#maybe it’s bc of how i look but no one expects me to fiend for horror manga and i don’t get it

[emmaspolaroid]

objectively the funniest part of my tpn obsession is the way i repeatedly told my bf “i don’t want to watch that anime it looks sad i can just tell” and then Netflix started playing the first episode anyway

[altruistic-meme]

oh you KNOW i gotta ask 10

and also 11 cause maybe talking about it would help

you are one cruel, cruel fiend, milo. why would you do this to me.

10. 🤡How many Wips are you actively working on?

alexa play "oh my dear lord" by the unlikely candidates

okay. okay. so in the interest of trying to limit what we consider ACTIVELY working on, i'm going to exclude fics that i'm not really sure if i'll ever finish and fics that i haven't actually STARTED writing, but i'm still going to include fics i know i'm going to return to even if i haven't touched them in a while. so let's check the WIP list...

3 for All for the Game (why is there) joy in this poison, Figurative Ghosts, go low

2 for Young Royals Dare(d) To Do It, Not Supposed to Know*

1 for Captive Prince laurent stabs damen

9 for Bungo Stray Dogs blackhole time fuckery, will you be mine? (no sir), The Port Mafia Boss's Most Loyal Dog, me-ow, dazai's job, abo au, outsider POV of corruption, who tf is slug????, not really a college au,

so that is... 15 TOTAL, most of which are currently bsd fics bc i have been bouncing between all of the WIPs there with incredible frequency cus my brain refuses to just STAY PUT ON ONE.

*techinically i haven't actually written anything for NSTK, but because it is one half of the Parallels AU and i have written for Dare(d), which is its partner fic, i'm still counting that as having worked on it. especially since they're 2 POVs of the same story, which means some of the events in Dare(d) will be shown in NSTK as well, so the same dialogue will be used in both for scenes they share.

11. 🛠Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now?

oh this is about to be so long im so sorry

i think there's something im struggling with with all of my bsd WIPs right now, which is probably part of why there are just so many that i'm actively working on bc if i get stuck on one i can just move to something else for a while ;;;;

largely, i feel like im struggling a lot with figuring out Dazai and Chuuya's characters which obviously affects all of the WIPs since they're all skk-centric!! but they're both such complex characters with a super complex relationship with each other and i really love that about them and i want to be able to get that across, even in the shorter fics!! (this was also a struggle with the torturing kunikida fic, though since it was from Kunikida's POV it was a little easier bc i could show the contrast to what he expected of skk vs. what he saw that day to help get that across)

but just. characterization is ALWAYS an issue for me, especially when i first start writing characters. and i know that it'll be fine bc it always is, i think my anxiety about it causes me to put in the effort to really make the characters work and people usually really seem to enjoy them?? it is one of the things about my writing that people mention most often (and i will never tire of that, see: lots of anxiety about it) so i know i should calm down about it but HHHHHH

on the brightside(?) i do have a WIP that's still very much in the planning stages that will allow me to look at and play with a lot of the more toxic/codependent/generally unhealthy aspects of the two of them + their relationship while also giving me some more wiggle room in their characterization, which i think will be a fun way to help curb some of that anxiety when i actually start writing it.

and outside of that, looking at a specific WIP for an issue im facing currently: Loyal Dog is giving me SO MUCH TROUBLE bc i know what needs to happen and i know overall how the story is going to go and what the main points in it are. but actually figuring out how to write what i need to get down is. a struggle.

like it's just. i know the main plot and the main points and some of what needs to be done to get there. but the finer details are tripping me up. this time i think the outsider POV is working against me here, but also having it from an outsider POV is necessary to the story as i want it told!! idk. it's a LOT stupid little details that i need to plan and decide on while trying to make it plausible that's stressing me out more and hhhhhhhhhh

[ writer WIP asks to help me procrastinate writing ]

[charmixpower]

Up till this day I will always get confused on rivens “ethnicity” (or I guess what kind of ethnicity he’s modeled after)🤠 like i can see why some people would think he’s a white boy but simultaneously he’s not as “white boy” looking as like sky Brandon or Timmy? Then I guess helia to a certain extent is the most Asian coded Bcs of his features and hair etc but I guess what throws me off is the fact that he’s saladins grandson and saladin looks pretty old and white to me😭 and nabu I guess u can say is Indian coded or black coded. But riven just throws me off so much because his features change subtly in every single season of animation that if becomes super headache driving for me to determine if he’s like white white or if he’s Asian (like I think season 2 to season 5 he had similar to eyes as helia and Musa who are probably Asian coded) or if he’s like hipspanic or smth (which I know a lot of people say he’s like Mexican and stuff). But then in season 6 he looks more white all of a sudden and oh well I don’t count season 8. When I was a kid I always thought he was Asian though Bcs of his shared features with Musa but hey maybe they started to have that “after dating for a while all couples slowly start to look like each other” thing

Like maybe riven is waisian? Or mixed? All I know is that when I watched fate I was not expecting a plain white boy🤡 but Freddie thorp is rlly hot and seems like he gets rivens persona down so I’ll let it slide ig. I mean I was just thinking abt this suddenly Bcs I remembered they’re gonna remake the live action now and I almost don’t wanna know how they’re gonna cast riven and also all the fancasts are so bad they just look like cookie cutter white boys and they almost all look more like Brandon than riven so yeah I’m just worried for the casting of the new live action in the future

You legit missed like whole couple of days I spent with my followers and who ever replied to that post

The conclusion? We have no idea, but people usually see him as somewhere between white and Asian

I actually made that post because someone called Riven a white boy and I blue screened for a full fucking minute trying to figure out what the fuck they were talking about because, to me, Riven did not look white. I was full on lost

You thought Saladin looks white XDD, our interpretations of him are so different, he always looked super west Asian with his clothes and name to me. That's so wild

Nabu is Indian coded! Specifically, this becomes most obvious when you look at his parents. I get what you mean tho, I thought he was black growing up because of his braids

Like, the guys tend to be drawn with smaller eyes, but when their shocked they get bigger, except Riven's

But @shiningclown69 pointed out that most Asian Winx characters like Musa and Helia have yellow undertones, while Riven's undertones are aggressively pink

I've never heard of Riven being Mexican coded by fans but I haven't been here for a long time soo

Results unclear

See that? That is why I scroll past all fan casts except Fiend's meme one that was hilarious

Who knows! Riven has just never came off as straight up white to me, in my hcs he's mixed so /shrug

[hellostarfleet]

hello i finished new vegas

wall of text thoughts. under read more bc sooooo many.

was kind of wishing by the end i'd known how much the game rewards rly picking and choosing what to make your stats... i didn't really appreciate this until i went from like 45 in energy weapons like this feels fine to 75 and was like I AM A PLASMA GOD!!!! so noted for next run (i did end with 100 in science and energy weapons I GOTTA be nosy and hack every terminal i see. or my courier will die.)

rly thought this about hour 5 but i wasn't expecting the legion to be so cartoonishly evil actually i knew they were bad but like. lol. CMON GUYS PUT SOMETHING BACK ON THE SHELF FOR OTHER BAD GUY FACTIONS... instead of the vipers/jackals/powder gangers/fiends just kind of being. free karma estate. (in retrospect i don't rly understand the point of karma as a system because after like level 5 i never even dipped to neutral karma. my courier was an angel. an angel who stole every cap, stimpak, box of ammo, and piece of scrap metal she could find from everyone and anyone in the greater mojave area. and killed. SO MANY PEOPLE.)

was kind of expecting the hoover dam battle to be like... bigger???? like just having more guys around. more chaotic. actually have a reason to go down into the hoover dam sublevels that they. built and modeled but i had no plot reason to go into and did wander into the first time i was there (mostly i was like "how much does this look like the real hoover dam" and then realized i don't really remember enough about the particulars of the interior to judge that kdjhdkdhdkj).

also maybe im just too much of a bioware kid but i also think it was kinda weird to not have all the little guys you recruited there but shrug. (also i wanted to see the superfortress. WHERE IS IT) anyway i did independent ending bc OBVIOUSLY the ncr has problems and OBVIOUSLY my courier could do better. i mean she has already almost single handedly solved every personnel and supply chain issue the NCR was having. she will definitely TOTALLYYYY set up some sort of council of local factions as soon as she's done having some portion of the securitrons clean up all the fucking rubble laying around in freeside bc it's bothering me. WHY HASN'T ANYONE EVER SO MUCH AS SWEPT MCCARRAN AIRPORT TERMINAL. i bet everyone would be slightly less miserable if you could walk down the street without the threat of tripping on rubble and impaling yourself on rebar. sorry what. you want local governance. citizen. pick up that can. then we'll talk.

anyway idk handwaving not storming through the legate's camp to the main part of the fort to get caesar with the securitrons was kind of weird. i wanna kill. which means i also apparently i missed my chance in life to kill vulpes. SAD. but i got to order yes man to throw a guy off the hoover dam. AND HE DID. so that ruled. (the duality of courier: last week she saved your president from assassination. this week she went hmm. i see. and tossed your top general off a dam.) also im sure yes man installing some updates to become more assertive will definitely not cause any issues. it's fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine!!

ANYWAY despite all that i had a good time as evidenced by finishing it in the time i did oops. i had a good time. i actually didn't realize this game had a companion system i just thought it had a collection of pathetic men. which it does. but also i love having companions (although did get kind of tripped up on only being allowed to have one humanoid companion and one ed-e/rex. it was always ed-e btw bc rex was like continually under my feet im sorry boy.) i also travelled with boone for like 20 hours so it took me a while to realize like any other companion talks a lot more since im pretty sure stringing more than 3-5 words together causes him physical pain. i love that there's a scene for if you do give veronica a dress!!! i am still thinking about how hard arcade dissed me the first time i asked if he wanted to travel with my courier!!!!! i also asked if it could wait when i got his quest and he was like no actually im gonna keep talking and like. lmao. STILL DON'T KNOW WHAT THE ENCLAVE DOES I FEEL LIKE THE ANSWER IS JUST "GO PLAY FALLOUT 3"??? kind of like how visiting jacobstown was just "go play fallout 1 & or 2"

misc briefer thoughts ig:

WHY IS THERE A SNOWGLOBE IN SARAH'S VAULT 21 ROOM. HASN'T SHE LOST ENOUGH TO MR. HOUSE. i did not sell this snowglobe. please clap bc $$$.

loved exploring the vaults in that i hated exploring the vaults man. i think vault 11 wins for most fucked up and vault 34 wins for most times i thought "i fucking hate this" while i was there (but that's a personal problem bc feral ghouls. ueueuueueueueueue cries in a corner while arcade and ed-e shoot everything. nice moral dilemma at the end though. i saved the groundwater but oof. oughf.)

why do the options with dealing with the great khans suck so much lmaooo.... shoving ncr soldiers up against the wall for being like HA we showed theM CHASED THEM RIGHT OUT!! like girl no i told them to leave bc UR COMMANDING OFFICER SAID SHE'D USE THEM FOR CANON FODDER IF THEY ALLIED WITH THE NCR

also honestly same for all the dialogue about neslon bc sorry WHOOOOO kicked the legion out. bc it wasn't you guys it was boone and i doing a sidequest and then just going fuck it kill them all actually -

ok but speaking of NCR guys sorry to the misfits bc i did not have enough explosives to teach u how to explosives and then u all deserted and were hung. skill issue but sorry but skill issue -

because i had done all the vaults i. did finish most of the brotherhood quests ig and honestly was probably going to leave them alone except then i triggered veronica's quest and they wiped out that followers station so. hot take maybe you guys shouldn't have had like three terminals of kill everyone dead. also maybe don't preface yay we can leave again with thoughts on going at it with the ncr again imMEDIATELY what is wrong with you guys.

i feel like some other run im gonna go all in on punching and sneaking that sounds fun. or lead pipe run. i hope primm appreciated me liberating their big hotel in town and didn't think too hard about the piles of guys beat to death with a lead pipe.

the powder gangers and guys in vault 19 rly didn't do anything to me but if it will get me better epilogue slides. well i did get this gauss rifle too late in the game to really use it (ENERGY WEAPON SNIPER RIFLE. IDEAL WEAPON!!!)

i can't believe i have to pay $5 to experience mormons. actually is it even specifically mormon bible thumping or am i just assuming bc it's utah. anyway im gonna do it. but. lmao. (i was also surprised how much man on fire stuff was mentioned in the game proper since it is apparently dlc.)

is the ideal dlc order release order btw

[susie-dreemurr]

I see Chainsaw Man on the dash, gimme your thoughts :eyes:

Sorry for the wait!

I was hesitant to start this anime, because I’ve heard some things that didn’t paint the anime in a good light (I heard about the perverted stuff out of context. And I’m pretty sure I’ve seen the manga covers have naked women…then again, could be another series?) but, thankfully, this is pretty good so far…! I’m glad that it’s not like how I expected it to be.

The sexual stuff (and the obsession with it I heard that Denji had) isn’t really as bad as I thought and I can make do with it, since it’s not just fanservice and actually has a meaning in the plot…It makes me uncomfortable still, almost quit at ep 7 lol, but I binged it with my cousin who had already finished, so it’s fine lol.

On characters/

Denji is actually good! I thought I’d hate him due to rumors, since I’m not comfortable with focusing on sexual stuff, but it’s not anywhere close to being his main motivation and, unlike certain other protags (Meliodas I’m looking at you), he does not sexually assault people. He just acts like traumatized, yet horny 16yo boy. Which he is.

My main reason for liking him is obv everything else about his character. The kid’s had a hellish life and his main goal was to have a “normal teenage life,” which is only possible now bc he lost his pet, and even now that things got a lot better, his current situation is still shit. Not that he realizes it, ofc.

Makima is interesting because she’s an awful person who’s also in the main cast’s side. Manipulating people, mostly her subordinates, (Denji having it worst bc girlie. Do not make moves on a minor so he can do whatever you want, whether you’re not interested in him doesn’t matter when I’m p sure it still counts as grooming) with anything she can do in order to achieve her goals, that woman is terrifying not only because of her powers (that power reveal made me scared for the baddies, even when they’re 0% unsympathetic!) but due to her incredible talent for manipulation, especially since she’s always so eerily calm…! Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss.

Power is really great, love me a funny morally wrong demon who’d be a dangerous enemy if she didn’t have to be on our side. I love her story with the Fiend’s one soft spot (“Miauzin” in Portuguese, idk english) and her similarities with Denji with both their pet and also…the shared braincell. The sibling vibe. I think how uncaring and ruthless she is even to her Allie’s can be interesting.

Aki is great, don’t know what to say but still. His thing with grief and having his loved ones die off leaving him alone, the isolation within the main trio carrying that theme, his search for revenge ruining his chance of healing and having a good life forever…The scene where he realizes he has two years left and still hasn’t come close to achieving his goal…OUGH!

Kobeni is definitely the most relatable person in the cast for her realistic reactions to all these crazy situations, you can’t blame her for acting Like That in ep6/7 because you know you’d have done it as well. Himeno said she had great moves, the girl barely hesitated on trying to kill Denji and most importantly, she specifically said her contract was a secret, so her great fighting made a lot of sense. Hope she gets to kill her parents someday, because. girlie…it’s better to cut off your family than to be forced to work for their sake like this.

I wanted to like Himeno, really did, but…Maybe the way she acted with Aki is forgivable, since from what we known, she only fell for him and got him to smoke after he became an adult. But there’s no excuse with how she acted towards Denji, it’s so creepy 😭 the moment she heard she was underage the girl should have broken off the “deal,” and she deffo could have done that because back then she was sober enough to tell he shouldn’t drink. And that’s not even mentioning Everything Else in ep 7. Plus, offering to hook him up with Makima, an adult….😬

Everything else about her was so promising and good, but I can’t look past that at all. Which is why I’m glad she died so soon, so we can see her impact the narrative yet not continuing to behave Like That. Or else I’d have quit the anime lmaoooo

I don’t have any other memorable general thing to say rn

[tinyyoungblood]

hi!! adore your work love. could you maybe do smth where stark!reader has to get her wisdom teeth out but HATES the dentist so she brings her boyf peter and her dad w her?? and then when they get home the avengers are all waiting with like comical amounts of flowers and stuffed animals and then reader says some funny shiii and thor thinks she’s like dying lol. idk if that made sense but i’m getting my wisdom teeth out soon and i’m scared😭 thank u so so much love u babe

pairing: peter parker x stark!reader

a/n: tysm lovely :,) i rushed through this like my life depended on it, but i hope i’m not too late. either way, i hope you’re okay! it’s frightening but those bad boys gotta go because we don’t need that kind of energy in our lives. enjoy x

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

wisdom teeth? more like wisdoom

y/n has to get her wisdom teeth removed and it’s the singular most dreadful thing she’s ever had to do, which says a lot because her dad is tony richling stark

doing dreadful things she doesn’t want to do but still somehow end up doing just because she can is a personality trait at this point

no one really makes a big deal out of it since ~death~ is part of their job description, but y/n is terrified

and when a stark is terrified the only thing that will keep them one step from insanity is researching the hell out of it

that information will be info dumped into every conversation for the next few weeks leading up to the appointment

“y/n you need anything from the store?” "no thanks, did you know the side effects of getting your wisdom teeth out include ✨sudden death or blood clots✨ tho” “……..i have a coupon?”

the day of the appointment, peter comes along and literally doesn’t let go of y/n’s hand. he keeps touching her to let her know that he’s there and it’s so. adorable

he would rest his hand on her knee, gently stroke her back while holding her, or just play with her hair

happy drops them off and he’s too Cool™ for emotions but he knows y/n’s a wreck, so he just fist bumps her with a single nod and she almost breaks down bc it’s really affectionate

y/n is sitting in the dentist chair and genuinely nothing is happening yet, but she’s squeezing peter’s hand like it’s a sponge

peter might have a high pain tolerance but he’s in pain pain and he prays that his hand won’t just explode on him

the dentist notices how peter tries to keep it together and chuckles

“you okay there, son?” “yea it’s fine, had a better time when a building fell on me tho haha” “pardon?” “oh i mean i didn’t have a good time, i just had a better time”

because y/n is running Anxious Town™, the dentist gives her a sedative to help her relax 

plus, an injection of local anaesthetic to numb the tooth and surrounding area

she doesn’t feel anything and it’s GREAT

the procedure is quicker than expected and now the real fun begins

she tries to walk but she falls down so peter scoops her up bridal style and happy stays glued at her side

y/n doesn’t mind although she literally doesn’t recognise them and they’re practically strangers to her

but girly sees an opportunity and tries to flirt with peter bc why wouldn’t she

“you’re pretty” *blushes* “why thanks” “you should let your girlfriend know” “i should let her know i’m pretty?” “so you do have a gf? :(” “yea it’s you” “:)”

they stop for gas and peter goes in to get some water for y/n, and in her infinite wisdom, she decides it’s burger time

her mouth is completely numb and she’s practically leaving a trail of drool behind her, but she’d kill for a burger right now

so she wobbles around aimlessly for an hour on some random parking lot as if the ground might just magically open up like a rabbit hole and lead her to five guys

she’s going places. not back to the car. definitely not five guys. they’re closed. but places

peter finally finds her and he’s drenched from head to toe in sweat. he doEsn’T wAnt tO tALk abOut iT tho so she lets him take her to subway instead

normally, she would know that peter’s usual subway order is bread-lettuce-jalapeño

but in her drugged-up state, it had simply slipped her mind so now she’s staring at him like he’d just murdered someone right in front of her

“that- that’s your order?? no meat or anything just bread, lettuce, and a little spice?”

meanwhile at the compound, sam and steve are ordering everyone around bc they want to decorate this place before y/n gets home to surprise her

they take it very seriously too. they’ve watched like one HGTV show and said it’s our time

they finally get home and tony gives y/n a big hug, asking her what took so long

happy tells him that she was keen on getting burgers bc apparently someone has taught her that stressful times call for ~cheeseburgers~

he proceeds to look at tony with a pointed look

tony just shrugs and goes “she was a problem child. we don’t mention her dark past”

she’s swaying on the spot and keeps grinning like a fool and thor just stares at her weirdly before elbowing bruce and whispering loudly,

“what’s wrong with her? is she dying? should i start collecting leaves, i know this remedy—"

no one can tell if y/n is just happy to see the newly decorated home or if she’s just delighted to see everyone but then she goes around hugging the entire team

she doesn’t even acknowledge the sky-high pile of teddy bears and flowers everywhere bc she’s just squeezing everybody

y/n is so high, she just starts to spill all of her feelings about everyone and they’re already so overwhelmed by the hug chain they can’t take this too

“wanda i just want you to know that you’re like my big sister and you’re always taking care of me and i know you and vision are just going to make such good parents one day”

“bucky you absolute PRICK, you FIEND, you’re the best chess player ever and that’ll never change and i wouldn’t be good without you, i hate to say it but you deserve happiness even after you made me lose five times in a row yesterday”

“dad, you’re so strong and smart, even though we’re like never on the same page, you’re always along for the ride, i want to be like you when i grow up, i swear i’m gonna try to be as good to the avengers as you were to us” “aww- wait makes you think i'll be the first to die“

“nat you’re such a bitch about your protein shakes but you’re my best friend and i wouldn’t have it any other way, you can try out as many make up looks on me as you want”

“bruce, brucey, i would live with you in your lab for the rest of my days if i had to, whenever you ask me to hand you stuff i feel useful and important”

“laura’s way out of your league clint i have no idea how the fuck you got her but don’t lose her and i want to be your next child’s godmother”

“steve…we’re your family now. we’re always gonna be your family now. okay?”

“loki you’re not fooling anyone with your attitude, we all know you’re part of the family, you were just misunderstood and messed up bc of your dad–FUCK him by the way–but i realised everyone deserves as many chances as they need because of you”

“sam i would genuinely kill anyone who wronged you, even if they cut you in line at the grocery store, i would knife them no hesitation”

“thor, you poor golden retriever have been through so much, on my way here i made a wish on an eyelash for you bc you deserve better, your postcards always make my day, love you”

she mumbles something to peter that no one else can hear but he blushes and chokes back a sob

y/n orders hot soup and bucky brings it to her but before he even has time to react peter drops everything and ZOOMS across the room in .3 seconds

he barrels into bucky so hard they both go flying, but peter just smoothly rolls out of it and onto his feet like some kind of super ninja

“DUDE WHAT THE HELL” “😠 y/n is not supposed to drink hot liquids 😠”

all of this happens in mere seconds but sam has filmed it all and now slow mo clips go viral online of some mysterious kid knocking over the winter soldier

y/n’s a little in and out after that, but when she fully regains consciousness, she’s on a pile of blankets, surrounded by the team on the floor <3

* * *

let me know if this is actually comforting lmao stay hydrated pals

hc masterlist

[fiendishpal]

hii fiend!!! i literally adore your art its so pretty and it- it just- *inhales* *exha-*💞💖✨💞💖✨💞🙏🛐🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️anyways so- bcz u guided me to the osaaka ship and now im in love w it couldya please offer me some fic recommendations? ok, i just love ur art ur one of ny faves lov u have an amazingly sweet and beautiful day!!! :D

sure thing!!

i’ll put them by category here (i also have some art for some of them, i’ll post them when i’ve got the time)

i’ve put a star ★ beside fics that i’ve read a bunch of times hahaha!

canon-compliant

(fics that i think you should read first. mostly canon-compliant. so these are post-timeskip. after their meeting at the black jackals vs adlers game. these really won’t make any sense if you’re anime-only, sorry.)

stay with me go places by sparksandsalt ★

this fic. THIS FIC!!!!! this started everything for me!!! this is the reason why i started shipping osaaka!!!! the way they handled the characters is sooooo!!! *chef’s kiss* they really stick true to the characters' voices and the care they put into characterizations is impeccable. i also love bokuto and akaashi’s relationship here!! they’re so in each other’s lives that bokuto ends up exposing akaashi’s feelings indirectly and accidentally lmao and also atsumu and osamu’s relationship is so funny and hilarious. they are like how brothers are, atsumu showing his support but also clowning osamu in the process

this fic single-handedly fueled me to create so much osaaka content.

i dont know how many times i’ve read this tbh

wait by sanguinedawns

i love the yearning in this fic. the longing and the waiting and the expectation there. they’re trying to be subtle about their feelings for each other but they’re seen at the end but at 4k it’s narrated so smoothly. i love mutually pining idiots.

in the afternoon by yamaboto

this is so!!! i love this so much!! at 1k we see osamu yearning for akaashi once again. i love how they write this short scene. i could really picture the afternoon light coming in through the traditional panel doors and how the light must feel on your skin. 

take what we love inside by yamaboto

this is an established relationship osaaka and how they got together. in the afternoon (the fic above) is a snippet of how warm the writer could put words together. and it really is so sweet there’s a scene where they slow dance and it’s the best. i also love the simple fact that they put in how osamu cannot let anybody go hungry hhaha 

shout softly by lostsunsets

YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW THIS MADE MY HEART FEEL SO LIGHT AND SOFT AND TENDER. THIS FIC IS SO PRECIOUS OH MY GOSH

i love love loooooooove how the author put osamu's love and passion for food and filling in the pieces on what osamu does to fuel this passion --while in the back burner-- while he was still playing volleyball in high school

AND HOW HE LONGS FOR AKAASHI. THIS IS MAKING ME AAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!

GO READ IT PLEASE

we’re in au territory

(the setting is not canon-compliant)

sleeping with the enemy by billionairevolleyboysclub ★ 

the setting is in 2013 haikyu volleyball circuit. meaning they’re still in highschool and are still playing volleyball and they just happen to chance upon each other at interhigh.

 i love how sweet osamu is and how he got his crush on akaashi. and it’s lovely how they wrote the budding of a highschool relationship!! and their take on how osamu and akaashi handle ldr??? it’s delicious. dont let the fake/pretend relationship tag fool you this is very cute i love them so much!! i guess the ‘no drama’ aspect is what i like about this a lot bc osamu’s a pretty straightforward guy esp i guess back in highschool. also the second-hand embarrassment is real lmao

welcome in by risquetendencies ★

in this setting osamu’s still the owner of onigiri miya but the au aspect of this is that they haven’t met before. so basically a meet-cute.

and man  oh mannnnn the tension written here is good food. osamu is written so obviously into akaashi (i mean who wouldn’t) and akaashi is affected by this greatly and it is!!! wow!! i just love how smooth osamu is here and how flustered akaashi gets bc “omg a hot guy likes me????” (yes akaashi, this hot guys thinks you’re a sexy piece of ass please believe it)

 akaashi in a gay panic is literally the best thing. 

blood brothers by billionairevolleyboysclub (18+)

miya twins are vampires and akaashi has a thing for fangs. that in and of itself is enough reason for you to read this. i also love how the writer puts a distinction between atsumu and osamu on how they interact with/ feed on akaashi.

like the dawn by eggsan

this fic is actually inspired by my royalty au but im not putting this here bc of that. i really like how the writer introduced their story. i remember telling someone that the atmosphere of how they write is like the voice of a soft-spoken maiden hahaha it's lovely!! think light academia aesthetic. i also love how i get the doki-dokis when osamu, who is essentially a stranger, gets close to akaashi. i can feel akaashi's excitement and trepidation.

forgive the sea, follow the tide by KyryeDuBarie (18+)★

PIRATE AU!!!!!!

i love the fresh twist that they did here on the classic mermaid/pirate au. the twist being akaashi is actually a pearl diver and at the same time being vaguely hinted as a mermaid hhahaha. osamu's a pirate that got shipwrecked and got washed up on akaashi's shores that akaashi, of course, saved. 

there's a bunch of cool things that happened too that i cannot disclose bc that'll ruin the thrill of reading this. the plot is solid and the romance between osamu and akaashi is gradual but so so sweeeeet!! i highly recommend this!! but better clear up your schedule bc this hefty boy comes in at a whopping 40k!!!!

keep time on me by yamabato

this fic is based from my zombie apocalypse au!! and even though it’s set in the end of the world, they were still able to write it so sweet and comforting????? i only wish osamu and keiji the happiness they deserve :’)

i also like the whole theme of time in the story and how the story revolves around it. it’s very good!!!

the contest between by batman (18+)

akaashi is a documentary director and osamu is his subject. i love  love looooove how the author wrote how stubborn both of them are and how they could clash sometimes but not in the explosive type of way. it’s actually cute and sweet, you’ll see what i mean when you read this hhehehe

AND AKAASHI IS SO LOVELY HERE!!! so lovely!!! and he laughs and smiles a ton and those moments were written in a way that just said ‘look at this angel!’ LMAO idk maybe that’s just me. i love akaashi so much

AND THIS BABY COMES IN AT A WHOLE 75K!!!!!!!!! AMAZING!!!!

[westiec]

Over on twitter awhile back, I played a little game and we generated a whole bunch of cute fic prompts that I would like to yeet unto the universe. Mostly MDZS/CQL with a few extras:

Chengyi or Mingcheng: 101 dalmations style meeting, dogs all tangled, coffee flying everywhere, etc.

Songxuexiao: Songxiao orders food, and it gets delivered to their neighbor, Xue Yang, who just straight up eats it. The next time it happens, there's a note with the delivery that says, "We ordered enough for three this time; bring it over if you want dessert too."

Lan Xichen/Wen Qing: Wen Qing backs into Lan Xichen after a long shift at the hospital and *insists* on seeing to his injuries. (One (1) small abrasion on his palm where he caught himself.)

Juniors: Trapped in an elevator! Jingyi and Jin Ling argue right up until they notice Sizhui is quietly having a panic attack. They band together to help him stay calm & distracted, and Ouyang Zizhen declares them all lifelong friends after they get out. (He's right.)

Xicheng: Meeting at a kink event. Yes, they're brother-in-law-in-laws. No, they were NOT expecting to see each other here.

ALTERNATIVELY — Xuanli: kink event meeting w/ bonus arranged marriage & identity porn

Jiang Cheng/Wen Ning: Wen Ning is the ER nurse on duty when Jiang Cheng comes in with a dildo stuck in him. JC attemps a, "Usually I make a guy buy me dinner before I let him finger me," joke, and WN is concentrating too much not to say, "Oh, for you, I'd cook."

Nielan: Grabbing the last [item] at the supermarket at the same time. They commandeer one of the free sample tables to arm wrestle for it, and it's a stalemate until LXC says, "y'know, you could come over and we share it," which startles NMJ enough for him to get the win.

Chengyao: It's not *that* much of a hassle to drop Apt. 625's mail on their doormat on his way back to Apt. 652, but if Jiang Cheng had known how cute Yao-Meng-or-Meng-Yao (damn mailing lists, always reversing the names) was, he definitely would've knocked sooner.

Chengqing: A keeps meeting hot neighbor B looking super disheveled, or: 5 Times Wen Qing is a Hot Mess in Front of Fashion Cheekbones Dude + 1 Time Jiang Cheng Looks Like He Lost a Fight With an Art Store. "The fuck happened to you?" was NOT what she meant to say first. (The answer is "nephew's birthday party.")

Nie Mingjue/Jiang Yanli: sitting next to each other on the plane and “oh no im so sorry i keep grabbing your hand and cutting off the blood circulation its just im so scared of flying” – NMJ is the nervous flyer, and JYL is very kind about it (his hands are... so big 👀)

Jingyi/Sizhui: Jingyi fixing his hair in a window's reflection only to see Sizhui smiling at him through the glass

Jin Zixuan/Nie Mingjue: Jin Zixuan thinks that someone is stalking him every morning, because they leave the apt bldg at the same time, walk the same direction, enter the same office bldg. Confronts them angrily, yelling about "i'm going to call the cops!" but its extremely amused company CEO Nie Mingjue.

Nie Huaisang/Lan Wangji: NHS runs into his ex with their new partner at the bar, turns to Lan Wangji, a complete stranger, and pretends to also be in a happy relationship. I enjoy LWJ's deadpan against NHS's dramatics. Maybe with JC as the ex?

Xiyao: businesses major Meng Yao, who has a very particular study routine, being table-sniped at the library by art student Lan Xichen, who really likes the light here. "We can share, can't we? I'll be quiet." He's not. He hums. A-Yao is *charmed.*

Wangxian: kink masquerade mistaken identity meet-cute! This is a Lan brothers mix-up: Wei Ying is new, and NHS points him towards a good sub for beginner tops. He got the wrong tall hot Lan in the silver mask, but it's okay bc turns out what he /really/ enjoys is being an absolute brat for someone who stays one step ahead of him.

Alternatively, SHL - Cao Weining/Gu Xiang: Cao Weining not realizing that the Amethyst Fiend is that mouthy girl at the martial arts studio he goes to he's been too nervous to talk to.

Wangningxian OR 3zun: "I'm so sorry about the water damage I was overworked and passed out in the shower." It's horrifying how many MDZS characters this could be tbh...

WWX or JGY as the shower sleeper

WN or NMJ as the building super

LWJ or LXC as the downstairs neighbor who calls when his roof starts dripping

NEW TROPE: an "eat cute," aka bonding over food. I would like one each for:

Leverage: the OT3

SHL/WoH: wenzhou after ZZH gets his tastebuds back

MDZS/CQL: someone cooking for Jiang Yanli

[witcher-and-his-bard-archive]

Unsatisfied

doing this thing | day 5 - orgasm denial

I really took liberties with this one and went very off topic (yes I realize this is my own list) bc I was not feeling it. This is actually more like one that I cut from the list (oops!)

Jaskier's still restless as he makes his way back to their room at the inn. By now, Geralt will be asleep and for once, he's glad for it. The last thing he needs is for Geralt to see him like this and ask why. The pair of them have shared much on their journeys together, but this is not something Jaskier is particularly eager to share.

He slips into the room, stepping as carefully as he can and shutting the door quietly behind him. There's a sound from across the room and he stops in his tracks, waiting to see if Gerlt will wake before continuing. He shuffles across the floor toward the only bed and frowns at Geralt's form, taking up the majority of the space. There's nothing for it; he'll simply have to sleep on the floor tonight because he certainly can't sleep with Geralt when he's in this state.

At least if he's on his own, he can deal with his little problem without too much trouble and he won't have to suffer through the night like this. He manages to cross the room in the dark without stumbling or knocking into anything and he sits at the end of the bed, laying out his bedroom. On the bed above him, Geralt shifts and Jaskier freezes again, one hand shoved deep in his pack, searching.

He hears a grunt then the bed creaks and Jaskier shuts his eyes. He knows Geralt is awake now, knows he's looking for him but it doesn't matter if he sees him or not - he'll hear him soon enough, or smell him if he's very unlucky.

"Jaskier?"

Fuck. Or that.

"Go back to sleep Geralt, I didn't mean to wake you."

"What are you doing down there, aren't you coming to bed?"

"Er, no. I don't think so."

Geralt growls at him, low, impatient. "Why not?"

"I, er- I think it would be best if I don't."

"Jaskier," Geralt hisses through the dark. "I won't put up with you bitching all day tomorrow because you didn't sleep well because you slept on the floor."

Well. That's a lot of words at once for Geralt. Jaskier wants to climb into bed with him, would willingly join him any other night but tonight- Although he also doesn't want to be left behind in the morning. He's stuck, it seems, between a rock and a hard place. There's an irony there that he doesn't appreciate.

Reluctantly, Jaskier releases the bottle in his hand and rises to his feet. He doesn't bother to remove his clothes before climbing up over the foot of the bed and pressing himself against the wall. He'll appease Geralt for the time being and tomorrow, he'll just have to find time to slip away and take care of things without Geralt finding out. It should be easy enough, he's done it dozens of times before.

But, as always, Geralt can't let anything be easy for him.

"You're not getting changed?"

"No, I don't think so."

Geralt just grunts in response and Jaskier thinks he's finally free of scrutiny. He turns toward the wall and curls around himself, forcing down the feelings still plaguing him. It's fine; Geralt keeps his distance and Jaskier doesn't have to look at him (because that certainly won't help calm him), but he still can't sleep.

He shifts, rolling onto his stomach in the hopes that it will make it easier to sleep, but it doesn't. So he rolls onto his side. Also no good. But the next time he moves, he feels a hand on his hip and rolls his head back to find Geralt much closer than he was a moment ago.

"What's wrong?" he asks and Jaskier just shrugs.

"Can't sleep."

"Cold?" he asks and when Jaskier doesn' answer, he just shifts closer, wrapping an arm around his waist. Which is... sweet, honestly. And so out of character for Geralt that Jaskier can't bring himself to tell him no. He mumbles a soft thanks and presses his shoulders back as if to prove his thankfulness.

But Geralt's hand slips under the hem of his shirt - accidentally, he's sure - and his thumb brushing lightly against his skin. It's soft, much softer than he would expect from his companion and if he didn't know better, he'd say Geralt was fucking with him. But he does know Geralt better than that and he's already been warned about their early morning, so he's sure Geralt wouldn't intentionally keep him up.

So Jaskier withstands this assault that would regularly be more than welcome. Geralt's hand moves to his thigh and Jaskier has to bite down on his bottom lip to keep from moaning. Geralt is just tired, that's all it is, because sometimes when he's tired and feels safe, he lets his defences down. That's all. And Jaskier's body is just having a very unfortunate reaction to Geralt's trust. Hot breath dusts against the back of his neck and Jaskier shudders against him, his traitorous cock twitching where it's pressed against his trousers. The only thing he has to be thankful for now is that he kept his clothes on before climbing into bed.

Geralt slides closer, pressing his nose into Jaskier's neck and Jaskier can't take anymore or he's going to lose his fucking mind. He's already keyed up beyond words and of course Geralt chooses tonight to become all touchy-feely at bedtime.

He hauls himself forward, pulling from Geralt's embrace and pulls himself into an upright position. He's hunched over, trying to steady his breathing when Geralt stirs next to him.

"I'm sorry, I just can't-"

"What's wrong?" Geralt asks, his voice fuzzy with sleep.

"I just have to go and take care of something," he mumbles. He's already moving, halfway across Geralt when strong hands come up to his thighs, pulling him down so he's straddling Geralt's hips. And the position doesn't go unnoticed. Jaskier's cock twitches immediately and he's sure Geralt must be able to feel how hard he is, though he remains placid as always.

"What's going on Jaskier? Why won't you just lie down and sleep?" Jaskier shifts to pull away but Geralt holds him down. Jaskier looks up and Geralt’s eyes meet his for a moment. "Tell me what's wrong."

"I-" he starts, immediately going for the quickest and most practical lie he can think up, but he meets Geralt's eyes again and his resolve drains at the sincerity there. Of course, now is the time Geralt decides to worry about him. "I had a rather unsatisfying night," he mumbles, hoping it will be enough. Geralt just looks at him expectantly and Jaskier sighs. "Do you mind if I-" he tips his head to the side and Geralt nods, releasing him.

Jaskier slides off of him, lying back on his side and tucking his knees up to keep Geralt from seeing just how badly he's affected.

"After my performance tonight a lovely lad invited me back to his room-" Geralt lifts an eyebrow at him impatiently but Jaskier just waves him off and continues. "Have you ever been with someone who likes to push your limits?"

"Get to the point, Jaskier, I've had enough of your exploits for a lifetime."

"Well, he just- we were-" Jaskier sighs and relents. "He was bringing me to the edge over and over without-" he glances up and finds Geralt watching him expectantly which considering the topic of conversation is a little overwhelming."Anyway he got me really worked up and then his brother came home and he kicked me out! Can you believe it?"

"Why didn't you just take care of it?" Geralt mumbles and his eyes are shut again.

"It wasn't that bad when I got back here, but then you just, y'know-" he doesn't dare risk calling it cuddling lest Geralt shy away from it and never try it again, but he doesn't know what to call it.

"Hmm."

"Thank you for your sympathy," Jaskier scoffs, turning back onto his other side to scowl at the wall.

"If you need to take care of things, I'm not going to stop you."

"What, right here? With you lying next to me? I don't think so."

"I've heard you dozens of other times, I don't see why it should matter." Jaskier splutters at the confession, but Geralt remains totally calm. "Jaskier, neither of us are going to sleep until you come, so just get on with it."

There's something about Geralt telling him to come that runs right through him and his cock gives a twitch of enthusiasm. Reluctantly Jaskier undoes his trousers and slips a hand inside. Having an audience shouldn't affect him the way it does; usually, he enjoys being watched, knowing that someone else is getting off watching him but Geralt is- well it just feels wrong. It shouldn't feel like he's taking advantage, but it does. Geralt doesn't know how he feels about him, doesn't know the things he thinks about him and touching himself while Geralt is right there just feels like an intrusion or something.

Jaskier is under no delusions, he knows exactly how he feels about Geralt and he knows that he shouldn't think about him the way that he does, but sometimes it's hard not to.

"I can't," he mumbles. It feels good to have a hand wrapped around him, but it's not worth the shame that creeps into his chest. He keeps thinking about Geralt hearing him, Geralt hearing him when he was thinking about him. "I can't do it with you watching."

"Why not?"

"I just... it's not right, Geralt, listening in on someone when they don't know."

"I didn't intend to listen. I was just listening to make sure you were alright."

"Oh."

"But you're so very loud."

"So why didn't you stop?"

"You're also very... captivating."

All of a sudden the air feels very dense and Jaskier struggles to catch his breath. "Geralt," he breathes, "are you telling me you liked listening to me jerk off?"

"I didn't dislike it."

"Oh. Is that why you- tonight?"

"No," Geralt says firmly. "We have to get an early start, we both need to get some sleep."

"Ah. Right. Maybe if you... helped? If you like listening you could just... talk to me? Tell me about those times?"

Geralt hesitates for a moment and then, "what should I say?"

Ah. Okay, so they're really doing this. "Tell me about the first time." Jaskier's heart hammers against his chest and he's not even sure he's breathing.

"I was hunting a fiend and you insisted on going off," Geralt huffs what sounds like a laugh and Jaskier relaxes a little. "I knew it was close so I didn't want you out of my sight but you were insistent, so I listened after you. I didn't want you getting hurt."

"When did you realize?"

"I'd smelled it on you before you left, so it didn't take much to piece together what you were doing."

Jaskier keeps his back turned as he snakes a hand down his stomach, slipping under the waist of his trousers. He shuts his eyes, focusing on the low rumble of Geralt's voice.

"What made you realize?"

"I heard swear under your breath and I heard you groan as you touched yourself. Something had you aroused already."

"Mm," Jaskier confirms, "I remember. What did you think?"

"Nothing, at first. I know I take you away from town more often than you're used to. I knew it was just something you needed to do."

"Geralt," he groans, "could you try and be just a tiny bit sexy?"

There's a huff of a laugh and then Geralt's breath against the back of his neck. Jaskier doesn't know when he moved closer, but it's certainly a step in the right direction.

"I found myself waiting for the next time. You always stink of lust so I was never sure when it would be. Then one night we were camped by the river and you said you were going to wash your clothes. I knew you weren't."

"You listened," Jaskier guesses, shutting his eyes. His cock twitches against his palm and he squeezes a little tighter. He doesn't realize he's holding his breath until Geralt breathes against him.

"I listened. I liked the way you sounded. Breathless, wanting. I tried to picture what you'd look like."

"Oh," Jaskier gasps. His hips jerk forward and he stifles a groan into his pillow. "Did you-" he huffs, "did you like it?" He knows he shouldn't be so brazen, but his cock aches for more and Jaskier is brave and stupid at the best of times.

"Yes." Fuck. Jaskier groans and throws his head back, hitting Geralt's chest with a soft thud. He hadn't realized he was that close.

"Please," he whispers and he's not sure what he's asking for but then Geralt's palm slides around his forearm, wrapping gently around him before sliding down to his wrist. He doesn't linger long, but just as Jaskier thinks he's about to pull away, he slips his fingers between Jaskier's wrapping around his cock.

"Geralt."

"I thought about this," he breathes, pressing his nose against the base of his skull, "while I listened to you. Imagined it was me touching you, pulling those sounds from you."

"Should've come," Jaskier hums. Gera;t shifts against him, lips brushing against the shell of his ear and Jaskier can feel his breath, hot and damp against his skin.

"I did."

"Fuck, Geralt. Tell me. Please."

Geralt takes his hand, moves a little quicker against him and Jaskier struggles to focus on anything but the pressure around his cock, the unfamiliar fingers coiled around him.

"It gets me hard every time. I hear every word you say, I've heard you come whispering my name and I couldn't tune it out. I didn't want to. So when you'd slip away, I'd settle in."

"Mm, Geralt, please-" Jaskier's hips jerk forward and Geralt breathes against the side of his neck, dipping in to press a kiss under his ear. "Tell me."

"I'd bring myself off to the sound of you touching yourself. Still do, sometimes."

And oh, if that isn't sexy as hell. Jaskier squeezes his eyes shut, shifts back against Geralt and he can feel his cock pressing against him. Geralt is hard and huge, pressed against his ass and when he shifts his hip, Jaskier lets out a low moan.

"Did you think about touching me?" he asks, "like this?"

"And other ways."

"Fuck, Geralt, show me."

The hand around his releases and for a split second, Jaskier thinks he's pushed too far. He doesn't always think before he speaks and with Geralt's hand wrapped around his cock, he can hardly be expected to think clearly. Behind him, Geralt shuffles and Jaskier's hips twitch.

After a moment, Geralt's hands return to his body curling around the hem of his shirt and tugging it up. Jaskier assists, squirming out of it; apparently, Geralt isn't done with him, after all. His trousers come next, shoved down toward the bottom of the bed and discarded, then Jaskier finds himself rolled onto his other side and Geralt wraps an arm around him, pulling him close. And Geralt is naked too, pressed right up against him.

Jaskier stifles a groan in his neck, pressing an experimental kiss against Geralt's skin. It earns him a soft hum in response and he pushes closer, breath stuttering as Geralt's cock slides against his own.

"Is this what you thought about?" he asks, "fucking me?"

"Mm," Geralt tips his head up, pressing his lips against Jaskier's and Jaskier groans against him, wrapping his arms around his neck.

Geralt deepens the kiss, sliding a hand down his back and cupping his ass to guide the roll of his hips. He moans softly against him and Jaskier commits the sound to memory, delighting in the feeling of it against his lips. He hooks a knee over Geralt's hip, pulling himself forward and the gentle kiss quickly devolves into quick, jolting movements and panted groans. Pleasure builds inside him and Jaskier knows this can't last forever but fuck if he doesn't want it to.

"I want you," he mumbles, mouthing at Geralt's jaw, "all the time. Think about you- off in the forest, down by the river. Tonight, in another man's bed I was still thinking about you."

"Next time stay," Geralt breathes. He slips a hand around them both, stroking them both as well as he can with the uneven thrust of their hips. "I won't leave you wanting."

"Never doubted you for a second." Jaskier's breath catches as Geralt's thumb slips up over the head of his cock and he kisses him again, nipping at his bottom lip.

"Come for me, Jaskier." The words are whispered against his ear and Jaskier can feel his entire body melt into him, all resistance gone as though there was any to begin with. He lets Geralt tug him forward, not an inch of space between them and Jaskier rocks against him, hips stuttering as Geralt's hand splays over his lower back, keeping him near.

He lets out a sharp moan, jerking forward sharply and as Geralt's hand squeezes around him, he comes. Geralt catches his lips in a deep kiss, rolling him onto his back and fitting himself against him.

Jaskier is barely aware beyond the blood rushing in his ears, but he can feel Geralt moving against him, hear the soft groans against his lips and he drowns in it. His whole body is alight and when Geralt rocks against him it's almost too sensitive. He wraps his arms around him, letting his fingers explore the planes of his back now that he's not too distracted to enjoy it. Geralt shudders apart in his arms, pressing his nose into Jaskier's neck as he comes and then he's still against him, but for his lips pressing against Jaskier's skin, slow and lazy.

Jaskier slumps, exhausted, but he's not quite ready to let Geralt go. He tries once, to lifts himself from Jaskier's chest, but Jaskier is feeling especially affectionate, post-orgasm and just slips one hand up into Geralt's hair, massaging his head softly.

"Don't you want to get cleaned up?"

"Mm," Jaskier hums, "I think we should sleep."

"I'll come back," Geralt promises, pressing up from the mattress again. Jaskier pouts but really he should have known Geralt would know him so well. He lets him go and Geralt offers a soft smile before slipping from the bed.

"Don't be long," Jaskier mutters, already tugging his pillow back under his head, "don’t forget, we have to leave early."

[the-gay-goblin]

Okay so do you wanna do any more worldbuilding and/or character building before we get into any rp or? Bc Imma just put this here >:3

*I stare out of the castle wall window to my room and sigh*

Hhhh..

*I start to think again abt learning how to use a sword* well I'd actually have to get one first..

Brothers won't give me theirs.. (bc of reasons that might be obvious) sisters obviously don't have any.. I don't have any friends or family who would willingly lend me any..

Well i'll just have to get one made then! I definitely have enough money for it! But i don't know anything abt swords.. Maybe the peasants will know more. But who would make one for the princess? No-one. Not even peasants. *I grumble a little bit*

Unless.. He's out for a hunt right now..! *I quickly run to my one of my brothers rooms, being discreet abt it, I go through their wardrobes and chests until i find a fitting outfit* (The one you saw in a previous ask)

*I pin my hair up very tightly and put on a hat to cover it* (I have long hair bc afab medieval times, also, just think of like any kind of hat I kinda just made a split second decision to throw the hat in)

Yes! *I look at myself in a mirror and gain a weird.. Sense of happiness..* huh...

*I shake the feeling off and quickly go down floor after floor, sneaking past servants and nobles and the like, before getting to the streets and walking around with the peasant* mmm.. I hope nobody recognizes me.. *I whisper to myself*

*I decide to not go to the royal blacksmiths for my sword, as they might recognize me. Instead I opt to go to the one that is the closest to being considered as good as they are, that Mordin person*

*I look around* I really should have gotten a map for this.. *I however eventually find your forgery and stand in front of it.. Taking a few breathes before I decide to do anything*

(If you wanna describe your forgery in detail or provide a picture as an example, that'd be great. I could provide an example for the castle I live in :3)

(:D)

*you see a slightly larger wooden house compared to the buildings you found on your way into the neighborhood, with moss and ivy growing all across it. You see runes etched into the window sills, and are reminded of a family member telling you “Those Magicks of the peasants. Such trickerie is exactly what you would expect from those fiends.”

However, it feels oddly… comforting as you walk closer to the cobble doorframe, it’s door swung wide open to let out the hot air out. You see a person standing inside, their back turned to you, their hair pulled back into complicated knots, and tattoos covering their shoulders and arms. A light emanates from in front of them, and you hear the shuffling of metal against stone. The person slowly turns to their side, carrying a long piece of metal on a pair of metal tongs, a hammer in their other hand. They quickly set the hot metal on an anvil, and after blowing a dark powder onto the metal and what you could have sworn was muttering, the smith begins to hammer away at the metal*

[aethelflaedladyofmercia]

What Might Have Been - 15

(This one is almost certainly too long for Tumblr, and I highly recommend heading over to AO3 to read it.)

(CW: Brief female-presenting Crowley with she/her pronouns; absolutely heartbreaking ending. This is the story’s midpoint, I figured that was required.)

Here is the fifteenth (and so far longest) chapter for my @goodomenscelebration fic, following the Themes prompts. It tops out over 11,000 words. Please read responsibly.

Through the Years

Eden – 4004 BC

Aziraphale stood on the wall of Eden, watching the Man and Woman walk across the desert. Dark clouds rolled in, carrying something called rain, a storm. He’d worried about it when he’d first heard, but now he had more to worry about.

He’d spotted the lion.

He never should have let them out.

Oh, he’d been ordered to cast the humans out of their Paradise, and to stop them ever returning. Those were the exact words. Take this sword and make sure the humans never even think of coming back.

But perhaps if he’d pleaded, intervened, made their case…

This is for the best. He clutched the flaming sword, the warmth of it taking some of the chill from the rapidly cooling air. It’s for the best.

If he kept repeating it, he would believe it soon.

A noise along the wall pulled him back, a soft sliding that seemed to echo through the air.

He glanced left – just the trees tossing in the wind, as if the storm was taking a deep breath.

And to the right –

The Serpent.

It coiled beside him, just beyond the light of the sword, an enormous black rope, twisted over and across itself, golden eyes staring after the humans as they crossed the desert. The scales of its neck and belly were red as human blood. Its tongue flicked out to taste the air and it reared its head higher than Aziraphale’s.

And it kept rising, body sliding across itself, taking on a form that was more human-shaped. The end result was…nearly correct. Tall, narrow, black flecks of scale here and there. Hair red as blood, in long curling ringlets. Black robes, identical to Aziraphale’s but torn and ragged at the bottom. But the eyes remained unchanged – yellow and angry, squinting in the darkening sunlight, and the wings were black as a sky without stars.

“Well. That was a perfect disaster. I hope your lot is proud of themselves.”

Aziraphale shuffled his feet, fighting the urge to back away. This was his wall, his Eastern Gate. He held the sword before him and tried to look more threatening. “I don’t know what you mean. Nothing that happened here was our doing.”

The demon – obviously a demon, he could see the sigil of the Fallen just above his jaw on the left side of his face – turned to glare at him. “Nothing – so you think that was fair? That it was justified? One piece of fruit and you throw them out to die?”

“They’re not going to die,” Aziraphale said, watching the lion intently. “Not yet. There’s – there’s a Plan, you see.”

“Is there really? Is that great big hungry cat part of it?”

“I don’t…know the details, no one does. It’s ineffable.” The humans hadn’t spotted the lion yet. They were still clutching each other’s hands, scrambling across sand dunes in the growing gloom. “But so long as we trust in the Plan, it will all work out. You’ll see.” When the lion crouched, it seemed to vanish into the sand. “It’s for the best.”

Clutching the hilt of his sword, Aziraphale wondered how fast a lion was. The ones in the Garden simply lounged around, sunning themselves beside lambs. The ones in the world were supposed to be dangerous.

The Woman lost her balance and started sliding down the dune. The Man caught her, pulling her upright. He knelt down to check her for injuries. The lion crouched lower, unmoving.

“In case you’re wondering,” the demon started again, “its not taking a nap. That’s how they hunt.” He leaned a little closer. “It’s not pretty. You probably could have done them a favor and cut them down with the sword yourself.” Firelight glinted off golden eyes. “Be a lot quicker.”

“This is your fault,” Aziraphale snapped.

“My fault? I’m not the one who threw them into the desert for eating a snack!”

“That tree was forbidden! They knew that perfectly well. If you hadn’t told them to try and apple, they wouldn’t be in this mess, would they?”

The demon flared his wings. “Maybe your lot should have thought of that before you stuck a great big forbidden tree in the middle of Paradise! If you didn’t want the humans trying it, all you had to do was put it outside the blessed wall!”

“If they followed the rules that wouldn’t be necessary!” They would learn. Now that they knew the price of disobedience, they would learn.

A crack of thunder overhead. Aziraphale managed not to flinch – he’d read the pamphlets, he knew what it was, but hadn’t expected that sort of volume, the way it echoed across the land.

The demon sidled closer, despite the flames between them, until his black wing almost brushed Aziraphale’s white one. Down below, the humans clung to each other.

“You want to know something?” The demon’s voice was soft now, strangely silken. “I didn’t know anything about the apple when I came up. They just told me to go make trouble. I tried everything. Ripping up flowers, breaking beaver dams. Tried to get the animals to fight each other. Even broke open the wall to let everything escape.”

“I know. I saw your handiwork.” Aziraphale told him coldly. “The only things that left through it were the humans, after I sent them away. Even your actions served the Plan in the end.” He’d need to patch up that hole before the other angels noticed.

The demon made a noise of disgust. “That’s not my point – the point is, nothing I did made any difference.”

“That’s obviously because you aren’t very good at your job. I, on the other hand, was doing flawlessly until you came along.”

“Flawlessly?” The demon spat the word. “You let me right in. Not a very effective Guard if you ask me.”

“Guardian, not Guard,” Aziraphale corrected. “My orders were to…to keep them safe…” The humans had started walking again, right towards the waiting claws of the lion. Aziraphale pressed his left hand to his mouth, waiting.

“And now you’re just going to let this happen? How is that keeping them safe?”

“Orders change,” Aziraphale said around his hand. “Now I’m to – to make sure they don’t return.”

“Well, then.” The demon watched the lion shift, preparing to pounce. “Suppose this will take care of that.”

A bright line of lightning split the sky, and the demon ducked closer, practically under Aziraphale’s wing.

“I beg your pardon!” He stepped back, flipping the wing away, raising the sword to point at the demon’s chest. “What do you think you’re doing?”

The demon’s lips twisted. “Nothing, I suppose. Going back to Hell to report in.” He stepped away, arms wide. “Good luck with the next batch of humans.” A dark light surrounded him as he shifted back to Serpent form. “By the way, I’m probably going to get a commendation for this. Good job corrupting the humans, Crawly. Maybe even a promotion. What’s your side going to give you?”

And then he was gone, slithering over the side of the wall, vanishing into the earth below.

In the distance, the lion leapt, claws extended –

--

Mesopotamia – 3004 BC

A crack of thunder, echoing across the floodplain. A pair of enormous long-legged birds trotted past Crawly, heading for the boat. More animals behind them, horses, mice, rabbits…

The rumors were true, it seemed.

He moved through the crowd, asking questions. Who built this boat? Why here? Why so many animals? He got the name of the ship builders, not much else.

Already the air pressure had changed. Rain was coming, as it never did in this part of the world.

For a thousand years, Crawly had lived among the humans, delighted by their unlikely survival, their clever inventions, their endless, endless ideas. He doubted Heaven was quite so pleased, and it looked like the reckoning had finally arrived.

Up ahead, a pale shape leaned against the fence, watching. An angel, no, the angel, if he wasn’t mistaken. The smug bastard from the wall.

Wasn’t this a day for surprises?

Crawly sauntered up behind him, slipping into a bit of space to the angel’s right. No sword this time, at least. “Well. Fancy seeing you here, angel.”

He immediately stiffened, sliding a little further away along the fence. “Why have you come here, fiend? More mischief?” The angel sniffed. “I’m rather too busy to deal with your nonsense today.”

Crawly rolled his eyes. “Busy standing by and watching, as usual.” The angel’s fists tightened around the fence posts. Must have struck a nerve with that one. “So what’s the story? Word is, God’s angry again. What did the humans do this time? Bake a forbidden pie? Wear the wrong colored robes in a temple?”

“That is highly classified,” the angel said, watching two camels walking past. They seemed particularly unimpressed with the arrangements. “Suffice to say, it’s much worse than a little misunderstanding.”

“Classified. Do the humans even now why they’re being punished?” The angel’s silence was very telling. “Do you?”

“I don’t ask those sorts of questions,” he said, tilting his head back to glare up his nose at Crawly. “But we have made the humans fully aware of what we expect from them. As you know perfectly well, since you’ve been tempting them into all manner of sinful, depraved acts, in every city in the world.”

Crawly narrowed his eyes. “And how am I meant to be doing that? There’s tens of thousands of people in the floodplain alone. Millions around the world. Am I supposed to visit each one every day? Micromanage their lives? That’s your lot’s job, I don’t have time for that sort of one-on-one nonsense.”

“If not you, some other demon.”

“Really not how it works.” But the angel clearly had no interest in listening. He walked away, pushing through the crowd. Crawly would have let him, but the next animals to pass were a pair of lions, trotting along on lead ropes like a couple of well-trained dogs.

Something wasn’t right.

“What’s the punishment this time?” Crawly wove through the crowd, trying to keep up. “Yeah, lots of rain, I can see that. What’s the endgame? Destroy their homes? Their crops?” No response. “Why all the animals on a boat, angel? What are you planning?”

With a sigh, the angel turned back. “We’re…” he glanced at the boat again. “I am authorized to tell you that Heaven has chosen this village as an example. To remind the rest of the humans who keeps them safe.” He rubbed his hands together, probably in anticipation. “Something the others can’t ignore.”

“Something…” it clicked in Crawly’s head. “You’re going to kill them? Drown them all? For what? A few broken rules?”

“More than a few!” He dusted a hand across the fence. “They need to learn to obey. It has all been carefully planned. The site. The number who will die. The chosen survivors – everything has been selected for maximum effect. This…sacrifice is necessary.” He nodded his head. “It’s for the best.”

The sound of laughter, genuinely happy giggles, seeming so out of place in this dismal scene. Crawly looked at a corner of the fence, where three children played a game of chase, weaving around the posts and the legs of the adults. “Angel. Tell me the kids are going on the boat.”

“The loss of innocent lives is an essential part of our message.” Thunder roared overhead. “Once they know we are serious, they’ll fall in line.”

“You can’t believe that.” Crawly grabbed the angel’s shoulders, spinning him around. He needed to understand. “Nothing you do here is going to change anything! These people – those kids – will die for no reason.”

“Unhand me.” The angel grabbed his arm, twisted, and in a flash Crawly was sprawled on the ground, seeing stars flash against the clouds above. “You’ll see. This is for the best.”

He walked away as the first drops of rain began to fall.

--

Golgotha – AD 33

Another desert. Another disaster.

This one only effected a single person, directly at least, but wasn’t that enough?

Aziraphale didn’t want to see anyone harmed. If they just obeyed, no one would need to be harmed.

He needed to find a way to get through to them.

A flash of red, somewhere in the crowd. Aziraphale knew what he would see, even before his eyes turned from the gruesome scene, tracking the dark-gowned figure.

He looked different, but the angry slit-pupil eyes glared across the crowd, same as ever.

What cause did he have to blame Aziraphale? If he had never interfered – if the humans had never left the Garden – no part of this would ever have happened.

Crawly’s eyes met his. The demon shook his head and turned away.

Aziraphale faced again the scene before him, the Cross rising against the darkened sky, the man gasping in pain.

It was for the best. It was for the best.

--

Rome – Eight years later

Crowley stepped into the dark popina,[1] glad for a moment’s relief from the sun. It was still hot inside, the air heavy with the smell of humans pressed close together, but at least it wasn’t so blasted bright.

“What’ll you have?” the bartender glared at him, taking in the unusual gown, the circular brooch, the silver laurel crown in his red hair, the black bits of glass to hide his eyes.

Then she turned back to watch some men playing at dice in the corner, voices rowdy. Crowley wasn’t even close to the strangest thing she’d seen.

“Whatever’s drinkable. Leave the jug.” It would take several amphorae of alcohol to erase the last few days from his mind. And he still hadn’t managed to find a single depravity the Emperor hadn’t already indulged of his own volition, and worse than Crowley could have imagined.

Most days, he liked humans. This was not one of those days.

“Er, pardon me,” came a voice from his left, just as he took his first sip. “It’s…it’s Crawly, isn’t it?”

At the sound of the name, his stomach clenched, already-bitter wine turning sour in his mouth. He swallowed and turned to the angel, brilliant white toga hanging from the golden brooch, who smiled at him insincerely.

“Crowley, actually,” he snapped, returning to his drink.

“Oh! Oh, I’m dreadfully sorry. I’ve been getting it wrong all this time.”

Getting it wrong? He’d never heard the angel say his name, not once. He didn’t even know how he had learned it, but those celestial bastards had their ways. Maybe if Crowley refused to respond, he’d take the hint?

“Oh, you must forgive me, I really meant no offense –”

“Relax,” Crowley grunted, really not able to handle that look of distress, even just out of the corner of his eye. “You didn’t get it wrong, I changed it.”

“Changed it?” The angel slid onto the stool next to him. “You can do that? They just let you?”

“Not much they can do to stop me.” Except refuse to call him by his chosen name, which was what most demons did. But he would wear them down in time.

To his left, the angel was pouring himself a cup of wine from Crowley’s jug. “Oh, no, please. Help yourself.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind.” He took a sip, clearly rolling it around on his tongue, then swallowed with difficulty. “Interesting flavor,” he coughed. “Very, er, robust.”

“It’s cheap.” Hell still had trouble with the concept of money. Some jobs he had more than he could ever use, others he had to make do.

“Well, it certainly is…let’s say, bracing.” The angel tapped his cup, glancing nervously at Crowley. “So…what have you been up to? Still a demon?”

Crowley slammed up cup down. “Still…what sort of question is that?” He jabbed a finger towards the sigil mark on the left side of his face. “Did this vanish when I wasn’t looking? Suddenly develop a holy glow?”

“No, I suppose not.”

“You suppose not?” Crowley hadn’t had a good day and this nasty…prying…cold-hearted angel was exactly what he didn’t need. “So, what, did you think I might have been fired? Not keeping up my quota of souls for the Dark Lords? I mean, Hell doesn’t exactly sack us for that. There is a sack involved,” he conceded, draining his cup and filling it again. “And hammers. Red hot pokers. Really, it’s a great bonding experience for everyone. But then they let you out again and it’s back to work.”

“I…didn’t realize…it was a joke…”

“Oh, a joke. Is Ascending something angels joke about?” The word twisted painfully off his tongue. Demons didn’t talk about it openly, the possibility of returning to Heaven. The longing to feel complete again. What they would give to feel their Grace flow through them just one more time. But there were always whispers, in the darkest corners of Hell.

Crowley didn’t know how he felt about it. And it was too painful to even talk about right now. “How about Falling?” he demanded, changing tactics. “Is that funny, too? There goes another, hope the sulfur pits are still hot. They are, by the way, we keep them at just about four hundred fifty degrees. Haven’t had any newcomers in a while, but we’re always read for the next one.”

The angel looked paler than ever.

“How about you?” Crowley pressed on, because if he didn’t, something would snap inside. “Still an angel?”

He hadn’t meant anything by it, really. He’d hoped the angel would be offended, leave him alone, maybe think twice about snide comments in the future.

What he hadn’t expected was a cry of pain, the clay cup tumbling from shaking fingers to shatter on the floor. The angel pressed his fingers to his lips.

“Are you alright?”

The angel nodded his head, eyes squeezed shut.

Not my business, Crowley thought, glaring at his mug. Demons have our problems. Angels have theirs. None of my concern.

Except.

Except the angel had come over to talk to him. Rudely, managing to push all the buttons Crowley didn’t know he had, but still, he’d come over. And he hadn’t left, even when Crowley was rude back.

“Alright. Out with it.”

“I beg your pardon?” The angel waved a hand over the ceramic pieces, hurriedly reassembling them into some sort of abstract sculpture.

“Angel. You saw your enemy in a popina. You didn’t slip away, you didn’t call for back up, you certainly didn’t draw your sword. You sat down and started talking. Could it be you’ve got something you want to say?” He waved a hand over the messy pile of clay, turning it back into a cup. “Something you can’t risk getting back to your side?”

The guilty look told Crowley everything he needed to know. He refilled both mugs. “Whatever it is, I’m not going to tell anyone. Got no one to tell who would even care. So. Like I said.” He handed one cup to the angel. “Out with it.”

He turned the cup in plump hands, wearing an expression that might be a smile, but looked more like a frown. “How…how do you do it?”

“Do what? You’ll have to be a lot more specific.”

“How do you get the humans to do what you want?”

For the first time in four thousand years, Crowley very nearly blinked. “Wow. Straight to the trade secrets, huh?”

“I mean it,” the angel said, a note of pleading suddenly in his voice. “We’ve tried everything. We gave them rules, clearly outlining what they were supposed to do. It got…complicated. Then we tried to simplify. It got more complicated. We’ve punished them. Rewarded them. Sent them personal messengers and laws engraved in stone. Then you come along, and they forget everything. Turn to sin like that.”

“I seem to recall you once said I’m not good at my job,” Crowley said with a triumphant smile, taking a sip of the alleged wine.

“I’ll admit I was wrong,” the angel said, so sincerely, Crowley spat out his wine in surprise. The angel tapped the jug with his fingers, waved them over the cups, then tasted his own again. “That’s better. And I did think so at that time, it’s true. But for all you said you tried everything else first, it only took you two hours in the garden to ruin all our plans. Not the Ineffable Plan, of course,” he corrected quickly. “But everything we thought we knew changed in an instant. How?”

He was actually listening, Crowley thought, a little stunned. No one really listened to him, except to tell him to stop overthinking everything, stop asking questions. He lifted his cup again, found the liquid inside had been transformed into something light, sweet, with just a hint of bite at the back of the throat. It occurred to him that the angel hadn’t needed to change any wine except what was in his own cup. “How do you think I do it?”

“Well,” the angel fidgeted excitedly, a shy but genuine smile spreading across his face. “I have theories. At first, I assumed there was some sort of trigger for their obedience, and you worked it out first. Something like the Trumpets of Heaven that allowed you to put the idea directly into their minds.”

“Trumpets don’t work like that,” Crowley pointed out, going for another drink. “Otherwise, we never would have been able to rebel. If you don’t like what you’re ordered to do, they aren’t hard to ignore.”

The angel frowned distastefully. “I don’t know what liking an order has to do with obedience. But in any case, I realized that wasn’t it. Humans aren’t designed for angelic obedience; they need to be convinced to do what’s right. So, you’ve worked out how to do it. Some rhetorical strategy or reward guaranteed to get them to do as you ask. Something that’s more effective than any threat or promise my side can make.”

“Very well-reasoned,” Crowley said, finishing his cup.

The angel sat up proudly. “Why, thank you.”

“Completely wrong, though.” Crowley refilled his mug and considered the angel carefully. He could leave it at that. There were things he’d never told another demon, never told anyone. He shouldn’t consider telling an enemy.

But he wanted to say it. Wanted to know how the angel would react.

“I’ve told you before,” he finally said. “I don’t do anything at all.”

“Really, Crowley,” the angel scoffed. “You can’t expect me to believe that.”

“it’s true.” He shifted on his stool, leaning closer. “Back in the Garden, you want to know how I found out about the apples?” The angel nodded. “I slithered up, and the Woman was already talking to the Man about them. They’d been picking apples and gathering them for days, asking each other if it would really grant knowledge equal to God and the angels. All I had to say was yeah, probably.”

“So you did talk them into it!”

“I mean, barely?” Crowley shrugged, sitting up straight again. “If I didn’t say anything, they’d have tried for themselves in a day or two.”

“But surely,” the angel moved his stool closer. “Surely since then you’ve developed some sort of process.”

“Eh, generally Hell has some particular thing they want me to get a human to do. I’ve tried logic, threats, tricking them. I’ve even outright asked. Sometimes it works, sometimes they do something worse than Hell could come up with on our own, and sometimes, despite everything I do, they still do the right thing.”

“How often?”

Crowley tilted his head. “About half the time. I throw everything I can at them, and it works about half the time. Probably when they were going to do it anyway.” He jabbed a finger into the table. “That’s why I say: nothing we do matters. It’s all down to them, every time.”

“What do you mean, we?” the angel demanded, jumping to his feet. “How many of you are there, running around this world, trying to undermine my side?”

“Oh, you know that’s not what I mean.” Crowley leaned back in his stool with a smirk. “There are only two agents here on Earth, you and me. I know I’ve never convinced any human to do anything they weren’t already willing to do, and I’ll bet you came over here because you thought the same. We’re just here so Heaven and Hell can keep pretending they know what they’re doing. Act like they have some control over the situation, but we know it’s all a lie.”

I beg your pardon!” The angel’s voice broke through the background roar of the crowd, causing several humans to glance their way. Soft hands tugged at the bright white toga, pulling it straight. “I am most certainly not – not – no! My job has a purpose! I was put on this world to bring peace and order and safety and – and – and my very presence inspires goodness!”

Crowley finished his cup. “You know that isn’t true, or you’d never have spoken to me in the first place.” He waved to the bartender, picking up the jug, then turned to leave in a swirl of black fabric. “Face it, angel, you’re as useless as I am.”

“I am nothing like you!” The angel’s voice was high and strained in the sudden silence. “I am not useless!”

Crowley spun back, ready to tear the angel apart, but instead found himself meeting a pair of blue-grey eyes filled with pain and fear.

After all, useless demons were punished and reassigned. Angels with no purpose were discarded, or worse.

Throwing us head back to look at the ceiling, Crowley ground his teeth in thought. “Look. Angel.” He took a few steps back and lowered his voice. The humans were beginning to drift back to their conversations, at least. “I’m not saying you’re useless. Just the job they gave you.”

“Pardon me for not seeing the distinction.”

“There is one. I swear. You just…have to accept you can’t control humans. Keep an eye on them, try to nudge them when you can, claim credit when they do the stuff you’re meant to inspire and just…ignore the rest.”

“How?” His voice was pleading now. “I was made to protect them, to guide them! How can I just ignore what they do?”

“Gotta figure that out for yourself.” Crowley waggled the jug of wine in his hand. “I will say, enjoying the pleasures of the world helps. A lot.”

“Pleasures?” The angel’s lip curled distastefully.

“Yeah, you know. Food. Drink. Sleep. Music. And if you find an attractive human, well, that opens a whole other range of options.”

“Angels don’t…do those sorts of things.”

“Don’t they? You certainly know your wines.”

The angel adjusted the drape of his toga, chewing on his lip. “I…I have thought…there’s a new restaurant I’ve been meaning to try. Oysters. They’re supposed to be quite remarkable.”

“Sounds like the place to start.” Crowley turned to the door with a wave. “Not really my scene, though. I’m going to find a place to finish this jug and maybe pick up another –”

“I have a place.”

Funny how the world kept spinning after that. The crowd didn’t even pause in their conversation.

Crowley looked back over his shoulder.

“I’ve been in Rome for some weeks.” The angel moved towards him, one cautious step at a time. “I have a set of rooms. Really…quite nice. Several more amphorae of wine. If you’re interested.” He shuffled his feet, standing an arm’s length away. “You can tell me more about these distractions. I…don’t want to be alone with my thoughts right now. And I think…I might have more to say.”

Crowley crossed the last step between them. “You know, angel. I don’t think I ever caught your name.”

“Aziraphale. Angel of the Eastern Gate. Principality of Earth. Guardian of Humanity.”

--

Later that night

“Siz months,” Crowley declaimed, waving his cup of wine, pacing around the atrium. He paused again to study a potted plant. He could see yellowed leaf spots developing, even though it was clearly receiving more than enough sun. He jabbed a finger at it threateningly. “Siz months workin’ with the general on this whole thingy.”

“Which thingy?” Aziraphale sat on the far side of the impluvium, his bare feet dangling into the rainwater pool. He watched the ripples his toes made with a smile.

They were on the third amphora now, possibly the fourth. Crowley felt very relaxed, very open, unable to keep from sharing the thousands of ideas that ran through his head every day. And Aziraphale continued to listen. It was astounding.

“The thingy. Battle thingy. Plan. Take your boats and hit the other boats with them. Pwwffffffft,” Crowley waved his hands, making what he thought was the sound of two ships colliding at sea. Wine splashed across the floor.

“Not very safe,” Aziraphale decided after some thought.

“S’abattle. Not s’posed to be safe. Anyway. Was a bad plan. Cuz my side wanted them to lose.”

“Why did it take sis moths?” Aziraphale twisted his lips. “Sizzle mons…I don’ want to brag, but I can make a bad plan in under a nhour.”

“Angel. It is. So hard. To lose a battle on purpose.” He slumped against a column dramatically. “Harder’n trying to win. Too many things can go right. Gotta think of errything.” His cup was empty now. How did that happen? He wandered over to the amphora and refilled it, starting a fresh one for Aziraphale. “So. So. Six months. Day comes, all the boats all lined up…an’ the chicken won’ eat!”

Aziraphale nodded his head, then frowned. “Why’z the chicken on a boat?”

“Think she was a priest. An’ the general says they won’ fight until the chicken eats.” Holding the two cups, Crowley carefully circled around the pool towards the angel, who sat with his brow furrowed in thought.

“Chicken can’ be a priest,” he finally declared. “Can’ say prayers, see? No lips.”

“Zirpale.” Crowley frowned, scraped his tongue across his teeth and tried again. “Aziraphale. There’s a horse. In the Senate. I have no idea waz going on in this empire anymore.”

“Oh, I had dinner with Senator Incitatus,” Aziraphale exclaimed. “Lovely home, lots of marble. Didn’t much care for the oats.” He leaned forward, whispering a choice bit of gossip. “His wife Penelope was very rude, you know.”[2]

“Right.” Crowley handed Aziraphale the cup of wine, trying to process this information. “Where was I?’

“Chicken?”

“Yes. Wouldn’t eat. We waited all day and she jus’…jus’ sat there. And the other boats were –” he waved an arm towards the pool. “Thereish.”

“Maybe it was seasick.” Aziraphale took a drink of wine, then looked up, smiling brightly. “Should have used a duck! Ducks like water.”

“Eh. Mh. Fair point. No’ my idea, makin’ the chicken a priest.” He shrugged widely. “Anyway. By the time the chicken ate, winds’d changed, an’ our ships wouldn’ move. Other ones just – whoop – right up and set them all on fire.”[3]

“So you lost.”

“Yeah. But. Not how I was s’posed to lose.” He settled down, next to Aziraphale but carefully avoided the water. Angel might bless it by accident. Or on purpose. “They tell us…they say…erry choice, there’s a righ’ way an’ a wrong way, yeah? But ‘s’not true. There’s a thousan’ ways. Some right, some wrong, some jus’ dumb.”

“Chicken onna boat.”

“Tha’s m’point.” He leaned forward eagerly. “So if the humans do the wrong thing, it’s still wrong, even if it’s not what Hell wants, right? What matters is it’s wrong, even if it’s the wrong wrong, right?”

Aziraphale blinked. “What?”

“Does that answer your question?”

For another moment, Aziraphale stared at the black lenses Crowley wore, then let his eyes drift across the atrium. “My dear fellow, I’ve quite forgotten what I asked!”

“HA! Means I win.” Crowley drained his cup.

But the angel was frowning over something. “You said Hell…punishes you…if you don’ get enough souls.”

Crowley shrugged. “’S’Hell.” He traced a finger across the tiles of the floor mosaic, studying the colored stones.

“Are they…do they get angry? When y’do th’…the…the wrong-wrong-thing? Or tempt humans the wrong way?”

“Does it matter?” He didn’t want to think about that.

Aziraphale’s hand landed on the back of his, a gentle bit of pressure. “My side is – is very angry at you. All the time. Because you tempt th’humans to do all sortsof things. No one knows wha’ to expect. Drives Gabriel mad, you know.”

Crowley felt a smile coming across his face, like nothing he’d felt in a long time. His face grew hot, and he tugged his hand away.

“How about you,” Crowley said quickly. “You ever do a wrong right thing? Somethin’ that was right, but Heaven didn’t like it?”

“No!” Aziraphale sat up very straight, eyes wide. “M’n’angel. I only do right-right.”

“Aagh.” Crowley threw back his head. “C’mon. In four thousand years, there’s gotta be something you did. I did plenny Hell didn’ like.”

“No – no – no –” there was panic in his eyes now. “Crowley. If I diza – disoj – if I didn’ do what they said… I don’t know! I can’t!”

“Annnnngeeeeelllll,” Crowley drew out the word. “Not one li’l miracle on the side? No good deeds? You can tell me. Who’s gonna know?” He leaned closer, recklessly. “I’ll start. One time. In the north. This chieftain’s son was s’posed to kill this other chieftian’s son. Start a whole war. So I…” Crowley grinned. “Convenced ‘em to run off an’ get married. Their dads still got mad, war happened, bu’ they both lived off in th’ mountains.”

“Oh, Crowley. That’s sweet.”

“No’s’not. ‘S’horrible. There was so much fightin. So much. Your turn.”

“Well…one time…” His fingers tapped on the side of a cup. “One scribe was supposed to copy a poem about the king, but I didn’ like it, so I had him copy a different poem instead.”

Crowley blew a raspberry. “Weak! I was s’posed to help Hannibal fight Rome, but I wanted a nap, so I just told him,” he waved his hands, “elephants!”

“I may have accidentally invented the fruit cake?”

“No one likes fruit cake,” Crowley insisted, flapping a hand. “Don’t count. Ummmmm – Oh! I went for a swim ‘round the sea once, and now…’M a sea monster in six different miffs. I eat a princess in one!”

“Did you really?”

“Naaaah, just hissssed at her a little.”

“Oooh!” Aziraphale clapped his hands, smiling. “Stories! In Athens, I had a lovely talk with Aristo – Aristophan – with a play writer. And He wrote a charming story called The Clouds.”

“Didn’ that play get a man killed?”[4] Azirpahale’s face fell, but Crowley waved it off. “Aaaaah, these are nothin’. What’ve you done that y’r bosses would be mad about? Proper mad?”

Aziraphale pursed his lips and shook his head.

“S’gotta be something, Angel.”

“Well. P’haps.”

“A-ha!”

His fingers tightened around the cup, until cracks began to form. “I. At the Ark. I saved some of the humans who were s’posed to die.”

“How?” Crowley slid closer along the tiled floor.

“I – I – I took a family wi’ children. Moved them to th’other side of the world. Told them – told them they’d been spared, if the spread the story. Then…I did it again an’ again an’ again.” He looked up, eyes filled with tears. “That was good, right? The – the point wasn’t to punish, it was to send a message. Well, I helped spread the message. That’s good.”

“Ziraphale…” Crowley mumbled. He glanced at the pool, unable to meet those eyes. The water around the angel’s feet was wine-red, miracling out of his body as he spoke. “Why – why are you…”

“If I’m going to Fall, I want to do it sober.”

“No ya don’t.” If drinking had been an option during the War, Crowley certainly would have. “Why would you –”

“Not just the Ark,” Aziraphale rushed on. “I did the same at Sodom and Gomorrah. I stayed at Babel for months teaching the humans to speak each other’s languages again. In Egypt, the last plague, I – I – I took hundreds of firstborn sons and I – I hid them in safe places. It took weeks before anyone realized what had happened, we’d already left by then, so the point had been made, hadn’t it?”

Crowley pulled off his glasses, still staring at the angel’s panicked face.

“Don’t you understand?” Aziraphale dropped his cup, letting it shatter on the tile. “I’m the reason we can’t control the humans, I’m too soft with them, I don’t have the – the fortitude for this job. I undermine everything Heaven does, always have, and I hoped if I could find another way to control them…but it doesn’t exist, and they’ll find out, and I’ll Fall—”

“When you say…always have…”

“Eden.” Aziraphale pulled his feet out of the pool, turning to face Crowley entirely. “After you left. The lion attacked the humans. So. So I flew down. And I gave them my sword.”

“You what?” Crowley blinked.

“I’d been told to make sure they never returned, and I thought, well, if they’re able to feed themselves and stay warm and fight off the animals, they’ll have no need to come back, will they? I chased off the lion and I said here you are, flaming sword, everything you need in one. Take this, keep walking, never come back and…and take care of each other.” His hands came up, waving vaguely. “Was that the wrong right thing? Or just a wrong thing? I’ve wondered –”

Crowley was never sure why he did it.

The alcohol left his body, flowing into the pool to join Azirpahale’s. He grabbed the angel’s toga and pulled him close until their lips slammed together.

He waited for the smiting, for daring to defile a holy being, even if in an awkward, inexperienced way.

Instead, Aziraphale’s hand slid around his waist, the other cradled the back of his head, and warm lips parted below his and oh.

This was what the poets talked about.

--

Wessex – AD 538

The trumpets blared, the gates ground open, and the knights of King Arthur rode into Camelot, a clatter of hooves on cobblestones. Even had Crowley not been looking out the window, the cheers would have alerted her – it seemed every peasant and craftsman was out in the street, celebrating the return of their lords.

Her eyes searched for one in particular, the one she’d heard rumors of, but it was hard to distinguish one knight among all the shining plate and colorful banners. No, there. The one in a white fur cape, with a white horse. The one who carried no weapon. The smile spread across her face faster than she could bite it back.

“Come, ladies,” the queen said, rising from her throne. Her deep green dress was covered in lace and pearls, highlighting a flawless figure. Most humans didn’t see past that, to the sharp intelligence in her eyes. “The quest may be over, but our work has just begun. Keep the conversation at dinner light, no politics until at least the third course and if the Elaines would kindly spare us from their drama for a single evening…?” She raised an eyebrow at a knot of ladies, all different ages and appearances, who giggled behind their hands.

“My queen,” Crowley said, curtseying politely. “If I may be so bold as to ask for an introduction?”

“Of course!” Guinevere smiled, taking Crowley’s arm in hers. “You’ve hardly had a chance to meet any knights at all since your arrival. At least the questing season is almost over.” She lowered her voice as they walked. “The winters in Camelot may be cold and drafty, but at least we can convince the men to sit down and attend the duties of government. When there aren’t other distractions.” She eyed the Elaines again. “Your full introduction will wait until tomorrow, of course, when the king is ready to receive you. But I think we can at least find you a partner for dinner conversation.”

“I would be most grateful,” Crowley said demurely. “But is there any knight to be found who is as good a match for me as your own king is for you?”

The queen pressed her lips together, then smiled again. “Will you pretend you haven’t learned every bit of gossip about the men? Come. Tell me who you have your eye on, as if I couldn’t guess already.”

There was no mistaking the angel. Out of his armor, he worse a simple tunic of pale blue and white with silver embroidery that contrasted the bright, showy colors of the rest. He stood a little taller than most of the other knights, and she could see how his face beamed, radiant, as if he had stolen the stars and hidden them in his eyes.

Crowley berated herself for such foolish thoughts. It came from spending all her time surrounded by the ladies-in-waiting, but oh, it had been too long.

“…and though we found no sign of the Grail, your highness, I still feel the quest was a great success,” he was saying to some well-dressed human that was probably the king. “The people of Elmet were much heartened by your words and the relief you brought them after the famine.”

“Sir Aziraphale,” the queen chided. “That sounds an awful lot like politics, and you know my rules. The king needs time to recover from his journey.”

Crowley may have noticed Arthur reaching for his wife’s hand, but what expression either wore – or what looks Guinevere gave to the other knights – she missed entirely, because now Aziraphale smiled at her.

“It would appear you’ve gained another lady-in-waiting in my absence,” Aziraphale said, taking Crowley’s hand and bowing over it.

“Yes. Allow me to introduce the Lady Antonia of Crowley.”

“Sir Aziraphale,” Crowley curtseyed deeply. “I have heard much of your deeds.”

“And I believe I know of your family.”

“If it will not distract you from your duties,” she said, with a coquettish glance, “perhaps we can discuss old ties after dinner?”

“I look forward to the conversation.”

It wasn’t much of a conversation, though mouths were heavily involved.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Aziraphale managed, pulling his lips away long enough for a few words. “We agreed it’s too dangerous.”

“Maybe I wanted some danger.” Crowley shoved him against the wall of the castle, just out of sight of the hall where the Knights of Camelot feasted, and pulled kiss after kiss from her angel’s lips while his hands slid around her waist, pulling her closer. “Besides. I’m here on orders. My side thinks the island is getting too peaceful.”

“Too peaceful?” Aziraphale spun her away from the wall, backing her into the cushioned seat of a window. She fell onto the red fabric, and he bent over her, pressing kisses on her face as if to memorize the shape of her nose, her brow, her cheeks. “The kings of this island do nothing but fight!” He managed in between kisses, as Crowley twisted her head, trying to catch his mouth. “It’s all the queen can do to keep them from declaring war on each other every time they sit down to dinner.”

“Mmh.” Crowley pulled Aziraphale into her lap, kissing her way down his jaw and neck, as far as the lacing on the tunic would allow. “Probably why I was sent to ruin their marriage.”

“I don’t want to tell you how to do your job,” Aziraphale began, then paused to do something to Crowley’s neck that left her positively gasping. “But if you’re supposed to be seducing the king, you’re going about it all wrong.”

“Perhaps I need more practice.” She pressed her forehead to Aziraphale’s lightly rubbing their noses together. “I’m certain one of the chambers on this hall has a bed.”

“Nh,” Aziraphale groaned with a smile. “They’re going to expect me back soon. I really did just mean to find out why you’re here.”

Crowley let him stand, and he pulled her to her feet. They stood in the hall, arms wrapped around each other, her chin resting on his head. “I’m supposed to make Guinevere fall for one of the knights. We’re fairly certain without her there to balance the king, Camelot will fall apart in a matter of weeks.”

“Anyone in particular?”

“Well. The lust department had several suggestions. But naturally I arrive and she’s already in love with Lancelot.”

“Can’t blame her. Everyone’s in love with Lancelot.”

“Does that include you?”

“Don’t be jealous.” He brushed her lips lightly, and Crowley pulled him closer, into something much deeper and rougher. When they finally parted, breathless, they settled onto the window seat, side-by-side.

“Listen, you need to let me have this one,” Aziraphale said, twining their fingers together. “Not just because I was here first – though I was – but I really do think this is important. The island becomes more unified every year. People are happy under Arthur. And I think I’ve found the secret to the humans.”

“Not this again…” Crowley objected.

But he lifted her hand, brushing a kiss on every finger, every knuckle. “They don’t listen to us because we’re outsiders. We agree on this yes? But they trust a human leader, a charismatic one. We just find the right leader – like Arthur – and guide him on the right path, and he will ensure the rest follow.” His free hand slid up to cup Crowley’s face. “I have a whole report for Head Office almost complete. I’m certain it will go over well. I just need a few more months.”

“Oh, Angel.” She turned her head, kissing his palm. “I told you before. Nothing we do here matters. They’re already in love, she’s already tempted, and every day Arthur spends building his kingdom drives them further apart. It’s only a matter of time.” She leaned against his hand, searching his earnest eyes. “Let’s just enjoy this one. You and me, together, like…like humans…” It was strangely difficult to say.

“We can,” he said, hardly seeming to notice the pain she was in. “Once my report is ready, we can do – whatever game you like.” He pressed a kiss to the sigil on the side of her face. “There’s a lovely glade in the woods…I’d like to take you there next summer.”

Summer was far away. Already the queen received letters from her husband’s best knight, and the messengers carried notes back. But Guinevere knew what was at stake. “I think I can buy you a little time,” Crowley said.

Aziraphale smiled so brilliantly, her heart almost stopped beating. After nearly five thousand years, he still had hope, still believed he could make a difference. Sometimes, he even had Crowley believing again, thinking she belonged, a part of the world, someone who moved through it, helped to shape it, not just an outsider hammering around the edges, trying to make any impression.

It would hurt, later, when Aziraphale was proven wrong yet again. It would hurt them both. But now, in this moment, they had hope. And she loved him for it.

Crowley stood with a gasp.

“Crowley? My dear, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I – nothing.” She stepped away, finding another window to gaze out across the rolling fields of Camelot.

Aziraphale stepped up behind her, wrapping his hands around her waist, pulling her back into the curve of his stomach, enveloping her in his warmth. She tried not to let him see her expression.

She loved Aziraphale.

That was wrong. That wasn’t the Arrangement they had.

They coordinated jobs to avoid pointless conflict. They came up with clever lies for Head Office when half their assignments inevitably failed. They alerted each other to deeds the other could take credit for.

And, when they could, they distracted each other in the most pleasant ways possible.

They were not supposed to be in love.

--

London – 1601

“To be or not to be, that is the question…”

“Literature!” Aziraphale hissed happily, clutching at Crowley’s arm. He had that smile again, the one that always said he’d figured it out “Why didn’t I think of it before? It’s so obvious!”

Crowley looked fixedly at the stage, where the actor struggled to deliver his lines to an empty theater. Burbage was good, Shakespeare’s lines were clever (not that Crowley would admit either out loud), but still no one came to see the play.

“Pretty sure you’ve tried doing plays before. Remember what happened to Socrates?”

“It’s not the same!” He smiled at the stage, eating another grape. Crowley watched that smile through dark glasses, already bracing himself for what would come later. “For one thing, that was a complete accident. I had no idea comedy could be so cruel. For another, I wasn’t trying to manipulate anything, it just happened. But it worked!”

“Worked? It got a man executed!” Crowley circled behind Aziraphale, leaning close to whisper. “Besides, your side has had a stranglehold on literature for centuries. What gets copied, what doesn’t, thousands of sermons and treatises and bad poems.” He clenched his fist. “They’re just – so – boring!”

Up on stage, Burbage hesitated, shooting a glare towards Shakespeare that clearly said I told you so.

“Not you!” Aziraphale waved to the stage. “We were talking about a different play! This one is very not-boring!”

“It’s a little boring,” Crowley started, but Aziraphale scowled at him. “Fine. Yes. You’re very clever. Slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. Good rhythm. Bravo.”

Shakespeare waved to his actor, and Burbage stepped to the center of the stage again. “To be, or not to be…”

“Oh, now he’s starting over,” Crowley groaned.

“Look, I have a plan,” Aziraphale tried again. “Popular literature. Comedies, love poems, things people enjoy hearing. We find the writers who are already very good, then just encourage a few new ideas into their stories. Use them as examples. Get people really talking about philosophy and morality.”

Already Crowley was shaking his head. “No, Angel. Besides, what’s so bloody good about this play? He just stands around talking about doing things, and never does anything!”

“Proof of concept. Besides, I happen to like it. Look, I’ll do some of the funny ones you like, too. All I do is get him to slip in a few particularly memorable lines, ensure the play’s success, and once all of London is talking about it, I can bring it to Gabriel and – and –”

“And what? Really?” Crowley circled again, to stand in front of Aziraphale, blocking the stage entirely. “You think humans don’t know how morality is supposed to work? Your lot have been feeding them rules for millennia. Nothing you can tell them now is new. It won’t change anything. Look.” He took Aziraphale’s hand in both of his, running his thumbs across the soft knuckles, feeling the way the angel’s fingers curled with a protectiveness Crowley didn’t deserve. Even after sixteen centuries, it could still make him shiver. “We’ve both got jobs in Edinburgh coming up. Forget all this. Let’s go north together, make a holiday of it. The giant monster can make an appearance at that lake you like, and then we’ll have it all to ourselves for a few days…”

Aziraphale’s eyes half-closed, and for a second, he leaned towards Crowley. Then he stepped away, quickly eating another grape. “Not where people can see us. We need to be more careful.”

“No one cares.” Crowley circled behind him, resting a hand on his lower back, feeling Aziraphale’s own shivers. “What do you say? You, me, a little journey north?”

“Crowley…I really think I have something here.” The demon groaned and stepped away, knowing what was about to come. “Look, if you could just – just cover my blessings for me while I get everything sorted out, I’m sure I can have a report ready in no time.”

“Angel, not again.”

But Aziraphale was looking at him with that mix of hope and pleading in his eyes, and it made Crowley’s heart melt all over again. He couldn’t say no. He could never, ever say no.

“Fine. Just promise me, when it all falls apart, this time you’ll do something for yourself. Take a rest. Enjoy life.”

“If you like, but it doesn’t matter.” Aziraphale smiled, like the sun emerging at the end of a storm. “This time it will work. You’ll see.”

--

Paris – 1793

“Animals don’t kill each other with clever machines, Angel. Only humans do that.”

“Crowley!” The angel leapt to his feet, turning with a smile that made Crowley nearly discorporate. Then he frowned. “Good lord. Is that what you wear to rescue me?”

“Sorry, left all my dashing hero outfits back in London.” He lurched upright and made to leave. “Maybe I should go get one. You mind waiting here a couple of days?”

“Don’t you – Crowley!” He looked back to find Aziraphale sinking back onto his seat. “Oh, you were right. It all fell apart.”

“I know, Angel. I read Paradise Lost. Pretty sure that’s not what you had in mind.” He settled onto the bench and took Aziraphale’s manacled hand in his. “What happened? Last time we spoke, you said it was all going well.”

“Well, I lied. It’s been a disaster from beginning to end.” He stared at the dripping walls of his cell. “I don’t understand. Look at – look at the Courtly Love poetry. The tales of chivalry. The same ideals over and over and people love them, follow them, emulate them.”

“Been a lot written about what your side has to say, too.”

“I know. But people don’t – they don’t love it, not the same way.” He lowered his voice. “Did you read those – those Puritanical treatises? It was like being lectured by Gabriel through a book, as unlikely as that sounds. And half the things they talked about are completely irrelevant! The humans always wind up more concerned with their own ideas and forget about the really important things.”

“So, why did you think it would be any different this time?”

“I don’t know! New contexts, new media. People were excited about literature as they hadn’t been for so long. It could be a fresh start for our message. Only when I pitched the idea to Gabriel, all he heard was the word new and next thing I know we’re organizing new translations of the same texts.”

“That explains the King James Bible.” Crowley had taken some joy in convincing Hell that the latest translation counted as a point for their side.

Aziraphale squeezed Crowley’s hand. “Then I tried suggesting some ideas to writers, personally, in dreams or at bars or all sorts of ways. But they all just took them in the wrong way entirely.”

“That explains Paradise Lost.” He’d enjoyed parts of that one.

“Yes. And I finally succeeded in getting some intellectuals to discuss morality, philosophy, science, all those big questions. And in the end, they pulled all our ideas to pieces and rebuilt them into something entirely different.”

“That explains the Enlightenment.” Crowley couldn’t help smiling at that. He loved when humans questioned things.

“And all that led to this.” Aziraphale waved manacled arms around the filthy cell. “A revolution and a hundred executions a day. All because I just…wanted people to talk about right and wrong.” He sighed. “So yes. You were right. Nothing we do makes any difference.”

But you tried, Crowley wanted to say. It’s been so long since I could bring myself to try. And you accomplished so much, even if it’s not what you wanted. You were brilliant. I love you.

He didn’t say that, though. There were some things a demon could never say.

But he had other words instead.

“Angel. What did I make you promise, two hundred years ago, when all this started?”

“That I would make Much Ado as popular as Hamlet. I really did try –”

“No, not that.” He stood up and pulled on the chain that bound the angel. “You promised if it all fell apart –” he tugged again, and Aziraphale stumbled to his feet – “you’d take a break from all this –” one more pull brought Aziraphale against him – “And do something for yourself.”

“Well. I suppose I did.” A little smile appeared on the angel’s face, as his hands started tugging on Crowley’s lapels.

“And it would be horrible – shameful – an unbelievable scandal if an angel were to go back on his word.” Crowley looped his hands around Aziraphale’s waist, pulling himself into that softness.

“Hmmmm,” Aziraphale rested his cheek against Crowley’s shoulder. “I thought we might get crepes.”

“It’s a start.” Crowley pressed a line of kisses across his jaw and down his neck, stopped too soon by the enormous cravat.

“And…see where the night goes?”

Crowley ran his fingers up Aziraphale’s spine, feeling those shivers once again. “I have some thoughts on that, too,” he promised, purring in his angel’s ear. “But after that?”

Aziraphale hesitated. “More crepes in the morning?”

“If you like,” Crowley laughed, “but not what I had in mind. Come on. You always have so many ideas for Heaven. Big elaborate plans. You must have one for yourself.”

“No I – I – it would be quite impossible.” He pushed away just a little.

“Yeah, probably, but that doesn’t usually stop you.” Crowley cupped Aziraphale’s face in his hands. He wanted to see that glow again, the look of hope. “Whatever it is, I can help.”

“I…there was one idea…I thought I might…open a bookshop.”

It took an effort not to frown at that. “A bookshop?”

“Yes! You know. Big leather-bound ones. Novels. Poetry. Even old journals. I could collect them, and repair them…”

“Sell them to customers?”

“Oh.” Aziraphale’s face fell a little. “I suppose…in the right circumstances. But I would also know all the latest books, and I could talk about the ideas in them. Maybe even get a cat.” He sighed. “I know it sounds foolish, but…I imagine it, in the heart of London, closing up early to go to the theater, or spend the night in with my collection and a bottle of wine…”

Yes, there it was. That smile. The one that made Crowley fall in love again every time. “And what are you going to call this business venture?”

“A.Z. Fell & Co. Just need to decide what the letters stand for.”

Crowley nodded. “And the Co?”

“Just a formality really.” His manacled hands found Crowley’s lapels again, smoothing them. “Unless, you know, someone was interested in being my partner?”

Crowley’s jaw hung open, trying to find the words, but it was too much. His heart raced until he thought it would burst. “You. You want me…?”

“Well. Gabriel would just make a mess of things.”

“But. Dangerous.”

“We’d have to be careful, but, well, we’re both very clever. Surely we could –”

The rest was cut off by Crowley’s lips, and by the sound of chains tumbling to the floor.

--

The next morning, Crowley sat on the right side of the bed, watching his angel dream.

He lay back across, to kiss Aziraphale’s cheek, then his bare shoulder. A smile grew across the sleeping face. “Cowey?” he mumbled.

“Shhh. Stay here. I’ve got some things to take care of first. I’ll see you in London. In our bookshop.”

Aziraphale waited for over two hundred years.

--

August 2008

The door to Aziraphale’s bookshop burst open with the sort of force usually associated with riots, attempted robberies, and visits from school groups. He turned from the customer he had been slightly-less-than-gently dissuading from purchasing a copy of Oliver Twist. It was one of the cheap paperbacks he kept around for persistent customers, but policy is policy.

A quick glance to the door to see who the troublemaker was.

A longer glance to take in the tall, dark being with the long red hair and the black glasses hiding any hint of his expression.

He pulled the book from the customer’s hand. “Everyone, please leave. We are closed.”

“But the sign said—”

“Everyone. Leave. We are closed.”

The three human customers shuffled their way out the door, past the impatient demon. Aziraphale took a deep breath before looking him in the eye – or at least the black lenses. “That includes you,” he said, voice as calm as he could make it.

“I – listen, we need to talk—”

“Oh.” Aziraphale took a step closer, watching the way Crowley twisted and squirmed. His clothing was ridiculous, trousers so tight he could hardly walk. He’d managed to cram a few fingers into the pockets, but they didn’t seem to be deep enough. “Now you want to talk?”

“Yeah, look, I’m sorry, Angel, I really am, but this is –”

“You said you would see me in London.”

“It’s…yeah, we’re in London—”

“Two hundred and fifteen years, Crowley!” Even though they’d been designed to absorb sound, Aziraphale’s shout echoed off the walls of the shop. “I have been waiting to hear from you for two centuries!”

“I…I had…”

“Oh, you had things to take care of?” Aziraphale stepped closer, jabbing a finger at him. “You could have contacted me!”

“It wasn’t safe!”

“Wasn’t safe? Since when do you worry about it being safe? You just waltz right in and introduce your newest alias, every time.”

“Angel—”

“Don’t you Angel me!” He shut his eyes and turned away. This isn’t how he’d wanted this to go. Don’t argue. It isn’t worth arguing. Just say your bit and send him away. “Crowley. In the last two hundred years, I’ve taken a…a lot of time to think about our…Arrangement. Things had gone rather too far.” He nodded, turning back. “Perhaps this separation was a blessing. In the future we should avoid—”

“Aziraphale, listen to me!” For the first time in so long, he felt those hands on his arms again, clutching him through the fabric. “Never mind any of that, this is important!”

It was an effort to catch his breath. “Let go of me, now.”

Crowley stepped back, holding up his hands, but the urgency hadn’t left his voice. “Hell has kickstarted Armageddon. It’s the end of the world.”

Aziraphale pressed his lips together. So it’s true. Plenty of humans had calculated the final date, and all of them had been wrong. He had hoped that Heaven’s information would also be incorrect. “Gabriel told me as much the other day. I’m meant to find out what I can and report back.” He cleared his throat, looking around at his shop, at his prized first editions, his music collection, the little row of silver snuff boxes by the window.

Six thousand years, and this was all he really had to show for it.

“I don’t suppose you know how long we have left?” he asked, trying to keep his voice even.

“About eleven years. The Antichrist has been delivered. I don’t know who they sent. I don’t exactly have a lot of fans downstairs just now but – but we still have time. We can track him down—”

“And do what? As you’re so fond of reminding me, nothing we do matters. Nothing I try makes any difference.” Aziraphale walked over to the desk where he kept his favorite first editions. Perhaps he could petition to have one or two added to the Library of Heaven, if they met the subject matter approval. Persuasion, at least, had served him well for many years.

“But we have to try.” Crowley danced around the edge of his vision. “You always say that. We have to try.”

“No, we don’t. There’s really no point. We can either try to avoid the inevitable, or we can prepare ourselves for it.” He wandered over to his music collection. Eleven years was probably enough time to learn to like one or two of Elgar’s works. Not enough time for The Sound of Music.

“Angel, please.” Crowley’s hand found that spot at the small of his back, the one that always made him shiver with delight. Oh, it really had been too long. “Don’t give up. Not yet. I can’t do this alone.”

“Just tell me this.” Aziraphale stared directly ahead, not looking at anything at all. “How long have you been in London? Months? Years? Decades?”

“Angel—”

“I saw the shape of the M25. Did you think I wouldn’t recognize a sigil?”

The hand pulled away, leaving him cold and alone. It was all the answer Aziraphale needed. “You should go now.”

He waited until the door clicked shut before sinking into his chair.

Then he searched his desk for a fresh piece of paper, and began to write his next report for Gabriel.

--

July 2019

Crowley pressed his mobile to his ear, leaning against the side of his Bentley. He heard a ring – another ring – a third –

“I’m sorry to say we are quite definitely closed. My regular hours are suspended, due to—”

“It’s me.”

A pause.

“How did you get this number?”

“What – Aziraphale, it’s the bookshop number. I got it the same way your customers do, unearthing a three-decade-old phone directory.”

“I thought I’d destroyed all those.”

“Will you listen?” Crowley shifted the mobile to his other ear. “I don’t have much time. I know where the Antichrist is. I know a bit more than that, too – what Hell is planning, where it’s all going to happen.”

A heavy sigh over the line. “If you’re going to say Megiddo, I already know that.”

His heart rose. “Aziraphale – you have been doing research! I knew you wouldn’t just give up. Don’t worry, I’ve got more than that – lots more.” He glanced over his shoulder. “I really – really – shouldn’t have this information, alright? But I think I’ve got a plan. I don’t know if it’ll save the world forever, but…it should buy us some time.”

Silence on the line.

“Aziraphale. I’m…I’m sorry. I really am. All I wanted was for you to be safe and…look…I can tell you more when we meet. I promise, I’m going to make it all up to you, in whatever time we have left.” More silence. “Do you need me to say it? It hurts, but I can—”

“No. Don’t.” Another pause, but this time with the sound of rustling paper in the background. “Just…tell me where to meet you. And when. I need at least a day to make preparations.”

Crowley had to put the mobile down and take a few deep breaths, pulling off his glasses to wipe at his eyes. “Right. Yes. Tomorrow is fine.” He turned a map towards him. “I can’t pick you up, not safe, but I can give you directions. Do you have some way of getting out here?”

--

The next day, Crowley paced beside his Bentley, waiting for the angel to show up. He was late.

Not late, actually. Technically, he still had several minutes to go. Aziraphale usually preferred to be early, but there could be many reasons he wasn’t able to find the spot. The plan was to meet here and travel the rest of the way together. He’d fill Aziraphale in on the details as they drove.

He thought he’d been clever, choosing the meeting spot, but the only identifying feature on this side road was a tree in the middle of a field. It was entirely possible the angel was ten miles away, waiting next to a completely different tree in an unrelated field and –

With an almost-unheard change of air pressure, Aziraphale was standing to his left.

“Angel,” he breathed out in relief. “You shouldn’t have done that. Anyone could have sensed your arrival. I’ve made a lot of demons very angry.”

“I know,” Aziraphale said, not quite meeting his eyes. That was fine. They would have time. The important thing was, Aziraphale had come. They were together again.

“Get in the car. It’s about ten minutes from here. I’ll tell you everything.”

“Yes. You really should tell us everything, as soon as possible.”

Another change in air pressure.

And Crowley turned to find Gabriel, Michael, Sandalphon and a dozen other angels standing behind him.

“Well done, Aziraphale,” Gabriel said, with a smile that made Crowley’s skin crawl. “Get the chains on him, I want to start interrogation as soon as possible.”

He spun back to Aziraphale, who held a golden chain in his hand. “You – Aziraphale, no.” Those hands reached for him, and Crowley stumbled back, barely able to stand, barely able to breathe around the awful, broken feeling in his gut. “You lied to me!”

“No, I didn’t – you just assumed – Crowley, please. This is for the best.”

“No!” In a flash of light, he was a serpent again, as big as he could manifest, slashing venom-filled fangs at the angels. It wouldn’t destroy them but it would burn, and he could probably get two before they took him down. He struck towards Gabriel, lashed his tail around towards Michael and her troops, and twisted away to the field, hoping for more room to maneuver.

He never made it that far.

Aziraphale leapt onto his back, pinning his face against the ground, as he twisted furiously, trying to escape. The metal chain slipped around his neck like a noose, pulled tight –

And suddenly, Crowley was human-shaped again, lying in the street, with Aziraphale sitting on his back, knees pinning his shoulders, hand pressing his face down into the pavement.

“Angel – please – don’t do this. Don’t do this.”

“Hush, dear. Don’t struggle. This is for the best. It’s for the best.”

[1] Popina – a bar in ancient Rome, usually serving the lower classes, with reputations for being rough

[2] Incitatus – Emperor Caligula’s prize racehorse, which he allegedly made a Senator, and attempted to appoint Consul. His ornate marble stable probably was real; his wife, the mare Penelope, is from Robert Graves’ I, Claudius

[3] This is not an actual battle, but combines details from the Battle of Drepana (249 BC, when Publius Claudius Pulcher threw the sacred chickens in the sea for refusing to eat) and the Battle of Actium (31 BC, when Marc Antony held his position while the winds shifted, until it was quite impossible to slip by Octavian’s forces). Romans were very fond of various forms of fortune telling; one tradition was that if the sacred chickens ate a certain way before battle, it was a good omen, but if they refused to eat, it was ill.

[4] Aristophanes’ The Clouds – a comedy about philosophy, ideas, religion and education. One character is a parody of Socrates, and allegedly the play was used as evidence in his trial that he “corrupted the youth,” leading to his execution

[jq37]

thoughts on this week's ep?

**spoilers for broadway brawl**

***Before we start, I remembered as I was typing this one of the important notes I lost from last week’s recap: Interesting that Christmas seemingly went off without a hitch. I expected Santa to come back into play somehow (like, someone would check on him to make sure Christmas was still on or he’d call them in to help or something) but he hasn’t, at least not yet.***

My guys, my guys, my guys. Was that something or was that something?

I think I am on record as saying that combat is my least favorite part of ttrpgs generally speaking because I’m here for the RP but when a combat episode shines it really freaking shines (see eg: that first combat ep of Bloodkeep where everyone went full Galaxy Brain except for Matt who couldn’t hit a single thing) and this is such a good example. This is easily a top five ep of the season for me, maybe top three so let’s get into it and break down why it was so awesome.

We start right where we left off with Titania and members of her court having come into the theater to beat the tar out of Misty mid-show.

Quick note: At the end of last ep, it was set up so that Misty was thrust on stage right after hearing the mirror was on stage which would place this fight right at the top of Act 2 but at the start of this ep, Brennan seems to indicate that it’s taking place during what would be the closing number. Which would make more sense but imagine you go see a play, the first act is super dope, and then the second act is an insane, minute long fight that’s pretty unconnected to the plot and then a buff, naked, beautiful man tells you the show is over and you should leave. Wild. Anyway.

Pixies with tommy guns in inherently funny.

So one of the things that makes this fight really great is the way it directly ties into the story in a way besides “These bad guys are in our way.” Misty is using this show as a part of her reincarnation spell so if the show is messed up, it fails and she’s on her last life. Brennan has a cool mechanic of making her roll death saves every round at a difficulty lower than her modifier (which is s/t crazy like 11) but that gets harder with damage done to her and performance checks failed by other players who decide to jump on stage. It’s a great way to make the battle feel like it has more personal stakes and it’s my fave original Brennan mechanic since the Family in Flames Sophie’s Choice situation.

(I love that the death save counter is changed for theater comedy/tragedy masks for this. Nice touch.)

Em, Esther, and Wally are also at the fight which is clutch.

Also, Sondheim is specifically here which is an insane detail to add just because.

WILD that no one knows what’s going on with the ritual initially because, as Lou almost does, getting all the civilians out is the smart move and it would COMPLETELY ruin Misty’s plans instantly.

Lou having Kingston take the stairs bc’s he’s 50+ years old and has no time for that nonsense has equal but opposite energy to him doing extra rolls for Fabian to do unnecessary parkour before a simple attack because Fabian’s Like That.

Murph fireblasts the hell out of Titania’s foot soldiers right off the bat from outside of counterspell range which is very cool.

“Give me a performance check for the cockroach.”

“You’re upstaging me bitch?”

Another great thing about this fight is that because of it’s theatrical nature, everyone’s RPing it more than a usual battle ep (or more intensely maybe is what I mean).

Titania hypnotizes Don Confetti and his goons into fighting for her.

“She doesn’t know she’s in a play but she does sing most of her dialogue which is helpful for you.” Titania is just Like That.

Pete drops an erupting earth and drops a sick 37 damage on those same minions Kug got.

I didn’t notice before but yeah, Ally does roll die like a f-ing beyblade champion.

Emily hearing Murph’s low key, offhand comments and cracking up is great.

“Get Sondheim!” (Emily and then Ally: WHAT?!)

Actual living dude Stephen Sondheim being involved in this fight is just so ridiculous and fun and crazy.

We go around to Misty’s turn and she has to beat a 28 (upped from 10) and she fails which feels worse than a normal failed death save somehow.

Lou, in a very good RP move, tells Pete to tell Misty to end the show so she can tell them not to so the group has a valid reason to not evacuate which is a thing they (or at least him and Ricky) would obviously want to do.

Sophie, the madwoman, jumps out of the balcony, grabs a costume, then runs on stage. Emily’s glee at being told that her grabbing the costume will give her advantage is great. She’s always trying to figure out how to make the most of her moves. She is the living embodiment of the concept of method to madness (which is from Hamlet since we’re talking Shakespeare today). 

Ox is constantly dying (Brennan!) but also it’s like, why was he even there before the fight started? I’ve never seen a non-service dog in a theater.

Ricky: Is this part of it?

Oh, forgot to mention that everything that happens on stage is kinda shielded by the Umbral Arcana so everyone watching thinks it’s part of the show, which is a cool plot detail.

Ricky gets fULLY NAKED (Emily, with perfect comic timing: Now do I roll with disadvantage?) and leaps into the fray. He casts Protection from Evil and Good on her which (1) He does by Magic Mike body-rolling on her while he’s naked and considering how much shorter she is that her raises some interesting questions about positioning and (2) is the most clutch use of this spell I’ve seen in a while. It’s a spell I always wanna take as a Paladin because it makes sense character-wise, but I’ve never been able to actually use it because we’re never fighting fiends, fae, or celestial.

Brennan’s dime change change reversal of the critic’s comments on Ricky’s body rolls when Zac re-rolls his 11 makes me glad I never had to face him in a debate team setting.

Ally: What’s Esther’s deal ;)/Brennan: *Esther’s Weapon Stats*

“Your only secret you’ve ever had in your life is that you have a crush on her.”

Wally has a beautiful singing voice and a working knowledge of Midsummer's which is wild.

Lou’s periodic, “My man”’s when Ally/Pete does something cool. He’s very dialed into being Kingston.

Ricky’s aura keeps everyone near him from being charmed and Misty saves everyone else w/ a nat 20 counterspell. Few things in D&D are more satisfying than a well executed counterspell.

Titania trying to get Pete to be her consort or something when he just over the super posh Priya is very funny.

“I mean between me and Sondheim, get Sondheim!”

“DO WE HAVE HOMEWORK TONIGHT?” (“We did have homework.”)

Anyway, Misty has one success now!

Misty tries to use puppet to get Titania to drop her crown and it doesn’t work. Brennan says the crown is Crown of Stars which I looked up and it’s actually a spell, not a physical crown, but I’m assuming he used the mechanical effects of the spell on a physical item.

Brennan doing all these musical/singing bits when he absolutely doesn’t have to. I love it.

I love Ricky and Sophie being the two martial fighting heavy hitters of the group. Like, the two fighters, having the spellcasters’ backs.

I hope the one kung fu fan in the back of the theater never sees another Broadway show again because he’s gonna be so disappointed. 

“I’m just so inspired by that beautiful penis.”

Murph, out of character, verbally acknowledging how insane what they’re doing is. I love when someone pauses in a game of D&D to just recite what’s currently happening out of context so everyone can appreciate how crazy it is. D&D. Gotta love it..

Emily and Siobhan have a quick conversation in the background about whether Sondheim did Les Mis or not (not, that’s Claude-Michel Schönberg) while Brennan and Murph are Ring nonsense.

I also was mildly suspicious of Alyssa so I’m glad Kingston checked her out.

The entire roast of Brennan when he’s selecting D6s is an instantly iconic D20 moment. I can’t do it justice. You kinda just have to see it.

“Someone call Wizards of the Coast!”

Em, Wally, and Alyssa go out when Titania puts out a huge spell that blinds Kug.

“Yummy, yummy, tastes like ass.”

On Misty’s next turn, she rolls a fail which makes it 2 failures to 1 success. Brennan mentions that a nat 1 counts as 2 failures and a nat 20 counts as 2 successes. I’m sure that won’t be relevant later because you can’t foreshadow things when dice rolls are completely random.

Misty fails on puppet again again and Titania goes full Wicked Witch of the West on her and starts Jonesing for those shoessss.

Emily’s Emily(tm) move of the session is doing a flying leap at Titania, hitting her with a stunning strike and having Brennan retract the Box off Doom he was pulling out because she can’t save when she’s stunned. She just plummets out of the sky.

Don Confetti respecting the sacrament of marriage as he goes full Opera ghost and tries to garrote Sophie.

Ricky (still naked) grabs the crown from Titania, tosses it to Misty, and, with some improv and a good charisma roll, makes the show suddenly make sense to the very confused but entertained audience.

I’m so glad that Murph decided to turn into a bear and that they made the Winter’s tale ref. I should have had faith in Brennan and Siobhan, the theater nerds. Exit pursued by a bear y’all.

Lou and Emily bonding over being proud of their die for rolling well when they lend it out for a big roll.

Really wish Pete had wild magic surged in this fight. Just to add that extra bit of chaos. 

With a very good turn (no damage taken, no performances failed) Misty only has to avoid snake eyes to get through this turn. She leapfrogs over that low bar and rolls a nat 20, instantly fulfilling her win condition. At this point, the play is superfluous and Titania is still down.

“Brennan lost and now he knows reddit is gonna eat his ass.”

OK, remember how I said earlier that Misty seems like the kind of character you nudge a little temptation at just to spice things up? Yeah, her killing Titania and getting the crown of the Seelie Fae makes me a liiiitle apprehensive, but we’ll see how that turns out.

“I killed my queen! This is America we don’t have royalty here.”

“Bear, I don’t know who you are, but take me on your back, let me ride on stage.” —creator of West Side Story, Stephen Sondheim

Misty charms the critic at the show to make sure they get a good review which is such a fae thing to do.

Kingston’s clearly not loving attacking Don and Co. post “real fight” what with his whole Do No Harm thing (well, that’s Dr’s but same principle applies I assume) is a good character detail. For that matter, so is Ricky just taking Titania’s crown and not beheading her which he super could have done while she was down but it would have been very incongruous with everything else about him.

Brian “This isn’t Loony Tunes” Murphy throws Sondheim as a projectile weapon at a pixie who snaps the pixie’s neck and then does a monologue at the audience.

I love it when someone rolls low on an insight check and Brennan gives them useless info and then they repeat it in their character’s voice.

4 mins from the end of the ep, Siobhan realizes there are two Perrys in this story for the first time and has a bigger reaction to that than almost everything else in this ep except her nat 20.

Ricky looks for costume faun legs to cover his fully out dick instead of costume pants or even his own pants.

Misty starts glowing with reincarnation energy and she runs into her dressing room for privacy. Also, she still super hasn’t told anyone what’s going on. (ALSO, assuming she’s gonna make the world think she died, it’s gonna be wild for the company of the show to have their leading lady put on the performance of her life and then die on opening night).

“Who am I to refuse a crown when it’s placed so deftly upon my head?”

You know that behind the scenes thing where Brennan is like, “Yeah, I knew Siobhan was gonna steal that book,”? I got some of those vibes during the crown scene.

The implications of what Misty did are gonna be left until next ep but Brennan says something about her creating her own court and it looks like she’s recruiting followers in the promo. IDK how I feel about that (these stories tend to have great power--especially tied to powerful magical items--as a corrupting force) but I am very excited to see how it goes down! See you then!

[ascended-icarus]

I Couldn't Feel You || Ineffable Husbands

In which Aziraphale managed to get his body back before the not-pocalypse. 

Crowley POV:

Red. Red and orange flooded my vision as I approached what had been Aziraphale’s shop. No. no, no, nononono… This couldn’t be happening. 

I ran into the flaming shop, ignoring the humans yelling at me that I wasn’t allowed to go in. I had to find Aziraphale. Something felt wrong. I didn’t know what, just… Something. 

I searched around the shop, hardly even aware of what I was screaming. All I knew was that I couldn’t find him. “Aziraphale, you idiot, where ARE you?” I found myself screeching. 

Then, I realized what was wrong. I couldn’t sense him. Throughout history, I could always find him, sense him. But… I couldn’t. Not now. That could only mean one thing. 

“You KILLED MY BEST FRIEND! You BASTARDS!” I felt the words ripping through my body, the truth in them making me feel like I was falling from heaven again. The raw pain, making my soul feel like it was burning. And maybe it was. I couldn’t bring myself to check, or care. 

Aziraphale, my angel, my one true friend, my love… Gone. 

I was sprayed by water from the firetruck, and it shook me out of my sheer pain and disbelief, making me remember my surroundings again. I felt tears on my face and my sunglasses melting. I smelt the smoke, heard the humans shouting, but it all felt muted. None of it mattered. 

All I wanted to do was forget it all. Forget the fast approach of Armageddon. Forget Hastur, Beelzebub, all of them. Forget Aziraphale’s smile, laugh… The way his eyes twinkled whenever I did even a small favor for him. Forget how, the last time I saw him in person, I’d told him that I’d forget about him for good. Forget how he’s gone. 

I found myself in the Bentley, my sunglasses discarded outside on the ground somewhere. I had the book Aziraphale had been reading next to me in the passenger's seat. I was driving, but I wasn’t really conscious of anything around me. Aziraphale would’ve hated that. Especially with the breakneck speed I was going at. A small smile almost slipped onto my face, before I remembered that he was gone. I groaned, picking up the speed. 

Eventually, I got to my destination: a small bar where no one would care about the crying loser in the corner. I grabbed one of my spare pairs of sunglasses, putting them on roughly before walking into the bar. I immediately ordered a whiskey, hoping to drown my sorrows. 

With every drink of the burning whiskey, another memory of Aziraphale flashed through my mind. 

“I gave it away!” Gulp.

“Crowley!” The love in his voice, the excitement in his eyes… Gulp. 

“I got peckish…” Gulp.

“Get thee behind me, foul fiend. Oh, after you!” Gulp.

“Oh, thank you!” His smile when I miracled away the paint stain. Gulp.

The hurt in his eyes when I lost my temper, told him that I’d leave and forget him. I never could, even if I tried. Double gulp. 

Millions of tiny moments from throughout the time we’d known each other flashed before my eyes. How could She let this happen? He was the best angel of them all, the only one who really deserved his wings. How could She just let him… Die? It felt like a crime against the universe, the brightest thing in it just being gone. 

I took another long drink from my… Sixth? (Maybe tenth? I didn’t know anymore.) glass of whiskey and opened my eyes. 

Wow, I must be WASTED. I dimly thought, blinking hard and taking off my sunglasses. I was hallucinating, surely. The only issue? When I opened my eyes again, he was still there. 

“No, no… ‘Ziraphale’s gone, I gotta accept that…” I mumbled, taking another long sip from my whiskey and ignoring the steady stream of tears that flowed out of my eyes. 

The hallucination looked… Sad? And worried. “Crowley, my dear boy, are you alright?” It said, sounding just like Aziraphale. 

I groaned, downing more alcohol. “Great, now I’m hallucinating his voice, too…” I sighed, gazing at the Aziraphale look-alike. 

“No, Crowley, I swear I’m me, dear, I promise.” He looked so pleading. I looked into his eyes and my own eyes widened. He was… Crying. Why was he crying? Was it my fault?

“I want to believe you, but… I don’t know what I’d do if I had to lose you again, if you weren’t real…” I choked out, sobs beginning to wrack my body. “You’re probably gonna disappear any minute, and I’d deserve it, because I’m-” 

I was cut off by a warm, soft hug. Angel. It really was him. I quickly reciprocated the hug, sobbing into his shoulder. “Shh, it’s all alright, dear… I’m so sorry that you had to go through this, but it’ll all be better now, I’m here and I don’t plan on leaving you. Ever, if I can help it.”

I just pulled him tighter. It was all I could do. I heard him sniffling as well, and I pulled back to wipe away his tears. “Satan, angel… I thought you were gone. I couldn’t sense you! Your shop… It b-burned down, you were gone, I just- I didn’t know what to do anymore.” I bit my lip, trying to hold back the sobs that were trying to resurface. Aziraphale lifted his hand to my cheek, thumb wiping away the tears there. I felt someone’s power, whether it was mine or his, I wasn’t sure, sobering me up. 

Aziraphale gave me a sad smile. “You’re not off to Alpha Centauri, then?” He asked, hand still on my cheek, his bright blue eyes looking into my own. 

I looked to my lap. “I, er… No. Decided against it.” I cleared my throat. “I lost my best friend…” I whispered. 

I was wrapped in another hug, but this time I wasn’t crying. I was simply soaking up the touch of him, someone I’d thought I’d never see again, much less receive a hug from. 

“Angel, I’m… I’m sorry. The last time I saw you, I got all defensive, and I said things I didn’t mean. When I thought that had been the last time I’d ever see you, I just- I felt so horrible. I thought your last impression of me would be that I hate you, and I don’t. By, er, any stretch of the imagination.” I spoke into his shoulder, breathing in deeply and enjoying his scent of vanilla, tea, and old books. 

Aziraphale gave me a squeeze. “It’s quite alright, Dear. I swear, I never assumed you hated me. If anything, I should apologize for worrying you so. You’re crying because of me. I’m so sorry, dear.” 

I sniffled. “I mean, it’s not your fault I assumed you’d discorporated. I jump to conclusions easil-”

He cut me off. “Oh, well, I’m afraid I had discorporated, but as I was arguing with the other angels, yelling at them to let me back down, I was blinded by a flash of white light and I was outside of here, with my body back. I do believe it was God Herself.” (Bc God ships it ok)

I sat silently, taking it in. He had died. But he was here now. I hugged him tighter, taking in a shaky breath. “I’m, uh, glad you’re back, regardless. And… I’m glad God’s not mad at me for internally cursing her for letting you, uh… Yeah.” I released him from the hug, giving him an embarrassed smile. 

He gave me a soft smile. “Of course you did, dear.” He said, and the level of softness in his voice surprised me. He said it like I was something special, like he expected it from me and it was a part of me that he found endearing. 

I found myself smiling at him, not speaking, just enjoying the sight of him. We sat like that for a while, before he spoke up.

“Crowley? I, er, have something to tell you.” He said. “I realized it a while ago, but I haven’t told you.”

I nodded. “You can tell me anything, angel.” I said, feeling curious.

He took in a deep breath before saying the four words I never thought I’d hear him say. “I… I love you, Crowley. I have for… A long time, I think. I never want to leave you again, because I love you too much to see you hurt like this.” 

I felt my mouth drop open, and my heart seemed to stop. “Y...You do?” I asked, not believing my ears.

He nodded, meeting my gaze dead-on. 

A smile grew on my face, and I laughed giddily, hardly able to believe it. “Oh my Sa-Go- Someone! I love you too, so much.” I said, happy tears gathering in my eyes.

His eyes lit up, and he rushed forward, pressing a kiss to my lips. I was shocked for a second before kissing back, feeling myself melt into him. This was really happening. I was kissing the love of my near-immortal life, and he’d said he loves me. 

We pulled back and I smiled. “Thank you.” 

He looked confused. “For what, my dearest?” 

“For, uh… Coming back? Loving me? Not hating me? Being you? Everything.” I decided, smiling contentedly. 

He smiled, pecking the tip of my nose and taking my hand. We sat there for a while, just being happy to be in each other’s company, when suddenly Aziraphale sat straight up. “The apocalypse! We, er… The book!”

I stared at him. “Which book?” 

“The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Ag-” He started.

“AGNES NUTTER? The book’s in my car!” I said, getting excited. 

He smiled, standing. “Well, then, come on, we’ve got to go to Tadfield!” 

I nodded, standing as well. “Let’s go then, Angel.”

He took my hand and we walked out of the bar and to my car. We were going to stop the world from ending. 

For the world, for our lives, and for each other.

Whatever we’d face, we’d face it together. 

Hand in hand.

[spacefuneral]

rules: tag 15 people you want to know better

I was tagged by @marshcrone​ (,: thank uuuuu~

Relationship status: not 2 be gay but i luv my girlf

Favorite colors: uhhh purple, mint green, soft pink, like... tangerine orange

Lipstick or chapstick: chapstick i Guess

Favorite food: uhhh hmmm i feel my favorite Meal is beef roast w/ mashed potatoes and broccoli, but it’s probably pork bc I’m a pork fiend and will eat it without anything else. Eggs and pasta are also good options.

Song stuck in my head: Rawnald Gregory Erickson the Second by STRFKR. My art professor is a cutie and plays a looot of music I like, and she was playing STRFKR the other day.

Last movie i watched: LOL I THINK IT WAS SLENDER MAN THAT’S TRAGIC

Top 3 tv shows: uhh i don’t watch a lot of tv but uh. I like Stranger Things, Adventure Time, Bob’s Burgers, Chopped, Great British Bake Off... I like Letterkenny even if I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone I know? Over The Garden Wall is another and I recommend it to Everyone. Uhhh. Idk. Idk what would be my fave either. Maybe Adventure Time?

Books i’m currently reading: I ordered The Secret History and I’m waiting on it. I started Great Expectations but it made me sad for personal reasons, but it’s pretty delightful. I’m supposed to be reading The Odyssey but fuck that.

Last thing i googled: lmao... “degrees of murder” because i was wondering why Robert Pickton was considered a second degree murderer. Before that, I had googled “Steel Magnolias Armadillo Cake.” lMao.....

Time: 12:07 AM

How many blankets do you sleep in: one!

Dream trip: I actually don’t really have much of a wanderlust, which tends to surprise people. I do really want to visit Oregon and Washington, though! I want to see........ Big.......... Tree......

Anything you really want: clear skin

Age: 23, turning 24 in October~

Birthplace: Maine

Drink you had last: coked cola

Easiest person to talk to: Like, in my life? I can talk to my girlfriend about literally everything and always have, she is A Blessing. My friend group is also extremely easy to talk to because we’ve been friends for like practically a decade almost, but I feel bad when I joke about my abuse because it’s really only funny to me and probably Vi because we can laugh about those things together. Sometimes You Gotta Laugh 2 Cope.

Favorite song: I feel like it’s technically Head Over Heels by Tears For Fears. I tend to have current favorites, though, and mine is definitely Nobody by Mitski rn.

Grossest memory: Well. Like. In a funny sense? It was probably when Leigh and I made a trash smoothie out of everything liquid in their fridge and then took turns sipping it. I spat it out as soon at it touched my tongue.

Or maybe the time Vi and I found her mom’s potatoes rotting in the cupboard, which was soaked with a weird liquid coming from them, and it smelled like rotten fish.

Hogwarts house: Slytherin

In love?: yah duh

Jealous of people?: not really

Killed someone?: imagine casually mentioning you killed someone in a survey thing like this

Love at first sight or walk by again?: nobody says it like that but uh. i don’t know shit, dude. i think emotions are more complicated than that, but what do i know?

Middle name: fish

Number of siblings: two

One wish: tuition money

Person you last called: the bank i think?

Questions you’re asked the most: um i can’t think of this off the top of my head but i get “you like cats?” a lot because im always covered in cat related shit

Reasons to smile: i’m tired so i can’t be cute and creative, but i’d say my stupid cats are a fantastic reason. My brother sent me a message telling me his favorite Animal Crossing song unprompted today. Bergs @’s me in so many things that I lose track of it--and when I check the group blog, I find 23423 cat things Vann reblogged. Vi and I have so many inside jokes at this point that I feel like we don’t even say them out loud half the time anymore. Just, something happens that reminds us and we exchange a look and laugh. Also, the fact that my friends trust me and come to me about their personal issues is very touching and I’m happy I can be that person.

Song you last sang: lmfao Vi and I sang parts of Motion City Soundtrack’s The Future Freaks Me Out to each other in the car and I hella overcompensated for how high he says “betty won’t stop listening to modern rock”

Time you woke up: Ummmm. I woke up at 5 AM and couldn’t sleep but I officially got out of bed at 7:30 AM. Then I fell asleep again when I got home for, like, 8 hours, because I’m kinda sick lately.

Vacation destination: I like visiting my family in Maine. It’s a really lovely place and my heart is buried there for all eternity.

Zodiac sign: Libra!

Worst habit: mmmmmm............... humble 2 a fault. Or, maybe, uh. Perfectionist? I’m never really happy with anything I do.

Tagging: @i-say-spooky-you-say-scary @daaraen @wubby-desu @webkitten @estrangedlabor i just noticed it says 15 people wtf i don’t even know -2 people

also, if you wanna do this, i can tag you~

[duhragonball]

Sorry about all the weird asks you been getting, Here is an actual question: What do you think of Bray Wyatt's current fiend character?

Technically, this should be addressed on the wrestling blog, but I get them mixed up myself all the time, and let’s be real: duhragonball > buttdawg >>> imatlasarrestmeplease.  

In any case, I don’t have strong opinions about The Fiend, because I stopped watching WWE in October 2018, before The Fiend’s debut.   I think I have a general idea of what the character is supposed to be, but it’s probably not fair to judge it on hearsay.    So take this with a few hundred grains of salt.  

From what I understand, Bray Wyatt sort of dropped off the map for a while, then returned at... was it Summerslam ‘19?   I think it was.    He came back as the Fiend, who’s sort of like when Mick Foley switches from Mankind to Cactus Jack, only in this case The Fiend no-sells everything and he’s super strong.    Also, the Bray persona has become like this Mr. Rogers pastiche, and may not fully understand the Fiend’s actions.   

I have no idea how this Firefly Funhouse thing works.  I watched a pirated video of the John Cena “match” at WrestleMania 36, mostly because I wanted to understand what nWo Cena was supposed to be about.    I still have no idea, but I’m a huge nWo mark, so I was satisfied to see John rocking the black-and-white, even if it makes no sense.   

Actually, let me talk about nWo Cena for a minute here, because that’s been on my mind for a while, and I think it does sort of tie into Bray’s WWE career.   Okay, so for anyone who doesn’t know what I’m talking about, Cena and Bray had a match at WrestleMania 36 which was like some sort of Twilight Zone thing where Cena kept quantum leaping into different eras of wrestling history.   He found himself in the Hulkamania era, then he relived his own debut in 2002, and for some reason he was on the set of WCW Monday Nitro, circa 1997.   There, he was wearing an nWo shirt, indicating that he was supposed to be a member of the legendary heel stable, the New World Order.   

What struck my fancy about this was that I saw John wearing the shirt and for a moment I imagined how cool it would have been if Cena really had been part of the nWo.   The group had this amazing start in the summer of 1996, but by 1997 it was running on fumes, and in 1998 they had absolutely no idea what to do with it.    After that, they just kept breaking up and reuniting over and over, trying to recapture the old magic.   There were a lot of problems with the nWo, but I think the biggest one is that there was no clear identity of the group.   Somtimes it was a bunch of cool dudes having a violent party, and other times it was Hulk Hogan’s personal cult.  Other times it was just Hall and Nash wearing matching shirts.    It didn’t matter in the early years, but when the group got older and the older members moved on, there was nothing to define what was left.   

I’ve only been watching New Japan for about a year, but I’m already impressed with how Bullet Club has managed to avoid the same problem.   Let’s face it, they’re a baldface ripoff of the nWo concept, but they have defining characteristics that don’t just rely on a specific person.   Prince Devitt (Finn Balor) was a founding member, but he’s been gone for years.   Then AJ Styles was their #1 guy, and he left.   Then Kenny Omega was their leader, and I showed up a few months after he left.     I thought the BC was doomed to decline after that, but then I saw how dominant their new leader, Jay White could be, and then they replenished their ranks with KENTA.   Generally, Bullet Club is a gaijin stable, so that sets the tone for their act rather than any single person.   If a Canadian leaves, you just get a New Zealander to replace him.   But with the pandemic keeping most of BC out of Japan, they adapted again and brought in EVIL as their new top guy.   It’s impressive to me, because NJPW figured out a way to make the nWo an evergreen angle.   They can sell those T-Shirts for the next fifty years.   

But I still miss the classic nWo, and I liked the idea that in some AU, John Cena might have formed his own nWo revival around 2011 or so, and they could have done it right.    Imagine someone with Cena’s prestige and longevity doing a heel stable like that, and when his time is over, he hands it off to another big star who can carry the torch.  “If only they had John Cena,” I thought to myself.  “He could have righted the ship.   He could have fixed it.”

Which brings me back to Bray Wyatt, because the vibe I get is that Bray’s fans seem more focused on what could be, and what might have been.   Bray’s entire WWE run feels like a running effort to fix Bray’s entire WWE run.   He started as Husky Harris in NXT, then they brought the entire NXT roster out as a new heel stable, the Nexus, and had them run roughshod over WWE, except they were mostly too green for that role, and they kept losing big matches to Cena and Orton.    Then CM Punk took over Nexus and they became his faceless sidekicks, and then they vanished altogether when Punk moved into his Pipebomb era.  

Then Husky came back as Bray Wyatt, and everyone loved the gimmick.   I never cared for it personally, because I never saw much of Waylon Mercy, and I’ve never watched “Cape Fear”.   But people loved it.   But he kept losing the big matches.   Then he comes back as The Fiend, and now he’s like invincible or something, and it seems like he’s finally on track to get the success people wanted him to have before.  

Only, I don’t think it’s worked out that well.   They made him invincible, but they don’t seem to know what to do with that.    This led to that Hell in a Cell where Seth Rollins got “disqualified” in a no-DQ match.    They literally couldn’t decide how to end the match, or who should win, so they just stopped it for no reason.    That’s a long-term WWE problem.    Vince can’t make up his mind, so he just doesn’t put anyone over.    He didn’t want Seth to look weak losing to the Fiend, even though the Fiend is literally a monster, and he didn’t want the Fiend to win the title because he’d eventually have to lose it later.    Except the Fiend did win the title eventually, only to lose it to a 50 year old Goldberg in Saudi Arabia.   So Vince’s efforts to protect the Fiend at HiaC were ultimately pointless.    

I’m not sure where the Fiend character is now, but I think he may have turned face, and Alexa Bliss is his girlfriend?  Sith Apprentice?    I see people saying she’s possessed?   Well, whatever, I like what she’s done with her hair lately.   Every time they revamp Bray, I always hear fans suggest that they’re finally going to have Sister Abagail debut.    No one even knows who or what Sister Abagail is.    She’s just a name Bray used to mention during his creepy promos, and I think Randy Orton desecrated her grave one time.    Wrestling’s pretty great.  

Here’s the thing, I’m 100% in favor of a real, live SIster Abagail character.   I’ve written a 600,000-word novel about a background character in Dragon Ball Z, and at least thirty chapters were devoted to the Shockmaster.    I remember in 1997, when everyone thought Kane was dead, and then he finally showed up and set everything on fire for the next twenty years straight.    I still want to know who the Black Scoprion really was.   If Sister Abagail turns out to be an on-screen character, it’d be amazing.   Maybe Alexa Bliss is supposed to be turning into Abagail somehow.   She needs to dress up more like a ghost, though.   

The problem is that--right now-- there isn’t a Sister Abagail, so until the real thing is introduced, it’s just a hypothetical that everyone can pin their hopes and dreams on.   “Oh once they pull the trigger on Sister Abagail, Bray will finally get the push he deserves!”   “Yeah, that last Fiend match wasn’t so hot, but it’s all building up to the big payoff when they finally bring out Sister Abagail.”   “Sister Abagail will fix it, she can right the ship.”  

What I’m worried about is that one of these years Bray’s going to retire from wrestling, hopefully on his own terms, but his fans will still be waiting for a dream storyline, long after his actual career has passed them by.   I guess there’s problems with his run, mostly systemic problems with WWE’s booking philosophies and indecision, and fans are praying for a miracle to fix it all, like John Cena in an nWo shirt.   And even if they did bring out a Sister Agagail, it would never live up to the fans’ expectations.    It just feels like everyone’s setting themselves up for a disappointment.  

And that’s one of the reasons why I quit watching WWE.   At some point I realized that there just isn’t going to be a light at the end of the tunnel, a big match that somehow makes up for all of the dumb ideas and bad finishes I’ve seen over the years.    I’m all about AEW and NJPW now, and those promotions aren’t always perfect, but they are a lot better about meeting my expectations.  

I guess, when all is said and done, my big opinion on the Fiend is that I hope Bray lets his WWE contract expire and shows up someplace else.  He’s a great talent, no denying that.   I just don’t trust WWE to do right by him creatively. I think they want to push him, but they don’t know how to push guys anymore.   

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

I finished!!! game time was like something like 138 hours but I spent a good dozen or so hours pausing the game to check my phone or wandering off to make dinner. 

I this said last night in a sleepy 4am haze, but I really enjoyed the ending. It was fun to play. The only time I died was when I accidentally fell into a chasm bc I didn’t realize a goddamn fiend was gonna come barreling out of the hall and ruin my “melee everything” scheme and I scooted myself right off a dang platform and respawned directly in its mouth. Whoops. When the Archon called up the Architect I was very Oh god not another one but then I didn’t have to actually try to kill it ever just avoid it, so that was fine. I LOVED how everyone came out to help at the end. It always seems unbelievable to me that your pals are content to hang back for the boss fight (ME2 I thought did well with having everyone else away on different tasks, and the ME3 citadel mission where everyone goes together is one of my favorite parts of the trilogy). And getting to run around with Kandros (who i love but duty calls and we can never be together) and Reyes (im still Very Sad i had to break up with him) and the Salarians!! and then your team coming in at the end :333 ah. It was a very feel-good, exciting culmination, and I think it fit the tone of the rest of the story well. Part of me was half-expecting disaster like you have to sacrifice Scott or a bunch of citizens or something, and while I eat that sort of tragedy up, I’m glad there wasn’t any for this game. 

Incidentally, all of my screenshots of Scott somehow turned out like this, and so I’ve decided this is a chronic problem his whole life and he has 0 good photos ever even when the rest of the fam comes out lookin great:

ah, Scott. someday i’ll play as him with this Ryder as his sister and it’s gonna have to be a wild ride.

Romance: I romanced Vetra!! I love her a lot as a character but I just kept wishing for more content. And I know I always crave more romancey content but I did feel like her romance arc had a lot less than what I knew people were getting from Jaal’s, especially because it takes you over halfway into the game before you get anything from it. Four flirt opportunities where she doesn’t really flirt back, my Ryder was dying and convinced her crush would never be reciprocated (hence the brief fling with Reyes). But I did LOVE the scenes you do finally get with her, the climbing date was soooo sweet, and I could not stop laughing when she tries to make you dinner. I’m never telling my beautiful girlfriend she doesn’t know how to cook steak. NEVER. she did it perfectly, i love cow. But I just wish there was a scene where YOU could do something for HER. Lexi even tells you that you should show her she’s appreciated and doesn’t have to take care of everyone all the time to be worthy of being liked but then you... never get a chance in game to really do that. Sigh. I definitely have a lot of inner-headcanoning going on for thier relationship. Though Vetra wants to eventually settle down and have a home and i’m... not so sure that’s in the cards for this Ryder. I may tweak the characterization of my Vetra-romance-ryder in some ways and redo this Ryder with Reyes for real next time. I think next up is gonna be a Jaal playthough though.

But, OVERWHELMINGLY, the relationship I was absolutely most fascinated by the whole game and spent way more time thinking about than romance, was the relationship between Ryder and SAM. I went into endgame thinking that the game really hadn’t gotten into that aspect nearly as much as I wanted, AND THEN!!! SAM GETS DISCONNECTED! And it’s revealed they took over WAY more control of the Pathfinder’s physiology than anyone had even guessed!! it’s not just “SAM can take access of enough systems to stop and then restart your heart” it was “SAM is so intertwined with you that they are integrated into these systems already and their absence makes it almost impossible for the Pathfinder to cope without.” I LOVED IT. I was so ready to address that, like, did Ryder know? Did SAM do it by choice or was it just an effect of Alec’s modifications? 

And then... nothing. You’re linked back up with SAM. No one questions it. You don’t get to talk to Scott about how SAM is different for you than him now. Or at least, not that I’ve found??? to be fair I can’t seem to find Scott post-endgame yet (where is he hiding???? i’ve been all over Meridian after leaving/going back), and I still need to go check out the colonies and see what people there have to say. But it really seems like everyone sort of was like “whew, glad that’s sorted out, SAM’s back and htis could never possibly be an issue again so we will all forget about it and never bring it up again.” There was one colonist before (Fawkes) who was one of the only non-main characters to ask a really detailed question about SAM/what the future of AI is gonna look like in Heleus and I was so psyched for that convo. There’s a couple dialogue responses you can take, I went with:

becuase I really like the idea that Ryder starts to think of themselves as not just Ryder, but a Ryder-And-SAM partnership. There’s a lot of sacrifice in that. You’re admitting that your body is not just You anymore, but a team where both sides are valued.

I’ve spent a lot of the game thinking about Ryder’s internal dialogues with SAM, and the dynamic it would add to their relationship. You don’t have a voice that lives inside your head (and gives you its 100% undivided attention while you’re in the field) and not end up talking to it all the time. SAM asks you questions back on the Tempest when you talk to them and I bet they would when out and about as well, just privately. There’s a line in one of the Vaults where Ryder starts talking to herself and then catches it--

--because she gets more and more accustomed to not being the only one in her head. SAM is always there. More than that, they always have your back, and are ready to feed you whatever you need to get the mission done. They’re not just a voice, they’re a tool; and they’re not just a tool, they’re a support system. Maybe Ryder knows just how intertwined SAM is becoming with theer body, and isn’t just aware, but welcomes it. The Ryders are a fucked up family who aren’t good at talking to each other, but SAM means you never have to be alone again. Someone is always there for you, protecting and watching out for you. 

So in the final mission, when SAM is ripped away from Ryder--it’s not just a physical effect. It’s like losing a part of your soul and a best friend and a, in some ways, a parent--because SAM learned through Alec Ryder before anyone else--and in other ways, a child--because Ryder is responsible for teaching SAM what it means to be a person and how to navigate the world. And I wish you could convey that emotional distress (even if less complex) in the game, and that Ryder was as worried for SAM’s well being as they are for Scott’s when they race to stop the Archon. Becuase in a lot of ways, I think my Ryder would have grown closer to same than she ever did with her brother.

Anyway, I wish the game hadaddressed these things more, but I also accept that like--this is a trope that I just am REALLY into and have been for ages. It’s not gonna be what everyone wants as the main focus, and it just wasn’t the big story they were trying to tell. At the beginning of the game the descriptions of SAM hyped me up so hard because they reminded me very strongly of my favorite short story, Silently And Very Fast by Catherynne Valente (which, if you haven’t read it, it’s really amazing and you can read the first part here (the other 3 parts are linked at the bottom of each chapter), or I can send a pdf of it if you want, it’s really good people read it please and then tell me about your Emotions). The story veered off not long into the plot of the game (I, along with many others, suspected for a while that SAM would turn out to be like the mother’s consciousness integrated into the AI or something) but I stayed pretty invested in it as a major part of my Ryder’s experience in Heleus. 

And like, I guess this would be something I’ll probably end up doing fic about now since the game didn’t give me as much as I wanted (and I only meant to write a short paragraph about it here and now i have like 9 whoops), so I’ll probably keep thinking about it with the rest of my Ryders. There’s so much potential there. Jade Ryder really grew attached to SAM, but there’s also potential for resentment there--SAM is always watching, Ryder essentially gives up any aspect of privacy in their life, even if SAM is polite enough not to comment on it.

wow this got away from me. anyway. that’s the game!!!!! i’m running around making sure i’ve talked to everyone still. I need to go check up on the colonies and stuff, but I did pretty much everything else before the last mission, so there’s not much to play. Just some assignments that don’t have navpoints. and then start thinking about my next Ryder!!! I played Jade Ryder as pretty logical and professional, with a tendency to open up more with people as she grew to know them better, though she struggled to be open/heartfelt when talking to Angara when her natural conversation style with them flopped hard at first. I think my next Ryder who I still need to name is gonna be way more casual/joke-y (tho i think Ryder is HILARIOUS no matter what, it’s so fun to have such a lighthearted protag) and probably more reckless and prone to following their whims. Gonna have to re-battle the CC though which I’m not so much looking forward to. 

oh also re: the second picture: i FUCKING LOVE that you beat the architect on Elaaden so hard it shoots itself into orbit and slowly decays and you can just sit there and watch it slowly fizzle in the cold vacuum of space