#let the nightingale sing again

[pend4ri]

hellooo again world :D

it's been a while since I posted here... But I'm back with my favourite hyperfixation ! This series has meant so much to me since 2019, it helped me when i was at my lowest, and with season 2 (released 6 MONTHS AGO ALREADY?) I'm more into it than ever.

I saw a tiktok several months ago showing the complicity between a snowy owl and a raven, and the brain said woooo aziracrow reference bro

I've been wanting to do this for a long time 🫶🏻

I'm going to try and post here more regularly, in line with my Twitter and Instagram !

💙

[whenistillgaveadamn]

Of course he knows. I would argue that they both know they love each other, but they were just so used to keeping it as this precious open secret of an Arrangement that was whispered in every lunch at the Ritz or hinted at whenever the nightingale sang. There was never any specific label, no words said plainly, but the understanding was there. They both wanted to shout it from the rooftops but they both misstepped and fell on opposite sides.

crowley must have known that aziraphale was also in love with him, he tidied the bookshop, he was planning on taking him to the Ritz after his confession, he had their song queued in the car these are not acts of someone who wasn't sure what the outcome will be.

which makes it so much more painful that he still confessed his love for aziraphale with tears in his eyes and on the verge of a full blown panic attack, he left saying "don't bother" but he still waited by his car til the elevator doors closed. all because

[fandomestuff]

NO "I FORGIVE YOU" "DON'T BOTHER" ONLY EVERYDAY IT-A-GETTIN CLOSER

[saturns-ninth-moon]

Feeling cute, posting some old works, may delete later😍✨😩🥰 2/2

I remember being so proud of this one, it was my first big digital piece. Might re-do one day.

[starry-bi-sky]

FUNNIEST fucking shit that comes with making Danny eleven years old when he had his accident in "late at night, when the nightingale sings" is the implication following, that everything that happened in the show did too. And I fully intend on (mostly) keeping it like that. There'll be some changes (of which I need to figure out) but for the most part??? Yeah relatively the same.

Like I FULLY intend on keeping Dark Danny occurring 6 months post accident. Do you know how fucking HILARIOUS that is??? That Dan got his ass kicked by a goddamn FIFTH-SIXTH GRADER?? I'd never show my face ever again. Homeboy spent the last ten years being a one-man mass extinction event, only to get his ass beat by a kid who hasn't even lost his last baby tooth. That's hysterical. I'm losing my mind just thinking about it.

AND PARIAH DARK TOO. Imagine being an eons old tyrant capable of dragging whole towns down into your dimension, and you get singehandedly shoved back into your coffin in less than 48 hours by a kid whose bedtime is still 8:30. You didn't even have the time to expand your army! You were still trying to take over the city the kid came from!

And he just!!! Shoves you back in!! Insane! This kid hasn't even been dead for a full year yet! He's still growing in his ghost fangs! And he just knocked you flat on your ass in an oversized mech suit. What the fuck! It's like looking down and seeing a four week old kitten meowing very indignantly at you and trying to bite your feet, except that kitten is also actually a black-footed cat and they have a 60% kill success rate, and oops! Now you're dead. You took too long laughing at the kitten trying to attack you that it clawed up your pant leg and ripped out your throat.

COULD I, realistically, span these episodes out over the course of 2.5 years prior to Danny's family dying?? Yes I could! Do I think it's hilarious (and horribly traumatizing, which makes it twice as fun) to shove all of this into the span of (roughly) a year instead?? Yes. Because the show has such a skewed timeline that I've always just assumed that at the end of the show, Danny was starting his sophomore year in high school. So fuck it, lets go for it!

[whenistillgaveadamn]

....if this is insinuating that Aziraphale may have been blaming himself for Crowley's fall since before the beginning of time (and may have contributed to his decision in S2), I'm going to scream 😭

A little animation. Hand of God.

[beerok23]

Hey, fandom. We'll hear Crowley call Aziraphale 'angel' - again.

And nightingales will sing - again.

And this IS a miracle.

Let's try focus on that. Stay positive.

All together on our side.

To our world.

[sheep-from-rad]

Idea! Neglected bar singer darling.

The joint they sing in is on the very outskirts of Gotham. The bars in the basement of a restaurant.

Its pretty clear darling is saving up money to slowly inch away from Gotham and from there neglectful and sometimes (often) cold family.

So they dress as a Him/femme/them fatale and saunter up to the stage and sing there lil heart out and get both the thrill of all the attention in a room being on them and the money in there tip jar to boot.

Imagine what happens when a clip of darling singing goes fucking viral. (I'd like to think it's would be "be your baby tonight" give it a listen if you want. I like norah jones' cover)

What I'm saying is there is no way any of the batfam would approve of darlings career choice.

I love this kind of asks!~ Requests are now open again but we warned, I'm a snail paced writer T__T This took a while because I have this habit where I write it down first on paper before typing it. Like I make a draft first and reread before typing it to see if I should add more or remove some. First fic about singer reader: here and part 2 here. 😅

**DC characters belong to DC and I don't give permission to feed my writings to AI. Thank you**

Masterlist(Batfam)

Masterlist (All of my other fics)

divider by: @k1ssyoursister

Okay okay, here me out. I know you said secret bar under a restaurant but my brain read the word ‘bar’ and ran away with it 😭. 

You know what this smells like? Scandal and maybe even a disaster waiting to happen too. You know what's a famous bar in Gotham? The Iceberg lounge that is run by Mr. Cobblepot (Penguin) and  is frequented by rogues  such as Riddler. 

Life in the Iceberg Lounge isn't that bad, maybe intimidating at first but it became a small comfort. Mr. Cobblepot lets you keep the tips, the lounge beauties (Raven, Lark, and Jay) are great companies, and workplace harassment? You don't really have to worry about that. If you ever get flirted on or harassed by small fries and drunkards and then rest assured a bigger, scarier person at the back of the crowd will beat the harasser and throw them out. They might be villains but they have standards and harassing the lounge’s songbird is a big no no! 

The clip of the singer reader went viral for a ton of different reasons: (1) The singing and the amount of simps you raked 24 hours after the clip has been posted. I have a headcanon that Mr. Cobblepot will nickname you as either Nightingale or Songbird to fit the crew because the lounge beauties are nicknamed after birds.(2) People can see villains just chilling at the background of the video. Riddler's nursing a whiskey at the counter, Two face is playing chess with Penguin who is multitasking in helping mix some drinks. Hell, even Harley and Ivy are in the background having a moment with the strippers.

(3) Why is Bruce Wayne’s kid at the Iceberg lounge? I have a teeny tiny headcanon that even though the reader was neglected they are still forced to attend galas once or twice because Bruce won't and then it will be like a big media scandal. Also reader's public appearances with Bruce or with the other Wayne children might be low but they still have hundreds of followers. The Wayne name alone is basically a celebrity name because of Bruce being heavily revered by the public. Think of it like nepobaby shit. (4) That stage presence and sheer seductiveness. Being a Wayne, I'm sure the reader was taught etiquette by Alfred and was taught how to dress properly. They are also taught how to behave. However on that vid, you look like you were dressed by the Gotham sirens (Ivy, Harley, and Selena) themselves. All those good boy, good girl, good child stuff are out of the window. If the reader was just blending in the background before and the video is the opposite. It's almost commanding every viewer to look at them, pay attention to them, worship the very ground they walk on, and love them! At this point just expect simps. 

The family loves the video but at the same time they also hate it. They had their copies downloaded and saved and then they'll immediately task Barbara into scrubbing the video off of the internet but it's too late. The video has been re-uploaded to hundreds of different accounts and some  news outlets had already published articles about it. The articles ranged from sweet ones like praising the reader for their awesome stage performance and singing to downright insane clickbaits like ‘Bruce Wayne secretly allied with Gotham rogues?’ 

The whole thing is very stressful and I pray to the DC gods that Bruce Wayne is very healthy because this guy's blood pressure might as well go high up. Imagine trying so hard to keep up with the ditzy playboy public persona to hide your vigilante secret identity only for your kid to be filmed singing and being cozy at the Iceberg lounge. Not only that! You also placed yourself in danger too! It's not a secret that a lot of rouges knew Batman's real identity (Joker knows it, he just doesn't care. He's so cool for that). Sure they don't attack Batman when he's Bruce and sure they are a sweet pseudo-family to you right now but who's to say that they won't use you when push comes to shove? 

While Bruce deals with the media, Barbara and Tim work on the damage control and tracking every video, expect heavy guilt tripping and interference from Damian, Dick, and even Alfred (in his defense, he wants you safe and will only ask for you to get a better job or at least work in a place not frequented by villains). Dick will be actively poisoning the well. He'll make you sit down and read the crime archives with him (starting from the heaviest crime down to the pettiest crime) and will tell you stories about their encounters with each of them. Damian will try to keep you from getting to work and will try to keep you in your room if you haven't moved out of the estate. He'll ask you to go around with him, feed his pets with him and even asked you to watch him train (he doesn't know how bonding works, please be understanding). If you had left the estate and then expect him to show up and walk in your place like he owns it. He's one of those cats that you feed once and then suddenly shows up and won't leave you alone anymore. 

Oh, you still won't come home? You still wanna continue that dangerous job of yours? Pick your poison then. Do you want them to call Jason to get to the bar and take you home, knowing him some heads will sure go flying. Or do you want the family to stage a stakeout, infiltrate the bar, and capture and lock up all the villains forever. Go on, go choose. 

[jude-duarte-wannabe]

okay woah WOAHH THE LASTEST LEWIS ORDER!?????? SCRUMPTIOUS!!!!! 

can i please have lewis hamilton serving bagel, croissant and oaty slice with sides of herbal tea, cortado and rice milk with EXTRAAA SWEETENER PLEASE?? maybe one where lewis is sick and not well, he's being very needy and clingy with wife reader? oh gosh i just know you're gonna do wondersss

a big old teddy bear

order up!

hi lovely thanks for the request, i have been dying to write this and get back to writing in general, order is extra sweet as requested and i'm so sorry for the long as wait time my lovely <3 your requested prompts will be bolded

pairing; lewis hamilton x female wife reader

blurb; your husband truly is just a big old teddy bear when he's sick

warnings; lovesick husband lewis, also vomit if you hate it [let me know if i missed anything]

bagel; "where you going, this ain't over" croissant; "don't you dare" oaty slice; "you smell like me" herbal tea; soft but only for you cortado; belly kisses rice milk; baby fever

currently playing; nightingale by demi lovato "can you be my nightingale, sing to me, i know you're there, you could be my sanity, bring me peace, sing me to sleep, say you'll be my nightingale"

"this is the last thing i need right now" you groaned as you looked down at the small patch of bile of your top before gazing back your daughter; sage who was almost six months old.

your day was going downhill rather quickly it seemed, first your production company demanded the album be finished by the end of the month and you had a sick baby to deal with and it seemed like your day couldn't get any worse until was made worse beyond measure by your husband.

ignoring the fact you loved him dearly, your husband was an idiot...

truly, i mean who in their right mind did a drivers parade in the rain without a coat, he'd claimed it was all for the sake of fashion but he'd quickly regretted that claim when he woke up this morning with a burning fever, it'd taken you twenty minutes of convincing to unattach his sweaty form from your own.

you placed sage down in her highchair for a brief moment and began to wipe the bile from your shirt with a damp cloth when a knock sounded on your apartment door and the relief that washed over you took over the need you felt to burst into tears, you'd convinced your mother to watch sage for the day so that you could tend to an over clingy sick lewis, not that you'd not her he was sick and work on the album in between.

the knock sounded again, a sharp contrast to the chaos swirling around you. “please let it be my mum,” you muttered under your breath, grateful for the brief moment of hope.

you opened the door to find your mother standing there, arms loaded with a container of what looked like chicken and sweetcorn soup. “i thought i’d bring you some comfort food,” she said with a smile that instantly soothed some of your tension. “and i see lewis is still in his pajamas.”

you sighed, glancing back at your husband, who was sprawled on the couch, wrapped in a blanket that he’d claimed was ‘just for decoration’ before he’d been been forced to admit he had in fact caught a miserable old cold. “he’s having a rough morning,” you admitted. “but you’re a lifesaver. i really need to get this album finished.”

your mom nodded, stepping inside and putting the soup down on the kitchen counter. “well then you go take care of that and i’ll take sage to her mummy and me class.”

you felt a wave of gratitude wash over you, a reprieve from the relentless demands of the day. you leaned down to give sage a gentle kiss on the forehead before hugging your mother tight. "i can't thank you enough for this"

your mother smiled warmly, her presence a comforting anchor amidst the storm of your day. “you’re doing so much, honey. just focus on your music and let me handle sage for a bit. she’ll have a blast with me today.”

you took a deep breath, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly as you watched your mom gather sage’s diaper bag and blanket. “i’ll try to make it up to you later. maybe an early listen for you and dad once the album is done?”

“deal!” she said, her eyes twinkling as she scooped sage into her arms. “now, don’t worry i’ll make sure she gets some fresh air and maybe a little sunshine.”

as your mom headed out, you glanced around the kitchen before deciding to help yourself to some of your mother soup, you poured yourself a bowl and placed it in the microwave to warm while you darted to your room to change your top, the smell of sage's vomit from earlier not the most pleasant.

you grabbed the nearest thing; which happened to be lewis's hoodie and slipped it on before shuffling back to the kitchen right as the beep of the microwave sounded.

leaning against the kitchen counter, you took a few spoonfuls while mentally organizing your thoughts about the album. the chaos of the morning began to fade as you savored the warmth of the soup and the knowledge that you finally had a moment to yourself.

after finishing your bowl, you settled at the kitchen island perched on a stool, surrounded by sheets of lyrics and your laptop. you opened a blank document and stared at the screen, letting the silence wash over you. just as you were about to type, the shuffling of feet caught your attention as lewis appeared, still wrapped in his blanket.

“did you just eat soup without me?” he grumbled, his voice hoarse but playful.

you couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of your husband. "you look like a raccoon that lost a fight with a rain cloud,” you teased lightly, but concern laced your words.

he padded over, his movements slow and deliberate, like a sloth navigating a jungle. you observed him, half-amused and half-concerned and before you knew it he'd wrapped himself around you from behind. "you smell like me" he mumbled.

"no kidding, i'm wearing your hoodie" you giggled and leaned against him, you'd already come to terms that you'd end up sick eventually considering you had a sick daughter and husband.

"i love it" lewis chuckled, tone exhausted against your skin, you relished the warmth of lewis’s embrace, the blanket still cocooning him like a protective layer against the world outside. it was a familiar comfort, and in that moment, the chaos of the morning felt like a distant memory.

“i figured it was only fair to wear something that smells like you,” you teased, looking up at him. “you know, to keep the raccoon vibe going strong.”

he chuckled softly, resting his chin on the top of your head. “well, if we’re both going to be sick, at least we’ll do it in style.”

you pulled away slightly to face him, finding a small smile beneath his disheveled braided hair. “so, what’s up, what's got you up from the couch, you need a warm drink?”

“i’d love a hot tea, actually,” he replied, his voice still raspy.

"coming up, you look like you could use a solid nap bub.” you replied removing yourself from his grip "in bed where it's comfortable, i'll bring the tea to you"

“sounds perfect.” he shuffled towards your bedroom, where you could hear him dramatically collapsing onto the mattress with an exaggerated sigh. you couldn’t help but smile at the sound—he may have looked and sounded like a raccoon, but he was still your raccoon.

after brewing a cup of tea, you wandered to the bedroom where you pretended to trip and like you were going to spill it "don't you dare" he mumbled which just brought on a giggle from you.

“here you go, my darling husband, a cup of tea for your recovery.”

lewis took a grateful sip and closed his eyes momentarily, savoring the warmth. “you know, i’ve always believed in the healing powers of tea” he said, setting the mug down and looking at you with an earnest expression. “and i believe in you.”

you felt a rush of warmth at his words, a reminder of the bond that held you both together even amidst the chaos of parenthood and illness. “i’m trying to find a way to balance it all,” you admitted, running your fingers through your hair. “but some days feel like an uphill battle.”

“just take it one step at a time,” he encouraged, his voice gentle. “and remember, you’re not alone in this. we’re a team, right? just like we promised in our vows”

you nodded, the weight of his words grounding you. “yeah, a team, when your not a sick little bear. i just want to finish this album and maybe put something out there that captures everything we’re going through.”

"well maybe you could write a song about all of this,” he suggested, gesturing between the two of you. “the craziness, the love, the messiness of it all, it could be something really meaningful to both us and other parents"

his suggestion sparked a light within you, and you could almost feel the lyrics forming in your mind. “that’s actually a lovely idea,” you said, excitement bubbling up. “i want to capture everything—the sleepless nights, the laughter, the moments when everything feels like it’s falling apart, but somehow it all makes sense.”

lewis smiled, propping himself up on one elbow. “exactly, you could show the beauty in the chaos. i mean, look at us right now,” he gestured at his disheveled self and your slightly rumpled hoodie. “this is our life, and it’s messy, but it’s ours.”

you felt a swell of affection. “i love that about us. even when it’s tough, we manage to find the joy in the little things.”

“like this tea,” he said, taking another sip and savoring it with a blissful expression before sitting up and placing it on the bedside table “and this very comfy bed.”

you rolled your eyes playfully as he took a hold of you and pulled you closer, he was always so clingy when sick. “yes, yes. the tea and the bed are great, but don’t forget our amazing baby girl, she’s the best part of all this.”

lewis nodded, his gaze softening. “indeed, sage is our little miracle. she gives everything a new perspective.”

“she does” you tried to leave his hold, the creative spark igniting within you once more.

"where you going, this ain't over" lewis mumbled as he collapsed onto the bed and pulled you down with him, rolling around until you laid on your back and he was snuggled against your tummy, lifting the fabric of his hoodie to kiss at your skin,

"i want another one" he wished, he knew it was unrealistic to wish for another baby right now especially when sage was only half a year old but it's something that he desired so desperately.

you looked down at lewis, feeling a mix of warmth and surprise at his unexpected confession. “another one?” you echoed, brushing your fingers through his messy braids. “you know sage is still a tiny tornado of chaos, right?” you giggled.

he chuckled softly, his breath warm against your skin. “i know, but just think about it. the laughter, the cuddles… it’s all so worth it. plus, roscoe will have another friend.”

you smiled, the image of sage with a little sibling and your dog roscoe as it danced around in your mind. it was a sweet thought, but also one that felt heavy with the realities of sleepless nights and diaper changes. “you’re dreaming, my love. we’ve got our hands full as it is.”

“i know, i know,” he said, lifting his head to meet your gaze. “but i can’t help it. i love being a dad, and i can’t imagine our family stopping here. it just feels… incomplete.”

his earnestness tugged at your heartstrings, and you felt a flutter of hope mingled with apprehension. “what if we wait a little while? just until we get the hang of this whole parenting thing?”

lewis sighed dramatically, flopping back down against your tummy. “You know i'm not patient when it comes to things i want love but i guess i can understand the need for a breather. i just love our little family so much.”

you stroked his hair, letting the moment linger. “me too. i love sage more than i ever thought possible and you. i mean, look at you being all sweet and cuddly while your sick.”

he grinned, his playful side shining through. “i’m not just sweet and cuddly. i’m also super attractive and charming.”

“true, true,” you laughed, shaking your head. “but don’t forget to add ‘sick raccoon’ to that list.”

“hey!” he protested, feigning offense. “i’ll have you know this raccoon is incredibly charismatic, i mean i pulled you.”

as you both chuckled, the laughter faded into a comfortable silence, the weight of your earlier discussion hanging in the air. you felt your heart soften, realizing how much you cherished these moments of connection, even amidst the chaos.

“i guess i just want to make sure we’re ready,” you said after a beat, your tone more serious now. “sage is so little, and we still have so much to learn.”

lewis nodded, his expression thoughtful. “i get it. i don’t want to rush into anything either. i just want you to know how much i love this—us, our family and i’m excited about what the future holds.”

the sincerity in his voice warmed you, and you leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. “we’ll figure it out together my love, like we always do.”

“exactly. together,” he replied, grinning up at you. “and besides, when you start writing songs about our family, i’ll have all the inspiration i need for my own solo album.”

you rolled your eyes playfully. “right, because that’s what the world needs—a collection of raccoon-inspired ballads by the worlds best formula one driver.” you giggled.

“i could make it happen,” he said, pretending to be deep in thought. “track one: ‘cuddles and chaos.’ track two: ‘diapers and driving.”

you burst into laughter, the tension from earlier dissipating completely. “okay, okay, maybe i’ll consider a collaboration, just don’t expect to go solo anytime soon.”

“fair enough,” he said, lifting his head again and looking serious for a moment. “but when the time comes for baby number two, just know that i’ll be ready.”

you looked into his eyes, the sincerity of his desire making your heart swell. “and i’ll be ready too, whenever that time comes but right now, i just want to enjoy sage and you—this moment.”

lewis smiled, that familiar warmth returning to his gaze. “that’s the best thing you've said all day" he replied.

as you both settled into the cozy embrace, the world outside faded away and in that space, this moment, it was just you, him, and the love you shared—a beautiful mess of laughter, dreams, and all the moments yet to come.

"i love you, you big teddy bear" you mumbled as he began to doze off while still clinging to your body, you truly couldn't have wished for a better life than the one you had, it was the best thing that had ever happened to you and you were determined to never lose it.

[letthenightingalessingagain]

Hell yeah! 🎉🥰🥲

NYT says that the guild leadership voted to end the strike and that writers can resume work on Wednesday. Right? Are we out of the woods?

Well, the membership still needs to ratify and vote on the deal, afaik. But today I am taking the post-it notes with the plot of Season 3 out and putting them up on the wall, and expect I will be staring at them gloomily wondering about all the things I didn't put down or hadn't thought through, and trying to remember how to write scripts.

[orayart]

Wahoo!! Commission for @wilyserpent to illustrate their fic "Supernova" you can read here !

Text inspired by @pend4ri 's work on her animatic "Let The Nightingale Sing Again"

[itachiiwrites]

"I've rejected affection for years and years, now I finally have it, and damn it, it's kind of weird.."

Pairing: Gojo. S x Reader

Satoru would be purposely obnoxious to drive you away, why would you be so willing to be with someone who doesn't even have time for himself? Someone so arrogant, someone so monsterous. But he sees how determined you are to not leave him, clinging and leeching onto him for love when feeding him yours.

He knew unconditional love was not simply conceptual because he was with Suguru once, but again, he doesn't want to hold onto that delicate string of hope that makes the strongest doomed when in love. He would never let himself be that level of pathetic again, ever.

So he tries every antic possible to drive you away, showing up drenched in blood and grim from exorcising curses, giving you graphic depictions of how he killed each one of them, bones guts, sometimes even bring in distasteful souvenirs from his endless conquests of defeating each, crudely joking about it. Satoru would not mask the depth of darkness in his thoughts, just to drive you away.

But he'd be surprised each time when you'd watch him with such endearment in your eyes, scrubbing his back as you bathe him, listening to his exhaustive descriptions of heinous acts as if you were hearing a nightingale sing.

"I hate everyone" He'd say without conviction as his uncovered eyes would be fixed onto the ceiling, his arms rested on the either side of the bathtub, lazily sprawled out, a rare sight for you to see.

He hates everyone but was unexpectedly kind to everyone he knew. He hates everyone but he was the best mentor his students could have.

"Except me, right Toru?" You'd ask, knowing otherwise. But just in a short span of being with you, he learnt that you had a knack to annoy him too

"Especially you, my darling." The reply to your banter was followed with a soft flick on your forehead.

He hates you, but would present his heart on a gold platter if you asked him to.

Because that's just who he is.

©𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐢𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬

Plagiarism not authorised.

More on m.list!

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Break a leg (dp x dc)

"So, the food here is pretty sweet," the girl sitting next to him starts.

Damian hums before remembering he's supposed to be gathering intel and that means he has to talk to people.

"There aren't a lot of vegetarian options," he manages with a tight smile, making sure to look like he is stressed over the audition.

"Oh yeah, that's true," the girl says and falls quiet for a moment.

Damian looks back down at the script he's reading, though he knows the lines by heart. And then the girl speaks up again.

"So how'd you get here?" she says as she swings her legs. "My name's Dani by the way, what's yours?"

Damian folds up the papers carefully. "I'm Stephan," he says. "My agent suggested I try out for a movie role." He offers the girl a convincing shy smile. "How about you?"

"Some guy came up to me and wanted me to audition for this. I thought he was a child trafficker so I followed him. Turns out he wasn't and now I'm here," the girl said before shrugging.

"Why did you follow a man who you thought was a child trafficker?"

"To beat him up," the girl answered.

"Oh." Damian is going to assume that's a joke, if only to preserve his last bit of faith in human intelligence. He's pretty sure every child knows to go away from criminals, not towards.

"Who are you auditioning for?" Dani asks.

"I'm trying for Lennox," Damian answers, shuffling his papers as if nervous.

"A lead," the girl exclaims before extending a fist. "Nice, dude. I believe in you." Damian internally sneers at the gesture but outwardly, he smiles sheepishly and knocks his knuckles against hers. "I'm going for Abigail," the girl continues. "If this goes well, we might end up working together soon, huh?"

"Hopefully," Damian answers with a smile.

Dani smiles back widely and is about to answer when a lady steps out into the room.

"Danielle Nightingale?"

The girl gets to her feet with a chirped "present!" The lady gestures to follow before walking back out. Dani looks over to Damian. "Wish me luck!" she says before twirling away without giving Damian the chance to actually answer.

Damian sits in silence as he looks back down at the script when his earpiece crackles to life.

"Wow, baby bat, that was downright sweet," Brown's whistle comes over the coms. "When's the wedding?"

"I will hurt you," Damian hisses back, hiding his mouth behind the papers.

"Just saying," she sing-songs. "You were awfully chummy out there."

"I was trying to follow your instructions," he bites out quietly. "Or would you have preferred I didn't?"

"No, no, I prefer my civilians un-stabbed," Spoiler answers lightly. "I just didn't know you had it in you."

"I was trained for infiltration," Damian points out. "I know how to lie."

"That is good news because we need you to get on that crew," Brown says. "Ready to blow their minds?"

Damian lets himself have a little smirk, hidden behind the script. "They won't know what hit them."

[letthenightingalessingagain]

Yes! This gives me so much hope that they are not actually idiots (as we are meant to think), but they both are very powerful and know very well what they're doing and their coded language has become uncrackable throughout the millenia. I really really can't wait for S3. In the meantime, let's hope.

So I think I've cracked this moment.

So this moment has bothered me. I've seen several people say this is Crowley breaking up with Aziraphale, but I think it has a different meaning. I think he's saying, "I understand."

Hear me out.

It was actually listening to the song Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy that caused me to have a little epiphany. I love how it's juxtaposed over Crowley rushing back to Aziraphale, indicating that he is the Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy, but there is more to it.

That song was released in 1976, which is a time when being gay or being queer of any kind was deeply frowned upon. Though laws in the UK banning same sex relationships had been lifted by this time, for consenting adults over the age of 21. Freddie explicitly coming out at this time was something that could have ended his career. Freddie danced with the media on this one, hinted but was never forthright and kept his romantic life largely under wraps. This is something that queer people did in general and had to do well into the 90s. They flirted in code, they romanced behind closed doors. They kept their love out of sight.

Much like our Ineffable Husbands.

Editing to add- that the reason this triggered something for me, is that despite the secrecy, Freddie Mercury got up on stage and sang a song about a man taking another man out on a date at the Ritz. Everyone knew. Just no one knew knew. And it wasn't enough to end his career. Much like our Ineffable Husbands. Everyone knows, including them. Just no one says a thing about it.

Which brings me back to A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square.

This song is about one magical night. A couple meet, fall in love, feel the magic of their romance, and then as the sun comes up they go home. It is something like a dream that has to be let go with the harsh light of day. But there is hope, because sometimes they can hear the echo of the nightingale. A promise perhaps to meet again.

So I think it is widely assumed that there is more to the 1941 flashback. I tend to concur. I think we will see the origin of why this song is important to them. I suspect the song is about them. They have one magical night, where they are both brave and express their love for each other. But then the sun comes up and they realise that they have to go back to their lives. I think they will acknowledge that the incident with the zombies was a close call, and they need to cool off and stay away from each other. Slow down.

So 1967 is the first time they have seen each other since. They both know how they feel, they're just waiting for the right time. They shouldn't have met at all, except Aziraphale wants to give Crowley the holy water. I think that explains the awkwardness but also their softness toward each other. It's a meeting of lovers, but the time isn't right just yet. No nightingales are singing. That's what Aziraphale means by "You go too fast for me." Not yet, it's too soon. We're still under suspicion.

So the end of season one, the world is not over and our ineffable husbands are free. What do they do? They go for date at the Ritz. You can not tell me this is not a date. Sorry, don't believe you. "The Ritz is the most romantic hotel in the world." It's like their whole selling point. It's why it pops up in the lyrics of Berkley Square, and also in the lyrics of Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy. It's the place where magic happens. And for me, the playing of the song, and the reference from God herself, it's saying the time is right. They can finally be together again. This is their moment.

So Season Two. I've read reviews of season two where people liken it to fanfiction. Neil calls it is a bridge season. I think it's the dream. Not actually a dream, I don't think Neil is that unoriginal. But in the song they liken that one magical night to a dream. It's a fantasy that they get to live until the sun comes up. They get to live their dream for four years. They are together and they are in love but they are still living in secret. They still don't acknowledge it. They're still holding back. One of the themes in this series is timing is everything. Maggie and Nina's relationship doesn't work because timing. The magic trick worked the time it mattered. Timing is important, and the ineffable husbands are bad at it. They should have thrown themselves into this but they were too cautious and they missed their chance.

I think this conversation is when Crowley realises. Not that he is love with Aziraphale, that was established in 1941. But that everyone knows anyway. There is no reason to hide. No one cares that they're an item. Aziraphale has a similar epiphany after his chat with Shax. So they both decide to move the relationship along, but damn do they have bad timing.

Now I am as confused and heart broken as anyone about the final fifteen. And I am certain that there is something that we are not seeing, a trick that we've missed. There are six minutes unaccounted for. Neil says its a continuity error, but he's demon, he lies.

So here is what I think, and why this line "that's the point, no nightingales" is important. At some point during that conversation Crowley catches on. Whether they have a moment of stopped time, or the fact that Aziraphale is acting so utterly unhinged, there is something that happens that we don't see and it clues him in. He is hurt and angry yes, but he understands. What he is understanding is that the dawn came stealing up, and that the interlude is over. The nightingales stopped singing, and they have to go back to work. He gets it and that's how he lets Aziraphale know.

"You're an idiot, we could have been us." He doesn't like the plan, whatever it is. He thinks running would have been preferable, but he is resigned to it.

Then that kiss. One last goodbye just in case the world ends? Desperate longing and years of pent up frustration? I don't think the trick is here. I think this is misdirection. We're all looking at the kiss, we missed the coded message that came right before. I think "No nightingales" may also suggest that this isn't the kiss. The romantic kiss will come later, when the nightingales sing again. And they will, of that I'm certain now.

The song playing in the car, a message from Aziraphale or from the Bentley reminding him to have hope. Two things we know about Crowley. He is an optimist. He loves to rescue his angel. We also know that he is the trusted stooge with the steady hand. Aziraphale will perform the theatrics, he will do the rest. The fact that he waited and didn't just storm off like he did when he was rejected in series 1 tells Aziraphale that he is still here. He's still in this.

That's my interpretation anyway.

[the-xolotl]

Songbird, Sing Me a Song

Alastor x singer!Reader

𝄞 A/N: i have this HC that Alastor has a special appreciation for singers (musicians in general) who are more classically inclined or those to perform music of his tastes especially if it reminds him of home

summery: In which Alastor owns your soul, just for the purpose of having live entertainment for himself.

✎ TAGS: sfw, no warnings, Alastor just wants to hear Reader sing, terms of endearment, no use of y/n, gn reader, no physical desc of reader, not proof read

“Come here, my pretty songbird,” Alastor’s lulling voice beckoned with his usual jovial tone, sounding like a lowly whisper. Your ears seem to almost perk up as he calls to you, pausing your current task in favor of answering to his command. Alastor has a habit of summoning you to his side at the drop of a hat, you were use to dropping whatever you’re doing in the moment to adhere to whatever he asked.

The call felt like a tug on your very soul, a gentle pull on the chain that tethered you to him. This very connection guiding you to where he is, like an automatic instinct of just knowing where he is. So your feet carried you to follow that direction, which you quickly realized is his radio tower. It’s going to be one of those evenings, the corners of your mouth curled upwards in a small smile.

Once in front of the door you knocked in a specific pattern letting him know it’s you entering, “Good evening, Sir, what can I do you for?” you asked with a polite smile.

The Radio Demon sat behind his desk elbows parked atop it resting his chin on the back of his hands, “Good evening, darling!” he greeted with glee, “Come in, come in. I find myself awfully bored doing this paperwork, I thought perhaps you’d be able to help me with that.”

You enter closing the door behind you, making your way in front of the console with a small giggle, “You’d like me to provide with a lil’ live performance, I take it?” you raise a playful eyebrow at him. This has become quite the habit since he summoned you to the hotel ever since his return.

You’ve been contracted to Alastor for a good few years, even before his impromptu sabbatical. In life, you had been a fairly known jazz and swing singer in some circles. Unfortunately you met an untimely demise due to a freak accident that cut your career short just as you were taking off, ending up in Hell, a little surprising to you.

Alastor had found you at the time you were struggling to adjust to your new hellish life. But everything comes at a price, he decided to take you in after you told him about your singing and musical abilities; your unconditional services for his protection. Simple.

It had been a little rough at first, selling your soul to one of the most dangerous overlords of hell, you later found out. He’s peculiar and extravagant but admittedly not awful. Just different. With time you learn to keep up, and he helped you gain some influence as a singer again by pulling strings and limbs where he needed.

Most recently you are the Hazbin Hotel’s front performer as per his request. As well as his private entertainer.

He flashed a bright smile, “Why you read my mind! Would my nightingale regale me with their beautiful voice for a while?” He regarded you with an extended palm, which you took with a spirited bow.

“How could I deny a personal request from my master? Specially with such flattery.” Sending a wink his way, you skip around the radio equipment over to pull the mic and stool he has for you just for these occasions.

You set your items, sitting a few feet in front of the console with in his line of view. Just how he liked it. “Any requests?” you ask with a smile.

“How about some originals? I’d be delighted to hear the music you wrote, or if you’ve written any recent pieces” His head tilted to the side, a little endearment slipping into his voice. It’s not often he does it, only in very private moments. He’d never say it, not even to you, but you are one of the pets he is most fond of.

Your eyes widen slightly feeling a little sheepish at the request, a light blush tinting your cheeks, “There’s a couple pieces actually,” you straighten your back and fold your hands over your lap preparing to start.

With a wave of his hand one of his shadows skidded about the floor, rising up to place one of his radios next to you.

“Lovely,” his radio filter crackling with the low notes of his voice, “Just adjust the dials and it will do the rest.”

Eying the item curiously you reach out to turn the little nubs. A small sparkle of green light flashed at your fingers. So quick you almost thought it hadn’t actually happened. Though, just as you adjust the frequency a familiar tune begins to play. Your tune.

Blinking a few times you readjust on your seat, things Alastor does shouldn’t surprise you anymore yet he manages to catch you every time. “This one is my favorite in particular,” you speak into the mic now, “Sound coming clear?”

“Crystal,” he says in his transatlantic accent as he leans forward on his desk.

You don’t miss a beat to come in hearing the into of your own song playing. Your melodic voice filling the room carried but the romantic jazz beat. It’s definitely a more modern sound of jazz but Alastor enjoys it nevertheless judging but the way his foot taps to the rhythm.

Gracefully, you croon every word into your mic hitting every note with expert ease. Not a single flat or too sharp note. Even as the tempo crescendos or decrescendos. Your delivery of the piece full of emotion, holding the mic delicately between your fingers. It’s mesmerizing even as you sit in place but your voice holds all the colors to paint the story of your song. Perfectly tuned voice with high and low notes.

As the song came to its end, Alastor applauded along to a clapping track sounding with a proud smile playing on his lips, “What a performance! Truly, one of the most unique voices I’ve ever heard,” he praises, “Well done, dear.”

You smile while bowing your head, “I’m glad you’ve found it enjoyable. I should add it to my set list for the next performance at the hotel.” You couldn’t help the rosie tint rising on your cheeks again. You had been quite proud of that one, so having Alastor appreciate it before anyone else has had the chance to hear it filled you with pride and joy. “You got to be the very first one to hear it.”

His smile grows playful, “Oh-ho! What an honor, dearest,” slightly bowing his head and bringing a hand over his heart to make it heartfelt. You chuckle at the gesture.

For the next couple hours the radio tower becomes immersed in the blues and swing that accompanied your finely tuned voice. The Overlord seemed delighted to have a personal concert while he worked. It reminded him about the little things he enjoyed while alive, your style being different but jazz will always take him back to good ol’ times in New Orleans.

His foot taps along to the rhythms, humming along to the words quietly harmonizing with you. His smile becoming more relaxed and work didn’t seem half bad anymore song after song. It relaxed him greatly to have your voice bouncing off the walls of the radio office, especially being the two of you. It’s like being in your own little bubble, he liked that.

Though, more than just for nostalgia he had other reasons to constantly call private audiences with you he would never tell you about. Even if he seems concentrated now, he occasionally stole glances at you, taking in the way your body swayed to the various beats.

By the end of the night, you had essentially performed a whole set. Some were your own songs, others classics and some of Alastor’s personal favorites. The mood is light even Alastor seems in a much better mood.

“Thank you very much, dearie, phenomenal show,” he praised as a wave of claps are heard throughout the room. You get up to give a deeper bow much like you often do for your public performances.

“Thank you, thank you! I’ll be here all week,” you joked, “I’m only a call away.”

Alastor chuckled standing up from his chair, finally, gathering all of his work, “You must be tired by now, how about we both retire, hm?” his hand cupping your lower back gently and guiding the both of you to the door. “Wouldn’t want to strain you, now would we,” he stated more than asked opening the for you.

Yawning you nodded, “It’s getting quite late. I think we both got carried away,” He agreed with a silent nod.

“I’ll take you to your quarters, it’ll be quicker,” hooking your arm under his, the shadows beneath his feet wiggle and curl around you, “Hold on tight, darling.”

You didn’t need to be told twice knowing exactly what he’s doing. You pressed further into his side tightening your grip on his arm. The darkness swallowed and you felt like the ground beneath you became quick sand sinking deeper and deeper into the void, it’s uncomfortable, a little claustrophobic. Fortunately it didn’t have to last very long, you could never get use to his teleportation method.

Delivering you right in front of your door, he lets you hold him until your legs are steady again. “Here we are!” he cheered, before letting you go he brings your hand delicately to his lips, “Good night, my songbird,” pressing a small kiss to your knuckles.

You smile up at him tiredly, “You as well, Sir.”

With that he’s disappearing off again, yet you never feel like he ever truly leaves. At least, figuratively. Somehow you always feel his presence lingering over you, in a good way.

© 2024 the-xolotl — all rights reserved. do NOT alter, translate, or repost my works on any platform without my consent, do not claim my content as yours.

—

࿐ dividers © cafekitsune ✧

[ihaveforgortoomany]

Talking about Isolde's 2.1 garment "And all that Jazz"

(This isn't spoilers for CN since we already know Isolde will join the suitcase but yeah talking about an unreleased skin yippee)

This garment is current my favourite out of all skins currently because it almost gives us a bit of development on Isolde's character post-everything in Vienna.

Voicelines indicate a growing freedom in Isolde ("what should I sing?" and "The show is over but the loneliness persists"), there's a sense Isolde acts less for an audience or expectations of others instead for what she wants - and thats Kakania.

If anyone can figure out what song Isolde is singing please tell me, as her standard garment has her singing parts from Tosca Im assuming. But I think its obvious the person she is singing about is Kakania.

"Take my hand"

"To be yours alone"

"Then I found you"

"Don't let go"

(We only got fragments of the song but stylistically it sounds similar to Druvis' EP or again stretching?)

Its also a giveaway that her outfit now includes much more green highlights, even the nightingale has green more than pink. Kakania did in some way free Isolde's repression - while ofc not realising the disastrous consequences I think it some what helped?

The voice lines here feel like they reference the totally not sad "it was a beautiful dream that I forgot how ugly I was looking at it" scene (still my favourite scene in r1999). Kakania did bring happiness to Isolde's life, there is no changing that but now after everything the both of them stand at a difficult point in their relationship, already unethical as doctor and patient.

Back to a post I made on if Schneider and Isolde could interact what would it be like, it would make sense for the Opera -> Jazz change, WW1 was followed by the Jazz Age by the 1920s. Im wondering had the Storm never occurred, would either Isolde or Kakania had gotten involved in WW1? Would they survive? Ive seen a fic about how they escape to the US where Isolde begins to perform Jazz but yea I love her new garment lol.