintelligible on the manila pages. Ugh, if only he could get out of his office to think of a solution... Wait a minute! That's it!

“All right, since you're so stubborn and selfish, you can't set foot in my office or talk to me until those kids are sleeping in a safe place and have proper food and clothing!” Crewel grabs the back of Crowley's coat, the crow man gasping in surprise as the teacher tucks the documents that were sprawled on the desk under his arm. 

He was going to threaten to quit, but he needs this job. That set of platinum rings his favorite designer released the other day won't pay for itself.

“Wha- Divus, what in the world!?” the door of the office flies open as the headmaster is unceremoniously kicked out into the hallway, a heavy pile of papers shoved hard against his chest, causing him to momentarily lose his breath. “I said what I said... I'm changing the lock on my office as well. Goodbye now.”

As soon as the piece of wood is slammed shut, Crowley snaps out of his stupor and turns to the blocked entrance, papers falling to the floor as he loudly bangs his decorated fists on the door. “DIVUS, I'M SORRY! CAN WE PLEASE TALK!?” a muffled groan interrupts his tantrum, but the potionology teacher does not attempt to get up from his chair and reason with the crow.

Whining and yelling, the headmaster continues to demand entry and a calm conversation, the complete opposite of his current childish behavior. In his stupor, the crow man fails to notice another member of the staff rounding the corner of the antique hallway, the fluffy, chubby cat in his arms yawning sleepily as his golden eyes suddenly focus on the Headmaster. 

And his owner gazes horrified at the scene.

“Crowley! What is the meaning of all this shouting!?” the booming voice of Mozus Trein echoes through the walls as the crow man turns to face the sound, his beady golden eyes widening in relief as he sprints towards the faculty member.

“Trein! Thank the Seven! Divus has gone mad! He kicked me out of my office!” before the older man can even process the scene unfolding in front of him, Crewel's angry voice intervenes from the other side. “It's MY office, Crowley. Yours is at the top of the building!”

“I thought you weren't talking to me!” he's being petty now, and he knows it, but he can't help it. “Yes, because you're making a ruckus and not respecting my boundaries! GO AWAY!” the two of them return to their pissy fight, Lucius, Trein's cat, ducks his head with an annoyed “meow” and covers his ears with his little paws.

“Enough of this display! You two should be ashamed of yourselves, you're grown men fighting like children. Imagine what would happen if a student saw you two like this. And answer my question, what caused this kerfuffle in the first place?” as Crowley opens his mouth to explain, Crewel cuts him off and sums up the situation in a matter of seconds.

The hall is filled with a palpable and tense silence as Trein's eyes narrow on the headmaster, who nervously shrinks his shoulders and twiddles his fingers. Man, he forgot how intimidating the old man really is, no wonder the students are deathly afraid of him. "Crowley, this is incredibly irresponsible of you," the crow man groans, slapping his face in frustration at the phrase that has become a mantra in the last few minutes.

"UGH! But what was I supposed to do?" he acts like a petulant child, his hands falling harshly to his sides in exasperation. From the other side of the door, Crewel coughs loudly and slips in a comment that irks Crowley to no end. "Don't put them in that dump." "Are you talking to me now!?"

“Quiet you two!” Trein interrupts again, holding his furry companion a bit tighter in his arms, a prominent vein adorning his forehead as he grows increasingly exhausted by his colleague and boss fighting like an old married couple. 

"We'll deal with it tomorrow, but I agree with Crewel that it is dangerous to let them stay in that house. Either fix the building or move them to another one."

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And that’s how the crow man finds himself stuck working in the cold office, HIS cold office, a pout on his lips as he lays the crumpled documents on the desk. Fucking Crewel, why did he suddenly turn into a mother and defend those children so much!? None of them complained when he took them to the building, even that Yuuken kid seemed excited to meet the ghosts!

Ah, whatever, he’ll deal with that later. Right now, there's the more pressing matter of repairing the Ceremonial Hall after the fiasco caused by the blue flame monster and finding a replacement nurse since the other one is on maternity leave.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts through the dimly lit office as the headmaster quickly scribbles unintelligible words on a piece of paper. The antique clock hanging above the doorway ticks away the seconds, the hands nearing together at the top, signaling that it will soon be midnight. Outside, the commotion of students running amok as they finish their dorm welcoming parties is long gone, replaced by the singing of the owls and the howling of the cold wind.

The silence and stillness are shattered when Crowley's pointed ears perk up at the sound of hurried footsteps approaching his office. He groans softly as a pair of knuckles rap urgently against the old wooden door, the crow man pushing back his fatigue as a quiet "come in" falls from his lips.

The door opens slowly, a few seconds later a recently familiar head peers over the opening and Crowley recognizes the slightly familiar face. What was your name... "Ah, (Y/N), how may I be of assistance?" you take a few steps and stand awkwardly in the doorway, curious eyes scanning the room.

Crowley thought you were the most "normal" of the three non-magical students. Figaro creeped him out during the walk back to the dormitory, sharp eyes watching every move and pestering him with rather invasive questions. In contrast, Yuuken's reactions to the ghost made the crow man think of him as an endearing, if not bizarre, naive boy. At the entrance ceremony, he mostly took you as a panicked person attempting to maintain a level head while processing copious amounts of new information.

He can't blame you. If he were in your situation, he might go crazy, too. Let's hope you don't turn into a troublemaker, he already has enough headaches to deal with.

“Sorry for barging in so late, but can I steal a few minutes of your time?” how polite! My, after all the rudeness he experienced today your well-mannered question is more than welcomed! He extends a hand with a small smile and silently beckons you to come in and not wasting a single second, you hurriedly shut the door before walking over to the desk.

“I saw a student behave and carry something suspicious while exiting the infirmary,” ‘oh well, darling, if you stick around long enough, you’ll find out that everyone in this school is suspicious, but, do spill the beans,’ he thinks while nodding along at your sentence, before stopping abruptly as a puzzled look crosses his face.

“Infirmary? I swear that door is supposed to be locked,” he whispers under his breath, brows furrowed as he urges you to continue. You tell him everything that you witnessed during your late visit to the library: the student’s erratic and twitchy behavior, the mention of a “Master” and most disturbingly, the syringe with the mysterious liquid. 

Crowley's chin rests flat on the back of his gloved hands, his elbows digging into the wooden surface as golden eyes stare off into the distance, processing the myriad thoughts floating through his mind. “Were you able to see who it was?” you give some of the details you managed to catch under the dim light but admit that you weren’t able to truly see who it was. The crow man simply nods, jotting down your words on a piece of paper.

An uneasy feeling settles in the pit of the headmaster's stomach. Originally, he thought you might have caught some students smuggling pills or antibiotics out of the infirmary, an unfortunate incident that has happened several times before, which is why the room is always locked when there isn't a nurse in it.

But this...

As if a switch had been turned on in his head, Crowley clumsily yet hastily searches through all the drawers of his desk before finding a rectangular device tucked away under some papers and trinkets. His phone. He unlocks it, his golden claw clacking harshly against the glass as he types out an urgent message to the faculty and dorm chat groups:

“ATTENTION: it’s been reported that a student has broken into the infirmary and was spotted carrying a syringe containing an unidentified liquid. The student has the following characteristics: approximately 175 cm tall, pale skin, black, dark purple or blue hair, and green or brown eyes. He was spotted exiting the room at around 11:55 p.m. wearing ceremonial robes.

It is mandatory for dorm leaders to search for this student and make a surprise inspection of each dorm room. You will be allowed to skip the first three periods of classes and have the option to have two other people assist you. Please report their names in this group chat to report them as excused from their responsibilities. If you find the person and/or object, report immediately to faculty.”

“Um, that’s all. I don’t know if you need me for anything else, so, I’ll go,” you’re about to scurry out of the cold office when Crowley calls out your name, asking you to wait. An idea crosses his panicked mind, and he knows that Crewel will definitely have his head for it, but with this incident and the lack of a nurse, he can’t leave the infirmary unoccupied. “(Y/N), how much do you know about medicine?”

The question catches you off guard, and your eyes widen momentarily in surprise before returning to their normal state as you contemplate his question. Crowley remembers your actions at the entrance ceremony when you cleaned the wound of the blond boy (whose name he doesn't remember, but the crow man associates it with a cat). 

The small homemade first-aid kit you pulled from your bag tells him that you've at least had to constantly deal with treating wounds or that you're an over-prepared person. Either way, you would work.

"Well, I've taken several first aid courses and have basic medical knowledge," the headmaster half-listens to what you mutter under your breath, something about "university" and "medical school." Eh, he doesn't care to know about the details. "Great! You're hired! Instead of reporting to the courtyard, go straight to the infirmary tomorrow morning. I expect to see you there at 6 a.m. sharp!"

A stunned gasp escapes your lips as your eyes scan the headmaster, confused by the sentence you just heard and hoping inwardly that he was joking. Instead, Crowley simply tilts his head to the side, an innocent smile on his partially covered face as he decides that this is a wonderful idea. Why, this could be an experience for you!

“H-Hold on! Isn’t this the job of the nurse!? Also… what would happen if during my shift someone gets stabbed or comes in with a broken leg!? T-The bone poking out of the skin and everything!” the crow man momentarily grimaces at the mental image, but he quickly regains his composure as an evil thought crosses his mind. 

“Do not fret! You’ll deal with superficial or minor injuries. If anything serious were to happen, just give Professor Crewel a call using the office’s phone! He'd be more than happy to help you!" Crowley exclaims as he rises from his desk, the velvety chair making a loud noise as its legs scrape against the floor. 

With a grin that could rival that of the infamous Cheshire Cat, he jots down the potionology professor’s number on a ripped piece of paper before handing it to you. ‘That’s payback for the office!’ He saunters over to the entrance, completely ignoring your horrified expression as you stare holes at the paper in your hands.

“Ah! That reminds me…” his voice snaps you out of your detrimental thoughts, curious eyes turning around to watch as the headmaster opens the door. “I’m aware that your current situation is far from ideal. Therefore, until you are back on your feet, please use the showers in the gymnasium and your meals from the cafeteria," he proudly puffs out his chest as he watches your eyes light up and you nod excitedly, quietly thanking him.

“Also, feel free to take anything from the ‘lost and found’ box in the library. We have a policy that the items that remain there for more than three months can be taken by anyone. From my knowledge, the objects there have remained for more than five months,” he adds as you head out into the hallway, and Crowley can't help but feel proud of himself. “My, aren’t I so kind?”

He ignores your face as it shifts from one of gratitude to one of disgust, too busy enjoying his generous actions. “Uh, sure… t-thanks man,” his beady golden eyes follow your figure as it fades into the distance. When you disappear as you make a right turn, Crowley gently closes the door before sighing, fingers pinching his forehead as he feels the oncoming headache.

Alright, now, to deal with this situation.

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You take your time walking back to the dorm, admiring the starry sky with each step. Your head swims with different thoughts, fueled by your chronic insomnia, as you ponder once again where you are and what you have seen. A world where magic exists and where there are ghosts, flying broomsticks, monsters, and a bunch of crazy people.

If someone had told you the day before that you would end up in a magic school, living in a dormitory that would fall if you looked at it the wrong way, you would have laughed your ass off.

Fucking hilarious.

You yawn, hot crystalline tears clouding your eyes as you rub them vigorously. You groan as the cold wind kisses your skin and you feel more awake than tired, even though the exhaustion of everything you have experienced today weighs heavily on your bones and muscles. You feel restless, but not tired. 

Frankly, you kind of hate your body.

The dead leaves and twigs crackle beneath your soles as you stuff your hands into your pockets, a morbidly familiar building creeps up from the horizon, but you watch in confusion as two pairs of lights move erratically in through the windows. Seconds later, Figaro and Yuuken almost kick down the front door as they emerge from the house, their hair disheveled and their eyes red as they sneeze and cough violently.

Your walk turns into a light jog as you approach the two men, the blond one letting out a sigh of relief when he sees you. It turns out that during your failed adventure to the library, the three ghosts of the house decided to play a prank on the Finnish man by ruffling the white sheets covering the nearby furniture in his bedroom, causing a huge cloud of dust to rise from the fabric and enter his nostrils.

On the other hand, Yuuken awoke to a tickling sensation on his hand, only to almost punch a hole in the nearby wall as a spider seemed to be happily walking on his appendage. Then part of his back began to itch and he panicked, thinking he had some kind of rash from the dirty blankets. However, when you pulled up his shirt to examine him, all you found were some red marks from his nails and, thankfully, no small bumps or any sort of physical ailment.

You, on the other hand, recounted the events and swore that the porch lit up with Figaro's excitement as you informed the two men of Crowley's offer. He even started bouncing on the balls of his feet at the mention of a free shower. But when the chatter dies down and the only sound is the song of the nocturnal animals, the three of you stare back at the intimidating building.

“I’m not going back in there,” Fígaro whispers in a scratchy voice, his eyes still watering from the sneeze attack. “Where else are we supposed to sleep though?” you retort, not too thrilled about the idea of going back to the house and laying your back against the stiff and dirty mattress. Yuuken is rather quiet, a thoughtful hand scratching his chin before an idea pops into his head, bright eyes turning to look at you both.

“Why don’t we sleep outside? It’ll be like camping, just without a tent,” you almost snort out loud at the sight of Figaro's face contorting into an expression of astonishment, eyes wide open as the blond man is rendered speechless. “Are you mad!? And what, get our eyes clawed out by some bizarre three-headed night creature!?” the Kendo student crosses his burly arms over his chest, quietly clicking his tongue in disapproval at the Finnish man's words.

“Is either this or you sleeping back inside that dust-infested room… Or you can also clean out another bedroom, but, Pembroke and I aren’t going to help you, we’re tired,” the booming voice of Yuuken echoes through the dilapidated porch, his intimidating side finally coming out to the moonlight. But, Fígaro doesn’t seem to back down, even though he’s quietly stunned for a few seconds. His body rapidly turns around to you, blue eyes scanning your face. “Please, tell me that you’re with me on this one.”

“Eh, I’m not. I’ve slept on the balcony of my house multiple times and nothing happened, so, Yuuken’s idea is fine by me,” you shrug, the blonde man gawking at your words. To be honest, you've slept in worse places and the idea of falling asleep under the stars doesn't bother you at all. “Dude, calm down. The most that will happen is that we’ll get some bug bites.”

You would have thought about it more if you'd been a little more awake, but all your rationality was thrown out the window as you suddenly felt more sleepy and tired. Finally.

And so, with two votes against one, you found yourselves lying on a thick blanket spread out on the dead grass, the branches of a nearby tree serving as your cover, at Fígaro's request. The whiny blonde is snuggled between you and Yuuken's back, having insisted on the spot because he was cold and “forced by both of you to participate in such an activity.”

The Kendo student didn't give a damn about his complaints, shushing him between sleepy yawns, too exhausted to argue with him about the stupid place in the makeshift bed. Meanwhile, you were more concerned about the fact that you'd only be able to sleep for a few hours before you had to go to work. Will you have enough energy?

You hope so. A good shower and a strong cup of coffee should give you a boost tomorrow morning.

As the blades of grass gently nudge your back, the three of you say a quiet good night. Your heavy eyes finally begin to close, the cold wind gently kissing your skin as the soft snores and tired breaths of your new roommates lull you into a deep sleep.

The three of you fail to hear the horrifying screams of Crewel and the booming laughter of Ashton Vargas, the gym teacher, as the two faculty members watch you sleep under the tree.

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Tag list:

@rotknox @agaygothicmushroom @sherryclover @mielle-estelar @yuriluvr2000 @Shironakuronatasa @yourlocalhot-simp @stvrbrighttt @tearsofgenshin @mewmew-dream @lehn2206 @coleisyn

[kirarinlovesidols]

Prologue Part 3.

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You had a pretty awful time trying to sleep for many reasons. A couple of them being Grim’s snoring, the weird noises in the middle of the night and the random bolts of lightning that would hit conveniently only when you were almost falling asleep. You’re so glad you don’t need to sleep.

Biologically speaking both you and the Greater Lord were a bit closer to plants. You didn’t need to sleep or eat, as long as you had sunlight and water you were fine. Still it didn’t mean you couldn’t indulge in those things as luxuries and after the day you had yesterday, you kinda needed to shut down for a while.

Though you can’t only do what you want in life, if at all.

As you were about to take Grim out of the unfortunate spot he somehow ended up on, which was your neck, you heard a familiar voice of one of the ghosts.

“Hee hee hee... Aren't the two of you supposed to be off cleaning the school today?” You turned your head to the side just to see all three of them surrounding your bed.

“Mmmmm... Nngh... Five more minutes, Ma…” You immediately grabbed Grim and took him off his ‘’’’’favored’’’’’ spot in a rush.

“Grim, wake up! they’re back!”  You said nervously. They were goofy looking but still could very much hurt you if they wished to do so.

The cat wakes up in confusion only to see you holding it in front of your face and a bunch of ghosts.

“MYAHHH! THEY’RE BACK!” So you two repeated the act of yesterday. Where you held the monster like a weapon and he drove them away.

“Don’t go grabbin’ me! and don’t use me as a shield either!” He complained as soon as you were done, wiggling out of your hold.

“I’m sorry! i didn’t mean to…but you wouldn’t wake up and i had no choice!” You apologized making a mental note to make it up to Grim later somehow.

Before this escalated any further Crowley walked inside the room, without even knocking.

“Good morning, Miss Rukkha. Did you sleep well?” The man had something in his arms, it looked like some kind of folded cloth.

“Ah! ye-”  You were about to lie just to not seem ungrateful but your roommate had other plans.

“Not at all! When I sprawled out on the bed, the mattress fell right through the frame!” Oh yeah. That was another one of the reasons you couldn’t sleep well.

“I-It wasn’t that bad though! i’m sure he doesn’t mean that!” You tried your best to cover for it only for Grim to crush your efforts.

“Are ya kiddin’ me? exactly how ramshackle IS this dorm? And worse yet, we got woken up by ghosts!” You covered your face with your hands in despair. Just great, now he would think badly of you.

The man didn’t seem to mind though. As he only walked over to you and handed you what you now recognize as overalls and a simple black shirt to put underneath.

“Well, it surely beats being outside in the rain. Now, consider this another sign of my great kindness. Surely you can’t work without appropriate attire.” You took the outfit from his hands with a smile.

“Thank you, sir! i’ll do my best!” You were relieved he apparently didn’t let Grim’s negative comments sway his generosity. Surely he only wanted the best for you.

In truth Crowley didn’t want to bother at all, he only did due to seeing you in your usual Lesser Lord ensemble. That would attract way too much attention and he couldn’t have that.

After that both him and Grim left the room at your request so you could change. Your eyes stared at your figure in the mirror now that you had your “janitor uniform” on. You struggled a bit to make the shirt fit, it was a bit small but it would have to do.

Since your hair was way too long you also had to put it up in a ponytail to make sure it wouldn't get in the way of your work. Feeling satisfied with the result you just had one thing left to check.

The scratch Grim gave you yesterday. It was almost healed by now. Seems like your regenerative habilities are still working, just slower. Well, better than nothing.

Getting out of the room you and Grim followed your “kind employer” as he explained what he expected out of both of you, which was cleaning the area spanning from the front gates to the library. You aren’t exactly too knowledgeable about cleaning but how hard could it be, right?

Grim immediately protested against the notion fo cleaning but you managed to convince him by reminding him of the kind of books there could be in the library, like how to become a great mage or something.

You’re very sorry for doing that.

⟥────────✤────────────────────⟤

“Wow, so this is Main Street, huh? This is incredible!” Grim said as he tried his best to see all there was to the entrance. He looked excited and giddy however you had to tell him something very important.

“Grim? don’t forget we’re here to clean…” It’s not like you didn’t believe him but he still seemed on the fence about it all.

“I know, i know! don’t remind me!” The cat rolled his eyes before resuming his observations.

“I didn't get to see it much yesterday. What's the deal with these seven statues? All their faces look pretty scary. Like, this lady here looks like she's got some reeeal anger management issues.” He stopped by the foot of the statue and you had to raise a brow there. 

Anger management issues was awfully specific, a bit weird he went there. Still you couldn’t bring yourself to disagree, maybe it was her expression that seemed like it could change any time. And you swore you saw her eyes open and look at you.

Before you could even mention it you heard a voice coming from behind.

“You don't know the Queen of Hearts?” Turning around you both saw a boy with ginger hair, red eyes that had a charming boyish glint and a weird…heart tattoo? or was it makeup? on the corner of his face.

“Queen of Hearts? Is she some kinda big deal?” Grim looked at the boy in question curiously.

“She was a queen who lived in a mazelike garden of roses long, long ago. She was a strict woman who prized order above all. She wouldn't tolerate a rose being off-color, or her  playing-card soldiers being out of step.” You couldn’t help but find that suffocating, perhaps it was the way of nobility?

“She basically ruled over a kingdom of madness, but not one of her subjects dared to defy her. You wanna know why? Because the punishment for breaking a rule was immediate decapitation!” You just did a double take with a horrified expression. That was just awful! how did she want people to ever respect her that way?

“Isn’t….isn’t that essentially tyranny?” You asked in a worried tone.

“Wah! That is seriously messed up!” Yeah, you really agreed with Grim on that one.

“Pretty cool, right? I'm a big fan. I mean, who would bother to obey a queen that was kind all the time?” You thought back at Greater Lord Kusanali and how she’s been nothing but kind to her subjects for all those years. Maybe her being so nice backfired as soon as she exhausted her powers but…you were sure they still respected her.

“I would….that doesn’t really sound like someone i would like to follow….” You looked to the side in awkwardness as stories of fictional rules who got overthrown by their subjects played in your mind.

“Yeah, true. A leader needs to be strong. But puttin' that aside... Who're you, now?” You disagreed on that take but it would take forever to explain why so you don’t interject.

“Name's Ace. I'm a first year student here, as of... today! Pleased to meetcha!” He extended his hand at you so you took it, forming a handshake.

“Oh! Nice to meet you too! I’m-” You got rudely interrupted.

“I'm Grim! I'm a prodigy whos plannin' to be, like, the greatest mage who ever lived.”  Grim then pointed his paw at you—  “That there's my far less interesting hench-human.” You just looked at him disappointedly.

“Don’t you mean friends, Grim?” You corrected him with a strained smile on your face.

“Nah, I mean what i said.”  Well! that was beyond mean!

Still, Ace nodded at the cat’s introduction and turned his gaze to you again.

“Rukkha, right? Name's got an odd ring to it.” He smiled as he let your hand go.

“It’s the shorter version of it…It’s actually Rukkhadevata but it’s too long, right? so you can just call me Rukkha, it’s probably easier.” You rambled slightly in nervousness. Your lack of social skills were showing.

“Also please don’t take him calling me his “hench-human” seriously, he’s kidding.” You weren’t about to let him just demote you like that, it was genuinely not nice.

Ace just giggled at your explanation.

“So tell me, Ace. Is that lion with a scar in the eye a famous ruler too?” You looked at the statue in question with the same amount of curiosity. So even animals marked history in this world, huh? it didn’t surprise you considering Grim could talk.

“Of course! That's the King of Beasts who ruled the savanna.” A lion being the king of beasts? you thought it was very fitting.

“But he wasn't born into the throne - he had to earn it through hard work and elaborate schemes. When he became king, he decreed that the hyenas would be pariahs no more, and should live among his subjects as equals.” You had a feeling that those “schemes” he mentioned had a lot more to them.

A second born cannot inherit the throne unless something happened to the first born and their heirs, or if the ruler just chose based on meritocracy. You didn’t know the story so you wouldn’t assume things but…it just seemed to weird to you.

And if Grim thought it was weird too, he didn’t mention it. “Sounds like a great guy! Not everyone's able to look past social status like that.” He nodded his little head as if acknowledging and respecting the figure of the statue.

“And who's the lady with the octopus legs?” Oh! now that’s something you haven’t seen! as far as you knew Teyvat didn’t have people who were part aquatic creature. This world is shaping to be way more interesting than you thought.”

“The Sea Witch who lived in an underwater grotto. She basically devoted her life to helping troubled merfolk. If they were willing to pay the price, she'd help them change their appearance, find love, whatever!” This woman seemed really incredible…you’re pretty sure most of such problems depended on the person, it almost seemed too good to be true…

“They say she was so good, there was no wish she couldn't grant. They also say the price was a tad steep, though. But she was granting wishes! Of course it was!” And there it was, the price. You suppose it was fair considering not even archons in your world granted wishes for free.

“Myaha! So you're sayin' that once I'm a great mage, gettin' rich off folks will be a total cinch?!” That’s not what Ace said at all and you would rather not have Grim swindling people for a living.

“Grim that isn’t very nice….please don’t scam people when you become a great mage…” You hoped your words would reach him somehow, even if he just ignored you.

“Oh, oh! Do the dude with the big hat next!” The monster looked lik a kid in a candy store,at least that was cute.

“That's the Sorcerer of the Sands. He was an advisor to a total dolt of a sultan. He was asmart guy. Really capable sort. He exposed this swindler once - some guy pretending to be a prince in order to trick the princess! After that, he got this magic lamp and became the greatest sorcerer in the world.” Then, they say...... he used that power to become sultan

himself!”  What about the old sultan? again with these weird ascensions to royalty without explaining properly? this was already the second time…you hoped it was just your imagination or your habit of reading too much into things.

“Wow! Guess it's true that a mage needs to be an excellent judge of character, huh? And what about this beauty over here?” Indeed the woman was very pretty but she…somehow…looked dangerous? maybe you shouldn’t judge a book by it’s cover.

“She's a queen who was said to be the fairest in all the land. In fact, she used her magic mirror to check how she ranked on a daily basis! When it looked like her position was threatened, they say she'd do whatever it took to keep it.” Oh, Forget it…there’s no way someone who checked her beauty rank daily wasn’t dangerous…you shivered at the mention of her doing whatever it took.

“Can you even imagine the level of dedication it would require to keep a record like that?

Also, they say she was a master of making poisons!” Yep, there it is. What’s wrong with the historical figures of this place?

“Geez. She's pretty, but that sounds kinda scary.” You and Grim were in a row today, huh?

“You think so? I gotta respect the hustle!” Ace looked at the statue, his smile never leaving his face.

“Uh…i guess she knowing how to make poisons could be useful but…i can’t imagine her doing anything good with that…”

“F-for sure... Sounds like she fought hard for what she believed in, and never gave up!” You glanced at your roommate with visible confusion. How did he manage to get something good out of that?

“And the one there, with the flaming head? Now THAT guy looks scary!” Hm…you didn’t particularly think he looked scary, his flaming hair reminded you of how some people talked about Natlan’s archon. You’ve never seen her yourself, of course, however everyone who went to natlan all had multiple things to say and one of them were how her hability to turn her hair into flames was very cool.

“That's the King of the underworld! Single-handedly ruling a kingdom packed with rambunctious spirits - that takes competence! He may look scary, but he was a straight shooter who worked tirelessly at a tough job he never even asked for.I mean, this is the guy who was ordering Cerberus, the Hydra, and the Titans into battle for him.” Ace shrugged matter of factly.

You had no idea what he was talking about near the end, must be something related to the history of this planet. Still, underworld and spirits? a place where people’s souls go, you guessed.

“Hmm. That IS something. T'think he could have that much power and not let it go to his head! And that last one there, with the horns?” Grim pointed to the last figure and she looked very elegant, holding a staff of sorts.

“That's the Thorn Fairy who lived on a mythical mountain. She was noble and elegant, and a master of magic and curses - even by the standards of these seven! She commanded storms, covered the kingdom with thorns... She could use magic on a massive scale!

She could even turn herself into a giant dragon.”  A dragon?! now that sounded preposterous. Just how the magic in this world worked? it sounded crazier by the second.

“Ooh. a dragon! What all monsters yearn to be!” The cat’s eyes glimmered in admiration as he looked at the woman known as the “thorn fairy”

“Pretty cool, huh? Not like some piddling weasel.” Ace’s tone seemed to have suddenly changed to pure mocking.

You turned your head to look at him just to see if you actually heard right but of course you did. Just look at how big your ears are.

“Myah?!” Grim let out a yelp in shock.

“Pfft... Ah ha ha! I can't hold it back anymore! Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Come on, you're the ones who turned orientation into such a fiasco, right?” He wiped tears off his eyes as he pointed at you two who could only stare at Ace dumbfounded.

Ok. Maybe you did crash a very important otherwordly ceremony but it wasn’t your fault! you got spirited away against your will, what were you supposed to do? be burned by a feline that can use pyro energy or just suffocate do death inside a coffin?

“The fae girl with unstable magic that got summoned to an all-boys school and the monster no one summoned at all. It took everything I had not to burst into laughter right in the middle of the ceremony!” Oh again with this unstable stuff? you’re never going to live that one down, are you?

Either way you still felt embarrassed and a bit guilty for what happened so your face burned in embarrassment against your will, which only fueled Ace’s sudden sadistic behavior.

“I-it’s not! listen! i said i was sorry to the headmage and we’re all good, ok?!” You conveyed 0 credibility, no one would believe that.

“H-hey! You don't gotta be a jerk about it!” Your roommate seemed taken aback too, you guessed he didn’t feel good about that whole mess as well.

“So in the end, neither of you got admitted, and now you're janitors? Ah ha ha! SO lame!” This was starting to get out of hand and going past the limits of what’s acceptable, just WHY were people here so mean?

“Can you stop being mean? we didn’t do anything to you! we have an agreement with Crowley so…if…if you’re unhappy then just talk to him instead!” You said fighting against the desire to dig a hole and crawl into it.

The boy’s smirk still refused to leave his face, it seemed like he enjoyed torturing you both. He wouldn’t let you know he thought your distressed expression was cute though, or that you were cute, yep, no.

“What did you just call me?!” Grim’s fur stood on it’s end as he hissed at Ace.

Uh-oh….seems like he didn’t enjoy being called a janitor even if that’s essentially what you two were…

“Seriously you're both so clueless you don't even know who the Great Seven are. Not a one of them! Maybe before you try getting into the academy again, you ought to take a second crack at kindergarten? Ah ha ha ha ha!” Oh c’mon, you weren’t even from this world how would you know?

Still all this just wasn’t worth it and you and Grim had a job to do so you just calmed down and walked to the middle so you could stand in between Ace and your very very angry roommate, trying to mediate and possibly avoid conflict.

“Listen, Ace…there’s no need to talk to us like that. We’re sorry and repenting about the ceremony so just get to class before you get late.” You tried to sound like the bigger person and do the right thing but the way you talked ticked the ginger boy slightly.

“Huh? who do you think you are nagging me like that? my mom? Anyway, just thought I'd tease you a bit. And man am I glad I did. It's been a blast! Unlike you, I actually have classes to get to, so I'll let you get back to picking up trash. Bye!” He totally didn’t decide to go to class cause a cute girl told him to, nah, he would never admit that.

He should ask you for your number sometime.

“Myuh-uh! You ain't walkin' away from me! It's too late for that! Myaaaaah!” There’s no way this is happening. 

Without even thinking about consequences Grim shot a fireball at Ace who miraculously dodged.

“GRIM!? You’ll hurt him! don’t do that! didn’t you hear him saying he was leaving?!”

You were trying your best to fix this situation and this cat STILL wanted to fight despite the main instigator preparing to leave. Just what were you telling Crowley? needless to say you were losing your mind.

“No one makes fun of Grim, Master of Fire! I'm gonna make that explodey-head of yours explode all over again!” He stomped his little feet on the ground as if trying to show the world how pissed off he was.

“Oh archons! let’s all just…calm down!” You tried to scoop up the cat only for him to swat his claws in your direction as a warning to stay out of it.

“Explodey-head?! You wanna throw down with me, shorty? You got some guts.” Ace got up from the spot he had to jump in order to dodge the fireball of earlier and took some kind of…pen out of his pocket— “You wanna talk hair, huh? I'm gonna shave you like a toy poodle!” The jewel on the “pen” glowed a bright red as the wind suddenly started picking up, easily blowing the cat away.

It seems like you really couldn’t stop this anymore.

You then immediately made the same motion of a square with your fingers so you could “mark” him. Basically all you needed was to use him as a tether to materialize something that could only be described as a rope made out of dendro energy and pulled him back to you before he went flying to god knows where.

You were about to catch him in your arms when he just spun his body mid-air and fell on his feet.

Of course…he’s a cat after all, he would’ve been fine….

You yourself wonder what goes through your head when making stupid decisions like these.

“You can’t use wind to blow away my fire balls you coward!” Of course he didn’t even thank you, classic Grim.

What's going on over there? A fight?!

Oh, sweet! Get 'em!

Dude dude, record it! post it on magicam!

Now there were people watching and cheering for the fight to continue, this really couldn’t get any worse.

“Can you two please calm down?! you’ll get hurt at this rate!” You made the rope disappear as you begged the two to stop it before it escalated any further.

“Awww... Can't hit me with your little fireballs?” Ace taunted and you swore you could see steam coming out of Grim’s already on fire ears.

“Grrr... You better believe I'm about to!” And then hell broke loose yet again it was an unending barrage of fireballs against wind currents that were just as strong.

You were seriously getting angry.

When you were about to put both of them inside one of your very own signature dendro “cages” a particular heavy wind gust sent a fireball to your way. At that you immediately put up a barrier but that was just an even worse mistake.

The fireball bounced off your dendro wall and ended up hitting the statue of the queen of hearts.

Oh.

My.

Archons.

You were absolutely cooked.

All three of you stood there watching in horror at how charred a literal statue made to honor a historical figure now looked. It was almost like it was left inside some burning museum and was barely took out of there in time.

“Oh no! Now the Queen of Hearts's statue looks like it's been flame-broiled!” The ginger boy screamed in despair as he looked at the result of his short temper.

“That's your fault for tryin' to divert it! You shoulda just let it burn you to a crisp!” Grim growled at his enemy with enough bark to put a dog to shame despite being a cat.

“And who in their right mind would ever do that you dumbass?!” The other boy said incredulously.

“What is going on here? Cease this at once!” Aaaaaaaand there he is! the voice of the person you wanted to see the least right now.

God you felt like you were going to cry.

Unfortunately you felt like you were frozen in place as you stared at the burnt face of that queen, you could barely hear Crowley grilling the two boys behind you.

All you could think about was how you literally caused so much trouble and disgraced yourself in front of a figure of authority, again.

You just couldn’t do anything right, huh? 

This is why you weren’t needed.

She wouldn’t have let this happen, she would’ve managed to calm both of them down with her immense carisma and elegant aura. 

As expect of the Lesser Lord.

That’s all you’ll ever be.

A hand on your shoulder broke your trance.

You looked back to see who it belonged to.

“Did I not just warn you, ‘no more incidents’ ”

You could only whisper a meek “I’m sorry” before being guided away from the commotion followed by the other two main reasons of this tragedy.

You really can’t catch a break.

⟥────────✤────────────────────⟤

What if you were writing, literally locked in and god said:

“Illness be upon ye” ?

Yes i’ve been bedridden with fever since fucking saturday, what a nightmare.

Also thank you all very much for all the compliments on this mess asjfasdhgsakj

it makes me happy it’s interesting to yall.

Final part coming soon!

Taglist: @coffee-or-hot-cocoa , @m-majoko , @ghostlysyntaxed , @justanormiewhoreads

[noforkingclue]

For a req can I please have soft dark Crowley and Aziraphale taking care of a sick reader? Your head is pounding, you're burning up, achy, and weak. You can't do anything but lie in bed and let Crowley and Aziraphale take care of you. They'd tuck you in, make you take medicine, feed you soup, read to you so you don't get too bored, just hold your hand - It's the first time you've ever tolerated their touch. Imagine the shock when instead of flinching, and with the fever making you delirious you lean into the cool hand on your cheek! Crowley's even softer with you with you like this, so pitiful and helpless. So what if they "forget" the fact that they could just heal you instantaneously. and?

Of course anon! I love writing for Good Omens and I hope you like the fic :)

Title: In Sickness and in Health

Warnings: dark fic

You let out a low groan and opened your eyes a crack as a cool hand pressed itself against your forehead. You closed your eyes quickly as a bright light assaulted them and snuggled under the warm duvet. The person above your sighed and a soft voice said,

“Come now, dear. Sit up. You haven’t eaten anything in a while. Humans need to eat.”

That voice. Somewhere in the back of your mind you were screaming to yourself to resist the voice. However, soft hands pulled away the protection of the duvet and gently positioned you to sit upright. You let out a low groan and the person made a sympathetic noise. Slowly you re-opened your eyes, letting them get used to the brightness. Aziraphale smiled at you and gently stroked your head.

“Don’t you think you can eat?” he asked

You shook your head. The thought of food made you want to throw up. Aziraphale gave you a disapproving look.

“It’s only soup,” he said “homemade. You haven’t eaten anything since yesterday.”

“I don’t-”

Another body landed heavily beside you and Aziraphale gave the newcomer a disapproving look. Crowley shrugged and took off his sunglasses and tossed them onto a side table. He practically curled up next to you, tangling his legs with yours. You were too weak to push him away and he said,

“Angel spent all day making that. Are you really going to let all his hard work go to waste?”

“Now then dear-” Aziraphale started but cut himself off

“I guess,” you said weakly, “I should eat something.”

“Good,” you could hear the relief in Aziraphale’s voice, “just as much as you can manage. You don’t have to eat everything, dear.”

Slowly you allowed him to spoon feed you. Fuck, you felt like a child. You couldn’t remember the last time someone fed you. Even when you were well, Aziraphale and Crowley always let you feed yourself. Probably because they knew you couldn’t hurt them with the cutlery provided. In any normal situation you wouldn’t have allowed this. Your pride, and dislike of the angel and demon, wouldn’t have allowed for it. However, your cold hand rendered you practically useless. You were too weak to fight back.

“Good girl,” said Aziraphale softly, “don’t you feel better now that you’ve eaten something?”

You hated that he was right. Instead of answering you closed your eyes and leant against Crowley. You thought that he stiffened under your touch, but it was so brief that it was probably just your fever making you imagine things. You slowly felt yourself as long fingers rubbed circles against your shoulder. When they were both certain you were fast asleep, Aziraphale settled on your other side. The bowl had been miracled away.

“Still having doubts, Angel?” asked Crowley

Aziraphale pursed his lips as he looked down at your sleeping figure. Part of him hated seeing you like this. However, the other part, the part that he tried so desperately to ignore, liked it. He liked that you had to rely on him and Crowley to look after you. He knew that they could just miracle you better but seeing you like this, well, maybe Crowley did have a point.

“I suppose,” Aziraphale said eventually, “we could keep her like this for a couple more days before making her feel better. Gradually of course. No need to make her suspicious.”

[buryustogether]

the end of forever (god’s day)

aziraphale x reader x crowley

summary: the end of forever comes on god’s day.

word count: 2.6k

warnings/tags: angst, mentions of blood

author’s note: dedicated to @avocado-writing , with whom i did a fic trade and this was my piece!! this fic is part of their good omens original timeline, and i highly recommend reading it!!! <333

The end of forever started on a Saturday evening.

Granted, it was not the Saturday evening that dominates the beginning to every weekend, fitted with gentle rainfall pattering against the windows, and a book propped in your lap, and the comfortable ambiance of your lovers on either side as you let yourself be lulled into peace. Instead it was a dark, thrashing kind of Saturday, filled with panicked whispers over dances, and demons busting down the bookshop windows in hails of twinkling glass. It was blinding, seared into the forefront of your mind with traces of a halo detached from its angel and a pair of souls running away, bound for opposite sides of the universe and forever vanished into one corner together.

And, of course, it was snapped up in the jaws of the Metatron. He had taken Aziraphale for a stroll around the block once or twice, leaving you and Crowley to stare down the mess of what had become the bookshop and wonder if perhaps this had all been a dream.

“Fancy breakfast at the Ritz, love?” Crowley had said as the pair of you began to pluck cracked books from the floor and stack them to be restored and reshelved. With a wave of his slender fingers, he had sent the shards of glass cascading through the air like a silent breeze back to where they belonged in the window frames. “Reckon we deserve it, after a night like that.”

“Sure you’ll be able to handle the drive?” you had said and handed him the empty fire extinguisher, which had fallen down the winding iron staircase. “I’m sure you’re exhausted, Crowley. Spending all that time in Heaven? Must have been awfully straining on you.”

Though he would never admit it, Crowley rather enjoyed it when you fussed over him. He relished in the worry threading your voice together, craved the inevitable babying that accompanied your measures of protection. His chest had puffed slightly, and if you could have seen them, you were sure his wings had ruffled a bit.

“I’ll be alright,” he’d assured, then dropped into the chair he had long ago claimed as his beside Aziraphale’s desk. “Wouldn’t say no to a nap when we come back, though. Could sleep for a few decades, I think. Skip all the garish drama that’s sure to follow something like this. Care to join, nightingale?”

You had smiled at him, eyes full of exhaustion and yet at the same time, the restlessness that came with the knowledge part of your trio was still missing from the picture. “Afraid I can only keep you company a few hours,” you mused. “Immortal as I am, I don’t think I can lie still long enough until you decide to wake up.” Despite your teasing, you reached out your hand to caress his jaw, and he leaned into your warm touch. He knew it like he knew his own breath in his throat at this point, but he still nuzzled into your palm like an animal seeking warmth. Funny enough creature as he was, he was still, deep down, a demon searching your soul for any glimpse of love you might spare him. “I’m glad you’re okay, Crowley,” you said, letting your voice lower in volume so he understood you had dropped your jokes and cracks. “I don’t think I could bear losing you. Either of you.”

He had leaned up to kiss you then, lips and tongue seeking yours like, in spite of your words, one side or the other might tear you away from him. He tasted like cinnamon - an odd enough musk for him, but he had just returned from Heaven, after all. You were sure he hated it. But you had drank it in like it was the last thing you’d taste before you fell.

You found yourself some time later amongst the back shelves of the shop, knees and the heels of your hands aching as you painstakingly wiped away and polished the spots on the floor upon which unholy blood had been spilt and spattered. Aziraphale would not care to have those on his tile, thank you. A voice in the back of your head told you that one of your boys could simply miracle the mess away, but this seemed a bit more intimate - cleaning up the mess for your lover. This was your shop, too, in a way. And you wanted to rid it of any trace of what had happened here last night.

You only realized it was Sunday morning - God’s day - when you heard the bell above the front door jingle with its familiar chime, and the low rumble of your lover’s voices filled the empty space between the air. You couldn’t hear what they were saying, not over the sound of your brush against the floor and the dull ache in your lower back. After a long few minutes, you sat back and inspected your work.

Like the demon invasion of Fell and Co. had never even happened.

You were just about to call out to your boys when you heard a sharp hiss to Crowley’s voice that caused your heart to skip a beat. You twisted your head around to face the front of the store. Crowley only ever hissed when he let his disguise slip and his tongue split. And he only ever let his tongue split when he was so distraught not even a raging thunderstorm could comfort him.

Wiping your hands on your legs, you cautiously made your way through the organized maze of shelves toward the front entrance of the bookshop. There stood your lovers, the angel and the demon, staring one another down like they had never met, like their love had vaporized, like they had never met in that garden at the beginning.

“What’s happened?” you said and made your presence known as you stepped down into the threshold. “What’s wrong?”

Aziraphale turned to face you, obviously making an effort to brighten his features, but it was Crowley who faced away. Dropped his weight onto his arm against the desk. Reached up to tug off his shades, toss them aside hard enough that the lens cracked in its frame. The air crackled with a kind of tension that reared its head so rarely it was almost foreign to you. Or, perhaps, was that divine energy rippling the air, stirred and upset by the creatures standing before you?

“Darling,” said Aziraphale, then reached out to take your hands and placed kisses upon your knuckles. His lips were plump and soft, and when they made contact with the skin of your hand, a tiny sense of ease washed over your veins. “You needn’t worry about this. Just a… little dispute.”

“Oh, don’t lie to her like a child,” seethed Crowley from across the room, and whatever ease had settled your nerves disappeared in the blink of an eye. You felt your blood turn to ice beneath your skin when you heard a wobble, a shake, in his voice. Was your demon… holding back tears? He bared his teeth, which he’d allowed to sharpen like blades, and jutted out an accusatory finger toward his husband. “Tell them, or I bloody will,” he snapped, then lifted a deadly brow. “And you won’t like the way I phrase things, angel.”

Alarm blared like a siren in your head, flashed like lights that burned your eyes even through your lids. You knew at once this surely had something to do with last night, with the Metatron, and you were unable to stop yourself from snapping around to stare at Aziraphale expectantly. Where you searched for comfort and reassurance, you found only irritation and exasperation.

“Aziraphale,” you said, gripping his hands tighter as you gently shook your head with confusion. You only barely managed to keep your voice from shaking; something was very, very wrong. This was not like the time two hundred years ago when they had stopped talking to one another for a decade. This was far more serious, far more dangerous. “Aziraphale, what’s happening?”

Your angel stared into your eyes - or, perhaps, he was staring at his own reflection in your irises - and he let out a breath you had not heard him take in. “The Metatron,” he began slowly, softly, like you were a spooked animal who would run if he talked too loud, “has given me a generous, generous offer.”

From across the room, Crowley scoffed over his shoulder and gave another hiss from between his teeth.

“Based on a few of the…” Aziraphale seemed to struggle with the words. “Good deeds that have been performed the last six thousand years, Heaven has agreed to allow me back into its order - as the Supreme Archangel, now that Gab… Jim has vacated his position.” Despite the slow, sinking feeling growing like a black hole in your gut as he went on, the beginnings of an excited smile played upon the corners of his lips. “And they’ve even offered to redeem Crowley - as an angel again!”

The bookshop was a deadly kind of quiet, the kind that filled empty spaces with fear, and dread, and horror until there was nothing left but a rotting mess. Your mouth hung agape as you tried to process your angel’s words, tried to swallow down what he’s just said. Heaven wanted him back - would take Crowley back. That would be it. Their time on Earth would come to a close, a thunderous applause, a devastating end.

Yet there was a single question that hung tight in the air, one that waited like a dagger above each of your heads, waiting to see who would speak of it first.

Could you handle the sting when it planted itself in your back? “Aziraphale,” you heard yourself whisper as your brows knitted together and tears puddled in the corners of your eyes, “what about me?”

Though you could not see it, Crowley shut his eyes and pursed his lips, still attempting to stop the tears from falling down the gaunt planes of his cheeks. He knew the answer already, knew his angel far too well to pretend it could be anything different. He wanted to protect you from it, clasp his hands over your ears and snarl and snap at the world until he’d frightened everything that could hurt you far, far away. But you had to hear this.

Aziraphale swallows thick, holding your hands a bit tighter, like you might bolt from his grasp any moment. Even when you shift, he grips you in an iron grasp. “Well,” he drawls slowly, hesitation creeping into the corners of his voice, “of course, Heaven can’t grant holy status to… ah… humans. Immortal or not, I’m afraid, my love. But do you know angels hold the ability to possess human souls within themselves? Keep them safe and sound - isn’t that lovely? Why, I’m not the first angel in history to find a human they can’t let go of.” His hold tightens again, turning your skin pale where he grips you. “I - we could bring you with us. Your soul, darling.”

Every ounce of curiosity, of worry and fear, has morphed into a single sickening, dripping, venomous sensation that floods your systems, encases your body like a cocoon swallowing you whole; horror.

“You want to take my soul to Heaven,” you said quietly, so terribly softly that it was barely above a whisper. “Like a pet.” With this, you yanked your hands from Aziraphale’s and forced yourself to take three steps back. It stung like knives between your ribs to do so, to bear the expression painting itself across your husband’s face, but there was no other choice. “Aziraphale, you would trade us - trade this - to go back to them? After what they’ve done to you?” You took another step back, and you felt yourself bump into the chest of your demon. “After what they did to Crowley?”

You had always heard betrayal hurt worse from a lover than anyone else. Was this what betrayal felt like? Like stones in your pocket with a river pulling you under? Like venom slowly sucking your life from your very veins.

“No, of course not,” your angel tried, raising his hands. He opened his mouth to go on, then threw up a palm and sniffed out an exasperated huff. “If you both would just try and understand…”

“Oh, we understand plenty.” There came no term of endearment at the end of Crowley’s statement, no playful lilt or head nod. Only the cold, piercing gaze of those yellow eyes, and the slow wrapping of his hands around your arms, pulling you closer against him.

The movement caught Aziraphale’s eye, and hellfire flashed within them. “Oh, I should have known it would go this way,” he chided, pacing forward. “Here I thought you could, for once, Crowley, suppress your demonic ways of swaying her to your side. For once! Are you satisfied, you old serpent? Are you content with what’s happening?”

“How dare you!” The shout came from deep within your chest, an explosive rage nothing short of a scream that leaves the angel frozen where he stands. Those ocean eyes flicker to yours as you at last allow yourself to cry, to feel the sobs wrack your body like earthquakes and feel the tears gathering at the point of your chin. “How dare you let them come between us, Aziraphale! Between us!” You choked a bit and your angel visibly fought a battle within himself, wanting to pull away and surge forward all at once. “After everything… after everything we’ve been through, everything we’ve built, and you want to leave it to play God.”

“Of course I’m not leaving us,” your angel murmured, the crows feet against his eyes making themselves known as he knits his brows. Tears brim the edges of his vision. “I - I would be taking us with me. To somewhere safe… for all of us.”

“No,” you exhaled shakily, feeling Crowley’s fingers tighten around your upper arms. You shook your head at Aziraphale, your ears ringing and heart shattered. “Not safe for us. Better for you.” You peered into his eyes, into those watery blue eyes you could have drowned in, and saw your reflection staring back as he searched for something he could not find. “You miss Heaven, Aziraphale. You always have - and we know that. We all do.” There came a terrible, horrible, dreadful pause. “But we can’t go with you. We won’t.”

Your angel seemed at a loss for words. He simply stood there, staring you and his husband down. He gaped. Tried to form words. Took a step back.

Above you, his fingers now digging so tightly, so fiercely, so protectively, into your skin that his nails left marks, Crowley sneered and hissed in a voice filled with the desolation of a fallen angel, “You idiot.” You turned your face and tucked it into his shirt. “We could have been… us.”

Aziraphale said nothing for a very, very long time. Then he murmured, “I forgive you both.”

The bell over the door jingled, and he was gone, without leaving so much as a feather behind.

You sobbed loudly, awfully, horribly into Crowley’s chest, and you felt his own unholy, burning tears fall against your hairline as he stroked your tresses and kept you standing.

The end of forever started on a Saturday evening, and ended on a Sunday morning.

It was God’s day, after all.

[createserenity]

Reunions and the sound of glass

I don't often analyse scenes in Good Omens, I much prefer talking about their character dynamics, like I do here (and I have several other posts in the works along similar themes) but there’s a scene in episode 4 that I really want to talk about because it has both relationship stuff and a mystery – specifically the sound of breaking glass (that's not really glass breaking as such).

So let's talk about the scene when Aziraphale arrives back from Edinburgh. How adorable is Aziraphale’s face when he sees Crowley? They’ve literally been apart for a day and he’s so flippin’ delighted to see him. He’s missed him. He had fun investigating, but it wasn’t nearly so much fun without Crowley there. Now he’s back, he’s so very happy about it and he can’t wait to see Crowley. See how excited his face is? And he’s literally leaning forward to peer around the door columns as he approaches the shop.

Then Crowley appears and Aziraphale beams, he literally lights up with so much joy the moment he sees him and hears his voice. There’s even this split second when he sees Crowley where he opens his arms like he really wants to embrace him.

Then he gets a face full of plants and my goodness the look of absolute dejection is heartbreaking. I just want to shake Crowley for being so ridiculous here. Just show your angel some love, you silly demon!

Also I think the disappointment is partly why Aziraphale tells such a silly lie about the journey being uneventful. Crowley has just smacked him in the face literally and figuratively. Literally with a bunch of plants and figuratively with the message, “I’m not really that bothered whether you’re here or not.” Unsurprisingly Aziraphale doesn’t feel like sharing anything with someone who has just done that.

Now let’s take a detour here and talk about the weird sound we hear as they go towards the car. That’s not a pure breaking glass sound as such (like you’d get from a smashed window), it’s the sound of the pub doing its recycling. It’s the noise you get when someone takes out the internal glass bottle bin and empties it into the outside glass recycling bin. It’s why Crowley doesn’t react and Aziraphale simply looks around and then turns back looking unconcerned. They’ll hear that noise all the time, it’s not the noise of something bad happening.

So why is that sound used here? I have no idea. Presumably it’s not just ambiance, although since it’s a noise that could serve that purpose it could very well be that it’s a red herring. It also happens at an odd moment. One thing breaking glass signals is the breaking of trust. Aziraphale has just told a lie, but by the time we hear the noise Crowley is several seconds into his description of ‘Jim’ singing and sleeping. It seems too far removed to be to do with Aziraphale’s lie specifically. So that leaves us with three possibilities – we should ignore the noise because it’s only ambiance, it’s to do with something other than lies, or Crowley is lying about what he and Jim have been up to. I have no idea why this last one might be or what might have happened. Anyone want to speculate? To be honest he doesn’t look or sound like he’s lying to me and Crowley actually lies very very rarely, especially not to Aziraphale (when he does it tends to be by omission rather than a direct lie) so I’m inclined to think the sound is supposed to clue us into something else. But what? And if so why not actual glass breaking, why the weird recycling sound?

Anyway back to Aziraphale and Crowley’s interaction. Crowley manages to piss Aziraphale off even more by being all lovey-dovey towards his car.  After checking out Crowley’s arse (!) as he bends over to put the plants in the car Aziraphale then seems to become anxious as they talk about whether he has anymore clues, even glancing over his shoulder nervously as he talks. Why? No idea. Maybe he just knows that he didn’t really find out all that much on his trip and is worried Crowley is expecting more of him?

What’s quite sweet is that he only completely regains his balance and perkiness after Crowley shuts the car door and Aziraphale is able to step up close to him again. There’s no real need for him to step forward, they’re already at conversation distance, but Aziraphale feels most comfortable when he’s right up in Crowley’s space. Also Crowley admits to his own failure and doesn’t seem inclined to say anything about Aziraphale’s lack of information, so that probably helps too. Symbollically speaking a barrier between them (the car door) has been removed.

Anyway the scene ends with them heading back to the bookshop and I really hope Aziraphale finally gets that hug he wants. I mean, I know he doesn’t, but I feel so bad for him in this scene and it would be nice for the poor lovestruck angel if he did.

[evilasiangenius]

“All right, here. Let’s get you back in bed.”

“Yeah,” Crowley murmured into Aziraphale’s hair. “Let’s just lie down like this…”

“Woo!” Aziraphale gasped, surprised as Crowley tumbled them onto the bed, Aziraphale’s shoes miraculously dropping off as they did so. The demon muttered something profane about ties as his bowtie unknotted itself and slithered off his neck and Crowley curled up beside the angel, drawing Aziraphale into his arms so that his breath whispered over the angel’s pale hair, trembling the tips of fine curls.

“Mmm, that’s nice. You smell nice.”

“I don’t smell like anything right now. I was in such a rush closing up the shop that I forgot to put on cologne today.”

“N-no, not like human things. You smell like stardust, on the very edge of a nebula. No wait, fire, but not like divine fire or human-made fire, but like that perfectly pure fire that burns off the edge of a star. Or maybe like wind, on a very chilly day, crisp and refreshing and very very cold. Except you’re not cold at all…never have been,” Crowley murmured, the words almost lost against Aziraphale’s hair.

“T-thank you,” Aziraphale blushed, hands closing around Crowley’s hands, bringing them to his lips.

“Gonna nap now,” Crowley yawned, shifting so that he was more comfortable, turning Aziraphale slightly toward him. “Won’t be long, promise.”

“Of course. Take as much time as you need.” And Aziraphale smiled, watching honey-gold eyes flutter close, feeling Crowley’s body fall lax against his own, long snaky limbs suddenly heavy and limp with sleep. Almost immediately Crowley was asleep, snoring just a little.

Aziraphale sighed, and the music ran out, falling into static.

Crowley’s expression changed in his sleep, scowling. It was too bright in the stateroom and Aziraphale gestured with his free hand. The golden lights in the room suddenly dimmed and Crowley’s face smoothed out, relaxing. The pin lifted and dropped again.

Aziraphale listened to the music until he couldn’t just listen, and then he began to sing along softly to the instrumental. He knew all the words by heart, and whispered them to himself, afraid of waking Crowley as the demon slept.

x

[aziraphales-library]

hello! you all have been doing a wonderful job and an amazing service to the fandom. i was wondering if you have fics centered around crowley and aziraphale holding hands on the bus right after the armageddon't?

Hi! Here are some bus ride holding hands fics...

I Want To Hold Your Hand by AnonymousDandelion (G)

If Crowley were any less dazed, weary, and out of it, he might have noticed sooner that he and Aziraphale have been holding hands since the bus stop. As it is, the bus is halfway to London by the time he becomes aware of this fact.

The Place and the Fire of Our Side by EdnaV (G)

“You can stay at my place, if you like.” It's not a lie, Crowley owns that flat. It's not the whole truth — that flat has never really been his place. It's the place where he sleeps when he's in London and he doesn't feel like crashing at the Ritz. The flat is not his place. It's not the place. The place was the bookshop. The bookshop — it burned down. -------- After an Almost-Apocalypse, some things have to change — or just be discovered again.

Last Bus to Oxford, Next Stop London by Sequesters (G)

Crowley and Aziraphale ride the bus from Tadfield to London, and discuss things that are long overdue.

in the low lamplight i was free (heaven and hell were words to me) by midnightdragons (G)

“My dear, that cannot be comfortable.” Aziraphale lifted his free hand and tapped at the demon’s shoulder lightly, prompting him to tilt his head away from the window. Crowley’s forehead had a red mark where it had been pressing against the glass, and Aziraphale couldn’t hide the smallest of fond smiles at the bewildered, disgruntled look on Crowley’s face. “Wuh?” Crowley responded intelligently. Or: my rendition of the bus ride scene from Good Omens season 1, because we all need another one, didn't we?

if you guide me into your space by abbzeh (T)

Crowley eyes the point of contact between them for a moment, face near unreadable as he lifts his gaze back to Aziraphale’s face. Aziraphale keeps maintaining that eye contact, does not let himself be cowed back from this. Because here, after the end of the world, he needs this contact. Needs the reassurance that they both still yet live, that they have not failed humanity to an inglorious doom. That they still, despite the incredible odds stacked against them, have come out the other side still standing. He knows Crowley needs this too, though his stubborn demon would never initiate such a gesture. Would never even ask for it.

Effortless by Anonymous (T)

“I’m not sure I follow.” Crowley sighs. “See – I could wear your clothes. And, uh.” Here comes the hard part. He pulls one of his hands out of Aziraphale’s grasp. Not far, just a little, just to hook his index finger under the cuff of Aziraphale’s shirtsleeve and coat, wiggle it into the buttonhole so that the button starts to slide free. He swallows. “I could wear your smell, too.” To think that he was exhausted, reduced to incoherence, a smear on the bed a half-hour ago. He feels very awake now.

Crowley’s miracle doesn’t work and the bus they take after the airfield goes to Oxford instead of London. They will have to get a room to work out what to do next, no two ways about it.

- Mod D

[darlingsfandom]

“Witch Hunt!”

kinktober day eight

pairing : fem Crowley! x fem reader!

tw: demon lesbian sex, fingering, biting, semi-somo! Swearing.

There’s always been stories that witches, dark souls, lovers of sin and even the devil exist to which you bought into so you could save your soul from the pits of hell but the old saying of curiosity killed the cat got the best of you.

The night was cold, windy and rainy allowing the rain the pound against your bedroom window. The glow from your tv playing some infomercial played quietly , highlighting your natural beauty she stood in the corner watching you sleep like she did every night for the last five months. You never seen her, heard her, smelled her… nothing! She was just the figure that watched you. You were her prize even if you didn’t know it .

Crowley watched as you turned onto your back letting small snores escape you. She chewed her bottom lip, stepping quietly towards you until her fingers could grab the end of your blanket and pull it off you so slowly that you’d ever notice. Your nightgown had bunched around your hips showing off your cotton heart panties that made her sigh. You were so innocent, so gorgeous , she knew angles existed and you should be on of them. She placed her hand gently on your hip as she sat down on the edge of your bed trying her best not to wake you. You either slept hard enough a tornado could rip through and not notice or you slept light enough that a mouse squeak would alarm you and lucky for her you were passed out peacefully.

Her nails ran up your thigh making them twitch.

“Oh sweet girl, so pure and delicate…” her body pushed against yours as she got between your legs. “Just wait until I tear you apart.” Her teeth sunk into your inner thigh making you jolt forward.

“What the hell??” You gasped holding your chest as she sat up to lick her bloody lips. Her yellow eyes looked right into yours which struck you to your core. How? Why? The feelings inside of you swirled like a terrible cocktail.

“Relax, I got you where I want you my sweet girl.” Crowley grabbed your knees and pulled them apart making you whine. Your head felt heavy almost foggy like as her hands reached up, pulled your panties off and her fingers ran over your folds.

“No no, I … girls aren’t supposed to touch girls!” You whimpered but it wasn’t a whimper of fear, it was a whimper of pleasure. Your own tone shocked you because after all sex before marriage was a sin! Lesbian demon sex would be the ultimate sin.

“Oh silly girl! You’ve been living a lie and you know it.” Crowley pressed her lips against yours as her long fingers collected the wetness growing on you. Her fingers were slick enough to slide inside of you with ease but the stretch was new. “I know you’re not that innocent , I know you’ve touched yourself so many times to very interesting porn.” Her words made you whimper again but the guilt of the truth made you look away until you realized she was still staring you down. “And you know you’ll feel so much better once you submit to me.”

“I can’t submit to the devil!” You blurted trying to act like you weren’t enjoying her fingering you.

“That’s very cute but I am not the devil honey, nor am I an angel. But you, you’re an angel who deserves what she deserves.” Her mouth placed open kisses on your pulse point in your neck. Your body gave into the pleasure she was providing. Your body went limp when her teeth sank into the pulse points. Her fingers felt better than what you’ve ever imagined and better than your own.

Crowley loved how you were melting below her. Her mouth turned into a smirk as she used her thumb to rub your clit which made you grip onto your sheets. “Don’t stop please!” Your toes curled as Crowley fingered you faster making you cry out. You sounded so pretty, so needy and pathetic. She had studied you for so long, waited for ages and finally she had you below her submitting without any hesitation anymore.

“Oh honey, you’re clenching my fingers so tight. Do you need to cum pretty girl? Yeah? That’s a good girl.” Her voice was thick and hot making you shut your eyes until you felt another sharp sting of her teeth in your flesh. “ eyes on me honey! Gotta see who’s making you feel so good!” Crowley pumped harder while adding pressure onto your clit. You couldn’t hold back anymore and your orgasm ripped through your body making your hips fly forward.

“FUCK!” You cried out with tears falling down your cheeks.

“That’s a good girl.” Crowley slowly pulled out her fingers. Your body fell back down with a soft thud. You laid there panting as she sat next to you licking her fingers clean. “Don’t think you’re done yet sweet girl, I’ve waited for so long to take what’s mine and now you’re mine.”

[avocado-writing]

Kinktober 7

7. Anonymous Sex, Nonconsensual, Somnophilia

Aziraphale rarely sleeps. 

You’re not sure if this is a good thing or not. It can be lovely to wake in the morning to find him up and waiting for you while he reads, a warm smile stretching across his face as he whispers “good morning, nightingale.” But that very same fact can be a little off putting - it’s hard to get to sleep when one of your partners just lies there awake all night.

Crowley loves to sleep. Sometimes you wonder if he’s more cat than snake, the way he finds a puddle of sunlight to lie in and dozes off. He twists his body into all sorts of contortions which you can’t imagine are comfortable but never hear him complaining about, either. 

The two of you can tell Aziraphale is tired. He’s having difficulty holding conversation, isn’t as efficient at shooing customers away as he usually is. The angel needs rest, but he is as stubborn as an ox, so just telling him that will amount to nothing.

No. Aziraphale needs a carrot, not a stick.

So you and Crowley do what you do best: sweet talk him.

“I’m just saying,” you tell him, carding your fingers through his soft hair, “sleep doesn’t have to be boring, my darling. In fact it can be quite lovely. Have you ever had an orgasm someone’s given you while you’re asleep?”

This piques his interest. The angel puts down his book and looks up at you, a light dusting of pink beginning to fill his cheeks.

“I can’t say that I have, dearest.”

“Well, I’m sure that we can change that,” Crowley chimes in, a devilish smile creeping across his face, “you’ll have the best rest of your life, angel.”

He’s so easy to tempt, and he is ever so tired. So that night when you all lay down to sleep, Aziraphale is naked as a cherub and pressed between the two of you. He shuts his eyes and lays back but there’s no mistaking the rise and fall of his chest for someone who’s actually settled for the evening.

“Aziraphale, for this to work, you have to be asleep,” you tell him gently, dropping a kiss to his shoulder. He shivers in anticipation.

“But it’s so… you’re so… we could always…?”

You and Crowley exchange a look. Your angel and his earthly delights. So you tire him out, fuck him until he’s boneless, and then watch slip into sleep properly when he’s exhausted.

Crowley wipes his mouth on the back of his arm and the two of you listen out for his breathing: there it is: rhythmic, soft, dead to the world. 

Time for part two to begin, then. 

Ever so slowly, so as not to jostle him too much, the two of you start to take position. You help spread Aziraphale’s legs and hoist his arse into Crowley’s lap, his hole open and already used from earlier. Crowley watches you begin to stroke the angel’s cock. It only takes a couple of pumps before it reacts, beginning to grow hot and heavy in your hand, ripe for fucking. You press a kiss to his head as he gets fully there, grinning at the taste of yourself on him from where you rode him earlier.

You look up to see Crowley watching you intently. You give him a cheeky wink and press a kiss to his dick too, already so hard that he’s bobbing against his own stomach. He lets out a long, choked sigh through his nose and you press your finger up to his lips - shh. Be quiet. Don’t wake him. The demon lets his tongue, his long serpentine tongue, dip out and twist around you wickedly.

Crowley lines himself up and slides easily into Aziraphale’s hole inch by inch. The angel’s breath hitches for a second and Crowley freezes, but when his chest begins to slowly rise and fall again he carefully sheathes himself all the way to the hilt. He takes a moment to adapt to the pliancy of Aziraphale like this, how easy he is to manoeuvre, how willing even when in dreams. 

Gently he pulls out and presses back in. It’s such a small rock of his hips that Aziraphale barely moves, but you do hear the little sigh of bliss he lets out.

The floodgates open.

Crowley keeps fucking him like that, shallow and careful, the head of his cock hitting that sweet spot inside. As he goes you plant your mouth over Aziraphale’s stiff member. His girth is always a lovely stretch for your lips and you think, for a moment, that it’s a shame he’s not awake - one of his favourite sights is one of you taking him down to the base. 

His head hits the back of your throat and you hum around him before starting to bob up and down. You do your best to match Crowley’s pace, an unhurried lovemaking entirely meant for the receiver. And you can see it’s working, too. Even from your vantage point you can see the way Aziraphale visibly relaxes, all the tension from his muscles escaping with each thrust, each suck.

Aziraphale comes in your mouth a few minutes later, gasping quietly in his sleep. As you lick him clean and swallow you see your demon sigh, happy, and his erratic hips movements stop. He pulls out of Aziraphale gently and you admire the drip of his cum from the angel’s thoroughly used hole.

The two of you kiss, slowly and passionately, before you lay back down into bed, either side of your angel. You tangle your fingers together across his plush stomach and fall asleep tucked up against him.

The next morning Aziraphale is a little sore, but in a very good mood indeed.

@bootlmoth @elleofdragons  @angelic-anarchy27 @yeethaw13 @candlewitch-cryptic @kwyn-q @rat-that-writes @buryustogether @letthenightingalessingagain @ltlthetrifecta @angiestopit @purplefrog1sblog @wereallbrokenangels @angelspathway @clarina04 @belilwen @chaospossum @eightsdoctor @oo-delallymrcrow @silcosmoke @climbingivy97 @live-logs-and-proper @project-sad @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @imagination-phantom @anonymously35 @corgis04 @peytonpenguin37 @catlynharper @unabashedgentlemenpirate @wolfe-houler @darktealrat @mxxny-lupin @willbedecided @detectiveapparatiagreen @shadowluna25 @kaylinelizabeth4004 @xquinn-bartonx @blue-bell22 @foolishprincipalitee @fandomawesomeness @eweweweewewe @latersgaters-steven @llamaproblem @night-affiliate @randompost18 @hunterispunk @jessica-laufeysdottir @uxcaran @bunnymallowo @jae-michael @jelly-terror @larkiesparkie

[mimisempai]

You make everything better

Summary

It's one of those bad days, which is bad enough in itself, but when on top of that Crowley sees Aziraphale laughing with Mr. Brown, he wonders if his angel wouldn't be better off with someone bright like him.

Notes

Just a little self-doubt and an opportunity for the angel to reaffirm his feelings for his demon.

On Ao3

Rating G -  1246 words

It was one of those days.

As soon as he opened his eyes, Crowley knew it.

It was going to be one of those days when he didn't feel like doing anything, saying anything.

When all he wanted to do was sleep and get to tomorrow.

But he got up anyway.

Not because he felt he had to, but simply because the only person who could bring him comfort on such a day was probably one floor below, leafing through his precious books.

Crowley knew with certainty that he wouldn't have to say anything.

Nor would he have to explain his state of mind, his lack of energy, his mood.

He would just lie on the sofa and Aziraphale would not question him.

For Aziraphale was the only one who knew.

The one who knew him better than anyone else in the universe.

So as he walked down the stairs, just imagining that familiar scene made Crowley feel a little better.

At least until he reached the bookshop.

It wasn't until he was near the sofa that he realized the angel wasn't there.

There was a small note on the coffee table.

He took it and read it.

I’m running an errand and going to Maggie's

I'll be back soon.

A.

The demon sighed, grabbed the blanket on the back of the sofa, and was about to sit down when his gaze was drawn to the familiar figure of his angel chatting with Mr. Brown in the middle of the street.

They were engaged in what appeared to be an animated conversation and Aziraphale suddenly laughed.

As Crowley watched in fascination as the angel laughed with someone other than himself, all he could think was that maybe this was the kind of person Aziraphale should be with. Someone bubbly and kind, someone bright.

In short, not someone like him.

Of course, Crowley tried to tell himself rationally that he was wrong. 

That Aziraphale had shown him more than once how he felt about him.

Even told him more than once how much he loved him.

But no matter how hard the demon fought the dark thoughts he knew were connected to his current state, he couldn't shake the idea.

His throat tightened, he curled up on the sofa, hoping to fall asleep as soon as possible and wake up tomorrow.

"Crowley?"

He must have managed to fall asleep because he was awakened by the sound of Aziraphale's voice and a light touch on his cheek.

He opened his eyes as he felt the angel sitting next to him on the sofa.

He saw the look of concern on his face as he was gently asked, "Are you all right, my love?"

Crowley shook his head slowly and murmured, "It's one of those days."

Aziraphale hummed and said quietly, "I see."

The demon expected him to get up and leave him alone, respecting what Crowley wanted on such a day. But as if sensing that this time was different, the angel remained seated and, stroking his cheek gently with the back of his fingers, asked thoughtfully, "Is there anything I can do for you?"

Just as the demon was about to shake his head, his mouth ran faster than his mind and he replied, "Stay with me and hold me. "

What possessed him to say that?

As if this kind of day wasn't already a burden for the Angel, now Crowley was getting clingy on top of it.

He opened his mouth to take back his words, but Aziraphale put a finger to his lips and said softly, "Before you start telling me that you don't want this because you think you're a burden, let me tell you that I'll be happy to do it if that's what you really want. So I ask you, is this what you want? Is this what you need?"

Crowley wanted to argue that he didn't need to be coddled, but he didn't have the strength to do so in the face of the angel's open, loving gaze.

He didn't feel like denying what he craved most right now.

So he nodded slowly, but Aziraphale shook his head and said softly, "No, I want to hear you say it."

Crowley sighed and whispered, "Yes, that's what I want, Angel."

Once the words were out of his mouth, he realized he'd needed to say them as much as Aziraphale needed to hear them.

The angel leaned over him and pressed a tender kiss to his forehead before standing.

"I'm going to close the bookshop, I've decided that today will be a day off. " 

Even though the bookshop's hours were more than erratic, it still touched Crowley to the core that Aziraphale would do this just for him.

Then, as he straightened up on the sofa, the angel returned and sat down beside him before opening his arms for Crowley to snuggle into.

He did so immediately as Aziraphale covered them with the blanket, tightening his arms around him as Crowley rested his head on his shoulder, burying his face in the hollow of the angel's neck.

Aziraphale gave a long kiss to his hair and asked softly, "Is that all right?"

Crowley hummed as he nodded his head against the angel's chest, and they remained so entwined in silence for a long moment until the angel asked gently, "Did something special happen to make you like this?"

"You mean me being clingy."

Aziraphale gave him a little tap on the shoulder and retorted, "Idiot, that's not what I mean. It's just that I can't help but notice that this isn't your usual way of handling a day like this."

Nestled safely in the angel's arms, Crowley didn't feel like hiding his feelings and told him what had made him react the way he did today.

When he finished, Aziraphale tightened his arms around him and replied softly, "I'm not going to tell you that you're a fool for believing for a moment that someone like him would be better for me than you. I know the irrationality of what one can feel at times like this."

He grabbed Crowley's chin and raised his face to his, looking into his eyes and saying softly, "But let me correct you, my love, okay? You're saying I'd be better suited to someone more bubbly, nice, and what again? Brighter. First of all, you're the one I love, and yes, even if you're not particularly bubbly today. Secondly, your kindness has nothing to envy Mr. Brown's, by far. And finally, who said you weren't bright? What's brighter than those beautiful golden pupils or that bright red hair?"

Crowley muttered, "You know I didn't mean that."

Aziraphale, still holding the demon's chin in his hand, nodded and replied, "I know. But you're bright. You're my light, my love. When I'm in doubt, when I don't know which way to go, you're the one I look up to. I always have. You made me open my eyes to the reality of our sides. You push me forward when I don't feel good about myself. You made me believe in myself. That's what being bright means to me."

He didn't let the demon protest and leaned his face into his, sealing his words with a tender, lingering kiss.

When they parted a few moments later, Crowley rested his head on the angel's shoulder, and they remained entwined in silence.

Maybe this wasn't one of those bad days after all.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Growing Love series : (After season 2) 

Part 1 Story 1-99

Part 2 Story 100-?

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here (Before season 2)

[ladykiller-yt]

BACK CRACK

Crowley: "ouch ouch...someone kill me now."

Aziraphale: "What happened to you?"

Crowley: “My back is killing me!”

Aziraphale: "Did you sleep strangely again?"

Crowley: "Angel, I'm a snake, remember? OF COURSE I SLEEP CRACKED!"

Aziraphale: "Okay, come on here."

Aziraphale gestured for Crowley to sit on the sofa.

Aziraphale: "Okay, now take off your shirt so I can see what you have."

Crowley: "Wait, what do I have to take off?"

Aziraphale: "Come on, what's the matter? Are you ashamed?"

Crowley: "Of course not, but..."

Aziraphale: "I'll make you feel better, I promise."

Crowley sighed as he took off his shirt and let the angel touch him.

Aziraphale: "Okay, it's nothing serious. Your back just needs to give a good CRACK."

Crowley suddenly stood up from the couch, covering his chest with his shirt.

Crowley: "What do you want to do to my poor back?"

Aziraphale: "It's called chiropractic."

Crowley: "I don't care what it's called. It looks bad."

Aziraphale: "Don't worry. Trust your angel."

Crowley grimaced in dissent but then let the angel do his job. The angel made Crowley lie down on the sofa, placing his hands on his back, they were soft and warm.

Crowley: "Your hands are so warm angel. My back appreciates it."

Aziraphale: "Thank you, dear. Now take a nice, deep breath while I count to 3 and then I'll crack your back. Ready?"

Crowley: "Uuf...okay ready."

Aziraphale:"3..2..1."

CRACK

Crowley: "Oh fuck...yeah...what a pleasure, I feel so relaxed."

Aziraphale: "Walk and tell me how you feel."

Crowley: "I can't. I'm too relaxed. Thank you angel.

Aziraphale: "Whenever you want."

[otakusheep15]

Flufftober Day 24 - Dark

Content includes: Che’nya x reader, not explicitly platonic or romantic, cuddling, Che’nya jumpscaring reader, no dialogue

Ramshackle has always been pretty dark, especially at night. Sometimes, the lights don’t work properly, meaning you’re left with using an old, barely functioning flashlight Crowley “so generously” gave you.

It’s nights like these when you’ll normally get a visit from Che’nya. He likes to make it a game, one you’ve begrudgingly become accustomed to. He’ll pop in at random, keeping himself invisible, and scare you when you least expect it.

As a cat beastman, he has night vision, meaning he’s very capable of finding you in the dark. At first, it annoyed you to no end, and you were always on edge, waiting for him to pop up at any moment.

Now, however, it’s not so bad. You still get a bit upset of course, but it’s less annoyed and more fond. You’re not quite sure when the change in your feelings happened, but you can’t say you mind as much as you expected to.

Today is no different than usual. Your lights are out and it’s dark outside. Normally, you’d be in bed by now, but you had to stay up late to study for upcoming exams. As expected, the flashlight does not work, which means you might as well turn in for the night.

You clean up your study materials, sorting them neatly on your desk. Then, you stand up, turn around, and immediately jump back in fear, hitting your back against the desk. Che’nya laughs before disappearing again, leaving you to rub your (surely now bruised) back.

You’re not even sure if he’s still in the room, but you shout some choice words out into the air, certain that he heard them. He always does.

Not letting it deter you, you continue on with your nighttime routine, keeping any eye out for any sneak attacks. After the initial scare, he doesn’t seem to be jumping out anymore, which does nothing to calm you. If anything, it puts you more on edge, wondering if and when he’ll pop out again.

With your routine done, you head back to your bedroom, ready to get some sleep. However, you pause when you notice something under the covers. It’s too big to be Grim, so you already have an idea of what, or, more specifically who, it is. You walk over and lift up the covers, only to see nothing.

The second you realize he’s already disappeared, you turn around, only to be tackled to the bed by Che’nya, now fully visible. He nuzzles into your chest, laughing about how good he got you.

You chuckle at his antics, gently scratching behind one of his ears. He leans into the touch, purring softly. Despite his antics, he’s so cute like this. It’s almost worth it. Almost.

It’s still dark, and the only thing you can properly see is his glowing yellow eyes as they stare up at you. The dark used to bother you, but as you lie in bed with Che’nya on top of you, you find that you don’t mind it as much, even if it includes a few jumpscares.

[justwhisperingfantasies]

I can't let you go. Part 1.

Characters: Sam Winchester x Female Reader, Dean Winchester, Castiel. Bobby Singer. Crowley. Mention of other SPN characters.

Warnings: Language, Implied Smut. Steamy scene, A little fluff, Angst, Hurt Dean, Sam, Reader, and Cas. Guns, Cannon violence. Cannon with a twist. Slight panic attack. Let me know if I forgot any.

Summary: You have known Sam Winchester most of your life. He was your best friend and you were completely in love with him. The day after he decides to take on Lucifer and put him back in the cage is the day he finally makes himself tell you how he truly feels about you.

Word count: 5,634 words

A/N: My first fic for Sam. I'm sorry this one took a little longer. Hope ya'll enjoy 💗

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You had your phone on vibrate but the constant buzzing woke you. You pulled the pillow over your head and waited for it to stop. Finally, you thought. 

And then it started right back up again. You got up in a huff. You didn't even look at the screen. You flicked the phone open. 

“What?!”  

“Wow, I forgot how grumpy you are when someone wakes up.” He chuckled. 

“Sam?!” You sat up, turned the lamp on, and looked at the clock. “It's 2 in the freaking morning? What's wrong?” 

“Why would something Be wrong?”

“Because it's 2 in the freaking morning and you're a Winchester. It's usually bad news if a Winchester calls you in the middle of the night.” 

“Ouch. True, but still ouch.” 

“Can I call you back in the morning? I've had a really long day and need sleep.”

He paused for a second“What were you hunting?”

“Saaaam” You whined. 

“ I miss my best friend. Alright? You have been avoiding me since…” He trailed off

“Since Ellen and Jo died. And I haven't been avoiding you, Sam.” 

“ Oh come on. I've called you about 100 times and how many of those calls have you returned? Admit it.” 

“We can discuss this in the morning.” 

“(y/n)..” You heard him say as you were about to close your phone. You hesitated. Why shouldn't you just close it? Why did you have to go running every time Sam Winchester called you? You sighed. Because he was your best friend and you were completely in love with him.

“Sam?” You said still in a grumpy tone. 

“Are you close to Bobby's?” 

“About 3 hours away.”

“So with your lead foot more like 2?”

“Saaaaamm..” You whined again

“I Need you.”

Fucking hell. Why? Why? Why? Why did he have to pull the  I need You card? So unfair. 

You groaned Into the phone loudly. “Let me get dressed and have some coffee.”

“I love you.” 

It felt like a kick to the gut whenever he said that to you. Of course, it wasn't the way you wanted. “Yea yea, Winchester.” you closed your phone, got up, and got dressed. After filling Your thermos up with coffee you hit the road and you cursed him the whole way there.

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When you got to Bobby's it was a little after 4 am. Sam was sitting on the porch. His face lit up when he saw you. You hated that. You hated even more that you came. You swore to yourself you would grow a backbone and stop chasing him. But he needed you and you really couldn't stop yourself. With a deep breath, you opened your door. He was hugging you before you could even get the door shut. He picked you up and started spinning you around.

“Samuel William Winchester put me down now!!”

He laughed and put you down but kept you wrapped in a hug. You couldn't help but hug him back. “Sammy. What's wrong?” 

“Like I said I miss my best friend.”

“You can't lie to me. What's wrong?”

“I haven’t seen you for like 3 months. Can we have 5 minutes please?”

“OK five minutes.” you inhaled his scent of vanilla and cedar with a Hint of honey. God, it was intoxicating. And just like that you were putty in his hands. Crap you thought.  

He squeezed you and then released the hug. 

“Thanks for coming.” He said walking to the rear of your truck. 

You put Your hands in your jacket pockets and followed him. “Like I had a choice.” 

“ (y/n) Of course you had a choice “ He leaned Against Your tailgate. 

“Right.” You said in a sarcastic tone. 

He smiled. Then gave you a serious look. 

“ Come on. Out with it.” you nudged him out of the way so you could put the tailgate down. You hopped up to sit on it. 

“ Dean said no to Michael. Nobody thought he would be able to resist..” he paused. 

“Isn't that a good thing?” 

“Yes and no. The angels got Adam to say yes.” he stood up and started pacing. 

“Christ!” 

“So the fight between Michael and Lucifer is sure to happen now... Lucifer is trying to hold out. He thinks I'll end up saying yes. And he has some kind of magical hold on death now. Then there's Pestilence with some crazy virus up his sleeve. Everything Got so fucked up so fast (Y/n).” He stopped pacing and turned to face you.

You could see the tears in his eyes. You grabbed him and pulled him into your Embrace. His arms were around you again and his head in the crook of your neck. 

“Sammy we will find a way. I promise I will do anything I can to help.”

“ I already thought of a way. And just remember that promise as I tell you.”

You tried to detach from the hug, but he tightened his hold. You gave up and kept hugging. 

“ I think I have a way to get Lucifer back in the cage. If we can get all 4 rings from the horsemen we can open it.” 

“OK But how would you get Lucifer back…. “

The whole world stopped. He wasn't actually considering.” Sam, please tell me you're not thinking what I think you're thinking.”

He sighed. “How do you do that?” 

“Do what?”

“Read my mind.”

Your eyes were full of tears now. And you held him tighter than you ever had. “Sammy.”

“You promised you would do anything…. Even if that meant letting me go?”

“No!” your voice cracked. 

“(Y/n)” he whispered 

“Sam, absolutely not.” 

“It's the only way to save the world.”

“Fuck the world.”  

He released his arms and rested his hands on the trunk by your hips. He leaned his forehead against yours. “You don't mean that,” he was still whispering. 

You crossed your arms on your chest and closed your eyes. There's no way you were ever going to be ok with this. “Oh, but I do. If you're not here I don't give a shit if the world survives.” He wiped away the tear that rolled down your cheek. 

“Babe..”

“Oh no. You don't get to babe me right…” He cut you off by kissing you. You pushed him back a little. “Sam what the hell? You can't tell me you're Going to let the devil possess you and then kiss me.” 

“You're Right.” he sighed with eyes full of shame  “I'm sorry.”

How dare he. Make a move now? Now? Why not 11 years ago? That didn't really matter now, can't change the past. Either the world is going to end or you're going to lose him. So why not? 

You grabbed him by the jacket and pulled him back to you so he was standing between your knees, He wrapped his left arm around you and his right hand found your neck spreading his finger he rubbed your cheek with his thumb.“ You sure?” He whispered his lips inches from yours. You Slid your fingers up into his hair and nodded. His lips smashed into yours. Your heart thudded in your chest as you felt his desire through his kiss. The fire ran from your lips down to your core. 

He let out a growl as you gripped his hair and pulled lightly. He grabbed behind your knees and pulled your crotch to his. The collusion sent electricity through your whole body as you moaned into his mouth. He pushed your lips open with his tongue and started massaging yours with his.  He started grinding up against you and you could feel how hard he was. That with the friction made your fire grow wild. You pulled him on top of you as you reclined your upper body back on the truck.  His lips skimmed your cheek, as they made their way to your ear, nibbling and sucking the lobe. You felt his hot breath in your ear as he whispered.  “Mmm. (y/n) I've wanted you since the first time I laid eyes on you.” taking your earlobe back into his Mouth. Sucking on it a little harder this time. You softly moaned his name. You could feel his smile on your neck as he trailed kisses down to your collarbone. He left goosebumps on your skin as he glided his hand up your thigh. Stopping at your hip, grabbing it he thrust against you once more. You moaned again. Then continue gliding it up your shirt. He stopped just below your breast. he raised his head and raised one eyebrow “No bra?”

“Some asshole woke me up at 2 in the morning and said he needed me. I didn't feel like putting one on.”

He laughed. “ just some asshole?” he asked and then started kissing your neck again. 

“Eh. I guess you can call him my best friend,” you said sarcastically. 

He smiled “Just a best friend?” he asked as he grasped your breast and thrusted again.

“Well kinda. I've always wanted him to be more. Don't tell him, but I’m planning on fucking him in the back of my truck.” you said in between moans. 

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After you guys got cleaned up and dressed you lay in the back of your truck.  He was beside you, arms wrapping you tightly and his head on your chest. You started swirling his hair in your fingers. You have had many fantasies over the years of fucking Sam and just being with him, but none of them could even come close to the reality. Every move, every noise, every time he looked in your eyes, every time he moaned your name. It was perfect. Now even just cuddling with him made your heart so full. He had your heart completely now and there was no way to get it back. You wished you could freeze time, but there was a war coming and a world to save. Plus you had to talk Sam out of the idiotic plan. 

“Sammy Not..”

“Please don't ruin this. “ He cut you off. 

“I'm not trying to ruin anything, but I have a question and I need the answer.”

He lifted his head and looked at you. “Just cuddle with me. After the sunrise, we will talk about anything you want.” 

You sighed you wanted answers, but the sky was already lit. Around another half hour and you could ask away. Plus you would be wrapped in his arms. “Fine, but I'm holding you to that, Winchester.”

He chuckled. “I know you will.” he kissed your lips. Soft and sweet. Then laid his head back on your chest. He put your hand back in his hair. You smiled and started playing with it again.

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Dean was at the kitchen counter making coffee as Bobby rolled his wheelchair in. 

“When did (y/n) get here?” Dean asked. Getting coffee mugs for all of them. 

“Not sure. Sam must have called her.” 

“I’m not sure that was the right thing to do,” he proclaimed as he poured a cup and took it over to Bobby.

“Thanks,” Bobby said as he took the coffee. “Well, she is a damn good hunter. She can probably help with this mess.”

“Yeah so we can get her killed too,” Dean said bluntly. “I'm surprised she even came after what happened to Ellen and Jo. “

“Dean. You can't blame yourself for Ellen and Jo…”

“They were helping us, Bobby.” Dean cut him off.  

“No Dean. They were trying to help the world. Not everything is about you.” Bobby said harshly as he rolled out of the room.

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The morning noises mixed with the beautiful sunset were so peaceful. You wished you could just stay in this moment with your best friend forever or was he more now? 

You heard him sigh. “Alright. We made a deal.” he sat up beside you. You sat up next to him. He took your hand in his. 

“I have known you for 11 years. If you wanted this why wait until now to make a move?”

He took a deep breath. “Well at first I thought you were into Dean.”

You laughed. “ Dean fucks anything with 2 legs Winchester? Ha no thanks.” You loved Dean, but it had always been a big brother love. Sam chuckled and his face went serious again. 

“And then everything happened with me and my dad. I finally got out. I didn't want to intrude or make you feel like I was trying to drag you out with me. You have always been 100% in the life. So I had to let you go.” 

He wrapped his arms around you and lifted you with ease. As he opened his legs he sat you between them. Leaning your back against him, he kept his arms around you and rested his chin on your shoulder. “When I walked into the roadhouse that day I could tell by the look on your face that you were hurt. I didn’t even think you’d want to be friends again. It took a while, but when we started getting close again the internal struggle came. I didn't know if I could move on without feeling like I was disrespecting Jess. I realized I was being an idiot and Jess would want me To be happy. When I called you that night and asked you to meet me, I was gonna tell you everything and I was hoping you felt the same, but then Azazel kidnapped me and that whole thing happened.  ” he snuck a quick peck on your cheek. You Smiled. “When Dean made his deal, I couldn't think About it. How could I focus on my drama while his life was on the line? Then when he went to hell I completely lost my mind. I pushed everyone away. I did a lot of shit I'm not proud of. After that, I didn't think I deserved anything good. I didn't deserve you.” You turned Your face toward his and kissed him on the cheek. You Tried to comfort him. The Moment your lips lifted off his cheek, he kissed your lips short and sweet. You leaned back into him. 

“ We have had a lot going on the last couple of months, but I couldn't stop myself from thinking of you. I know the situation is completely fucked up and I didn't expect things to go exactly the way they did. I mean I'm not complaining at all, but my Plan was just to kiss you and tell you how I felt. How I always felt. I just had to get it out before… Ya know.”

You spun your body around to face him. Looking down at him you could see the tears and fear in his eyes. You pulled him into your arms. You squeezed him as tight as you could and he reciprocated. You laid your head on his shoulder.  “Sam. I'm in love with you I always have been. I always will be. You're my best friend. My person. Please don't do this. I need You.” You couldn't hold back the tears. 

“(Y/n) I love you too.” he whispered. “ please don't ask me not to. It's the only way to get Lucifer back in the cage. It's the only way to save millions of lives. Baby, I have to.” 

You heard the screen door open and Dean's boots walking in the gravel. “ You alright (y/n)?” 

“No” You admitted. “ I can't believe.”

“Dean, give us a second. Would ya?” Sam cut you off

Dean looked At Sam with a furrowed brow. Sam raised his. 

“Uh yea. I just made a fresh pot. Don't let it go to waste huh.”  Dean said as he spun on his heels and walked back to the house. 

Sam waited until he was gone. “I'm sorry. I  wasn't trying to be rude. Dean doesn't know about the plan yet.”

“What?!”

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Sam walked in the door first. You made a B-line for the coffee pot. Dean's coffee was the best. 

Sam continued into the study. As you poured yourself a cup you could hear their conversation.

“She was crying, Sam. What the hell is going on?” Dean raised his voice. 

You didn't know if you should, but you made your way to the conversation. You leaned on the door frame.

“Dean. I have a plan..” Sam explained the whole plan. 

“Absolutely fucking not Sam!” The old Winchester was heated. 

Bobby rolled himself into the room but stayed silent.

“What The hell is wrong with you?” 

“Dean.”

“Don't Dean me. You've had some stupid ideas in the past, but this?!” Dean started to pace and saw Bobby. “Did you know about this?”

Bobby nodded

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Dean was pissed now. “ And I bet that's why (y/n) was crying. Am I the last person to know?”

“This ain't about me or her, Dean,” Bobby said

Dean turned back to Sam.“ You can't do this.” Yes talk him out of this you cheered from your mind. 

“That's the consensus.”

“Good, then this conversation is over.”

Sam looked at you. “Don't look at me, I'm with him.” You said as you pointed at Dean. 

Just then Dean's phone started ringing. “The answer is no Sam.”

He answered It as you walked back into the kitchen. You sat down at the table and sipped the last of your coffee. As you put the empty mug down, Sam walked in and grabbed it, taking it over to pour you another cup. 

“I would lecture you on how you drink waaaay too much coffee, but I doubt it would do any good.” He places the full mug in front of you and then sits on the opposite side of the table.  

“Oh, but I need caffeine. Some asshole kept me up all night.” You said with a smile. 

He laughed. “What A stupid asshole. Everyone knows how grumpy you get when you don't get enough sleep.”

“Yea he is being pretty fuckin stupid right now.” sams smile faded.

You hear Bobby yell “I will?” What was Dean putting him up to now? 

Sam took your hand and was about to say something When Dean walked in.

“That was Cas. He's human now. Bobby's gonna help me get back here.” He looked over at you guys and then down at your hands. He Raised his eyebrows once but didn't mention it. “Unless you wanna go pick him up (y/n)...” he smiled. 

You rolled your eyes. “Bobby, you wana ride along?” 

“Don't let Dean bully you darlin. You don't have to.” Bobby said wheeling into the room. 

“Ha. Trust me Dean Winchester ain't That scary. It's Cas. He's been there when we needed him. I'm not gonna say no.”  they all laughed. “One condition Though.”

“Oh of course.” Dean taunted

“I get the rest of that coffee.” You smiled. 

Dean loaded Bobby in the passenger seat of your truck while Sam Put his stuff in the backseat.  You tossed Your full, warm thermos in the front seat. And turned to the back door that Sam was shutting. 

“Are you sure you'll be alright driving?” he asked as he took a couple of steps toward you.

“Sammy I'll be fine. I've driven longer on less sleep.”

“You be careful.”

“Me be careful? I'm just going to pick up an ex-angel. You're going after a horseman.”

“I'll be careful, promise.”

Since Bobby and Dean were on The other side of your truck you were expecting just a hug. But he put his hand under your chin, raised your head, And knelt in for a kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck and his other arm around your waist. 

Bobby cleared his throat and you could feel Sam's smile. 

You both squeezed and then released. He stood there as you hopped into your truck. And he shut your door. “See You later.” You and Bobby nodded. 

Dean was standing at The driver's door of the Impala hand on the handle. “Dude,” He said as Sam walked up. 

“What?” Sam said annoyed

“It's about damn time.” 

Sam smiled as they got in. 

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Bobby was quiet for half the trip. He didn't even complain about your speeding. Finally, about Halfway there He broke the silence. 

“ ya know I Have known you kids for a long time. I've watched you pine over Sam and then Sam pine over you. I gotta say.” He paused. “ You guys have terrible Fucking timing.” 

You lightly chuckled. “You ain’t shittin ”

“It's gonna hurt like hell kid.” 

“It was gonna hurt regardless.”

“That's true. So you gonna let him do this?” Bobby asked. 

“I'm voting against it, but it's not like Winchesters listen when you tell them not to do something.” 

He huffed “Ain't that the damn truth.” he looked over at you for the first time since you left the house. “I'll be here if it happens and you need a shoulder.”

You looked back at him. “I know Bobby. I know.” 

You didn't wanna think about that Whole situation right Now. Just focus on getting Cas. Getting the rings and we will cross that bridge when we get there, you told yourself. 

“Don’t tell Sam and Dean, but it would be faster if you went alone. Just get in, grab him, and get out”

“I can take care of myself, ya know?” you said defensively. 

“I know, kid. Look, we have lost a lot of people. Me and the boys are protective, yes probably more than we should be. We just don’t wanna lose any more family. We love you (y/n).”

“I know.” you opened the door. “ I love you too Bobby.” you hopped out and closed the door. 

Cas had given Dean his room number so there was no need to stop at the front desk. You made your way up to his room. 

“(y/n), what are you doing here?” Castiel asked as you entered his room. 

“I was in the area, thought I’d stop by. Cas I’m here to get you, why else would I be here?”

“ Well obviously. Just surprised you're here by yourself.”

“Bobby is in the truck. Sam and Dean went to get Pestilence.” 

“How far away are they?”

“Not very. Let's go.”

You and Castiel had no problems getting out.

“Change of plans Bobby,” you said as you and Cas hopped in the truck. 

“ Oh hell.” Bobby groaned. 

You made It to the serenity Valley convalescent home as fast as you could. You got out and got in your toolbox. You grab your 9mm, put it in the back of your jeans, and pulled out your shotgun. 

“ What do you think you're doing?” Bobby asked. 

“Not now Bobby.” You pumped the shotgun. “Let's go Cas.” 

Cas looked at Bobby. Bobby nodded at Him to go. 

“ I know where he is I can feel him. Follow me and be careful” Cas told you as you entered the building. You guys got to the second floor before you started feeling woozy. You leaned Against the wall for support. 

“(y/n) You alright?” 

“I'm not feeling so hot. Cas go help the boys.” 

“I can't just.”

“GO!” You yelled

Castiel went on. He found the room Pestilence was in and kicked open the door. Sam and Dean were on the ground coughing up blood and barely conscious. 

“Cas?” Dean was surprised. 

Cas walked in ready to fight. He took 2 steps and fell to his knees. He was weak and could fight couldn't fight off the disease any longer. 

“Well look at that. An occupied vessel, but powerless.” Pestilence said smugly. You were almost to the door. If you could just make it to the door you could help. 

Just make it to the door…. You thought as You fell. Everything hurt. Your insides felt like they were going through a meat grinder. You were burning up, but freezing at the same time. You didn't even have the strength to cry out. 

Then suddenly all the symptoms just stopped. You felt fine. You grabbed your shotgun and Walked to the door. As you looked in the room you saw Sam and Dean getting up. Then Dean rushes to grab something off a table, Castiel Lying on his back with a demon on top of him dying from the demon blade, and Pestilence holding his bloody hand, a numb where his ring finger was. 

“Doesn't matter. It's too late.” Pestilence whispered just before disappearing. 

Sam looked back to the doorway. Disapproval In his eyes. You Guys had the ring, but everyone felt defeated. 

“Everyone okay?” Dean asked. The 3 of you nodded. “Alright then Let's go.”

Nobody said a word as you made your way outside.

“Hey Bobby, why don't you ride back with me and Cas?” Dean asked as he walked up to the passenger side of your truck. He gave Bobby a look then looked at you and Sam. 

“Yeah,” Bobby took the hint. Dean got his chair out of the bed. “We'll see you back at the house,” Bobby yelled as Dean Wheeled him over to the impala. 

You put Your guns back in the toolbox, then hopped in your truck. Sam was already sitting in the passenger Seat. You took a deep breath and let it out in a heavy sigh, then started the truck. 

“You sure you're ok?” Sam asked. You nodded. “You want me to drive?” You shook your head. “ Do you want the How could you be so stupid Lecture now or later?”

“Sam,” you said. 

He continued. “ You know you could have gotten killed.” 

“Sam!” You said a bit louder. He stopped talking. “ I am a grown-ass adult. I have been hunting demons and monsters Most of my life. If I want to go kick some ass I'm going to go kick some ass. I don't need you treating me like I don't know what the hell I'm doing. “ You paused. He opened his mouth but you kept Going. “ If I hadn't brought Cas here you and Dean would have died. So no, I don't think I made a stupid decision at all. And I don't think you're in a very good spot to be lecturing anyone on making stupid decisions right now.”

He closed his mouth and looked out the window. You turned Your radio on. Turn the page by Bob Seger started playing as you drove off.

Neither you nor Sam said a word on the Drive back to Bobby's. You called dibs on the shower as soon as you walked into the house. Not Stopping for approval you headed to the bathroom with your duffle bag in hand. 

You thought about the ride home as the water warmed up. Maybe You were too harsh, but it's not like what you said wasn't true. The Winchesters and Bobby needed to see that you could handle your own. You weren't some delicate Little flower. And Sam was making a stupid decision. You Hurried in the shower just in case someone else wanted it. You Got dressed in sweats and a tank top. Then you twisted your damp hair up in a messy bun. Tossing your duffle in the hallway corner you made your way into the kitchen. Bobby usually had something to eat. As you searched for food you could hear the guys talking in the study. 

“Chicago is about to be wiped off the map.” Bobby had your interest. You grabbed a bag of chips and leaned on the doorframe. “Storm of the millennium. Sets off a chain reaction of natural disasters. Three million people are gonna die.” They all just looked at each other. Bobby explains how death is going to be there and we might have a chance to get his ring. 

“Bobby, how do you know all this?” Sam asked

“I had some help.” 

You could feel his presence there before he showed himself and you smelled sulfur. “Really Bobby?!” Everyone looked at you then their eyes went to Crowley. He was pouring a drink behind you.

“Don't be so modest.  I barely helped at all.” Crowley picked up his drink and walked towards the Doorway. “Hello, boys.” 

He turned to you and eyed you up and down. 

“Hello, darling.” He said seductively. You could literally feel Sam’s anger. You rolled your eyes at Cowley and Walked back to the kitchen to put the chips away. You turned back towards them and leaned on the counter. 

Crowley walked into the study. “Go on tell them.”

“Tell us what” Sam asked. 

Bobby sighed “World's ending. Why should a soul matter?”

“You sold your soul?” Dean was shocked. 

“It's More like loaned it. “ Crowley said

“Did you kiss him?” Sam asked 

“NO!” Bobby exclaimed 

Crowley Cleared his throat and showed the Picture.

Bobby looked ashamed. 

“Ok, asshole. Give him his soul back now!” Dean stood up and started towards Crowley. 

“I'm sorry. I can’t.” Crowley explained. “That's my insurance. The Winchesters are notorious for killing demons and the princess back there has killed more than I can count. You three won’t kill me as long as I have his soul. I fully intend to return it once this is over and I walk away alive. Deal?”

Everyone stayed quiet. It's not like you had a choice. 

You just shook your head and walked outside. It was freezing, but you were so pissed and unsettled that the cold air felt good. You started walking, but you didn't know where to go, you just needed to get away. You started thinking about everything. Bobby’s Soul. Your heart started racing. The apocalypse. Your hands started shaking.  Lucifer. Your knees went weak which caused you to fall. The cage… Sam, losing Sam. Your chest became tight. You tried to take deep breaths, but your lungs were working against you. As you started gasping for air you felt arms around you. 

“You're ok. I'm here. It's ok Baby. Everything is going to be ok.” Sam’s whispered trying to comfort you “Deep Breath.” he did as he told you and you copied. He squeezed you tighter. “ Again. “ you took a deep breath with him again. “Keep going.” you both did again. He started humming an Elvis song. It was helping. 

Your chest loosened. Your hand stopped shaking. Your heartbeat returning to normal. 

“Thank you.” 

“Not a problem. You know I got you.”

“Yea.” but for how much longer? You didn't want to think about it. 

“Do you wana to talk about anything?”

“Not really. I'm going to go lie down.”

He stood up. You were still in his arms. You didn't have the energy to fight. He carried you into the house. You put your hand on his neck, covering your face with your upper arm. You didn't feel like talking to anyone. 

Everyone was sitting at the kitchen table. Cas and Dean stood up dismay on their faces. “Is she ok?” you heard Dean ask. 

“I think she might have had a slight panic attack,” Sam explained. He continued walking. “She seems better now. I'm gonna lay her in the spare bedroom.”

“Ok let us know if we can do anything,” Bobby called out. Sam nodded as he started up the stairs. 

Sam laid you on the bed. You took the wet socks off your feet and he covered you with a blanket. You rolled onto your side facing him. He sat down on the bed beside you. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn't have called you I shouldn't have drug you into my shit.”

“Shut up Sam.” you grabbed him and pulled him down to you.  He hesitated. “Samuel. I'm not ok with this whole plan, but if this is going to happen please just let me love you until you go.” 

“It might just make it harder.”

“It's going kill me either way. Please?” you pleaded. 

He gave in and laid down pulling you beside him.  You laid half of your body on him with your head on his chest. “Ya know it's not just hard on you. I finally got you and now I’m going to jump into hell.”

You leaned your head up to look at his face. “So don't do it.”

He kissed your lips. “I'm sorry. You know I can't do that.”

You nuzzled your head back down on his chest. He was so brave, so heroic, he was putting everyone else before his happiness. You couldn't be mad at him for that. Those were some of the reasons you loved him. “I know babe. I know.” you closed your eyes. Listening to his heartbeat you drifted off to sleep.

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Dean was getting the Impala ready. Sam walked up and leaned on the side of it with a heavy sigh.

Dean leaned around the trunk, “Let me guess, we’re about to have a talk?”

“Look, Dean, I agree with you. You think I’m too weak to take on Lucifer. So do I. I know I’m a screw-up. You, Bobby, (y/n), Cas. I’m the least outta all of us.”

“Sam.”

“It’s True. And if there was another way I'd do it in a heartbeat. I don’t want to leave you guys and I do not want to hurt her again, but I don't think there's another way.”

“Annnnd scene.” Crowley was standing on the other side of the impala. “There's something you need to see.”

Sam read the headline Crowley pointed at. It was about the swine flu outbreak and how Niveus Pharmaceuticals was releasing a vaccine on Wednesday.  Crowley helped them put together that Niveus was run by demons and the vaccine they were releasing was full of the Croatoan virus.

“Eh. Quite a plan.” Sam said

“So you boys better stock up on uh everything because come next Thursday we will be living in Zombieland,” Crowley remarked.

“Fucking great,” Dean said irate. 

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Part 2

[mckiwi]

The Dance of 1650

Chapter Five: Guardian Angel

Read on AO3

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Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Category: Gen

Fandom: Good Omens

Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley, Aziraphale/Crowley

Characters: Aziraphale, Crowley, OFCs, OMCs

“I did the ‘I was wrong’ dance in 1650, in 1793, 1941–” -Aziraphale S2:E1 39:45

If 1793 was the crepe incident and 1941 was the magic show, what happened in 1650? Or rather, what happened the time Crowley was accused of witchcraft?

---

This is written for Whumptober 2024. All of the prompts will be used by being divided up between six chapters throughout October. Each chapter will have a list of the prompts used in the tags.

“You can quit the begging and praying. No angels will come save you.”

“He will if he ever wants to see me again!” 

Aziraphale wrung his hands together and paced in one of the church’s back rooms. He’d gotten Crowley off of the consecrated ground, at least. That was his most pressing concern, but now that she was dealt with, he didn’t even know where to begin. This was as far as his hastily put-together plan had taken him. 

He could really go for some crepes right about now. And a drink. With Crowley. Far away from this town and Scotland in its entirety. The weather here was too dreary and chilly for his liking, anyhow. 

That could wait. General Bell would be back anytime now, more than likely wanting to discuss Crowley’s sentence. Obviously, he didn’t want her to die, that was simply unthinkable. If Crowley were to be discorporated, she’d be downstairs for decades! Who could he possibly thwart in the meantime? 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could admit to himself he’d miss her company immensely, regardless of the accompanying wiles. But those were thoughts for the back burner, once those were invented. For now, he had more pressing matters. 

Four knocks in quick succession at the door broke Aziraphale out of his thoughts, “Yes? Who is it?”

“General Nicholas Bell. May I enter?” The man announced. 

Aziraphale steeled himself and crossed to open the door, “Hello, General. How can I help you?”

The general seemed slightly put out. “Afternoon, Brother Fell. I was just wondering of your intentions with the demon.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow,” the angel lied.

Bell searched for his words for a moment before stating, “I’ll admit, at first I thought your intervening with the trial to be troublesome. Brother Rowe let my men and I decide the fate of witches. Your insistence has delayed the witch’s sentence, certainly. But for that very reason, I’m thankful. If we had proceeded with the sentencing without knowing the truth, that poor woman the demon is possessing would have died unjustly.”

What about all the other women who died? A voice that sounded suspiciously like Crowley argued. Aziraphale shoved that thought to the metaphorical back burner, too. “I see. Pardon me if I sound obtuse, but, what difference does it make if your subject is a witch or demon?”

“That’s what I was here to ask you,” Bell answered. “I’m a Witch Hunter. I’ve no experience with the supernatural. You, however, gave me those verses to reveal a demon’s nature and how to cleanse a body with holy water. Do you know of a way to kill a demon?”

Yes. He very well knew how to kill a demon. It was his job, admittedly one he was very bad at. 

Aziraphale looked down at Crawley. Would he kill her? He looked out across the mass of tattered blankets and sleeping children. He looked at the baby who had never been safer than in the arms of a demon. The ark gave a particularly awful lurch, or it might’ve just been the guilt settling in his stomach as he turned the other cheek. “I’ve been commanded to protect every life aboard, and that’s what I intend to do.” 

“You can’t kill this demon,” Aziraphale said in way of an explanation. It wasn’t a lie. They can’t kill Crowley. He wouldn’t allow it. “The most you could possibly do is send it back to Hell.”

Bell nodded, “and how do we do that?”

Aziraphale hesitated, “Give me some time and I’ll have a solution. This is a very delicate matter, you see. I can’t afford any mistakes.”

The general accepted this, “Understood. Thank you for assisting me. Is tomorrow morning sufficient time for you?”

“That should do, yes. I’ll be here in the morning.” Aziraphale agreed. 

His wording seemed to trip something in the other man’s memory, “Your lodgings! I’m sorry for the state we left it in. I will have some of my men repair things for you. By the time this ordeal is over, all of your things will be just as you left them.” 

Nothing would be the same after this was over, but he let it go with a short hum. General Bell took it for the dismissal it was and left Aziraphale to his thoughts once again. 

The sun had long since set on the horizon. Aziraphale had papers strewn out in front of him and a cup of tea that had hardly been touched. It was fortunate angels didn’t need sleep, not that Aziraphale would be able to regardless, not when he still didn’t have a plan in place. 

He’d had several ideas, though none of them seemed worthwhile. His most promising idea thus far involved causing an earthquake and breaking the doors to the cell, allowing Crowley to escape, but that’d been done before, and it’d surely be noticed by humans and Heaven alike. Scotland wasn’t exactly known to have foundation-shattering quakes, after all, so that idea carried about as much potential as a piece of wet firewood. 

Wet firewood… he could suggest Crowley be burned at the stake, but–

No, that wouldn’t work. Aziraphale hung his head in his hands and scrubbed at his face harshly. How had they gotten into this situation again? 

He mulled over several more ideas in the following hours. One such idea involved Crowley turning into a snake and slipping out unnoticed through the mob of people. He thought better of it when he remembered what God had last said to the Serpent of Eden. He will crush your head, and you will strike his heel. Best not to have Crowley around that many snake-crushable boots. 

As the sun rose and the fog dissipated, Aziraphale set out through the village in search of… something. He first stopped by the cells but found them guarded and locked. Crowley was inside, he could sense that much. She wasn’t on the verge of discorporation, at the very least, though Aziraphale would wager Crowley’d complain she’d ‘die of boredom’ if only given the smidgen of the chance. She loved to complain and gripe, though hardly ever did anything to solve the apparent problem. “Why would I thwart my own wiles? That’s meant to be your job, innit?” She’d said once. 

There were three ways they typically executed witches. He visited all three sites and plotted. 

Trial by Water. This was the most common trial, and perhaps the only execution that could somehow be deemed a ‘trial.’ The accused would die either way, but there was the possibility of a posthumous decree of innocence. The witch was tied and thrown into the lake. They would either drown, proving their innocence, or they would survive, only to be convicted of witchcraft and hanged for it. 

Aziraphale eyed the docks of the nearby lake. They didn’t technically need to breathe, so perhaps Crowley could stay submerged long enough for the crowd to disperse and for Aziraphale to fetch her. 

Trial by Hanging. This wasn’t so much of a trial as it was a death sentence, plain and simple. The accused would be hanged for their supposed crimes. At the very least, it would be a swift death. 

Again, they didn’t technically need to breathe, but the rope might cause undue damage to Crowley’s throat or even decapitate her, and Aziraphale didn’t want to risk it. Though, if the rope frayed just so, and if it just so happened to snap… Aziraphale tucked away that idea for further review. 

Trial by Fire. It was less an execution than it was an act of theatre. A spectacle for those fully believed to be witches and to serve as a warning to others. A pyre of wood was lit aflame with the witch tied to a stake in its midst. 

Could he make it so the fire wouldn’t ignite? Or at the very least not harm Crowley? Their corporations were resilient, yes, but still mostly human. Fire would destroy her corporation all the same. 

Hellfire might not, though. 

——————

That afternoon, Aziraphale convinced General Bell the only way to send a demon back to Hell was with fire. Hell was often depicted as a fiery pit of sulfur and brimstone, after all, so it wasn’t too difficult to have the General come to this conclusion. The best lies always hold an element of truth, as Crowley had told him once. 

And so Aziraphale began to plan this spectacular escape. He couldn’t get too close to the Hellfire himself, else he meet a rather gruesome and permanent end, dooming them both in the process. He could remove the Miracle-dampening shackles, however, and tie a knot loose enough around her wrists to trick onlookers but be enough for Crowley to slip through. 

Now all he had to do was get down to Crowley’s cell and tell her of his plan! She would think his plan was genius!

“Full offence, Angel, your plan’s horrible.”

Or perhaps not. 

They bickered the point back and forth until it suddenly came to a screeching halt. 

“Why not!”

“Because it could destroy you!” Crowley bellowed. Aziraphale stared in stunned silence. “I’m not living in a world where I’m the reason you’re not.”

What could he possibly say to that? Aziraphale swallowed, “And the feeling is mutual.”

It didn’t take long before Aziraphale caved and brought the demon into his arms. She stiffened at the contact and the angel retreated, fearing having hurt her, but she ignored his concerns and leaned into the hug. He allowed himself this moment. They would figure things out. They would be okay in the end. He mustered up enough self-control to stand and leave the cell with a promise of wine tomorrow night. 

——————

The rising sun was met with cheerful birdsong, unbeknownst to Aziraphale’s emotional turmoil. A pyre was being set up while other people went about their everyday lives as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Aziraphale felt sick to his stomach. 

Soon enough, a band of people strode forward with two people in tow, one of which being Crowley. She still had the Miracle-dampening shackles on and a gag in place, looking worse for wear. Three days chained to a cold, hard floor hadn’t done the demon any favours. She looked as if she hadn’t slept the entire time if the half-lidded eyes and sluggish movements were anything to go by. Or that could just be the old wounds reopening from the unusual movements after being mostly stationary. Aziraphale, not for the first time, felt a tug of regret. He shouldn’t have ever gotten them tangled up in this mess. A torch was lit aflame and Aziraphale took a stabilizing breath as Crowley was led to…

The docks?

What?

Aziraphale was about to question the purpose of the pyre when he took notice of the second person being brought to trial. 

Doctor John Davis stepped up and was tied to the stake.

“Hang on just one moment! This isn’t what we discussed!” Aziraphale exclaimed and strode over to General Bell. “We said Crowley would have a Trial by Fire! Whatever happened to that?”

Bell nodded, “I understand your confusion. I do appreciate your valiant effort to help the cause, but the more I thought over your words, I realized that if you want something done right, you’ll see it done yourself.”

Aziraphale gaped, “what about the doctor? Where does he get involved in this?”

“He confessed to being a witch in exchange for his daughter’s life,” Bell answered. 

“This is– this is a right outrage! We had a deal!”

“No, Brother Fell, I don’t believe we did,” Bell chided. “I asked for your advice, which you gave. I never said I would do what you said.” Aziraphale was struck with the thought that Gabriel and Nicholas Bell might get along splendidly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have a Trial to get started.”

Bell nodded toward the man holding the torch. The man pulled away Davis’ gag and asked, “Any last remarks?”

Davis took a deep breath and spoke, “I only hope my wife will be there to catch me should I fall for my sins and that God will forgive me for my trespasses.” 

Aziraphale sent a quiet Blessing his way. 

Bell nodded toward the man holding Crowley and removed her gag. “Any last remarks?”

Crowley licked her lips and wrinkled her nose in disgust, “yeah, no. I’ve already done the whole ‘Fall for my sins’ bit. Not a fan. But really? This entire charade has been something Hastur would love to hear about. In fact, I think I’ll introduce you to him personally.” At that, Crowley levelled Bell with an impressive demonic glare, which really wasn’t helping her current allegations. 

“That is all then,” Bell started. “I hereby sentence Doctor Davis to burn at the stake and the demon Crowley to be cleansed by holy water.”

Angel and demon looked up in utmost alarm. “I beg your pardon?!” Aziraphale all but shouted. 

Bell exhaled heavily and cast Aziraphale an annoyed glance, “Yes, Brother Fell? Are you in objection to my using the verses you gave me specifically for if a demon should come across my path to God’s Light?”

Aziraphale huffed, “Well I didn’t mean for it to be this particular demon.”

The Witch Hunter caught onto his wording like a hound to a fox’s scent, “Be careful how you speak. You being a minister doesn’t give you any protection from the righteous flames of the pyre.”

Crowley struggled in the man’s hold, “Oi, watch it!” She spat even as the man tightened the ropes. 

“I’m growing tired of these interruptions,” Bell seethed and raised a hand, “benedic aquas has in nomine angeli!”

Aziraphale saw the way Crowley instinctively shied away from the water despite not feeling the effects himself. “So that’s it then?” Crowley asked the Hunter. “You tie me up and throw me in just to die either way. I’ll sink or swim.”

Bell hummed, “‘Sink or Swim’ you say? I like that. I think I’ll use that.” At Crowley’s indignant scoff, the Hunter looked out across the gathering crowd. “Light the fire. Throw her in.”

Aziraphale and Crowley screamed as one as the demon’s back hit the water.