#personally i think he saw an opportunity for him and crowley to be safe and took it

[freddiesflowercrown]

Final Fifteen opinion almost a year after the release of season 2 YAYYYYYYY

Thing is I personally never interpretated aziraphale's "you're the bad guys" as something that meant "you crowley are also a bad guy because you're a demon from hell". I always saw that "you" as a reference to hell. I mean crowley constantly says "your lot" even in s2 to aziraphale when he refers to heaven so i never saw the difference between what crowley does to what aziraphale did in that moment, they were talking about hell and heaven anyway. Also aziraphale and does not believe crowley is a proper bad guy, he believes he is nice. (and why would he take someone he thought was bad to the """good""" place anyway?)

And that also never made the scene less heartbreaking from crowley's POV in my opinion. A conclusion that we come at by the end of season 1 is that both heaven and hell are bad in one way or another with both aziraphale and crowley completely accepting that and that's also one of the reasons they now are on their side. So if aziraphale thinks hell is bad and heaven is good it seems like he's taken a step backwards and somewhat rejects (?) "their" side. So if that made sense i don't think this pov made the words hurt less for crowley or something?

Now whether aziraphale actually means it/rejects their side or not a different discussion 😭

[amuseoffyre]

Here’s the thing about the big fall-out: Crowley and Aziraphale are operating under very very different interpretations of what has just happened in the bookshop.

From Aziraphale’s point of view: Gabriel turned up on his doorstep and told him that something terrible was going to happen to him. He vaguely alluded to things being better if you were just with that one other person. He hummed a love song. Then the dukes of hell and archangels all arrive and the big reveal is that Gabriel and Beelzebub are in love. He doesn’t see Gabriel’s memories or anything that would explain it otherwise.

The archangels/demons tell them “If you leave you can never come back”, which is - based on Aziraphale’s past behaviour and experience and fear of being cast out - would suggest that this the bad thing Gabriel was referring to.

Aziraphale assumes Gabriel is being cast out because he fell in love with a demon.

From Crowley’s point of view: He knows that heaven and hell are hunting for Gabriel and doesn’t know why. He knows that Aziraphale’s life will be in danger from both sides and that’s why he agrees to hide Gabriel, as much as he knows “it’s too late now. It’s always too late”.

And then he goes to Heaven to find out wtf is really happening and discovers that Gabriel not only defied the commands of Heaven and his designated role of Supreme Archangel, but that he was about to be stripped of his memory and authority, pared back to the lowest of Scriveners. Gabriel was about to lose everything because he decided to stand against Heaven’s plans.

Crowley knows that the terrible thing that was about to happen to Gabriel was his demotion and erasure of his memory for defying Heaven’s plans, but he doesn’t have the time to tell Aziraphale because everything is happening all at once in the bookshop.

And this is where the tragedy comes in about their misunderstanding.

Aziraphale’s assumption that a demon and angel being in love and being together means being cast out, alone, exiled to who knows where. So when he’s given the opportunity to guarantee they will be somewhere safe together with the means and position to keep themselves safe, he is absolutely going to take it.

But Crowley never saw the Gabriel/Beelzebub relationship like that. He knew Gabriel was being cut down because he decided to take a stand against heaven. Heaven didn’t know about the Beelzebub relationship. That was a non-entity in Gabriel’s demotion. Crowley knows that if Aziraphale goes back to Heaven, it’s the same Heaven that cast out both him and Lucifer (as well as the legions of the damned) and would have cast down Gabriel if it wouldn’t have been awkward for them. As they said, it’s an institutional problem.

If Crowley had had five minutes alone with Aziraphale to explain what he saw in Heaven and why it really all happened, before the Metatron turned up. But the Metatron showed up just in time to begin the mind games.

And by the time they have a few minutes alone to talk things through, both of them are too wound up and on edge. Aziraphale is giddy in the belief he and Crowley can be safely together and make things better in a Heaven that Crowley knows for a fact is still murderously corrupt and will turn on them both as it has before. They both want the same thing: to keep each other and themselves safe, but neither of them realise the other doesn’t have all the details of what’s happening.

“You don’t understand what I’m offering you,” Aziraphale says and he means safety, security, protection. “I think I understand it better than you do,” Crowley replies, because he knows what a toxic cesspit Heaven is.

[tonydaddingham]

the s2 endgame

an incredibly long post that i will not apologise for but does contain multiple frames of michael sheens face, so-

the first beat, for me, that truly leads up to the kiss is when aziraphale says to crowley, "i don't think you understand what im offering you." because whilst im sure in part aziraphale was referring to the offer of restoration and - as he perceived it - what it meant for crowley (and that's what crowley denied with "i understand. i think i understand a whole lot better than you do."), i think aziraphale truly meant that crowley didn't understand what the restoration could give them. to restore crowley meant that aziraphale could give all of himself to crowley, with no fear of reprisal or comeuppance like they've had to suffer for their entire existence; "pretending that we aren't".

it meant that they could be safe, together, as two angels, and not on opposite sides in the eyes of heaven. they could work together to make things better, but they would be together. crowley was completely justified in refusing the offer, based on his own trauma and pain that heaven unforgivably dealt to him, but aziraphale wasn't necessarily asking crowley to forget or forgive that; but instead to be with aziraphale, aziraphale completely as he is with nothing hidden, nothing repressed, and nothing sequestered away in fear of retribution from heaven - or indeed in fear of rejection from crowley.

so when crowley said he understood more than aziraphale did, i imagine that meant to aziraphale that crowley did indeed see all of that, had heard aziraphale and knew what aziraphale was offering, the security and freedom as aziraphale saw it, but didn't want it - didnt want aziraphale, didn't want that version of us - anyway. crowley didn't mean it that way, of course; he meant he knew that the restoration would trap him, try to make him into an angel he no longer knew or wanted to be, and was rejecting what he thought aziraphale wanted him to be.

but i personally can't conceive any notion where aziraphale would ever have thought this - he's fallen for the not-quite-angel-not-quite-demon that crowley is now - why can't crowley see that? he just wants to give him back the same peace and joy that he had before the fall, but naively cant understand that being an angel doesn't make it so. it's not about being an angel, for aziraphale, but what being an angel could return to crowley... that it could fix the wounds that the fall left behind.

but here we arrive at "no nightingales". given the symbolism in popular culture and in mythology behind the nightingale, and the context of the nightingale in their story, it seems to me like crowley is saying that the conversation that has just transpired between them has broken something. and really broken something. it hasn't broken the love, per se - that's still there - but it's led to their own personal tragedy. their conflicting wants and needs have led to the downfall. that in crowley's eyes, there isn't a way to repair the damage that has been done. he doesn't even qualify that it's 'no nightingales singing', but the full absence of them, meaning that this has changed - poisoned - every chance of what could have been.

"we could have been us" compounds this; that in crowley's mind, there is no possibility of this now. that he knows what aziraphale will decide, what he will choose, and knows that he has already lost; and he's placing all of it at aziraphale's feet. that if the only way to see them be together is to be restored, to return to heaven, then crowley can't and will not do it - he doesn't understand why aziraphale would even entertain the thought and sees it as a reflection of aziraphale's distain for his current self.

aziraphale however sees it as an opportunity to ensure that they are safe in perpetuity, and wants to reverse the fall because the happiness and joy that he saw before is what he wants for crowley now, not realising that the two are, as of now, currently incompatible. so this line is, for aziraphale, the final deathblow; that there is no way back from this, the chance has faded to nothing even if the love between them remains - and they'll never get back the 'us' that existed before the event, let alone the 'us' that they both want now.

the wave hits aziraphale and bowls him over, makes him stagger. what he has been wanting - but couldn't initiate out of fear - is now completely impossible and will never happen. his face crumples, and he turns away, mirrors crowley in not looking at him, not letting him see the vulnerability and the sorrow. he looks to the left, into the dark and away from the light, into the space where crowley normally stands, always by his side, and not on the other side of the chasm that has now erupted between them.

but crowley does sees the face, and recognises it. he's seen it before, seen the expression of when aziraphale hears his sentence and resigns himself to his fate, and despairs in kind that this rift of both of their makings has put in on aziraphale's face. but he also sees it as a mark of hope; can I change his mind? can I offer him something that I haven't offered yet? he can feel the last burning embers of doubt, and he could stoke it. build to a full fire, to an inferno. words haven't worked, they never work - "it's always too late" - but in this case, just one time, action might. so then crowley - oh, crowley - makes up his mind. he has to know, whatever happens, that he did everything that he could possibly do to cling to this dream, this fairytale, where they might get to be together.

and it's pure desperation and determination, the swan dive off the cliff not knowing how far it'll be until he reaches the bottom. there's the smallest chance he might catch an updraft and fly. but the kiss - whether he intends it that way or not - is a temptation. and he's so good at that, isn't he? he tempted aziraphale into eating, he tempted him into dispatching a child... he knows he can do it, and he knows that aziraphale can succumb to it (whether it's because angels can in fact be tempted by demons, or because aziraphale can be tempted by crowley). he has nothing else to lose, but everything to gain, and that everything is slipping through his fingers, "you can't leave this bookshop", so what does it matter if he tries to keep aziraphale in the last way he knows how?

and even then this time, it's more; it's physical, it's raw, and it's human. their common ground. he's the serpent of eden, he tempted eve to the apple, he brought about the fall of humanity. crowley has gone beyond tempting aziraphale with sly words, assurances, and logic; this time, he's putting everything into it, giving it his all, so neither of them can ever say he didn't try. temptation was literally his first order, his first command; his most powerful and yet destructive capability. and each one, on aziraphale's part, has led to manifestly chipping away at aziraphale's divinity, his angelic core. each one has made aziraphale into the person he is today, the person that crowley loves, so whilst it may not be the right thing to do, it's the best chance he has to reach him.

so crowley grabs him, wheels him round to face him, and pulls aziraphale into him. there are no words, there's no gentleness, there's no finesse; it's practically animal, carnal and rough, and everything that - in all likelihood - neither of them wanted when they imagined how this moment would be, if it ever came. and throughout the whole thing, crowley does not move. his grip does not lessen, his mouth does not move, his expression does not falter; it's like he's serpentine again in all but form, constricting and gripping his prey into subjugation. it's instinctive, and unconscious, probably involuntary, but it leaves aziraphale with such little room, no space to breathe.

aziraphale visibly seems to struggle - somewhat physically, but certainly emotionally and mentally - and we can see that predominantly in his expression. he at least almost seems like he's trying to pull away, or create some space between them. it's not how he likely imagined their first kiss - if they ever got to have one and if aziraphale indeed ever imagined it - to be; it's not right, and it certainly doesn't feel like love. love may be behind the wheel, but what is slamming into him in possession, and anguish. i can't believe that aziraphale doesn't know or feel that, not going by the way he reacts. there's also the fact that - as far as we've seen - the last time crowley gripped him by the lapels and got this close to him was at tadfield manor, when crowley was all but raging at him, "im not nice, im never nice; nice is a four-letter word". it's an unmistakable parallel, and it may be that that four-letter word is swapped out for another one, it certainly doesn't feel like it in the moment.

but then aziraphale relaxes, rocks back towards crowley, and returns it. he grips at his back, at the space where resides his wings, and gives back crowley what he's asking for. it might be that aziraphale is trying to be kind - giving him the confirmation that he returns his love even if he can't act on it - or it might be because aziraphale actually realises that he likes it, this kiss, and the brutality of it. it might even be that he knows that this may be his only chance to show crowley that it's reciprocated; that he feels the same way. but it may also be, in addition to any or indeed all of the above, that aziraphale subconsciously succumbs to the temptation. gripped and bound, with nowhere to go, he surrenders to his fate - the freefall - and allows himself for a moment to sink. but then he steps back out of it, reins himself in, lifts his hands again from crowley, and crowley finally lets go.

crowley lets go, and stands back to see what it might have changed. did he tempt him, did he succeed? will his angel stay? it felt like he will, he felt his hands and how he surrendered - he didn't imagine it - and it might have worked in crowley's favour. it worked with the ox. it worked with the antichrist. there's no reason it wouldn't work this time, right?

until aziraphale steps back. he steps back, places that distance, the chasm, between them again, and looks for all the world that the heavens have caved in, crashing and splintering all around them. a look of utter despair, almost a plea that what happened didn't happen, because it changes everything. it puts what can't happen into the open, makes it more than the abstract. it's longing, and it's sorrow, and it's heartbreak that this could have been what they'd have.

but the fog starts to lift, the shock has settled in, and horror sweeps over; it's disbelief that crowley made that move, and made it in the way he did. it's waking up, coming-to, reality starts to seep back in. it's looking down at the board, and seeing a check on the king, a challenge that aziraphale never saw coming -

- and then it almost becomes fear and panic, backed into a corner, and not necessarily because someone could have seen them, or because crowley has now put something fundamentally physical to what they are (although i believe these could also be contributory to his reaction), but it's the dread of having to refuse and deny what crowley has put out between them, dangling between their fingers waiting to be held.

aziraphale begins to bargain, starts to try reconciling what just happened, and whether anything can be salvaged. he's had a tiny piece of what their future could hold for them, and he has a decision to make. he starts wavering, starts to oscillate between the decision to follow his head and do what he feels is the right thing in the long-term, or arguably betray the person he has become over the millennia, deny himself what he thinks is the right thing, and instead follow his heart; grasp at crowley, and the future he laid out before him.

he looks to crowley for guidance, he's lost, suddenly unanchored in a churning maelstrom. trying to gauge what move he should take - does he surrender the king, or move it to evade the check?

either decision means that the game is up or is only a matter of time before it folds; he either risks their safety by staying, or risks losing crowley by going. there isn't another option, there isn't another way, and aziraphale is teetering between the two. neither are options that he wholeheartedly wants to take. he begins to trying to speak, trying to get out words that are choking him, trapped in the snare of Things Unsaid. words to explain, to placate, to beseech, to plead, and it starts to really hurt.

and what hurts about it the most is that he's about to deny crowley. in the full scene - you can't get it from just the frames - his expression is complete heartbreak. he wants to explain why, even now, when he wants to stay more than anything, he has to choose heaven. why he has to choose to continue evading the check, why he has to continue to fight. and it's the prospect of hurting crowley in the process, of prolonging the pain, that is tearing him apart.

except. except. he's just realised what crowley was doing. it was desperation, and fear for losing aziraphale, and a last ditch attempt to cling to what they have and what they could have. all of these thing, out of love.

but what aziraphale realises is that it was manipulation. it was temptation. this one means something deeper, something darker, because to aziraphale it was calling him to betray who he truly is. and suggests that who he truly is isn't enough.

his gaze flicks up from the floor, and he finally makes full eye contact, staring crowley down. it's disbelief all over again; that crowley would resort to that trick, the trick that crowley knows is aziraphale's personal, heartfelt weakness, and one that he will - and demonstrably always has - succumbed to.

it's the disbelief that crowley would take this power and use it to mold and ply aziraphale into staying, when crowley should know that going - to "make a difference" - is the most aziraphale thing he could do. if crowley loves him, exactly as he is, why would he try to make aziraphale betray that?

the anger, the sense of betrayal, sets in, and spreads like hellfire. it relaxes his face, almost bringing him an eerie serenity. because he's seen that not only does he have to break the check (tirelessly continuing the chess metaphor), but he's going to fight back. he's seen that he can instead take the piece threatening him, and checkmate in kind.

it's the scorched earth option, but one that will demonstrate that he's not one to falter under the eyes of a challenge; he will stand his ground, roots digging into the earth, and will not be moved. he takes a breath, about to move his piece that will end the game. it will make crowley lose, but it was lost already; the game was up as soon as he told aziraphale he understood what aziraphale was offering him. because whilst crowley was talking about a place in heaven, aziraphale was talking about us.

and to aziraphale's mind, crowley was so unwilling to hear him, so ready to reject whatever narrative meant he would have to love aziraphale more than he hated heaven, that crowley would stoop to essentially trying to trick aziraphale into staying. into betraying who he is at his core.

instead, aziraphale steels himself; he knows who he is, and he will be enough. the acceptance of the situation, what it will mean when he 'wins', will do something unspeakable, but it must be done. he has to show his own claws, show how much it hurt. aziraphale takes a breath, even has a small smirk, and places the final piece.

"i forgive you."

[pottedplant53]

A Bunch Of Silly Twisted Wonderland Headcannons

AHHHHHHH I'm definitely gonna make some of these into fics since I have no self control whatsoever. Contains slight character spoillers!

Ruggie's full legal name is Ruginald Francis Bucchi. Ruggie Bucchi appears on most of his tests and stuff so he thought he was safe, but Leona somehow found out about it and has been calling him Ruginald ever since.

There are some personality traits attached to each dorm that generally go overlooked - such as Octavinelle's penchant for gossiping. Most Octavinelle students can sit there and shit talk literally anyone for hours at a time, it doesn't even matter if there's nothing to be said, they'll just start rumours. Not even the trio are immune to this.

After the MC shattered Deuce's entire worldview (told him that there weren't always chicks inside eggs), Ace took it as an opportunity to develop a new hobby. For no reason other than to be a bitch, every so often Ace will gaslight Deuce into believing something dumb. Deuce starts off so sure that Ace is trying to trick him, but by the end of it he'll waddle up to Trey with his head down and ask him if chocolate milk really does come from brown cows.

Sometimes when in public, Vil will carry around a purse filled with bricks. No one knows why and no one is brave enough to ask. The actual reason is something to do with specialized weight training, but Epel has come to the conclusion that he has it so he can swing it around like a mace and beat people up with it.

Sebek once carved an elaborate ice sculpture of Malleus for his birthday. He figured that since it was December at the time it would be cold enough to keep the statue in the courtyard until January (so that everyone had to look at it), but he was wrong. When he realised it had melted he was so distraught that he fainted.

Trey and Chenya both despise Riddle's mother. Chenya in particular exacts revenge on her by sneaking into her study and hiding glasses of milk around, so that once they go bad she'll have no idea where the awful smell is coming from. Trey likes to think that he's more mature than that, but when Chenya told him about it he resolutely decided that it was 'none of his business'. Chenya always makes sure to remove the milk before Riddle goes home for the holidays though.

The staff are massive shippers, Sam and Crewel especially. They have a list of OTP's a mile long and will actively fight anyone who disagrees with them. Crowley tried to tell them that shipping their students together was 'unprofessional', so they reminded him that not hiring a counsellor after the 6th overblot in a row was even more unprofessional. He was quiet after that.

When Neige first saw Epel he thought he was a dwarf, and got really excited because it meant that Vil also had dwarf friends and they could bond over it. He asked his friends if they knew what kind of dwarf Epel was, and seeing how excited it made him no one had the heart to tell him. To this day, Neige believes that Epel is an apple dwarf, a species entirely made up by Dominic.

Lilia is 99% sure that Silver is probably the missing prince of a neighbouring kingdom. When he first found him he intended to take him back immediately, but then it started raining so he couldn't without risking small Silver's health. Every day there was something preventing him from taking him back, be it the weather or an event or just Lilia not really feeling it. This has been going on for 17 years.

After a particularly tiring basketball club meeting, Jamil came back to the dorm only to realise he'd forgotten to prepare anything for Kalim's dinner. In a moment of desperation he threw some dinosaur chicken nuggets in the oven and prepared a whole speech on why he hadn't cooked a proper meal like usual. He served them and Kalim declared that they were the greatest thing he'd ever tasted. Jamil was furious.

A bunch of Ignihyde students banded together to confront Idia about some minor issues that were going on in the dorm (the heater is broken, my roommate is being too loud, etc). They stood outside his door waiting for a response for so long they were worried that he'd died. It turns out that he'd heard them coming and bungie jumped out of the window using a string of his Hatsune Miku underwear to get away from them.

Thanks for reading pookies

[ellycrys]

A Note about Power dynamics in Good Omens

(and how that plays out with Aziraphale and Crowley’s relationship and the choices they make with each other)

Aziraphale and Crowley are dealing with all powerful entities in Heaven and Hell.    They aren’t in positions of power…. and they have created safe space with each other.   This means that some of what happens between them does come down to testing limits and having the freedom to do things they aren’t able to do elsewhere.

They’ve created their own dynamic…. but they are also exploring and learning about what is possible for themselves…. and what it feels like to have things they haven’t been allowed to have before.   

Aziraphale, one the one hand, hasn’t had much in the way of power himself…. and has been bullied by Heaven.  So in his interactions with Crowley, has the luxury and freedom to take positions of power and refuse to bend or compromise.  To be 'IN CHARGE'. And Crowley indulges this tremendously…. until lines are crossed.      

We saw this with Aziraphale and the Ox.  

Given the opportunity at first he gorges himself …. because he’s suddenly realized he’s starving and over time is able to refine how he fills that need…. but it is still there, he’s just learned how to control his reaction to that hunger and enjoyment.   

As someone who spent a period of time having to go without a lot of things…. I noticed that there was a way of thinking about the things I needed/wanted that didn’t immediately change when I suddenly had them and there was no longer any worry about surviving.  It can be an adjustment.   And there’s a tendency to hoard or overdo it when enjoying those things at first because your brain is hardwired to think “this could be the last time… I need to get as much of this as I can.”  Even if your brain knows better, instincts for survival are automatic and hardwired.    

In a normal world there are lots of checks and balances to help balance this kind of growth out so you don't end up swinging to the other side of the pendulum of want.....  

But AziCrow have their bubble they’ve created and they are the most powerful beings in that bubble.  They can warp reality around them, and force people to go along with whatever they are doing if they really want to. Ahem…. looking at you Aziraphale.   (still love you though)

And checks and balances don’t exist in their bubble, so the only person who could stop Aziraphale from going on a power trip is Crowley.   

(if I had them I would link to my season 3 thoughts here… I am still working on my thoughts around what happens next... where are you at?)

Crowley has been forced by both sides to take actions and hold positions that don't align with who he is as a core being….

...and doesn’t have the ability to refuse outright any order or demand of hell.   

His entire existence has been written around falling for caring too much about things that matter and asking questions.  

The universe has demanded things of Crowley that Crowley has been punished for disagreeing with, his words are considered “wrong” and there has been nowhere he could go or escape to avoid the consequences of being himself.  

His superiors appear to him in his car or on his television…. he’s literally trapped and unable to stop that from happening, except in the bookshop (that’s a tangent I’m going to step past for now)

Crowley talks about running away a lot.   But running away usually has everything to do with Aziraphale and wanting them to be safe, or reacting to Aziraphale during a fight.

So for Crowley running, leaving…. having the power to choose to leave…. to remove himself from a situation is its own exercise of power.  It’s a freedom to choose that hasn’t been afforded to him by Heaven or Hell.

So is it a survival mechanism or a protective mechanism…. sure.   

But in a very real sense both Crowley and Aziraphale are given the opportunity with each other to act out these things ….

...for Aziraphale it’s the ability to control his universe and for Crowley the ability to choose his own path and to say he will choose it.   

They are for each other a way of working through these things they can do nowhere else, and taking risks and doing things they should not be able to do.

[mushiver]

In s1, during Crowley's grief after Aziraphale died, he seemingly blamed himself when he said "I never asked to be a demon." If they were both still angels, they would've been allowed to be together without danger, hesitation, or "sides". Every time Aziraphale showed contempt for Crowley being a demon, Crowley clarified that he hadn't meant it to happen in the first place (he hung out with the wrong people; he sauntered vaguely downwards)

NOW imagine the shattering grief in the finale when he thought he wasn't good enough for Aziraphale. Crowley's worst fear coming true

Crowley let go of Hell. It was the two of them, their own side, and he always wanted it to be. I think Aziraphale loves Crowley the way he is, but he saw an opportunity to do good, and for them to be together safely. He knows Crowley enjoys doing good, and he's a good person, but fails to see the corruption in Heaven. He remembers how happy he was as an angel, not the fact that getting kicked out wasn't his fault in the first place

Now I'm wondering if Crowley will blame himself and spiral, or if he KNOWS Aziraphale has problems, and he's willing to wait for him to work it out. Either way. Aziraphale apologize right now challenge

[ask-but-beware-the-consequences]

After the End | part 2

Continuation of 2x06

On the way back, Crowley was still thinking. When he was up in Heaven with Muriel, he saw the video of the archangels wanting to continue the great plan. Just because Gabriel said no at Armageddon 2, and they unofficially fired him, that doesn't mean they won't continue until they can finally get there. This won't be solved just by running away. Aziraphale was right, even if he was manipulated, they need someone on the inside, with a high position such as what he got offered. They need to put an end to the plan of destruction for good. Aziraphale must be scared senseless, from Metatron, from the task he took on, from God, from failing, from him not being beside him.

He almost stopped in his steps, but they needed to get his talking over with.

- Oh, the love pair I meant to report back from!

- I think it's not needed anymore. I was stupid enough to say what we really did with that miracle.

- Are you angry at yourself?

- I am. Very much. I keep screwing things up, but that's just how demons are.

Nina and Maggie were waiting for them to return, waved to Muriel, and welcomed them at the table.

- Hello! I don't think it's important anymore, but I'm curious, are you two in love yet?

Nina gave her the look.

- ...You just can't stop asking about my love life, can you?

- Sorry! I was just promised that this would happen and now I'm invested in it. A bit.

- Look, maybe one day, alright? For now I need space, and some peace.

- Oh alright! So what do you want to talk about?

- Crowley?

- So as you know, Metatron took away Aziraphale Up there.

- Yes.

- Did you like Aziraphale?

- He was being very kind, yes! It was fun to work around him.

- Yesss...I get that.

- I hope nothing bad happens to him. It would be a shame to lose such a friendly angel. But he's getting a promotion, so I'm sure he'll be alright in Heaven!

Nina had seen the third person with this still believing in magic trope, it was getting weird. Maggie on the other hand wanted to tell her what's going on but still kept her word to Crowley.

- Muriel, do you think Heaven, for you as angels, is really a good place?

- Of course! Hell is bad, so it only makes sense it's all good!

Nina was giving up in her mind from all that innocence and for it being used out.

- Okay let's cut this short. Aziraphale is in bad hands, and Metatron is using him. He might get to you too, just to get what he wants. You need to know this, do not trust Metatron, he wants to use you.

- I mean, everyone does, that's how it has to be, but how do you know about Metatron? He's the voice of God, he can't be that bad..? I feel like everyone's got more knowledge but me. I'm doing such a bad job - she said dissapointedly at herself.

Maggie tried to make it better for her.

- No, no! You're not doing a bad job, you're just unexperienced!

Crowley continued.

- You doing a good job now only depends on what you will do. I'm a demon, I know. But it would be wise to step aside from anything Metatron would try to tell you.

- Didn't Aziraphale tried to do the same?

Crowley got quiet. He was hurt by those words, so Maggie continued.

- I think what he means to say is, it would be better to avoid him for now. Don't get involved, be busy when he would need you.

- But it's my best chance at finally getting forward in my job!

- God...! Are all angels like that? - Nina was getting a bit upset.

- Mostly - Crowley said.

- Look, you're not safe with him. You either miss out on one opportunity, and probably get more opportunities later, or you get too far too soon and risk your existence, and live in fear. We want what's best for you.

Crowley was thinking.

- I think it's better if you hide your face for now - he took a breath - Muriel needs to go Up. I have a message to Aziraphale. Maggie you're coming too.

Nina joined in.

- Then I'm coming too, I don't want to miss out on any important changes.

- ...Sure.

Crowley got inside with the others onto the Bookshop's lowest floor.

- We need to do a very good job at this. We're hiding Muriel, so Heaven can't get a note of that.

Muriel was getting anxious.

- Why is this so important? Are you doing another trick on me, Mr. Grumpy?

- Stop!... Stop calling me that!

Nina looked at Crowley, he was being desperate, and she could read it.

- Everything he knows, knows it from me.

Crowley gave her a look of confusion, but she want on.

- If anyone asks, it's me who helped, I was the one who realised Metatron is dangorous.

- That's kind of true - Crowley admitted.

- I saw that Metatron manipulated Aziraphale, and poisoned him against his own will - Nina signaled with her brows at Crowley.

- Oh, ooh! Yeah. No! You don't say...! - he acted flabbergasted, like he just learnt that information.

- He's in danger, he might even die, and Metatron might do the same to you. You need to hide.

- I-... I don't get it. We were supposed to be the good guys! - Muriel was scared.

- Oh please, not this again - Crowley breathed out from annoyance, he didn't want to start this over again with another angel too.

- Look Muriel, we like you. You're like a lost puppy and we're trying to look out for you. We are humans, the in-between, we share love. We want to help you. You can't trust a demon that's fine, but you have to trust us!

Maggie came in to speak too.

- You like Aziraphale too, right?

- Well, yes. Barely anyone talks to me, and it was nice to have someone to talk to. He's really nice!

- It all depends on you if we can save him. Saving someone is good, you would do good, wouldn't you?

- Yes, of course!

- Then do this for Aziraphale, and for yourself.

- ...Alright.

Everyone sighed out.

- Thank you.

- So... - Muriel continued - What are we doing?

- Check if anyone's looking in Heaven - Crowley said.

Later the four of them walked out of the shop like nothing happened, to get to the building they've been using to get to Heaven.

They all gave out a sigh, standing in a row.

- It's time. Isn't it? - Muriel asked, giving out an anxious sigh - Coming back to Heaven again.

- It is - Crowley said calmly - you need to do this. We believe in you.

- I'm a bit scared too... but, good luck! - and Maggie snapped her fingers for the elevator to appear.

- Take care. Don't let them take Maggie. Or either of you - said Muriel and she stepped into the elevator.

- We'll be good, you don't have to worry about us - said Crowley.

And finally, Muriel stepped into the elevator. Going up, alone. The thought of Aziraphale being on his own, alone too was what gave her bravery.

Previous <•> Next

[myhumanweakness]

I don’t want to be a huge asshole, but...

There are a lot of people trying to find a modicum of positivity in the finale. It’s not about this Destiel-Bibro war that’s happened over the years, it’s not about Cas, it’s not about any of the superficial drama. This finale was the weirdest mixture of OOC and in character writing I have ever seen. 

Things that are in character: 

The brothers put each other first. They are each other’s safe place and stability. Up until the very end. Sam respected Dean’s wishes, stayed with him in his last moments, and let him go gracefully. Sam even went on and had a full life so Dean’s sacrifices weren’t in vain. 

For Dean, Heaven wasn’t perfect without Sam there. And he had this huge sense of relief and happiness when Sam arrived. 

Jack deconstructed the walls of Heaven so that it was a vast place where everyone could be together. They weren’t living out their “best memories” anymore. They were creating new memories eternally with each other. And Bobby recognizing that Jack is like Dean’s son by saying, “That boy of yours...” 

Cas helped build the Heaven that he always dreamed of. Cas always had such a high standard for Heaven, and it always fell short. He helped Jack build a home that was warm and comforting and beautiful and open and loving and true. Everything Cas stood for. 

Bobby, the man Dean adopted as his father, was there to share a beer with him (just like Dean shared with his dad in his childhood). And Bobby was happy and confirmed that Dean is in a Heaven he deserves. 

Sam mourning Dean’s death for the rest of his life, but also living his life to honor Dean. Classic Sam. 

Dean using his last moments to tell Sam how much he loves him and how proud he is. Sam deserved to hear that because we all know Sam looked at Dean as a parental figure. 

Things that are OOC:

Sam not marrying Eileen. The show created this HUGE story arc around Sam and Eileen and their real love and connection. And then they shoot this finale and couldn’t even get an actress that looked like Eileen to stand it the blurry background. Like, I don’t care what you say, it’s NOT open to interpretation. Sam did not end up with Eileen. All of you people who are Sam stans, who say you want your character to be happy and live a full life should be livid. Sam ending up with Eileen wouldn’t have canceled out the fact that Dean was/is his number one person. Dean gave his blessing for Eileen, and he loved her and welcomed her into their lives because he knew Sam loved her and had a genuine connection with her. Having them together would not have ruined the ending in any way. Sam still could have ended up with Dean on that bridge. 

That woman with the blonde/light brown hair is NOT Eileen. They couldn’t even get an actress with dark brown hair to keep hope alive that they ended up together. Absolutely awful. 

Dean just accepting Cas’ death and not even talking about it, other than to say, “Yeah I think about em’ too.” I don’t care if you don’t believe in Destiel or that the love was reciprocated. Dean EXCLUSIVELY said multiple times that Cas is a member of their family and a brother to the boys. He said the words, “YOU”RE MY BEST FRIEND.” I’m not saying Dean should have scarified himself to go pull Cas out of the Empty (because we had 40 minutes to wrap up 15 years). But the fact that Dean was like: I’m gonna eat some pie and just not acknowledge any feelings or thoughts and act like nothing ever happened is SO OOC. If your best friend died tragically, you’d have something to say about it or act like you had something to say about it. And that’s not to say I wanted Dean to be miserable and hurting. I’m happy he got a dog and found some normalcy. But they lost SO many people, and he’s just walking around cool as a cucumber? When every other season/episode where they lost someone important to Dean he was a mess. And I’m not just talking about Cas- we all obviously know how Dean behaved when Cas died/was missing/Lucifer was controlling him. But even when Jo and Ellen died. Even when Mary died. Even when Bobby died. Even when John died. Even when Crowley died. Even when Jack died, Dean was shown hurting. Suddenly everything is cool and normal there’s no pain or anything? The fuck? A brief moment of acknowledgement. That’s all it needed.

I will never forgive the writers for ending Dean’s story that way. A rusty nail impaling him (probably in his pulmonary arteries/aorta based on the angle) on some random hunt after he finally exhaled the episode before and said, “We’re finally free.” He sacrificed his ENTIRE childhood and life for his brother and the world and so many other people, and he didn't even get to enjoy being a human on the Earth and living a life for more than a week. What! Dean was always a character filled with tragedy, and yeah, maybe he did have to die. You can make that argument. But like that?! AND. AND! Sam held a funeral for Dean and DIDN’T INVITE ANYONE! What!!! No one was there to toast to Dean and share their memories and give him the send-off he deserved. Sam just burned his body alone. Never. That would have NEVER happened. Sam loved Dean SO much and looked up to him and thought the world of him. Dean was his big brother who was fearless and strong and the best hunter on this Earth (and probably every other planet), and he didn’t celebrate his life in the end? 

Cas not showing up in Heaven is absolutely insane. INSANE. It doesn’t matter what you think of their relationship, the show has proven that Cas is important to Dean (even if you think Cas is way at the bottom of the list, he’s on it!). Dean’s ideal retirement/endgame was him, Sam, and Cas on a beach, drinking cocktails, with hula girls. That was the future Dean wanted for him and his family. And you’re telling me that Cas helped Jack build the best version of Heaven possible, and the minute Dean Winchester arrived Cas wasn’t there to greet him. Even just to say “Hello, Dean.” Even call Dean’s phone and say, “Welcome home.” Cas would have been the one greeting Dean in Heaven, with Bobby. Requited or not, it’s canon that Cas is in love with Dean. You don’t just ignore the opportunity to see the person you’re in love with. And... and! Even if Cas didn’t greet Dean in Heaven immediately, he would have appeared in the Impala during the drive. He would have met the brothers on the bridge to welcome them both home. Cas loved Sam too. He would have been there. The three boys together again. Team Free Will!  

I love Cas, and I know a lot of Cas stans feel buried and betrayed and hurt over the show doing a “is he there or isn’t he?” thing. And that is completely valid. I can’t even express to you how sorry I am that so many of us in the fandom are hurting. But I know this show. And this show has always made it clear that it was/is always about two brothers. Fine. But Dean Winchester, the most caring and loving human in the entire universe, deserved better. I am so sick to my stomach that Dean’s whole life was him convinced that there was only one way for his story to end and it was him dying tragically. For years he never let himself even entertain the thought of living a life because he 1) didn’t think he deserved that or was worth it 2) it just wasn’t in the cards. We watched Dean grow so much, SO MUCH, that we finally saw him talking about the future and having hope for the future. And yeah, maybe he wouldn’t get the future he talked about with the retirement on the beach, but he would have lived long enough to experience life outside of just “playing whack-a-mole” and being God’s favorite story and puppet. Dean didn’t even get to enjoy his freedom and humanity. They took a character that they purposefully pushed through so many stages of character development to attain hope and faith and self-worth and promise, and killed him. 

What the fuck!

[twsted-simp-writer]

demon

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Songfic

The song I used is a Filipino song called Demonyo by Juan Karlos Labajo. I used the English translation in this one.

Did you know I wouldn't have liked you

If you had an ugly personality?

Days had passed since they left this world. Life continued on normally in Night Raven College. The students did their own things, attending classes, doing their work in their respective dorms.

It was as if he had gone back to those days. Shut inside his room playing games all day, rarely gaining contact towards other people except his little brother, Ortho. Isolated to the world, hiding from the reality present before him.

So dear, you don't have to wonder

Why I felt inlove with you

Standing beside the Headmaster who was carrying a cat, tied up with his so-called whip of love. He wasn't able to see you since his gadget is on his place, where his voice is live playing. By the time the Mirror of Darkness began to assess, it frowned. Their soul had no shape. Therefore, they do not belong to any dorms.

A human who can't use magic taken by the black carriage itself, to this academy. That was a first. He can understand the Headmaster's disbelief. The cat made a huge ruckus, almost setting the Mirror Hall on fire. Thankfully, Azul volunteered along with Riddle to catch the monster.

With the end of the entrance ceremony, he had guided the new freshmen to the Ignihyde Dorm for he was the Dorm Leader.

You are an angel who landed in hell

I'm the demon who will guide you

Back to heaven

In Idia's perspective, their first encounter was weirdly funny and awkward. He ran out of snack that night and decided to buy some wearing his lab coat.

Grim who lost in the rock, paper, scissors game had to buy drinks for the group. Being the worrywart you were, you soon went to help the monster in carrying the drinks. As the said monster walked down the dark hallway, he heard incoherent mumbling the end.

Idia who saw the monster wanted to touch him. He had no bad intentions bit seeing the intense look on his face Grim shrieked. The monster fell on the floor, unconscious. He fainted due to fright thinking he was the mad scientist whom Ace told from a horror story.

You heard Grim's frightened shriek and ran. Along the way, you bumped into him. Idia managed to catch you before you could fell on our butt. Deep inside, he was panicking. He didn't know what to do. His gaze landed on yours. His heart felt a thump as if he was hit by Eros' arrow at that moment.

Those eyes filled with curiosity as they take in his features. You gave their thanks before picking up the drinks and the unconscious monster. He watched your retreating figure while he held his chest. What was that he felt just now?

He met them once again at night where they first encountered. It was awkward at first and you are ended up separating ways without exchanging words. Idia wanted to slap himself. That was his chance yet he was too afraid he may scare them off.

While we're climbing

I fell inlove

With you

A certain robot noticed his brother's odd behavior, he was pacing back and forth talking to himself. He would occasionally shake his head before jumping to his bed and starts smiling like an idiot.

Ortho began to scan Idia and ran an analysis. So far from the results, it seems his brother is showing signs of being in love. Just the thought of that made this precious cinnamon almost want to leap in joy.

"Brother, are you perhaps in love?" His little brother's assumption made him froze and his smile fell. In love? With who? He suddenly thought of your smiling face.

Idia rolled his eyes. That can't be, Ortho must be overthinking things. He better check his system later.

"I'm not, Ortho. I might only be anxious because of something." And that something was you. He was still on denial. Every minute you would enter his mind out of nowhere.

"According to what I researched, when you're in love, you feel like it's not enough, you always think of them, you've been stressed lately" Ortho stated as he read the analysis displayed before him.

"Currently you're in the first stage of liking someone which is denial." Ortho happily announced as he clapped his hands. "I'm glad my brother is slowly opening up!"

Idia merely buried his face on his pillow. "Hmp noszh umn roub..."

The cute robot merely shook his head. His brother would realize it sooner or later.

What if you will suddenly be gone with me

When you give colors to my heart and feelings

He was intoxicated with everything about you. The way their eyes gleam in joy that was staring at his own, twiddling a part of their hair whenever they are nervous, shy or excited.

It seems Ortho may have been right, ever since he laid his eyes on you, he had his heart got stolen. He had gathered all of his courage to speak to you. After many days, you became close.

In his eyes, you were too perfect. Too perfect for him. They deserved someone better than him yet you were stuck with him. A shut-in who play games all day, not that popular, hates going out, not as handsome as the other students in this academy. Just what did you see in him?

Negative thoughts began to accumulate in his mind. Ortho seeing this became nervous. He may accumulate blot at this point. Yet you didn't care and fell in love with him. He felt like it was a dream when you two started dating.

Ortho was very happy by the news and called you sister-in-law which made Idia choke on his own spit.

It started slow but surely. Occasionally holding hands when you both find opportunity. At the end of their dates (mostly indoors), the two lovers would end up with red faces yet felt accomplished.

You are the princess that landed far away

I am the slave that will guide you

Back to the palace

That was the day he felt his whole world somehow stopped. The Headmaster had found a way for his lover to return back to their world. Of course, you would have to go back to your own world one day. He felt like someone took out his heart and shredded it into pieces.

On the day you would leave this world, you bid farewell to your fellow first year friends and acquaintances from the other dorms. Each dorm leaders gave you souvenirs as to remembrance and gave them thanks. With the exception of Leona who said he will not miss them but he gave you one. Even Malleus Draconia was also there to bid you farewell.

You were glancing at the doors of the hall, waiting for him. He was the last one who still hadn't talked to you. Meanwhile in Idia's thoughts as he hide behind the door, you were going to leave and the possibility of you returning in this world would be low.

Crowley tapped their shoulder and reminded them it was time to go. Casting a longing glance at the door, they manage to see him peeking behind the door along with Ortho who reveal himself and began pulling his brother.

You asked the Headmaster to just give them a moment. Without giving him a chance to respond, you ran to the door. Idia froze seeing this. Ortho who was waiting for the right moment, he pushed him. At the exact moment, you hugged him tightly. Idia slowly wrapped his arms around them.

Crowley watched this interaction with a doting smile. He began to mumble about how gracious he was, giving the two lovers their moment.

He held your hand staring at your eyes, desperate. Deep inside, they wanted to stay in this world permanently but they still have their family waiting for them back home.

You said something which Idia didn't manage to hear. He was too absorbed in his thoughts despite staring at them.

They glanced back to the waiting Headmaster who nodded. They shared a brief and chaste kiss before you slowly pulled away from him. He let your hands slipped away from his grasp as you ran back inside the hall.

He watched as you gave him a last glance before smiling, tears welling up in you eyes. Just seeing those eyes made his chest tighten. They went through the mirror swiftly. Idia silently prayed to the gods you would arrive to your world safely. Even though he is not that lucky, he hoped atleast they heard them.

While we're on our way

I felt inlove

Na-na-na, with you

With you

Oh!

"Brother! I have news!!!" Ortho crashed inside the room. He began waving his arms in the air as to catch his brother's attention from the screen. Idia just blankly stared at the screen as he played.

He pouted seeing his brother was too preoccupied in the game.

"I guess you don't want to see (Y/N) again, brother?"

His hands that were holding the controller paused. The character he was playing, died and huge words GAME OVER flashed at the screen.

Idia bit his lower lip as he hugged his knees close to his chest. Just the thought of you made his heart ache and stomach churn.

"They're not here, Ortho. They went back to their world." Idia bitterly said as he tried to hold in the tears. Barely a week just passed since you returned, he felt so lost and heartbroken.

Ortho was silent for a moment before he smiled. He let the person waiting outside the door to silently enter.

"Idia..." A familiar voice spoke up behind him. Fear and Hope surged throughout his body. Was that what he think it was? Did the Fates love to torture him?

Turning around, his eyes slowly widened and glistened. Standing there at the door frame was you, in a casual outfit. His heart stopped the moment his eyes met yours. His throat became dry, his legs were shaking

You are an angel who landed in hell

I'm the demon who will guide you

Back to heaven

Without a care, tears that well up began to flow down to his cheeks. He ran and wrapped his arms around them, wondering if this was a dream. If it was, he would never want to wake up from this.

You gently smiled seeing the tears, wiping them with their thumbs. You held his face, caressing his cheeks. Idia nuzzle his head close to their warmth.

"I missed you so much..." He broke down as he clutched your hand whimpering, as if they will disappear any moment. He felt like he would go crazy.

"Is this real? Am I hallucinating?" They chuckled seeing his cute antics, mumbling incoherent words. Wrapping their arms around his neck and leaning close, their lips met. They shared a long, gentle but full kiss

Ortho discreetly left the room with a huge grin in his face and quietly close the door. He knew both of them need privacy and make up the lost time.

"H-How?" Idia dumbfoundedly asked as he slowly calm down. His lover giggled before pouting.

"You weren't able to hear what I said back then, didn't you?" They said, poking Idia's cheeks. He began to reminisced that day.

"I promised I'll come back." Idia heard it back then but he was too caught up in his thoughts. They knew he was distracted that day. He didn't answer except he brought them close to his chest.

While we're climbing

I felt inlove

With you

With you

Laying on his own bed, you stare at him with an apologetic expression on their face. "I'm sorry if it took too long..."

Idia held their cheeks as he absorbed their whole features. They had indeed matured a few years which made him think you had grown more beautiful/handsome in his eyes.

"I'll forgive you after you cuddle with me. Also, weeks had just passed..." He turned his head hiding his flustered face. Luckily, you were surprised at the difference on how time runs here and on your world.

"I guess the time flow is here is different from my world."

Idia brought their frame close to his chest. They were stunned but soon burst into fit of giggles. Staring at his eyes, filled with pure love, they pecked his lips and hugged him.

Idia lay his chin above their head in content. A soft smile crawl upon his dark lips. The Fates was somewhat merciful to him this time.

Mmm

Oh

With you

[shoujolover-666]

A fae’s love

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27197677

Characters: Yandere!Lilia, Reader

Summary:  Lilia could feel that they were being watched.

A frustrated sound filled the oh so silent room as they threw their phone against their bed, a look of anger was on their face as they ran a hand through soft strands of hair. It was the Halloween Event in Twisted Wonderland, and they saved up quite a lot of summons just for that. They didn’t manage to get any of the cards they wanted though.

Not a single Jade, Vil or even Azul was in sight. No, the only one they got was Lilia.

Over and over again.

Even when they maxed him out, the gacha didn’t stop throwing the young looking ancient being at them.

Really, at first they didn’t mind it at all. Lilia was one of their favourite characters because of how fun, interesting and mysterious he was, but that didn’t mean that he wanted to get him. All. The. Time.

They lied down next to the phone he just threw a few seconds ago, grabbing it before rolling around in a lazy manner. For now… he would probably level him up and put him in his team. His attack stats weren’t bad after all, and the element combination was decent enough.

Still, they had no intention of keeping him there permanently.

While they were trying to calm themself down, they didn’t notice the pair of red eyes following him through the screen.

~ 🦇

Lilia was watching them from the homescreen. It was the only time he had the chance to watch them, for usually, he was busy doing other things usually.

Being with his dorm mates, watching some of the other students or doing whatever task he had been given by the teachers who were like little children in comparison to himself.

But when he was summoned by that strange entity, he was able to take a glimpse at a person who seemed to be the one who was watching over all of them, influencing the child of man in the way they wanted him to act to a certain extent. Something that was quite fascinating to him.

A person who was watching over them from time to time, almost as if they were some kind of god… he wished to know more about them. He wanted to see what they would think of all of them, and he wanted to know in what way they would tick.

That was how he started to watch them from the background, hidden in places in which he guessed that the entity was not able to see him. Lilia was able to feel when he was being watched, which he used to his advantage. The ancient fae started to be around the other students more as he observed Yuu. In a way, he acted way too passive for it to be natural. Almost as if he was simply a vessel for the being who was watching all of the things at the school unfold.

There were times when he was stuck at a strange place, in which he couldn’t do much, he had the opportunity to take a close look at them.

It was fascinating. They were neither unbelievable beautiful nor ugly, but there was something so fascinating, that he couldn’t help but be in slight awe.

A pair of eyes that were shining with excitement. Locks of soft looking hair that he wanted to touch and maybe do something with. Rosy cheeks and a bright smile on cute lips.

“Isn’t it interesting how mysterious I am?”

“Hehe, did you notice? Today I was able to tie my necktie into a prettier butterfly knot than usual.”

He loved talking to them, and sometimes, they even answered with an adorable laugh of theirs. It always made his heart beat in excitement, and he couldn’t help but look forward to those meetings more and more, no matter how sudden they were. With time though, he noticed that they spent less and less time with him, until at one point he wasn’t being summoned anymore. At that, he became annoyed, which he hid behind his usual smile. Certainly they will summon him again, won’t they?

He was wrong. They did not summon him, and he got angrier and angrier each time. They paid more and more attention to the other students than him, and he could feel his blood boil.

How were they worthy when they did not even notice their presence? How were they more deserving of their love than him. At one point, he snapped and decided to take matters in his own hands.

Each time he could feel the pull, he would get in the other students way, so they would only have him in their mind. When it was time for Halloween, he made sure that they won’t get anyone but him.

Like that, they would have to notice him again. To love him again and to pay attention to him.

Lilia could feel the anger, even see it sometimes, but he didn’t care and kept on smiling. As long as they looked at them, he was happy.

That was what he thought at first at least. The longer that went on, the longer he desired to be able to interact with that deity, with that god.

With that goal in mind, he started to research. Day and night, he spent his time in libraries while using his connections to all kinds of people that he built up over the years he has lived to get more magical texts and scrolls.

There had to be something that would let him do the thing he wanted, right?

Time passed, and he got more and more frustrated. His obsession only grew with each day.

Until it finally happened.

A magic spell that required a few living sacrifices to summon a being into his world, into his arms. It was not guaranteed that it would work, or that it would bring him the person he wanted to meet so badly, but he didn’t care.

Sacrificing a few was worth it, as long as he could get to touch them, to talk to them, to take them.

Maybe there were a few people who wouldn’t be missed? The headmaster might be willing to part from a few of his students if he offered him a few favours.

Lilia was numb to killing and death because of the things he did in the past.

War was taxing on the mind, even if it had been such a long time ago. Now though, it helped him with having an easier time to get the things he wanted.

To his surprise, Crowley was not willing to offer students, but he was willing to use contacts of his own.

Well, as long as he got what he needed, he didn’t care.

Like that, he started to prepare the ritual. He was careful, everything had to be perfect. When he had the time, he was preparing the room he would keep them in.

Soft, pillows. Silken sheets. Comfortable beds. A wardrobe with the finest clothes.

Anything less could not be accepted. A chuckle crawled up his throat, which he hid behind his hand before he continued to prepare everything.

Soon.

~ 🦇

They were playing the main story of Twisted Wonderland. Chapter five to be more exact. Their fingers were resting over the screen as they read the text, chuckling over the funny moments while getting angry over moments that they saw as unfair. Every time they played this game, they couldn’t help but feel with the characters and get invested in what they are doing and how they felt.

Still, in the end, they were just fictional characters. And soon, they were sure of it, they would find another fandom to get into and start obsessing over that. It was simply a cycle, and they didn’t mind as long as it brought them joy.

“Finally.”

A surprised look was on their face and they looked around, searching for the source of the voice. It was Lilias voice, they knew it all too well by now, having heard it almost every time they visited the game.

But how? He was nowhere to be seen on the screen, the only characters visible were Vil and Epel!

Screeching was echoing from the walls as their hand suddenly went through the phone, a force seemed to suck them in. They tried to fight against it, but to no avail. Laughing was the last thing they heard, before they lost consciousness.

~ 🦇

Lilia looked at the summoning circle that appeared on the ceiling he was in and grinned from ear to ear, holding out his arms so he would be able to catch them. They landed safely in his arms, and he could feel their sweet scent enveloping him.

It was difficult to describe because of how intoxicating it was to him. The body he held close to himself was warm, and full of life.

They were perfect. So much more than he expected.

With the person still in his arms, he turned around and left the place that was prepared for him. He didn’t care about the mess that he left behind. Crowley would surely clean it himself anyway. Even if he didn’t, there was no time to worry about trivial matters like these, for he had to take care of someone way more important than that little bit of dirt.

The ancient fae walked with them through the halls of Diasomnia to bring them to the room he especially prepared for them, a place where no one else but him and Malleus were allowed to go. Maybe even Silver and Sebek if he was in an especially good mood. None of the fellow students dared to look at them or even dared to ask him who the person in his arms was, for they were way too afraid of him.

Not without reason.

When they finally arrived, he gently placed them on the bed before he traced their lips with his pale, thin fingers, feeling the body heat that radiated from them. Without a second thought, he placed his own lips against the others, one hand was placed on a cheek. Lilia tugged on their bottom lip with his teeth before he bit down, letting the metallic but also sweet taste of their warm blood fill his mouth.

A moan escaped him, it was better than any wine he had tasted, better than even the freshest bottle of tomato juice.

It was addicting, and he never wanted to live without it again.

And he wouldn’t. He would make sure that this being, this entity would stay here in that safe, comfortable place forever. There will definitely be resistance at first, but it was nothing a little curse or spell couldn’t salvage.

He lied down next to them now, pulling them into his arms and caressing their hair. This… finally he had what he wanted. In the past, he felt that something was missing, but he could never tell what it was.

Now that he had them with him, he knew. Finally he was complete.

Anyone who would try to take this happiness away from him would not be spared.

[video-killed-the-radio-host]

Better Late Than Never

This is my #goodomenssecretsanta gift for @dvdemoni !! Cutting it super close but it’s finished!!

Crowley wasn't entirely sure why they attended this party. Pompous humans in stuffy formal wear wasn't exactly their kind of scene. It was, however, the perfect opportunity to show up the humans at their own game. 

They run their fingers over the black and red silk with a soft crimson smile. Moving through the ballroom, they flash a smile at all the attention they brought their way. Their eyes twinkle behind the mask fitted snugly to their face. There was only one man they were looking for this night. They knew he was here. He threw this party. 

Then they spot the man in all white. The only man in pure white. Crowley skirts through the crowds until they were masked face to masked face. 

“Madame.” Aziraphale smiles and bows at the waist.

“Was a large party under the name ‘Adam Serpente’ truly necessary?” Crowley raises an eyebrow.

“Well I had to make sure you would come darling.” Aziraphale’s eyes twinkle under his mask. “Without being obvious.”

“You could have just asked.”

“I could have, yes. But you do have a habit of turning down my invitations.”

Crowley opens their mouth to argue before realizing, yeah, he’s right. “Perhaps. But I have never known you to back down from a challenge.” 

“You couldn’t let me win just this once?” Aziraphale offers his hand.

Crowley takes the offered hand. “Angel, you’ve ‘won’ multiple times. You just never opened your eyes enough to see.”

Aziraphale smiles softly, finding that he yet again loved the feeling of their hand in his. He pulls them closer and into a practiced waltz. “For how long will you stay this time?” He asks as they weave around the other couples. 

“Angel you know it isn’t that easy.” Crowley tips their head to the side. “You know I want to but…”

“But you can’t. I know. I just wish for once…”

“You know it isn’t safe.”

“I know.” Aziraphale tightens his grip a little on their waist. “I just…”

“I know.” Crowley put a gentle finger to the angel’s lips. “We will figure it out.”

“When?”

“In due time. But for now we have tonight.”

-----.-----

The next time they run into each other, it’s a rainy night in the year of nineteen fifty six. Aziraphale stands looking into the window of a bookstore in a small town. 

“You should go in.” A familiar voice behind him says. 

Aziraphale turns and takes in the person next to him. The voice is deeper now but those eyes are unmistakable. “Crowley.”

“Hello Angel.” They smile at him. “Have you gotten shorter?”

Aziraphale’s eyes crinkle into a smile. “I think you’ve gotten taller. I haven’t changed much since Italy.”

Crowley hums and turns in a circle on their heel. “I think I like this look.”

“I think it suits you.” Aziraphale pauses and turns to look at Crowley with a bittersweet smile. “How long?”

Crowley exhales slowly and looks into the window. “Angel…”

“Was there even a point to you coming this time?” It sounded a little harsher than Aziraphale intended but he can’t bring himself to feel bad. At least, not at the moment. He knew it would hit him when he was alone again. 

“I wanted to see you.” Crowley whispers. 

Aziraphale takes a slow deep breath, doing his best to will away the sorrow building in his chest. “I can’t-” He exhales and watches his breath fog up the air. “Crowley I can’t keep waiting around for you. I need you to decide if you want me or not. I don’t appreciate being pulled around like a kite on a fraying string. I-” He makes himself look at the taller being beside him. ���I know you feel the same way I do. But what I don’t know is if you are willing to admit that to yourself.” 

“Angel please. Don’t do this. Lets just go somewhere. There’s that restaurant down the way. We can go and have a night.” Crowley starts to reach for the Angel but stops when he turns away. 

“I need to know what you want. I can’t keep being jerked around. I’m sorry.” 

“Angel please don’t go.”

“I think I need to be the one to walk away this time.” 

Crowley watches him walk away with a heavy heart and wants to make themself follow but notices movement from the corner of his eye and turns. A demon who’s name that Crowley didn’t care to learn was watching them. How long has he been there? 

Any thought of following after Aziraphale to try and salvage any good ties they has with the angel vaporize. “Leave him alone.”

“If you want that then you will do good to do the same.” 

Crowley surges forward with a growl, balling their fist in the other demon’s shirt, lifting him off the ground. “You don’t get to threaten me.”

The demon gives a twisted smirk. “Consider it a promise.”

-----.-----

Many years and several mental breakdowns passed before Crowley saw their angel again. They wrote hundreds of letters that never felt right and just ended up a pile of ashes. They practiced speaking to a mirror but they only ended up breaking it in frustration. Eventually they took a deep breath. They knew what they had to do.

-----.-----

Aziraphale turns on the light to the bookstore as he crosses the floor. “Be patient. I’m coming.” He says aloud to the empty store. “It’s the middle of the night. Who could need my attention so much?” He turns on the outside light and pulls open the door. “I’m afraid we’re closed as-” His breath catches in his throat. “Crowley.”

Crowley smoothes their hands nervously over the soft black fabric, just as they had that night in Italy. The dress felt like a familiar friend, the silk hugging their skin. They hadn’t worn it since that fateful night. They had taken it off and thrown it in the back of a closet. Now they felt a bit strange wearing it at two A.M. in downtown London. “Hello Angel.”

Aziraphale leans against the door, confusion and sadness in his usually bright eyes.

“I know you don’t want to see me right now but I need just a few minutes of your time.”

Aziraphale takes a step back and tips his head. “Come in.” He finds himself saying, despite knowing he’ll likely regret this later. 

Crowley follows Aziraphale inside, hearing the door click softly behind them. 

“What do you need this time Crowley?”

“I…” Crowley turns toward him. “I had this big grand speech planned but it all seems pointless now.” They give a self conscious chuckle but inhales deeply when they take in the tired look on Aziraphale’s face. They feel their emotions well up and then- “I love you.” They blurt, almost yelling. “I love you and I think I’ve always have. I was just...scared. Scared of what that means. For you. For me. For...us. I didn’t think I deserved your affections.” 

“Crowley…”

“Please... Just let me finish. Then, if you want, you never have to see me again.”

Aziraphale hesitates, then nods. “Upstairs.”

“Lead the way.”

Aziraphale nods and leads Crowley up to the flat above the store. He settles in the arm chair. “Why now? After all this time?” 

Crowley paces restlessly along the length of the room, skirts swishing softly. They then stop suddenly and look at the angel. “I was scared. Of letting you down. Of hurting you. I would rather be smited than ever risk hurting you. I think that’s what took me so long. I wanted to prove I was good enough for you but then I kept messing it up. I know I can never be what you deserve but-if you’ll have me- I want to try. To be worthy for you.”

Aziraphale exhales slowly and stands, crossing the room and standing face to face with the being in black. “My dear…” He wraps his hands around Crowley’s. “You never needed to prove yourself to me. I have loved you since the Beginning.”

“So..we can try?”

Aziraphale gives them a gentle smile. “It took you long enough.”

[metanoiamorii]

❛A DEVIL'S FINEST TRICK IS TO PERSUADE YOU THAT HE DOES NOT EXIST.❜

Dámianus took in a breath when he heard the familiar, annoying footsteps stomping forward. With haste, came the familiar, annoying voice. "Can you believe it?!"

Breathing in, it took his full strength to keep a leveled tone, not show his annoyance. "Believe what?"

His brother scowled, as if he was the idiot present. "They failed!"

"Pity." Was all Dámianus could think to say. He had to hide his smile upon hearing the news. He had an act to keep. "They must have not followed the plan, I did give them detailed instructions after all."

"How are you so apathetic?!" Makjo scoffed, eyes rolling. "That's our father—"

"Your father." Dámianus corrected. "You are his son, I am his errand boy."

"Oh wow, its a misery you proved yourself capable and he saw your potential!" Makjo mockingly threw back, going as far to make a fake, crying gesture to accompany his words.

Dámianus, however, quick to smile, tilted his head to the side. "Oh, does that mean he saw no potential in you?"

It was worth it, to watch the brat's features scrunch and his face to go red. A finger raised, and going to bite back. "You—"

Already walking off, Dámianus tucked the parchment beneath his arm. "I suppose I will go meet with our allies and see what went wrong." Casually he spoke, striding forward, leaning down, pecking his brother's cheek, and using the opportunity to quietly whisper, "Don't grow too comfortable. Many people will come for your crown." Before Makjo could reply, he had already taken his leave, to find better company he could tolerate.

At least the brat was an idiot. He had yet to see through everything. He had slipped up with their father, the bastard caught on at the last second. He barely corrected that.. But he had no doubt with Makjo, the brat would never see anything coming... still. He needed to be more careful if all were to be successful.

♧ Chosen Name: Dámianus D'truiryxr

♧ Aliases:

• Dame

• Dami

• Damocles Aliah Teivel; his human guise

• Your Glorious Insane Highness

• Ali; reserved for his nanny alone

• Funny Monkey Man; reserved for his partner

• Lord Teivel

• Princeling

♧ Known as:

• The Angel Of Darkness

• The Mad One of The Void

• The Mad Trickster

• The Mad One

• The Trickster of Madness

• The Bane of All

• The Lord of the Citadel of Madness

♧ Gender: Agender

♧ Preferred Pronouns: He/They

♧ Race: Old One

♧ Sexuality: Grey-Asexual; Aromantic

♧ Ethnicity: Will appear Kiyese in a human guise

♧ Height: 7'02 in his true appearance; 6'03.5 in a human appearance

♧ Age Appearance: In a human guise he appears in his late thirties, early forties.

♧ True Appearance: Dámianus is said to take after his mother more than his father. From his father he inherited the smooth rounded ears and slim, nearly hairless tail with a tuft of black fur at the tip. As the natural red eyes he possesses. He's rather slim, but tall, with pale skin. He possesses a set of dark wings that tend to drag behind him and are rarely used. For the most part, humanoid.

♧ Human Appearance: For the life of me, I cannot find out their name, so if anyone knows it please tell me.

♧ Key Personality Traits: Manipulative, Cunning, Brilliant, Quick-witted, Vengeful, Well Mannered

♧ Alignment: Lawful Evil

♧ Parents:

• Rihtyxr, father

• Unknown mother

♧ Siblings:

•  Hinvyka, brother

• Kysia, sibling

• Tysie, sister

• Nevzan, brother

• Makjo, brother [deceased]

• Mal'rybos, brother

• Slyra, brother [deceased]

• A several hundred other siblings

♧ Partner(s):

• Misam

♧ Other Blood Relations:

• Tyronjis, uncle

• Kaiuroga, aunt

• Arz-Ler'erso, uncle

• Trik'Rjrkite, uncle

• Au-Zaiur'hka, aunt

• Rons'ta, uncle

• Gazini, cousin

• Ao-Ao, cousin

• Eoau, cousin

• Ny'jsetti, cousin

• Jitka Shirin, nanny, sister and maternal figure

♧ Allies:

• Isfétte

• Jitka Shirin

• Kregznic

• Marzomme

• E'aligesri

• Rohabizal

• Ao-Ao

• Eoau

• Gazini

• Jinx

• Ianira

• Misam

• Mehpijka'om

• Eskrja

• Grumpy

• A few hundred others I haven't fleshed out

♧ Enemies:

• Rons'ta

• Tyronjis

• Kaiuroga

• Arz-Ler'erso

• Trik'Rjrkite

• Au-Zaiur'hka

• Rihtyxr

♧ Brief Backstory:

The eldest of Rihtyxr's hundreds of children, Dámianus always served closer as an errand boy than a son. He grew up fast, without the choice of a childhood, to take care of his siblings. Early on, he accepted his role in the family and gracefully handled the responsibilities thrusted onto him. The older— maturer— he became, the more he would distant himself form his family and those family ties. He treated his family like colleagues and allies and not a family.

Only by the influence of Jitka and Isfétte would Dámianus finally accept his gifts and natural talent as a mastermind, and one manipulative son of a bitch. With their assistance and guidance, he would hone his talent to have power over them. When he finally held a strong belief in himself, he set himself to the task of consuming power. Slowly, he turned the allies of his family against them, buying their loyalty to serve him.

With the dependence the family held on him to make their plans and ensure their survival, he was able to trick them. He fooled them into going to war with Khaalida, and trapped them under her watch. The power vacuum was his for the taking... But he decided to play the long game. He allowed his siblings to fight for the power, and he accompanied his cousin— G'javinizia — on his travels across the multi-verse for a time. To further his own knowledge and powers.

When he finally became confident in himself once more, he returned. He got his old allies in line and began to form new ones. And soon, he finally began to get involved in the affair of Viogia to plant his influence. When his influence was sewn deep, Dámianus created his human guise and entered, to act first hand and began inacting the plans he had started so long ago.

♧ Weapon of Choice:

• Roibac'da, The Whip of Insanity

• Tac'bet, a sentient chain

• A set of chained gloves

• His signature cloak

• His sword collection

• A treasured fan he's gifted to his partner

♧ Classification: Trickster

♧ Power Domain: Madness, Trickery, Illusion, Psychic, Enchantment, Time, Wishes

♧ Playlist:

• Burn, Beth Crowley

• Where The Lonely Ones Roam, Digital Daggers

• Coming Home, Avenged Sevenfold

• Feeling Good, Michael Buble

• Broken Crown, Mumford and Sons

• Leader of the Broken Hearts, Papa Roach

• Centuries, Fall Out Boys

• Everyone Wants To Rule The World, Future Royalty

• When You're Evil, Voltaire

• You're Gonna Go Far Kid, The Offspring

• Hard To Kill, Beth Crowley

• Trouble, Valerie Broussard

• You Can Run, Adam Jones

• The Dark Ones, Karliene

• Keep You Safe, Crane Wives

• She Lit A Fire, Lord Huron

• Control, Halsey

• Castle, Halsey

• Monster, Imagine Dragons

• When The Day Comes, Nico and Vinz

• Last One Standing, Simple Plan

• Soldier's Dance, Adrisaurus

• Final Warning, Skylar Grey

• Angel of Darkness, Alex C

• Meet Me On The Battlefield, SVRCINA

• Night Of The Hunter, 30 Seconds To Mar

• Bad Man, King 810

• Throne, Bring Me The Horizon

• I'd Love To Change The World, King 810

♧ Current Wip: Coming Home [CH], The Legacy of Vires Ius [TSOVI], Mercy No More [MNO], A Rope In Hand [ARIH]; he's likely to appear in all of my wips in Viogia as a source of problem starter.

COMING HOME:

THE LEGACY OF VIRES IUS:

A ROPE IN HAND:

GENERAL:

ON ALL:

♧ Some fun facts!

• He has a pet cat named Grumpy, it's based off a displacer beast!

• He takes a shot of whiskey every time one of his idiots does something stupid.

• He's a man that just wants a vacation at this point, somewhere nice and quiet, a distant beach, without responsibilities.

• He says he doesn't like children, but if given the opportunity he'd probably adopt an entire orphanage or seventy.

• The only people he will possibly listen to, to get him to back down from doing something, is Jitka and Isfétte.

• He knows how to hold a grudge. It doesn't matter how many years it takes, he'll get payback... In an extreme fashion that is probably unwarranted in that degree.

• Given the chance, he would kill 96% of his siblings and family...

• Although he's the source of major chaos in the universe, he cares deeply for order and rules.

• In public he will dress in tailcoats, but as long as he's home he prefers to wear a variety of kimonos.

• The only way you can upset him is by: mentioning Rons'ta in his presence, favoring his siblings in his presence, dissing his nanny, being disrespectful towards women when he's around, hurting and/or belittling children and animals in his presence. And then, and only then, he'll kill you without remorse!

[ladyofmaidensandwine]

Third Eye

Part Four of the All’s Not Fair in Love and War Series

Characters: Dean Winchester, Fem! Reader, Sam Winchester, Charlie, John Winchester, Fem! Reader, Rowena, Crowley

Wordcount: 2,029

A/N- I highly recommend listening to the song Third Eye by Florence + The Machine. It was a large part of my inspiration for this chapter, and a great song. Also, we finally get to learn what the reader’s mysterious mission is, and her real name, I’m excited to see what you think!

Summary: As the reader pursues her mission, she learns more than she bargained for, whilst Dean embarks on a quest of his own- to discover what, exactly, you’re hiding. Old loyalties clash with new bonds, but a deal is a deal, and the price must always be paid.

               It had to be there somewhere. You’d inspected every inch of the room with a critical eye, but had found nothing but cobwebs, dust, and a very frightened mouse. You began to doubt your information- perhaps the map you’d studied and committed to memory had been wrong. Perhaps there was no secret door. For a split second, you hoped that you could write off the entire mission, hoped you could be done with the espionage and the act, hoped you could be the person Dean thought you were. Ah, wishful thinking. A fool’s greatest enemy. You pressed on a loose brick, and the entire wall swung away, revealing a dimly lit passageway, and you frowned. 

                  There were countless chests and trunks and safes lining the walkway, the damp stone smelling of mildew and whispering echoed secrets and names long-dead into your bones. When had the living last walked there? There was a moment when you paused, certain you’d heard something, saw a flicker of movement in the corners of your vision, but as you turned to look, there was nothing but eerie shadows and thick layers of dust. You knew better than to keep looking- things that dwelled in darkness did not take kindly to strangers, and so long as you pretended to believe that the odd shapes in your peripheral were your imagination, you would be unharmed. 

                  You let your hands run over the thick tomes penned in tongues so archaic your ancestors couldn’t even remember. There was one book you needed, the words between its covers so much more than letters or prose. A book to doom or save the world, to complete your quest. If it truly existed, you knew it would be found somewhere in the unorganized mess. The map of the Bunker had proved accurate, and if it was right, there was a dungeon further back in the hidden passageway. What it held, you didn’t know, but if it was worse than the palace’s prisons, built for things stronger than Hell could contain, you didn’t particularly care to find out. 

                 Your time was ticking away every day you spent in the hidden area, combing through every shelf for the one book you needed desperately. You sat alone before an easel,  brush in one hand and palette of paints in the other. The deadline looming over you added to the stress you were under. How could one person be entrusted with the world’s future? Something in you was crumbling, internal barriers of steel and iron cracking. You dreamt of death in a thousand ways, dreamt of eternal darkness behind bars, and when the sunlight touched you, you daydreamed of eyes too green to paint and a child’s romanticized fantasy, of impossible futures. Assassin, Lady, Artist, Spy, Informant. It all simmered within you, threatening to boil over, and yet you could only stare blankly at the canvas. You stood from your stool, and with trembling hands, replaced your supplies. You did not look back at the gallery as you strode determinedly away.

                 Dean knew. He saw you vanish at odd hours, had watched you vanish in a dead-end hall. He knew. And every day, when the two of you sparred, when he listened with a fond smile as you described the technique or history of your favourite paintings, when you stole him away like his own personal saviour before some dignitary or lady could force him into conversation, he waited for you to tell him. Hoped for a sign, some kind of symbol that you weren’t betraying whatever existed between you. You never did. He watched you carefully, your eyes impossible to read, and every time he thought he saw some flicker of regret for the lies, you were distracting him again with a brush of your hand against his. Dean wondered what you were searching for. And when he couldn’t sleep because you haunted him in dreams, too, he asked himself how many lines he was willing to cross for you.

                “Y/N?” “Yes, Dean?” You replied, looking back at Dean from where you’d been admiring an especially lovely oil painting. “I- if there were ever any manner of trouble you were in, you would tell me, would you not? I understand my father has allies that have contributed to the deaths of your family, but you and I, we can put aside old feuds and conquests.” Dean asked, brows furrowed. Your heart stalled. “Be cautious how you speak, Prince. There is power in bloodshed, unbreakable power.” You said slowly, staring at him. “There is greater power than war, Y/N.” He argued. “Not greater than death.” You retorted. “Fate has bound my hands, Your Majesty. The cost of breaking one promise to pursue another is too steep for me to pay.” You stated curtly. Dean’s eyes flashed angrily. “You speak as if the reaper has already appeared before you. Are we not beings of free will? Can we not make our own decisions?” He snapped. You blinked, stepping away in surprise. “I am so weary of the way you make a shadow of yourself, always shutting out any light. You are more than an assassin, Y/N, and I am not my father.” Dean insisted, grabbing your hands in his. You couldn’t speak, shocked at the way he’d seen through you so easily. Had you always been so transparent, or was Dean the only one who could decode you? “There is so much more at stake, Dean. Free will is a luxury I cannot have. I wish I could explain, but the lives on the line are not mine to give away...” You trailed off, surprised when he wiped a tear from your cheek. You didn’t know you had been crying. “You are nothing like your father,” you said, squeezing his hands, “but you will be King, and I will be who I have always been.” “I beg of you, please let me help you.” Dean pleaded, face pained. “This is not your cross to bear.” You shook your head, stepping backwards. He looked angry again, refusing to let you hide the truth with excuses. “Do you think I don’t know that there’s more to you? Am I such a fool in your eyes, Y/N? You may pull away from me all you like, but I have already seen the emptiness in your heart. Are you so afraid of the truth I might find that you would keep nothing but pain to remind you to feel?” Dean demanded. “I am terrified of you, Dean Winchester, and if you were a wiser man, you would be terrified of what I will do. Is that truth enough, Your Majesty?” You whispered bitterly. Dean dropped your hands, blinking away the hurt in his eyes. You walked past him swiftly. “In three days, you will understand. I pray you are elsewhere then.” You said over your shoulder. Dean didn’t turn towards you, shoulders taut as he faced the same direction he had been. You nodded to yourself and left, the silence clinging to you.

                     You slipped into the passageway at midnight. You hadn’t been sleeping. When you weren’t waking up screaming from nightmares, you were dealing with a conflicted conscious about explaining your purpose to Dean. You knew he was hurt. He had offered you help, had offered to help shoulder the weight of this impossible task you were burdened with, but no matter how much you wanted to, you couldn’t let anyone else risk their life for what you’d been working for. You pushed the guilt and the mental image of vibrant green eyes glittering with unshed tears aside and focused. You only had three more days. Three days to get the book, and make your escape. 

                  You almost walked right past it the first time. A plain looking book, average size with a simple red spine, but something about it called to you. The front cover was a familiar symbol. Devil’s Traps were old knowledge. Your heart thudded violently in your chest as you opened the book, flipping past acknowledgements and the foreword, breath catching at what was inside. The only remaining copy of what was written on the Demon Tablet. The only way to keep Crowley, Lucifer, and their followers trapped forever. The book... the book was your salvation. 

              Your head shot up as someone began opening the heavy door to the passageway. You shoved the book into the bodice of your dress and rushed to find a hiding place, skidding around corners and shelves, steps silent even in heels. There- a door in the far back. You didn’t have time to examine it, the footsteps were getting closer, their weight and spacing informing you whoever approached was taller than you and carrying weapons based on the metallic clink. You wrenched open the door, and slid inside the completely dark room, shutting and locking it behind you. You tried to control your breathing as the footsteps halted just outside the thick metal door, wishing you had a weapon of some kind with you. You didn’t dare make a sound until you heard the far door open and shut again, loosing a breath of relief. 

                    “Well, well. Hello there, Darling.” A familiar voice said, posh accent oozing with hostility as every muscle in your body went rigid. You turned slowly. “Fergus.”

               You looked wide-eyed at the red-haired woman before you. “It has to be you, Y/N.” Rowena said gently. There was no love between you, but you were allies against Crowley. “I know Fergus well enough to know he’s already schemin’ against the King. You arrivin’ will give him an opportunity. Yer the only one who knows him and his ways like I do. Yer the only one with enough trainin’ in espionage, and no one knows yer real name or title.” Rowena explained. “I’ll do it.” You said firmly. “Just tell me what you need.”

            Three months later, you’d been captured and thrown into The Cage with Lucifer, courtesy of Crowley. You were nineteen then, and when you finally escaped with Rowena’s aid, you were twenty-two. Your one task was to take out as many of your enemies as possible before letting yourself be captured by King John Winchester’s men, and once you were shipped to a labor camp, a spy awaiting you gave you your next set of commands. Infiltrate the palace, and find The Demon Tablet. You had a year. 

                 By the time you’d been given to Crown Prince Dean Winchester to command, you had but seven months left, and when you finally arrived at the Bunker, you only had two.

                It had been four long and painful years since that fateful day when you’d struck the bargain with Rowena. Four years since since your people had bent the knee and sworn to honor the deal. Four years since anyone had spoken your true name. 

              “This is interesting indeed, isn’t it? This little cat-and-mouse game has been just delightful. I don’t believe I ever learned your name, darling.” Crowley smirked. He was shackled to a chair in the middle of a stone and iron room. The dungeon, you realized. “Why are you here?” You asked breathlessly. The book hidden in your bodice seemed to be mocking you. “The Good King decided I was becoming too troublesome for his liking. I admit, I’m rather curious as to what you’re doing, sneaking about, and here of all places. Don’t tell me- hiding from our Golden Prince Dean?” Crowley asked sarcastically. “You truly don’t know who I am, do you?” You asked, laughing softly. He frowned. “Do they ever come to speak with you?” “Not since I was tossed in here so rudely. Your name, love, if you please.” Crowley growled. “You would find out in three days either way, I suppose. I am Queen of Innisfree, The Morrigan, and in three days time, I will be the one to finally reclaim my people, my lands, my title, and to take freedom back from those of your ilk.” “What is your name.” Crowley seethed, growing impatient quickly. You drew yourself to your full height, a triumphant smirk playing across your lips, a challenge in your eyes. 

                                          “Y/N. Y/N MacLeod.”

TAGS-

Forevers-

@justagirlinafandomworld​

@spnfanficpond​

Dean Babes-

@herfalsegod​

All’s Not Fair in Love and War Series-

@perpetualabsurdity​

[lostsoulaltair]

OnS Chapter 84 - Analysis and review

Well, let’s have a small review before I proceed with other theories. First we have an scenario on which we see Ferid and Crowley talking about Rigr himself about how hard he is trying to defeat the first but, knowing Ferid, he was smart enough to tell that it wasn’t Rigr’s goal completely.

We saw Guren adquiring another dagger or well known now as a sinful key. He attacked Mirai in order to do so making Kimizuki lose control along Yoichi; though Yoichi stopped Kimizuki in order to not make him throw his life in vain.

Likewise, we saw Guren heading off to face the first; the first didn’t take him serious until he saw the sinful keys. There were three sinful keys in total, mainly because Guren gave one to Rigr in order to make him give them power but, as expected Rigr instead of helping, he decided to drink Guren’s blood along his demons (Mahiru and Noya). But before he could even do it, Guren was one step ahead thus concluding the famous “betrayal”. He gave a signal to Ferid in order to stop Rigr proceeding to hold the first progenitor before he manifestated completely in the real world.

Now, let’s have a deep analysis to this chapter. So far, I’ve seen that many have doubtful feelings towards Guren and so on but let’s start by events that occured in the chapter.

Ferid’s thoughts about Rigr

To begin with, Ferid’s always given that sign of having daddy issues with Rigr but, he’s well aware that Rigr was never interested in someone he sired, instead he was interested in the powers of the first. Therefore, it is clear that Ferid is someone who doesn’t enjoy to be in someone’s plans instead the latter.

Ferid once treasured Rigr until he literally discarted him. Which is why, he always tries his best to mess up Rigr’s plans.

Kimizuki, Yoichi, Mirai��s fate and Guren

The chapter indeed held strong feelings when readers saw Guren stabbing Mirai in order to adquire a sinful key. Kimizuki with a normal response, he decided to allow his demon consume him, though Yoichi stopped him before he did something lethal to his own self. 

Though, Guren told Yoichi about his wise decision and even told him to pick the bodies and leave...Guren ended provoking him. Allowing Yoichi’s demon enter in action mainly for the lies they’ve been living up to.

Though, Is Guren telling the truth?

First, Guren is indeed telling the truth about Tomoe’s body, he might have mocked about it but, Guren’s been a good liar but as some say, some lies hide the truth.

Guren did warn Kimizuki that he was going to kill his sister, but why? why warn him about that action? 

NOTE: I’m not justifying Guren’s actions, it depends a lot of the readers about how they see him.

To begin with, Kimizuki’s been awfully honest when it came to his sister, he wouldn’t allow anyone to hurt her which is sweet to no end. Therefore, if Guren came by and tell him that he wanted a dagger inside his sister, would Kimizuki have agreed to help out?

No, of course not, for him the most treasured person is Mirai and has always been her. He’d do many things in order to keep his sister safe, therefore, instead of kidnapping or doing anything else to Mirai, he warned him about his actions, knowing that the latter would lose control and make Yoichi stop him.

Therefore,  is Mirai dead?

It is hard to tell but I humbly believe she’s not dead. Why?

To answer that question, I’ll retord to another question. What happens to the human side of a person who ends up transforming into a seraph?

Yep, that person loses its humanity. Mirai’s transformation happpened three times. A person who accepts or embraces the destructive power of a seraph loses its humanity. Which is something that happened to Yu. At first he was close to lose control and rationality, thus allowing the seraph side of him to destroy humanity but, Asuramaru was there. The same case goes with Mirai.

The first time Mirai was used as a seraph (Sorry even if it sounds awful it is true, she was used) was in Nagoya, the second time in the vampire capital Sangiem; the third time was when Kureto faced Tenri, his father in order to destroy the old system that ruled humans.

Therefore, there’s a huge possibility that Mirai’s not dead. Indeed, he removed the sinful key but he did not destroy Mirai’s heart in order to do so. Therefore, it is a possibility she’s alive.

But then, why taunting Yoichi?

Along the squad, Yoichi’s a person who cares about his friends even if he hides secrets. Even so, the fact he saw Kimizuki suffer, seeing Mirai laying down in the floor, the fact that Guren mentioned his sister, it was a huge bomb for him. 

Yoichi’s been delicate when it came to his sister but then again, why saying that his sister is in the basement? 

To begin with, it is possible that Guren’s last movement before truthfully dying is to detonate a world resurrection; thus, he has given them a bitter hope to forge a new future without him.

Sinful keys, where did Rigr adquire two and from whom?

To begin with, we saw in chapter 68 that Rigr managed to adquire two sinful keys. I’ll develop a theory for this, but that’ll be later. At first glance, it makes people think that there were more seraphs out there, but if we recall that those involved in the experiments for the seraph of the end are the main characters.

It can be concluded that once the experiments were successful back prior to the catastrophe, Rigr removed those sinful keys from Kimizuki and Yoichi, which would actually explain why they weren’t able to transform into seraphs or more likely as to why Guren never gave them a special drug to turn them in seraphs like Yu.

Now, the third sinful key came from Mirai, the other sinful key that Ferid had came from the mysterious boy and lastly, where are the other 3 sinful keys?

That’s pretty easy, one is inside Mahiru, the second is inside Yu and lastly the third one is inside Mika no less but as I said, this will be a well explained theory in the future.

Mahiru and Guren’s real mission 

As I stated in a previous theory, Guren and Mahiru’s main focus were saving the world, forging a future for humankind and the most important thing, giving Shinoa the opportunity to be human. Why did Mahiru do many stuff? Simple, she wanted to give her sister a future on which she didn’t have to harbor a beast. But...sadly, the beast inside and the title of the newest chapter, it just gives emphasys that Shinoa and the First have more in common than they can think about.

Outcome of the chapter

Everything was left in a cliffhanger, of course, we can’t tell if Rigr’s dead or badly injured to die but, it is possible that he’s still alive, just like the first. The first hasn’t been completely defeated, he was sealed for the moment. Therefore, the outcome for Shinoa might be her losing her memories of everything.

That will be explained as well in a theory.

Guren’s future

Guren has no future. He gave up everything in order to give humans the opportunity to stop being puppets of the first, even if he had to take the dark path, even if he had to take the clothes of the villian. The fact that he’s going to die can cover many scenarios, to a battle with Rigr, a battle with the first, a battle against Mika or a battle against Yu.

It is hard to tell the outcome but those are headcanons so far. 

What do you think?

Let me know!!

P.S = I’m not defending Guren or anything. This is merely an analysis therefore, I’m not saying he’s right but at the same time, he’s not completely wrong.

[raspberry-arev]

And there was only one bed! (Snowbaz fic)

I know this is a very overdone trope, but I also happen to be a complete sucker for it. Hopefully someone will share my sentiment. (Also, this is my first fanfic. And first story written in English. Sorry if it’s not as good as I thought, haha)

Summary: Simon and Baz still share a room at Watford. Simon’s nightmares are getting unbearable… and one night, his magic sets fire to his bed. What will happen next will shock you!!1!

Word count: 7.5k

Tags: angst, sharing beds, cuddling, fluff, Baz being a tortured soul

Baz

It all started with fire.

I would assume about two hours had passed since my return from the catacombs. I had been exhausted enough to fall face-first into my pillow, not even bothering to change out of my clothes before I fell asleep. It had been a long day… and by trying to avoid Simon Snow, I had made it even longer.

He was already snoring lightly with his mouth open when I came back. He looked stupid. And he was still asleep as the smell of smoke woke me up. 

I guess I heard him whine in his sleep, too, but I didn’t pay attention anymore. It was an unwritten rule between us that we pretended we didn’t notice the other having night terrors; one of the few remaining lines even I haven’t crossed. Which speaks volumes. I’m proficient at being an asshole.

Yet, this time, I could tell something was different.

Worse.

He was tossing in his sheets, head twitching from side to side, stifled moans getting stuck somewhere in his throat. His hair was damp with sweat. And it looked as if… as if his edges were getting blurry and shaky. As if he was dissolving into pure energy.

Then it hit me, right before I breathed in again, tasting the smoke on my tongue.

Simon Snow was catching fire.

I would rather be in this room with a bomb than Snow as he is losing control of his magic. Especially considering that I was made to be burned alive.

“Snow,” I hissed sharply, swinging my legs over the edge of my bed.

His breathing was getting more and more ragged, chest rising and falling at an incredible speed.

“Snow,” I spoke up. Didn’t really feel like shaking him. That would probably make matters worse. “For Morgana’s sake, Snow, it’s just a dream. Snap out of it!”

Smoke was rising from underneath his body. His body barely looked like a body anymore – just a buzzing, shaky mess, power and heat solidified. A thought formed in my mind, of running out of the room as fast as possible and leaving him behind. He was so not my responsibility…

But of course, I didn’t. I like to flirt with death at any given opportunity. Instead of escaping, I just so managed to grab my wand and shouted: “Simon, wake up!”

I must have instinctively put some magic into that order.

Simon’s eyes flew open and he gasped for breath –

As the bed burst into flames with him in it. Like a fucking funeral pyre.

I screamed in terror before all spells used to put out fires in all languages I know came pouring from my lips. To my own shock, Snow rolled out of the burning bed to my feet, not a single scratch on him. He started slapping his pajama bottoms that have, unlike him, caught on fire in some places, and I just yelled something along the lines of “Alaister fucking Crowley fucking help me”. A Snow-made fire was not easy to tame. And at any moment, I could step too close and I would light up…

But eventually, I found myself standing in a dark, quiet room, the blackened remains of a bed frame right in front of me. And Simon Snow beside me. Still shaking, still breathing too fast… and in his hand that bloody sword. What was he going to do? Stab the fire to death?!

“Do you think you’ll ever manage to stop being a useless excuse for a magician,” I growled at him, “and take out your wand before that primitive pointy stick?”

“I just – I – what happened?”

“You fucking went supernova, o Chosen One, that’s what happened!” Now that we were both safe, I had to resist the urge to punch him square in the face. “As if it’s not enough that I have to breathe the same air as you, now I should worry that I’ll burn to death in my sleep?!”

“Well, sorry,” he snapped. “It’s not like I had any control over what happened!”

“Oh, don’t worry. I would never think you are capable of having anything under control.”

“Why are you always such… such a complete prick?”

“It’s what I do best. Kind of like you with putting people in danger just by being alive.”

His eyes were like an open book for me to read in. I clearly saw the flash of hurt that my words have caused. Hit a sore spot, have I?

My job of making him feel miserable was done. I turned my back and remarked: “If you have no other plans to roast me alive, I’d like to go back to sleep.”

Snow stayed silent. Only a huff of air made it clear to me that he was frustrated. I didn’t even manage to properly lie down before he spoke again.

“Is there any spell to repair the bed?”

“After you have turned it to ashes?” I laughed at him. “No.”

“I bet you wouldn’t tell me even if you knew, huh.”

“Ah, maybe you’re not so daft after all.”

I made myself comfortable in the sheets, very aware of Snow’s look that bore into my back. He did look very shaken up just then. But I forcibly silenced that small part of me that was concerned for his wellbeing – there would be no asking whether he is alright. I’ve made it worse for him, haven’t I? So why would I care to ask questions I already know the answer to?

Just as I closed my eyes, I heard him speak again.

“Where the fuck am I supposed to sleep then?”

Although he was swearing… It almost sounded like a plea.

I gritted my teeth and spat out: “In the bathtub for all I care.”

A second later, the bathroom door loudly slammed shut.

I hated myself.

I hated myself for doing this, I hated myself for feeling guilty for doing this, I hated myself for how desperately I wanted to save him just moments ago.

I gave in for just a small moment and imagined Simon Snow crawling into my bed, into my arms. So warm and irresistibly alive.

And then I imagined us both burn.

Just as it should be.

***

From what I’ve heard, the Watford administration was very different while Mother was still in charge of the school. In a way that there was actual work getting done. She imposed order and structure and put thought into choosing competent staff members. Of course, it was no news to me that everything has been falling apart since the Mage rose to power… But now I had just another fucking bone to pick with him.

As I came back to our shared room the next evening, I expected to see a new bed waiting for Snow and all signs of the fire magicked away. But what was waiting for me there was the same mess that was there the night before. Half-burned wall, blackened floorboards and the stench of smoke still in the air, despite all windows being open. The only difference was that someone had got rid off the discarded bedframe. But that might’ve been Snow himself.

I would have thought the Mage would rush to make his favourite boy soldier comfortable again.

Maybe he didn’t care much after all.

Snow’s barely noticed that I had made my entrée. He was sitting at the table, legs folded strangely underneath himself. The torn, tattered pages in front of him appeared to be his homework, but he clearly wasn’t paying attention to that either. He kept staring out the window.

I didn’t even have to look at his face; the air was already heavy around him, the stillness of an unbearably hot summer day you can’t wait to be over. This is what his magic did when he was moping.

I took a stride to my bed. Slowly, I let the blazer fall off my shoulders. Then I hung it neatly over the unoccupied chair and sat down on my bed, breathing out just loudly enough so it would send a clear message to Snow: I have a bed to relax in. You don’t.

He was at the very edge of my vision now… but I could his shoulders hunch a little. Pretty sure he was gritting his teeth at me.

I could have just looked at him – I had reasons to be convinced that with a horrible posture like that, his back muscles would be visible through the shirt, that was always quite a sight. But I decided not to be completely pathetic… today. There was a time and place for everything.

Plus, Mother was probably rolling in her grave as it was.

Perhaps I could go check one of these nights? Her undead son hunting rodents in her tomb had not woken her up from her eternal sleep. But maybe, if I sat down and told her about the boy I have a crush on, she would rise just to personally drag me into the pits of hell.

I felt my brows furrow at the thought.

Time to pass on some of my misery. Was planning on it, anyway.

“Are you going to clean up after yourself?” I asked in the coldest tone possible. “Or should I hire a maid?”

Hearing my voice so suddenly made him jump. He tried to cover it, but playing cool was decidedly not one of the three things in life that Simon Snow was good at.

(Those were, not necessarily in this order: swinging a sword, taking orders from the Mage and being way too bloody attractive for anybody’s good.)

(Oh, and eating like a pig. So four.)

He turned half-way and said: “I got rid of the bed.”

“Lovely, would you like a medal?”

Exasperated sigh. “Just… just what do you want, Baz?”

I stabbed at the burnt wall with my eyes, then looked back at him. “So this shit is now a part of the interior design?”

He brought his hand up and pulled on his hair.

I kept on pushing. “Maybe you’re used to having your living space look like a slum, Snow, considering the hole you crawled out of. But I suggest you get off your ass and fix it. Right now.”

“I – I thought – look, wouldn’t it be better if –”

“If what? If I did it for you?” I arched my eyebrow. “You’ve got to be fucking joking.”

“No! Just let me speak!” he bursted. Then he immediately took a breath in, determined to keep his composture.

Right. That was not going to happen.

This was a game. A game that could only end in my driving him so mad he wouldn’t manage to put together a coherent sentence. Possibly even cry, but maybe we were too old for that now. What a shame.

“Look,” Snow mumbled, “I’m gonna have it fixed. Soon. If… If I tried to do anything about it, the whole wall could just… disappear.” His voice full of shame, he added: “Things like that happened before.”

Was I supposed to feel sorry for him?

“You really are a sorry excuse for a mage,” I told him.

Snow’s face scrunched up like a child’s before he turned his back.

“But you do keep surprising me with how much worse you can get.”

“You say,” he blurted out.

“Great comeback,” I laughed at him, gaining momentum with every word. “Tells a great deal about your intelligence, just like the fact any twelve-year-old with magic could clean up after himself… but here you are. Waiting on other people to fix your fuck-ups as usual.”

“Stop.”

“Why don’t you run to papa Mage and bring him here? I’m sure that would make me stop. Or you could tell him you’re having bad dreams, he could come and tuck you in every night.”

“You –”

“I imagine he doesn’t want to spend more time around you than absolutely needed. Who can blame him. I’m stuck here with you and I feel my braincells dying every time I hear you speak.”

“Crowley, just – why – what are you –”

“Oh, there they go again. Gone. With every single word.”

“Jesus Christ, leave me the fuck alone,” he boomed, apparently at the end of his wits. (Whether he had any wits to begin with was disputable.) I could feel my lips sealing on their own as he stormed across the room and slammed the door so loudly the walls shook.

I sighed and relaxed into my mattress.

Finally. I had hoped to get a chance to nap in solitude.

 ***

That evening I decided to pass on the hunting. The nap I took left me all blurry and cranky and unwilling to move from my bed. I was sure I had drunk quite enough the previous night.

Besides, I couldn’t miss Snow coming back to the dorm room. I had to let him know how laughable his little tantrum was.

And yet, when he did return… I couldn’t bring myself to make a single comment about it.

Not because my heart had grown too gentle to torture him – as if that would ever happen. It was because Snow looked like hell. He did try to hide his face. But his eyes were all red and puffy. Morgana, was this real? Had I actually made him cry, just like when we were kids?

Maybe I was really getting soft. Because the thought made me feel guilty. Come to think of it… Snow had been having nightmares as long as I’ve known him, but these couple of weeks were positively more intense. He jolted awake multiple times a night, often almost catching me midnight snacking. The circles under his eyes grew deeper, darker. Like bruises.

Snow stomped to the wardrobe and started to pull out items of clothing at random, clumping them together. I was not worth a single look to him. Still, I put on a condescending expression, just in case.

I could feel a strange emotion grow in my chest. He was clearly on his way to sleep in the tub again – moron, he could’ve made a king-sized bed if he had learned to use his power properly – and I just couldn’t stop thinking about… things.

No, not those things. Crowley. More like Snow bursting into bright orange flames again. Locked in the bathroom. Devoured by fire…

It shouldn’t bother me. Fuck. It really shouldn’t. A dead Mage’s heir should be the best case scenario.

But it really wasn’t. Not to me.

I just… I was afraid for his life. I was a disgrace to my family and their values, I was the stupidest bastard alive… But I didn’t want Snow dead. I knew damn well why that is. Deep down. But just for the sake of my pride, I pretended it was because I had worked way too hard to end Snow for him to kill himself. Accidently, in his sleep.

Snow turned to me at the stupidest possible moment. I scrambled to get my expression under control. Who knows if it worked.

“You need to use the bathroom?” he spat out. “Or can I go lie down?”

I kept staring into his eyes, motionless.

Frankly, it did not happen very often that I’d find my morality challenged… since I had none. Now, my chest felt stuffed. And I wasn’t entirely sure what to do.

I didn’t like this.

Snow curled his lip and soon after, the bathroom door slammed shut behind him. There was a soft click of the lock. At the exact same moment, I caught myself reaching for the doorknob.

I grabbed my own arm and retrieved it. I shook my head; what was I thinking? I mean… there was a spell, of course… but even if Snow would’ve wanted my help, which I was sure he wouldn’t have, what good would it do? At the end of the day, he was still the Mage’s pet.

I couldn’t be the one saving The Simon Snow. No matter how many feelings for him I’ve harboured, we were at the opposite ends of the barricade. Actually, no – we were going to be the first to come through the barricade to try and take the other’s life.

I sat back on my bed.

I would leave him be, I decided. Wellbelove could kiss his pain away the following morning for all I care.

If he is alive the following morning, my mind opposed.

Aleister Crowley! What was happening to me?!

What I wanted to do, truly wanted to do… it wasn’t clever. It didn’t profit me or anyone I cared for. But there was, jumping to my feet and going back to the bathroom door. Taking a deep breath.

Then I called: “Snow?”

“Sod off,” he yelled back.

“Oh, save it,” I roll my eyes. “Just come out. I want to talk.” That was not true. I wanted to talk as little as possible. Solve the problem of the missing bed and say little to nothing about it.

“Ask if I care.”

Impatient, I knocked on the door multiple times just a little too strong. “I don’t have all night,” I rose my voice. “If you want to sleep in the tub so badly, then suit yourself. But there’s another way, so just get over yourself and open the damn door.”

There was only silence on the other side.

Then I heard steps. The familiar click of the lock. Two blue eyes looked up at me.

I swallowed.

I couldn’t believe I was doing this.

“So?” Snow asked, wary, but curious. “What is it?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Just to be clear, I don’t want anybody hearing about this,” I warned him, “or else I will find you and hex you. Understood?”

Snow shrugged, and his fingers found their way to the cross necklace he was wearing. I always found it annoying when he fiddled with it. I found it annoying that he had it in the first place. Yet another fuck you just for me.

“Alright, and…?”

It was especially hard to find words to explain what I was about to do. For… For him. To think that I’d be helping Snow instead of making his life even more hell…

Instead of speaking, I just took out my wand.

I knew what to do.

To my defence, it had not been my idea to watch Normal shows. It was Aunt Fiona, who found the Normal world really entertaining for some odd reason, that had me sit through four seasons of Doctor Who. After that, I eloquently explained that I thought it was kind of dumb. She still made me try out multiple spells that she’d invented after binge-watching the entire thing.

Now, I pointed the wand at my bed and cast a spell: “It’s bigger on the inside.” For this one to work, you had to mimic one of the Doctors’ accents. I was more than ready to murder Snow if he had laughed at me.

“I didn’t know that one,” he pointed out the obvious.

“Of course you didn’t.”

“What did it do though?”

I decided to demonstrate. I sat on the bed and scooted back to the wall, further and further, until my legs were stretched out in front of me. Which, obviously, was not supposed to be possible. The bed was not wide enough for that.

The trick was that whatever you used the spell on looked the same, but it got as spacious as needed. You could get infinite storage space without visibly enlarging the wardrobe, for example.

Considering this single bed… well, I suppose the entire football team could sleep on it and they wouldn’t even touch.

This spell was a bit of an eyesore, unfortunately. I could see Snow blinking in confusion. He saw the same thing I did – my legs laying comfortably on the mattress, and yet, the bed stayed the same size. Visually, my legs didn’t shrink, the bed didn’t get bigger… both realities existed at once. It was a bit much for the mind to handle.

“It’s as big as needed,” I explained briefly, not looking at him anymore. “You can sleep here just this once. And make sure it doesn’t have to happen again. Got it?”

“I – I mean –“ He looked shocked. Amazed, even.

“Speak, Snow.”

“Yes,” he nodded. His eyes got a completely bewildered look in them, I couldn’t keep the eye contact. “I – yeah.”

“The blanket is mine,” I informed him coldly. I would not pamper him like that. It was enough that I had just invited him into my bed.

Fuck’s sake. It’s going to smell like him, too, isn’t it? My mouth went dry at the thought. This was probably the stupidest idea I’ve had in the last ten years. Completely off the charts idiotic.

Good thing I had already changed into my pyjamas. Without a word, I lay down and slithered as close to the wall as possible; I felt as though I was never going to reach it. I covered myself with the blanket head to toe.

Nothing in this world would make me confess how nervous I was about the whole premise of Simon bloody Snow sleeping in the same bed as me. As I was laying there, a lot of memories came rushing to my mind. Of being fifteen and dying over how much I wanted Snow’s body on mine. How many fantasies of him getting up in the middle of the night and crawling into my bed had kept me up for hours? Smelling of firewood, his hands roaming under the sheets and his stupid mouth following suit…?

No.

No, this was not something I wanted to bring back. If he touched me, even by accident, I was pushing him onto the floor.

But still, I just knew where he was, how far from me exactly. I listened to him change from his clothes, the fabric rustling, floorboards creaking under his feet. Eventually he turned off the light and lay down somewhere behind me. So far… and yet so awfully close.

There was complete dead silence for a while.

Before Snow cleared his throat.

“Baz?” he sighed silently. “Thanks.”

I closed my eyes.

“Shut up.”

 ***

When I heard Snow whimpering in his sleep, I thought the events of last night had just come creeping into my dreams. This couldn’t be real.

Then came the burning smell. The air got thicker and every hair on my body stood up. It made me lift my head from the pillow to check on Snow.

It was the same as last time. Only I was closer. All the twitching, his body crackling with energy. Almost glowing with it.

My drowsy brain took about a second to know Snow was having terrors again. And another one to deduct that he was about to blow up my bed, taking me with it. He might’ve made it the last time, survived the magickal fire he started. Me? Not a chance there.

I was not ready to meet my fate.

I could feel panic rise in my throat and I pushed it down. In a millisecond, I calculated my chances. Snow will blow up, set me on fire. I die. Everybody in the dorm would be in danger. I couldn’t reach my wand, left it on the bedside table. No use talking to Snow, wake him up. No use trying to get out. He was getting all blurry again… his power made my mouth taste of smoke and blood.

The realisation dawned on me.

There was nothing I could do that was sure to save me.

In what I considered to be my last moments, I instinctively did the thing I wanted to do the most, just to keep the theme of being a pitiful, lovesick fool. Reaching across the bed, I took Snow’s hand. Closed my eyes.

I knew you would rid this world of me, I thought at him. It seemed to me like I was thanking him for the deed.

And then…

There was no fire.

Snow just squeezed my hand so tightly I felt my joints crack and curled around it like a small, frightened child. He was still breathing way too quickly… but the air got colder. The smoke was scattering.

I could not believe my eyes. Snow was holding onto my hand. I felt my pulse shoot up as I took in the view.

Something was telling me there was more. More I could do. And I felt like it must’ve been my destiny to die that night, because if Snow hadn’t killed me before he wakes from his nightmare… he sure would after.

Either way, I grit my teeth and came closer to Snow and our joint hands. I pulled the boy to my chest, all touches soft as velvet. His cross was buzzing between us, just another point of tension.

Snow’s bare skin was feverishly hot. I wish I wasn’t cold as a corpse. I wish I was alive.

Nevertheless, I tried to make the hug as comforting as possible. I ran my fingers through his hair; I saw Wellbelove do that once at the dinner table and Snow looked like he was just about to start purring. I kept my eyes on the black void of the opposite wall, a reminder of what I was trying to prevent here, and cautiously scratched snow’s scalp. Just like I had seen his girlfriend doing it.

He relaxed against me almost immediately.

His hair was incredibly soft. I’d never got to touch it before, although I’d always…

My throat got tighter. I had to stop the train of thought immediately.

I was just going mad because of him, wasn’t I?

As if he had heard that, Snow twitched in his sleep and I brought him closer, petting his head, letting him drool onto my shirt. A giant murderous baby, that’s what he was. And I was just the moron that was stuck cradling him. And I was indulging in it. And I wished I could erase the memory of what it felt like to be so close to him after this moment…

I sighed and scratched Snow’s head again.

At least this bloody thing worked.

If nothing else, it was a good call to try and calm him down like this. He was getting more stable by the second.

“Shhh,” I found myself cooing. This night was not going to get any stranger at this point, no matter what I did. “It’s okay. You are going to be okay.”

Snow didn’t register that I spoke to him. Fortunately. He was fast asleep in my arms. I kept absentmindedly stroking his hair before I finally drifted off as well…

“Baz…?’”

What… What was that? I felt so hot…

“Baz – what the hell are you – what is happening?!”

Crowley.

Oh no.

My eyes flew open just to meet Snow’s. He was so close. And so extremely confused, trying to push me away. I saved him the trouble as I scrambled away in panic. He grabbed his arms like a lady that had just been harassed.

I regained false composure in a bat of an eye. I would have been completely red by now if I had any fresh blood left in me. Good thing I hadn’t drank this time.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Snow.” I made a mildly disgusted face. “I was trying to save my life from a certain pyromaniac.”

His eyes widened. First, there was understanding. Then shock.

“So you… you just… cuddled me?!”

“Fuck’s sake. It worked. Don’t be an idiot!”

I aggressively threw the blanket over myself and turned to face the wall.

I fucked up. I fucked up. I fucked it up so badly. Now the entire school’s about to learn that I cuddle my arch nemesis in my sleep. Snow is undoubtedly going to tell everyone, just as he’s been trying to convince the whole school that I’m an undead vampire that is planning his downfall. (Which is more or less correct, but that’s not the point.)

“It’s not – I mean – sorry,” Snow blabbered behind me. “And thanks again. Not – not for that, for stopping me. Er. Sorry.”

“You’re fucking welcome.”

“Baz – I –”

“That was not an imploration to keep talking, Snow. I’m going back to sleep.”

I felt him sink into the mattress.

When he took a breath to speak again, I thought I would rip his head off.

“It’s just… the terrors. They are getting worse.”

“You wouldn’t believe,” I sighed, “how happy I am to hear that.”

It shut him right up. Didn’t even call me evil, which was a first. It really must have bothered him… I was cursing at myself internally, but I asked anyway: “What are they about?”

“Huh?”

“The dreams. What are they about?”

Snow paused.

When he answered, his tone was flat. Dark.

“Everyone dead. Because of me.”

 ***

We said nothing about any of that in the morning. Who knows what Snow was thinking.

All I did was take the memory of him in my arms that was tingling in my skin and lock it somewhere deep inside of me. I would reach for it, I was sure, at those times when I would muse about how utterly miserable my entire life was. How I could never love anybody else but him. And how that doesn’t even matter because we were bound to destroy each other from day one.

 ***

“Look – er, I’m sorry, I really tried to get hold of someone, but –”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“Sorry, Baz. Come on, don’t look at me like that, I really am sorry. I can go back to the bathroom, you know, if –”

“If I would rather you didn’t set me on fire?”

“Technically. Yeah.”

I sighed. I thought that would be a one-night-only issue. The bed. But apparently, the universe has a wicked sense of humour.

“Why don’t you just tell your little sidekick Bunce to come here and take care of it? I assume a single bed wouldn’t be much of a challenge for her.”

His eyes darted around the room. “Penelope can’t come here. She’s… a girl. That’s impossible.”

“You must be daft as a troll to believe I didn’t know.”

“I – er – I don’t – Penny never –”

“Save it.”

His ears were red as a beat. He didn’t look at me again, just pulled as his hair and stuttered out: “Uh – will you be taking a shower? Or can I…”

There was no need for me to protest. I knew that. I could’ve just refused to share my bed again. That’s what I would do if I wasn’t just a little too desperate and eager to torture myself. But I had convinced myself that this thing – Snow in my bed, but not the way I wanted it, never the way I wanted it – was something I fully deserved. Why wouldn’t I?

I did not deserve nice things, that was for sure.

I did not deserve the golden boy. He was not for me. But I could borrow him one more time.

I made my way to the door. “I’ll be back,” I said, looking him up and down, “but you’re not sleeping in the bathroom.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because it’s nonsense. The spell hasn’t worn off yet, It would be… a waste of magic.” Crowley, how was that making any sense?! I really was becoming dumber by the minute.

“But… but…”

“But, but, but,” I mocked him. Snow frowned at me and finished: “Why are you helping me like this, Baz?”

I turned my back.

“I’m not.”

“You are. Why?” he kept pestering.

“Maybe I want you to trust me for a bit, so I could kill you in your sleep.”

“I would never trust you,” Snow assured me… and I hated the way my stomach sunk to the floor. “And besides, you can’t kill me here. Anathema, remember?”

One foot out of the door already, I smirked: “Well, guess I am just going to shave off your eyebrows.”

 ***

Upon my return, the room was dark and silent. Snow had curled up with his back to the wall, lips slightly parted, his hair an ocean of curls… on my pillow. For a brief moment, I considered snatching it from underneath his stupid face. But that would just wake him up and I didn’t want to talk to him. I also didn’t want him to move away from the wall. That way, if he starts setting fires again, I have a chance to roll out of bed and leave him to it.

I went and took a shower. I really needed it. Changed into my pyjamas and laid down on the very edge of the bed, facing the room and not… him. Good thing I was so tired… I let my eyelids fall on their own, that was all it took…

And all it took for my eyes to swing open again was the sound, the feeling, of Snow shuffling closer to me.

Before I realized what was happening, I had two arms locked around my waist. And his body pressed into mine. Firm. Hot. So fucking real. He let out a relieved sigh – a huff of air against my bare neck. I could feel myself going pink in the face.

This was not a situation my mind had the capacity to process. Snow, I mouthed silently, eyes wide in shock. But I did not speak. What was I going to do? Wake him up? Throw a fit, ridicule him?

Simon Snow was holding me. He did it. He initiated it. Aleister Crowley and all mages that came before me, what was I going to do with this?!

But…

Really…

Fuck, I didn’t want to make a scene. Or wake him up. Or move an inch. This was all I would ever get. Snow… Simon… He wasn’t gay. Probably not even bi. I could never have him. And this was not conscious, and he would feel incredibly embarrassed in the morning.

He was holding me now, though.

I couldn’t give it up.

So I relaxed into the embrace. I hovered my hand over his for a moment, wondering whether I should… but no, no, that was too much. I let it fall onto the bed.

Snow was breathing on my neck, sending little shivers down my spine. I was never this close to anybody before. Never this aware of somebody else’s presence, skin, breathing.

With every rise and fall of his chest against my back, I thought: I love you, Simon Snow.

I wish I could only feel love for you.

I wish that was all there is to life.

 ***

Snow woke up first. He slipped away from me and said nothing. Which was odd.

I almost let myself hope. Almost believed he knew what he did and did it on purpose. Almost lost myself in fantasies of a great secret romance with Snow.

But when I arrived at the dorms that afternoon, I found it clean, tidy… and there was a brand new single bed waiting on Snow’s side of the room.

I ran out and into the catacombs so quickly I forgot to close the door behind me.

Hope turned out to be the worst thing that could’ve happened to me.

 ***

I roamed the underground for hours, trying to get lost and failing miserably.

Seriously, what was I thinking? That I might get a few more nights? A week of snuggling close to the person I was supposed to be fighting? Did I think he would kiss me? Did I think he would touch me?

I was a naïve fool. Simon Snow was going to fight for the Mage, as he always had, against the old families. Against my family. I had to protect my own, I had to do what was expected of me, and so did he. We had no future. Maybe one of us would live, but not both. Not together.

I thought I had understood a long time ago.

I thought I could control myself. Refrain from imagining stupid, unrealistic scenarios.

I was wrong. And useless. Noted.

I just wished Snow had never touched me. I would never forget all the things I would miss out on. It was better when I had no idea.

This was probably when I started crying.

 ***

It was almost dawn when I stumbled back into the room.

At first, I though I was just hallucinating. That I was this far gone.

But Snow’s bed was empty.

He was cozied up in mine.

I got inexplicably angry at a snap of fingers. I slammed the door and exclaimed: “Snow?!”

That scared him awake.

“What the hell,” he mumbled and rubbed his face. “What time is it?”

“Time for you to get out of my fucking bed!”

“Crowley, stop yelling,” he complained. “I, er… was waiting for you. Fell asleep, I guess.”

Waiting? In my bed?

Why, why would he do that?

He had to stop. I would not let him give me false hope anymore. I whipped out my wand and pointed it at him. His hands flew into the air.

“Get out now,” I hissed, not putting any magic into my words… yet.

“You can’t curse me.”

“Snow.”

“You’d be expelled out of Watford.”

“Try me. Maybe I’m willing to sacrifice my education for an easy kill.”

“Oh – come on –” He rapidly stood up. “See? Your bed. I just… wanted to talk to you. I mean, not originally, but now…”

“There is nothing to talk about.”

“I just though… the spell is still working and…”

“And what? You have your own bed. Problem solved. What the fuck are you on about?” I threw my blazer onto a chair and started angrily removing my tie.

Snow kept standing in the middle of the room like a lost lamb.

But when he spoke, his voice cut clear through the room and into my weak, weak mind.

“You hugged me the other night,” he stated. “And held my hand.”

I had a hard time coming up with a comeback to this that wouldn’t include physical violence. So I ignored him… only making it worse.

“And yesterday, I… I hugged you. But you didn’t pull away. You were awake, you let me do it.”

I abruptly turned on my heel and in a second, I was staring him down, face only inches from his.

“You leave me the fuck alone,” I growled. “I never did those things. Touch me again and I break all of your bones.”

“You know I’m telling the truth!”

“You are not. You are a sorry little attention-seeker and nobody will believe you.”

“Stop trying to manipulate me, it won’t work!” he retorted. “And I haven’t told anybody. Never will. I only want to talk to you about… everything.”

“Right. Before you try and blackmail me.”

“No, listen –”

“See, Snow, if there are some feelings you are repressing, I suggest you keep that to yourself. I want you five feet away from me at all times.” Then I spat at his feet. Snow winced.

It wasn’t fair of me. I’ve had my share of repressing emotions. But since when was I the one to play nice? Simon Snow truly was the source of most of my problems in life. Him and his fragile feelings could go fuck themselves.

“You’re disgusting,” he told me.

“You’re annoying.”

“Could you just hear me out for once?”

“Could. Don’t want to.”

“Crowley – just admit it –”

My hands flew to his neck before he could finish the sentence. But he caught them and fought me, even though I was physically stronger than him.

“Knock it off. Baz! I said knock it off!” I felt his magic rise to his panicked voice and make the air crackle with power. I couldn’t help it, I had to step away.

Snow was shaking, visibly upset at me. Maybe he would go off on me. Maybe he would be expelled for that immediately after. Delightful.

Snow’s rage was delightful too.

“I can’t fucking believe you,” he exclaimed. “I hate you so fucking much, you are just evil!”

There it was.

“Likewise.”

“What’s your problem, seriously? Why wouldn’t you just admit what happened between us –”

“Nothing happened, Snow,” I cut him off. “That’s it. Solved the mystery for you.”

“If it was nothing then why are you so scared of having me in your bed? I slept there before, you could’ve just left it!”

“I’m not scared. You are just bordering sexual harassment,” I shouted back. I was positively losing it. Did he… know I was queer? He couldn’t. “Do you have any idea what this all sounds like?! Why would you want to sleep in my bed anyway?!”

“Because I liked it!” he boomed.

Silence fell.

The sky behind the window glass was turning yellow with sunrise.

What… what the everloving fuck did he mean by that? He was just probably trying to use me. Pushing me just to see proof that I have a thing for him. No, never in a million years…

“I – um,” Snow cleared his throat.

I don’t think I’d ever seen anyone blush so much.

“It’s like… I’m not saying I understand what it was. What it… means. But…”

He stepped closer, biting the inside of his face. I couldn’t move. If I could, I would run away in the speed of light.

“But I like this,” he finally admitted, and his gaze fell to his feet. Fuck, it was adorable. “The two of us. Close. Just… sleeping. Nothing else.”

I stared at him in utter disbelief. I tried to accuse him: “It’s some kind of a trick.” My voice was way too shaky though. It didn’t have the effect.

Snow softly shook his head.

“You’re the one who’s always plotting,” he pointed out. “I’m just the guy swinging a sword.”

“I still feel like there is a catch.”

“There isn’t.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. There just isn’t. I’m being honest.”

I wanted to tell him to go to bed, his own bed, but the words got stuck in my throat and wouldn’t come out. Snow, standing dangerously close to me at this point, hurried to add: “We don’t have to talk about it. We really don’t. Besides, nobody knows that we… you know. I haven’t told a soul.”

He talked like we’d been snogging or worse, not like we’d just… spooned. (But considering our history, that was strange enough.)

“Why not?” I asked him. Like a dumbass.

“Didn’t want to, I guess. Have you told anybody?”

“Crowley, no. I have a reputation to uphold.”

Snow nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

He looked me in the eyes again. “Let’s just… try and get some sleep.”

I was confused as in what to do with… well, all this. I watched him get back into my bed and scoot back, leaving me enough space to join him.

“I like to sleep closer to the wall,” I blurted out without thinking. And immediately regretted it. There goes pretending like his suggestion disgusted me. Snow yawned as he got back up, gesturing me to get into bed first. This morning was about to be the first time in my life I would be grateful for being a vampire… if I were not, he would see exactly how flustered that had made me.

“I still can’t tell what you’re trying to achieve here,” I frowned.

Snow shrugged, and the corners of his mouth tugged up. “I think I’m just going to shave your eyebrows off when you’re asleep.”

That almost made me snort.

I gave up. I took off my shoes and laid down. Snow followed me right away. Seeing how tense I am, he repeated: “We really don’t have to talk about any of this, ever.”

“You sound like a broken record. We are already talking about this.”

“Well, we don’t have to.”

I rolled my eyes at him… And noticed the colour of the sky outside.

The day was creeping up on us. But Snow was so close. And… he wanted this. He was all sloppy about it, but he wanted this. I didn’t even know what to think…

“Baz?”

“Mm? What?”

“Could… I hug you now?”

“I just decided. I don’t want you to talk about it.” Yet, he kept waiting for an answer. Honestly, he was just too good for me. Just for him, just this once, I let down my walls, closed my eyes and said: “You… can.”

And he did. Pressed me to his chest like a stuffed animal. I tried to let go of the stiffness in my muscles, to let myself rest, but how could I? He was so bloody hot. (Both in the temperature sense and attractive sense. As per usual, he slept without a shirt on.)

(His cross was nowhere in sight. Just like yesterday, I realized.)

“Your arms won’t fall off if you hug me back,” he remarked.

“Shut up, Snow.”

“Just do it, will you.”

There we were. A knot of limbs, circles under our eyes and deep breaths.

Maybe this really could be all there was to life, at least for the nights and early mornings.

Maybe we really didn’t have to talk about it.

[gaslightgallows]

"Nice is different than good." -- Ineffable Husbands

(I had a very specific set of requests for this prompt…) (Rated E for smut)

(Read on AO3)

There were two separate escalators to serve Heaven and Hell,respectively, but for some reason, only one lift, with only three buttons.There were two theories as to why this should be. The frustrated angelsbelieved it was as a lesson in divine patience. The cursing demons, the few whohad the opportunity to use it, just figured it was one more torment.

Normally, if there was a demon on board, it went no higherthan Earth. If an angel, no lower than Earth. This could be overridden, ofcourse, in unusual circumstances.

And when a demon in the guise of an angel stepped on board,the poor lift was deeply confused. Crowley pushed the button for Earth-levelbut wasn’t altogether surprised when he saw the button for Hell light up aswell.

“Right on time,” he murmured, feeling verypleased, very smug, and very, very relieved.

It was a long trip down to the basement, however, so he hadtime to think, and to examine a few bits of angelic anatomy that there hadn’tbeen time to explore before. “Hmm,” he said, feeling around throughthe light blue shirt. “Ooh, that’s interesting… I wonder how longthose’ve been there?”

He pondered the implications of his discovery all during thelong ride down.

The door dinged and opened to reveal Crowley’s own facelooking back at him, and behind the angel wearing his face, a pack of verynervous demons and one very perturbed archangel. He stepped onto the lift.

“Crowley,” said Crowley.

“Aziraphale,” said Aziraphale. He gave theterrified demons a mock salute as the doors closed. “See ya round,guys.”

Crowley kept his mouth shut until they were safely on theirway, and then he grinned. “Well, that wasnaughty.”

“Yes,” said Aziraphale brightly, “I thoughtit went over quite well.”

“You all right?”

“Oh, jolly good… I’ll have nightmares for years overwhat they tried to do to you, but otherwise, I’m fine. You?”

The same.“ Crowley felt suddenly exposed. Hestarted to reach into his jacket for his sunglasses, but gave up halfwaythrough when he remembered whose jacket he was wearing and whose face he waswearing.

"Here,” said Aziraphale, taking off the glasses andholding them out.

Crowley looked (slightly up) into his own yellow eyes, andsaw Aziraphale looking back at him. No one else could see him there, butCrowley could. He could see very clearly his angel’s weariness, and his worry,and his love.

And he remembered that they’d both been too damned nervouslast night to do anything about it.

Crowley took the glasses and stepped close to Aziraphale,right into his personal space, and Aziraphale made no objection, even though itmeant he was crowded into the lift’s corner. Very deliberately, Crowley tuckedthe glasses into the inside pocket of the leather jacket. Then in one swiftmotion, he scooped Aziraphale up, plunked his skinny arse onto the narrow handrail,and kissed him hard.

“Quickly,” Aziraphale moaned, “we’re almost halfway there.”

They made quick work of the garments in their way and meldedtogether with nothing between them, not even doubt.

“Oh,” Crowley breathed, giddy with his words hitting hisears in Aziraphale’s voice, “oh, you feel good…”

“That’s how you feel,” Aziraphalemuttered, burying his face in Crowley’s soft plump throat and sucking hard tokeep from crying out as he drove into him. “This is your – that’s my – it’s –oh! – how we both feel.”

It was the most delirious and disorienting sex Crowley hadever experienced, and it only got stranger and more wonderful when Aziraphaleunlatched a hand from his hair and found what Crowley had found through thelight blue shirt, rubbing purposefully.

The sensation was electric. He came suddenly and hard, witha scream that might have been a benediction muffled against his skin. And for afew moments, there was only their shared breathing, for the sake of the other’sbodies rather than for their own benefit.

“God,” muttered Aziraphale.

“Mmm.”

“That was… amazing. And weird.”

“Mhmm.”

“And in the lift. Not very nice, for our first time.”

Crowley let out a little giggle that just bordered onhysterical. “Oh, fuck ‘nice,’ angel. That reminds me.” He grinned againstAziraphale’s throat. “Nipple rings? Really? That’s not very nice, either.”

He glanced up at watched in amusement as his own faceblushed. He tended not to go quite that red when he was inhabiting that body,but apparently it worked differently for Aziraphale. “It was all the fashion inthe eighteen-nineties!”

“And you just decided to keep them all this time?”

“I, er. Like how they feel.”

“Good? I definitely think they feel good…”

“Very,” said Aziraphale, huskily. “And… well, nice isdifferent than good, you know.”

Crowley groaned. He couldn’t remember the last time he hadwanted Aziraphale so badly and not been able to have him. (It was only three orso days ago, but it had been a hectic three or so days and he’d lost track oftime a bit. And the fact that he had literally just had him and was stillinside him was beside the point.) “When we get out of here, I’d… uh, I’d liketo… sorry, I’ve forgotten how words work.”

Aziraphale tugged lightly on his soft blond curls. “I’d bedelighted, my dear fellow,” he murmured. “But now, we really should makeourselves seemly before we reach the ground floor.”

“Right. Don’t want to give anyone a show… pity. Could befun.” He lowered Aziraphale carefully to the floor on slightly shaky arms.

To his surprise, Aziraphale caught his face before he couldmove away and gave him the sweetest, filthiest kiss he could have ever dreamedof. He’d had no idea his own lips could even do that,let alone his tongue… “Private shows only, dear fellow. Private shows only.”