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twisted-king · 6 months ago

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OOOO IDEA, how about the OB boys with a s/o who has an ESA (Emotional Support Animal) that they somehow convinced Crowley to allow them to have (because they literally need the animal). And the esa comforting them after their OB 🥺

Literally kissing you on the forehead rn.

Sorry about the exlusion of Jamil, idia and Malleus.

No ideas about Jamil, not sure how Idias would fit in... and Mal mal isnt finished

This is angstier than I thought it would be <3

TW: Panic attacks (Isolating + silent types), narcolepsy

Feel free to correct me if i got a certain experience wrong, I am a studying Psychology major so it would help me with my understanding of anything!

Remeber: ESAs and Service animals are different!

Overblot gang with an S/O with an ESA

First things first:

Lets say you're in second year, so you're dating the OB boys before the OB.

Going to keep the particular support need vauge, but it is panic related, reader is sensitive to loud noises and textures feeling wrong.

You 100% convinced crowley to let your ESA to stay with you because:

he is sooooo kind

you wouldn't let a poor defenseless panic-prone human in an ALL MAGIC BOYS SCHOOL alone would you????

Now with that out of the way:

Riddle Rosehearts

Animal: British Shorthair (cat)

I'm gonna call this cat Queenie

Riddle's Overblot wasn't really something you were ready for in any capacity.

Your usually kept together boyfriend was suddenly some... angry, monsterous thing.

This wasnt the Riddle that got you high quality noise cancelling headphones for unbirthday parties, the same Riddle who you spent so much time learning and growing with. Your dutiful boyfriend who was learning how harsh his punishments were with you...

That Riddle wasnt here right now.

Queenie circles you, nuzzling into your legs.

But its too late, you've shut down. Its hard to move, your heart feels like it doesnt have a beat but the hurt of an ever beating heart remains present.

Your breathing quickens, your knees buckle in from under you.

the dull thud of of your body hitting the slightly overgrown grass of heartslabyul is the last thing you hear as you slowly drown further into your panic.

Riddle, on the other hand, Just came to from his OB, staring at his dormmates worried and horrified faces. He feels weak, he knows what just happened, and he feels HORRIBLE....Oh god.

Are YOU okay??? where are you? Where is his S/O

That's when he spots you, your tear striken face, Queenie laying on top oof your chest, your hands shakily petting her back in sporadic, unrythmic strokes as her face snuggles further into your chest.

What has he done?

Riddle feels awful.

He promised to never be the cause of any panic for you. He wanted to be a safe space for you.

But his need for order seems to have taken over and ruined yet another important relationship in his life.

Despite his fatigue, he hesitantly appraches, keeping about 2 meters away from you. He knows you don't want anyone too close by right now.

When you show signs of calming down, He's there, silently and patiently sitting across from you.

"Do... do you want to talk about it..?"

You respond with a shake of your head.

He nods, you two remain in silence. One preparing for a potentially life-changing talk, the other rocking about as they cradle their cat

Leona Kingscholar

Animal: Corn Snake

His name is Zazu (shhhh)

Leona liked things quiet, and calm.

Thats what made you two work, at least according to him.

But, you knew and Malleus and Magift was a sore subject for him, you were kind of ready for his yearly temper, it caught you off gaurd last year, but this year you felt like you could really stand by his side!

Besides, a year in this hectic world with Zazu really helped stabilize your mood!

Until it wasn't.

A roaring stampede instead of a crowed, screams of terror instead of cheer, and your boyfriend, slowly turning your friend, Ruggie, into sand.

It was too much, too many shoves, too much noise, your friend almost died

You hold Zazu's little head gently, the soft, smooth texture of his scales your only vice as you duck under the bleachers of the magift stadium.

It's there and only there, all alone with your snake that you're able to break down and cry.

Leona groaned as he came to, he knew this was a stupid plan and a stupid decision. He could have just trained everyone properly, spend some actual time with you. He could have- Wait... where were you?

Despite his drained energy, he needed to know where you were. He put a hand up, stopping the chatter of his former victims, attemping to listen in for any sign of you.

He hears the soft mumbling of your attempts to talk to yourself

"Can't even trust em enough to tell me, I knew i should have stayed at home, this is why no one will accept yo-" hisssss

Okay, he had to do something

He rushes across the nearly empty stadium, suprising everyone (Except Ruggie maybe, he's kind of used to Leona)

"Herbivore?!" he stands outside the stands you're under

"I don't... I don't want to see you right now... I don't want you to see me."

"Babe- I... alright. Can I be with you right now?" "no." "I'm coming in anyway."

and he does.

He enters the darker space to find you huddled ong the ground, gripping onto your sleeve with one hand, the other coiled but zazu, who seems to lay still across your shoulders.

"I'll just be here." "Why?" you mumble "For you." he states

That makes you chuckle "You sap.."

Hisss <3

Azul Ashengrotto

Animal: Mop dog

Mop dog named Max...uh... Maxie

Okay so, unfortunately Azul did NOT like Maxie at first

But he got used to him because you two are a package deal

You knew Azul had insecurities, and his own...moments

You and Azul had a comfortable routine, you and him are both realtively particular, he needs a level of order in his life, and his comfort zone is very well kept. So you two kind of fell into a step.

Despite your realtive bliss spending most days in his office or the backrooms of the Lounge. You knew his business was his passion.

You also knew he tended to get a bit... ambitious.

You and Maxie knew to stay away during midterms, it was bound to get chaotic. And Azul gets kind of... gift-bomby around this time... it isn't the most comfortable.

Things typically died down a few days after midterms, so you decided to visit your boyfriend.

On the complete wrong day.

You took Maxie with you, ready to greet Azul after his busier week but instead you find...

Leona? with a pile of sand around him by Azul's vault... Oh no.

Maxie softly appraches a sullen Azul and nudges his leg with his paw.

Something seemed to snap because all of a sudden the sneaky yet loving Azul Ashengrotto you knew was... huge eight tentacles and crazed.

He shoves Maxie away, sending him to the ground (mind you, he's a pretty big dog)

He shoved your dog.

He's stealing things, he's refusing to be "worthless" "weak" "stupid and clumsy"

Everything you've always secretly felt you were... oh no...

Maxie rushes toward you.

You slowly place yourself on the ground.

You've fainted.

Azul comes to, he sees Ace, Deuce, the Prefect... Leona... and you? when did you get here? on the ground... Maxie gaurding your sleeping form.

He... overblotted.

How could he be so stupid?? everything seemed to be in pla e did he not count something or- WHY ARE YOU HERE?

Azul approaches you and Maxie, he dismisses the prefect and gang, solely focused on you.

Maxie opts to lie on top of you, promptly waking you up

"oof... what... what happended"

"I'm... so sorry" "Oh. right."

Maxie greets you with kisses, happily nudgeing your cheek accompanied by his happy barks. You sratch his head "I'm ok... down boy."

Azul apologetically stares at you, hesitant to say more.

You look up to him, sighing against Maxie. Your eyes narrowed "I thought we agreed." "I know I just... I can't help it." "Therapy." "I'll apply tomorrow afternoon, I promise."

Vil Schoenheit

Animal: Poodle

Her name is Georgette

Vil and Georgette get along realtively well. She doesn't shed, you keep her well groomed, and you're usually more on task with her around.

You like to joke that Vil reminds you of Georgette. He claims he is much more refined than your dog. She doesn't seem to like it much either.

He likes taking you out to set with him. He trusts you to behave and know's you feel safe both around him and whenever Georgette is around, he respects that.

Vil pets Georgette like an evil mastermind sometimes? So maybe that should have been a warning sign.

The VDC was fast approaching, Vil is under a lot of stress; he's been a harsh coach, his popularity stays at the same place consistently, he's FINALLY given the opportunity to beat Neige "once and for all"

VDC happens, you're helping the Prefect overlook how things are running. Overlooking the practices.

Vil does absoltely beautifully! and for once, Georgette agrees.

Neige does this old nursery song, and you're more than confident Vil will win.

You leave the prefect to handle the rest while you head to the stalls to buy a drink for Vil.

He deserves a treat after all <3

When you come back, everything seems fine but, the stadium is empty though...

And suddenly everything is falling around you

You take Georgette and quickly duck behind one of the seats.

Vil's distorted voice echoes throughout the stadium, you cannot quite see him but you see the giant MONSTER lurking behaind him.

When he comes to..

Vil is downright ashamed. He knows trying to poison someone is wrong. He knows he doesn't get to decide whether or not someone lives... Especially not for a glorified popularity contest.

And that's when he spots Georgette's thankfully obnoxiously large bow peeking out from behind one of the seats.

That is when he knows he has to check in on you. You are never far from Georgette.

"Darling? Meine Geliebte, are you alright.." You're huddled with your poodle. Rubble is strewn about around you. Your eyes remain shut as you mutter to yourself.

"It's ok, it's fine. you're safe. I-it's okay.." Georgette's fur is soft, you continue to trace little patterns into her well groomed coat.

Vil sighs to himself, relived you're at least ok, but he's worried. You have Georgette for a reason, and he knows just how much progress you've made to gain the confidence to live your daily life and he may have just destroyed that.

He remains by your side

#twisted wonderland #twistedwonderland #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst azul #twst vil #twst leona #twst riddle #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #vil schoenheit x reader

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schoenpepper · 3 months ago

Text

River (Charlie Puth)

Intro: He doesn't understand why you keep getting closer and closer to him, even after all he's done. You don't understand why you love him, either.

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, not proofread it's too long for me to give a fuck, reader is like simp 100%, book 4-5 spoilers ig, not canon happenings huehuehue, kinda disconnected but like, all my songfics are disconnected so idk, i was half asleep writing the latter parts, so it'll be messy for sure

A/N: Jamil my babygirl~ The people don't enjoy my Twisted Harmonies series, but I don't care because I like writing them. This one went through a couple edits though.

Masterlist

Don't run from me river

Don't run from me river, river

No don't run from me river

Don't run from me river, river

Meeting Jamil was the start of living for you.

Coasting through life back in your old world; everyday was a chore you had to get through in order to continue existing. When you got magically transported to a place with magic and new cultures and new people, it was like you finally got back to the same starting point as everyone else.

But seeing those dark gray eyes and long brown tresses, it made your heart beat for the first time.

A beauty that seems to want to go unnoticed, but how could you ignore him when his radiance filled your very being as naturally as oxygen filled your lungs? When he hid in his mask of incompetence and facade of normalcy, what can you do but trip over your own feet and fall? You see him, and the only thing you want to do is to be closer to him, enough to peel back that visage of mystery, to read him like an open book. Jamil is like a mirage in the deserts of the Scalding Sands, however, you know that the moment you reach out to touch him, he’ll fade away right in front of you.

So you keep watching.

You can’t do anything but watch.

You watch him plot and plan and fall victim to his own schemes. You watch him boil together the mess of feelings he doesn’t know how to release. You watch him bathe in his misery, you watch him drown in it.

You keep your hand to yourself instead of offering it.

You know he’ll never take it.

Look, you can play it cool

Act like you don't care

River don't be cruel

You're pushing me away

You’re interesting.

Jamil doesn’t care about much, and he certainly doesn’t care about you.

But a magicless human barreling into his world (literally) at orientation? You’ve got his interest peaked, at least. That’s it. He doesn’t care enough to give you a second glance. The only thing he knows about you is that you’re from a different world. But rumors always spread like wildfire, and suddenly, you’re the talk of the school. Riddle overblotted and you, somehow, are on center stage. In the Spelldrive tournament, he doesn’t know too much about what transpired, but what he does know is that you’re involved again somehow.

You could be useful.

You could be an asset to him, a boon if used correctly.

1, 2, 3, pieces fall into place.

Kalim is powerful, even if he doesn’t know it. But you, you’re Crowley’s little helper, aren’t you? You can make the headmaster look at the problem head on, instead of cowing to the Al Asims’ money. When everyone in Scarabia, and even Ramshackle’s prefect themself, is saying that Kalim is no longer fit to be housewarden, then wouldn’t the headmaster need to listen?

Stay.

Stay for another dinner. Another night. Another training session.

Stay until you’re useless to Jamil.

Don't want to get hurt

So you hurt me first

With the words you say

Maybe you should fall

Hah. You ruined his plans.

He lays on the floor, soaked in ink and sweat and tears, the forbidden taste of freedom lingering on his tongue. Azul and the twins are looking at him with mild amusement, even though he could clearly see they were just as injured, just as tired as he was. But he can’t read you. Even under snake whisper, he never understands what’s in your mind. You’re looking at him with an expression he can’t place, you give him a feeling he can’t shake. He’s lightheaded, he doesn’t really know where to go from here—when the adrenaline runs out and blood returns to his veins, Jamil has no idea what to do.

He hurt Kalim.

He hurt his dorm.

He hurt you.

Is that all he can do? When the chains that bind him are momentarily unlocked, is hurting other people the only thing he’s good at?

He meets your eyes.

There it is again; an emotion he doesn’t get. Are you pitying him? Is it empathy, sympathy? What do you want from him?

There is nothing that Jamil Viper can offer you.

Not when he doesn’t even belong to himself.

That's what rivers do

'Cause when you're in love

You don't mind a different view

Things are looking up

You think it’s unfair how beautiful Jamil is, even defeated and down on his knees. You ignore Grim for a moment to skirt around the black substance on the floor, making your way to Jamil. He looks at you warily, reminiscent of a wild animal that’s cautious, and rightly so, of a strange being entering its territory.

You hold your hand out.

You should know better than to hope that today is finally the day that he takes it.

But he does.

It’s more than what you imagined it to be. In your dreams, the boy that you love takes it with a flustered face and an awkward smile, hands clammy with sweat. In reality, the very first time that Jamil ever takes your hand, there’s a determined look on his face and sludge on his palms. He’s tiredly glaring at you, likely internally cursing you out for ruining his evil plans. With the way his pretty eyes are slightly squinted, brows furrowed and lips curved downwards into a frown, you think it’s so much better than your fantasies.

Because it’s the real Jamil.

And his grip kind of hurts when you help him up, but he doesn’t complain when you make him lean on your shoulder for support. You help him back to his room.

Everything’s over. For now.

But for you and your poor heart, it’s all just begun.

Maybe this is the step you’d needed to get closer to him? Maybe this is the part of the cheesy romantic movie where he lets you in after troubles and tribulations? Maybe this time, you can get to know who he really is.

Strip away the practiced incompetence. Take off his cloak made of calculated errors.

So, it’s decided.

From now on, you’ll find out everything about Jamil, and you’ll give and give and give and give, if only to replace the parts he’d had to give away over the years.

You’re both broken.

But maybe if you give him the parts of you that are still working, at least one of you can be fixed.

Oh river (river, river) don't run (run, run)

Don't run (river, river)

Don't run (run, run)

Oh river (river, river) don't run (run, run)

Don't run (river, river) from our love (run, run)

He wakes up in the infirmary. It’s still you.

Why are you still here?

Leave. Leave him alone. He doesn’t deserve your gentle care, not when it’s his fault, not when he’s the reason both for your and his own injuries. You never say a word, but you redress his wounds so carefully, making sure not to hurt him in the process.

What do you get out of this?

He genuinely doesn’t understand.

Jamil has never been kind to you, no, he’s always done what he needed to do in order to get you to move according to the script he’d written. He’d toyed with you, manipulated you, don’t you understand? He lied, because lying is his nature, because you’re just so gullible, you never even thought twice before believing any of his words.

Why don’t you get it?

You hand him a packet of cookies. Cheap ones from the school store, but judging by the way you’re dressed, and what little knowledge he has of your financial situation, he knows it’s all you have on you. He takes it with a soft ‘thanks’ and opens it. It tastes like cardboard, he can make better ones.

But you smile at him.

Your smile reminds him of the sun back home. It’s unbearably bright, he wants to turn his eyes away, but it’s also so unbearably stunning. And your voice, it’s akin to the nectar of blooming flowers in the spring when they travel through the air in all their sweetness. “Eat up, you need to regain your strength.”

If you refuse to be his enemy…then what is he supposed to do?

Look, darling don't give up

When the water's rough

Where you gonna go?

My heart is your home

You are persistent, if nothing else. In a corner somewhere, in a low whisper that no one other than you or him would have heard, he’d apologized. You accepted his apology. He thought that would have been the end of it. You’d return to the state of strangers, as you had been before the winter vacation. But you’re like honey, sticking to his fingers and leaving a saccharine residue he just can’t wash off. You’re in the cafeteria and you choose to sit next to him, in the hallways where you greet him a cheery ‘good morning’ and ‘good afternoon’, in the parties in Scarabia that Kalim invites you to.

You pull Jamil away to a hidden balcony to escape the noise. You laugh and chatter away even when he doesn’t reply.

You hold his hand.

He lets you.

He doesn’t know why, but he lets you do whatever you want. He never stops you, even though he knows he should.

You show up to basketball practice and every single game. He tries, he really does, to convince himself that you’re there for Ace. You guys are best friends, right? So of course you’d be there to support him. Hell, you could even be there for Floyd, with how close you seem to be with the merman.

(Jamil is a liar, after all.)

He tells himself you’re not there for him.

Even when you run up to him after a successful play, passing him a cold bottle of water and a fluffy towel for his sweat, he swears you’re not there to support him. Why would you? He’s the guy that threw you all the way to the other side of his dormitory.

(You only give Ace an eye roll when he brags about the win, and Floyd, a high five.)

(The best liars fool themselves.)

Nothing is as cold

As running on your own

So river don't you rush

Maybe you should fall

You have…what was the expression again?

Jamil watches on with Kalim from the corner of the court.

Two left feet, that’s it. Your dancing is, quite frankly, hilarious to watch. A mess of uncoordinated limbs flailing about, but it’s certainly better than Grim’s or Deuce’s. Kalim interrupts with a well-meaning comment (rude, but it’s true), and somehow, Jamil’s volunteered against his will to teach the clumsy first-years how to dance.

Ace knows enough of the basics, Deuce is remarkably stiff, Grim is a hopeless case.

But you can learn.

You want to pass the auditions too? Vil’s rather stringent with his requirements, though Rook is certainly not. But if you want to have even a shot at this, maybe Jamil can teach you more thoroughly, one on one.

Sevens, even he doesn’t know what he’s saying anymore.

You agree.

(Why did you agree?)

That's what rivers do

'Cause when you're in love

You don't mind a different view

Things are looking up

One hand on your waist, the other gently fixing your leg in place by your upper thigh.

(He wonders if you can hear his heart beating when his chest is to your back.)

“You should be more relaxed. The song isn’t aggressive, so you shouldn’t be so stiff.” Jamil speaks lowly into your ear, and he feels you shudder but never pull away. Instead, you nod and try to follow his instructions the best you can. Your body melts into the posture he’s veering you towards, molded by his palms. You’re warm, and the way you’re nervously looking back over your shoulder to gauge his reaction makes him think of the stray cats that occasionally circled him for food.

“Sorry, I just, don’t really dance,” you admit in embarrassment.

“Then why do you want to audition for the SDC?”

“Hm? Because my friends are auditioning. They think that if enough of us are in the team, they’ll be able to replace Epel. He doesn’t seem very willing to compete, after all.”

And there you are again.

Saving another stranger, as if kindness itself is melded into your bones. Jamil finds that he was wrong; it’s not just your smile that’s evocative of sunlight, it’s you. Your eyes meet his with a warmth that doesn’t burn, yet touching your skin makes him feel like he’d just come in contact with red-hot lava.

If you’re this kind to everyone, was he just another charity case to you?

Oh river (river, river) don't run (run, run)

Don't run (river, river)

Don't run (run, run)

Oh river (river, river) don't run (run, run)

Jamil pushes you away like it’s routine.

Everytime you think you’ve managed to dig deeper, you’re met with another blockade, each stronger than the last. He’s confusing, because everytime you think he’s letting you get closer (every time, you’re given hope that your feelings have come through), you’re disappointed again and again and again. You manage to graze the edge of his fingers before he flinches away like your touch burns him like hot metal.

And you keep trying.

What else are you supposed to do?

You continue your efforts and hope and pray that one day, he’ll see you.

But for now, you watch out for his lines and redraw them without his knowledge. You do what you can to be his friend, because even though every bone in your body is begging for his love, you know it’s impossible when he won’t even let you be his confidant. You sit next to him and stay, even when he tries to scoot further away from you. Is it healthy? Probably not. You know better than to do what you’re doing. But you don’t stop.

(Jamil is like a drug injected straight into your veins.)

Don't run (river, river) from our love (run, run)

Don't run from me river

Don't run from me river, river

No don't run from me river

He thought that distancing himself from you would be the right thing to do. He doesn’t know if it’s right, but what he does know is that it’s impossible. You’re a thought always running through his mind; a dream flowing through his reality.

When did it start that, even when he knows you’re not near, he still searches for you?

Jamil almost feels relief when he arrives at Pomefiore and realizes that you didn’t make the cut. Almost. He’s not relieved though, it’s overshadowed by a feeling of restlessness he doesn’t understand.

Anything concerning you, Jamil’s never quite understood.

Then you arrive anyway. When he’s managed to calm his heart down, you rev it up again like an engine. Vil announces you to be the team manager, and you agree quickly to let the team stay at Ramshackle at the notion of the prize money.

(You certainly weren’t looking at Jamil when you agreed.)

How is he supposed to avoid you now?

He moves in with the rest of the group, when you insist that you’re one bedroom short and thus, regretfully, Jamil would have to stay with you for the duration of his stay. He’s a liar, of course he knows you’re lying. He can see your gleeful smile you’re desperately trying to hide, in the small giggles that leave your lips when you think no one’s paying attention to you. He can decline, of course, and just room with Kalim instead where he can make sure that the heir survives the night without too much distance.

Instead, he agrees, only asking for Kalim to room nearby.

Don't run from me river, river

No don't run from me river

Don't run from me river, river

No don't run from me river

Your very smart and well thought-out plan worked.

Hm, maybe a little too well.

Jamil didn’t say anything when you basically forced him into sharing a room with you. Now he’s in the bathroom, and you’re shaking in your pajamas (from fear? Excitement? Withdrawal symptoms?), tucked into your cheap cotton sheets you’d bought at Sam’s for a couple thaumarks. It is unfortunate, but true, when you say that these are the nicest sheets you have. Jamil exits the bathroom fully clothed (sadly), hair wrapped in a towel and a hair dryer in hand. “Let me help you.” There is no way you were letting an opportunity like this slip through your fingers.

Surprisingly, he complies.

He’s sitting on your bed while you’re kneeling on the mattress behind him, plugging the device on and getting to work. God, it’s divine, he’s divine—his hair smells fruity and floral, and it moves through your fingers like he’s in a shampoo commercial.

(Don’t be a freak. Don’t sniff his hair.)

It takes a long time for it to dry, but when it does, it’s smooth and shiny and absolutely gorgeous. He tries to get up and says he can put his hair oil on by himself, and you take out the pushiest, most blunt sides of you in order to convince him to let you do it too.

Safe to say, sleep escapes you when you’re next to a five-foot-seven beauty in an oversized hoodie and pajama pants.

Maybe you should fall

That's what rivers do

'Cause when you're in love

You don't mind a different view

Jamil has come to the conclusion that he can’t avoid you.

Perhaps it was a realization that should have come long ago. But as the days pass by and he’s in your dormitory, it only further cements in him the feelings he’d been running from. Seeing you everyday feels right, spending every waking moment with you is more than just comfortable. It’s freeing in a way, like he’d just arrived to the countryside from the smoke of the city and he’s taking his first whiff of fresh air.

Practice is enjoyable.

He dances and he sings, and he can feel your eyes on him, roaming up and down but never to anyone else. For the first time in his life, someone’s chosen him, someone’s looking at him with every bit of their attention and focus. Not Kalim, not anyone else. Him. Jamil might be addicted to the feeling of you so openly lusting after him, almost begging for his attention.

(He can’t recognize the other emotions, but physical attraction is easy to read.)

You desire him. Really?

When he looks back at you, catching you in the middle of your act, he enjoys seeing your flustered face and avoidant gaze all the more. Vil calls for a break, so he stretches before taking the sports drink you’re offering.

(It reminds him of when you’d visit him during his basketball games.)

Jamil lightens the mood by deciding to make small talk with you instead of calling you out on your behavior. He takes a sip and laughs with you when Ace and Grim get in a scuffle in the middle of the dance floor, Vil breaking them up with a well-thrown bottle of apple juice. He watches you laugh at Ace clutching a forming bump on his forehead. It sounds like something he can’t quite place, but what he does know is that he’s dreamt of it before—

He’s…dreamt of you.

Multiple times.

The realization hits him harder than the bottle that Vil had thrown at Ace.

Things are looking up

Oh river (river, river) don't run (run, run)

Don't run (river, river)

Don't run (run, run)

Oh river (river, river) don't run (run, run)

Don't run (river, river) from our love (run, run)

Practice was useless.

You watch the reaction of the crowd in response to Neige and his team’s rehearsal. It was a fine performance (if it had been done in a kindergarten recital). Yet you see Vil seething and Rook sighing like the both of them had already seen defeat before it even arrived. You feel annoyance, frustration, injustice (why should the cutesy dance win when it was poorly put together, nothing but a mockup of an actually talented number?). None of that helps.

Vil overblots.

It’s familiar, though it probably shouldn’t be. The fight saps all the energy you had in your body, and you rush to your friends before the dust even settles, thankfully, no one has a serious injury. They still perform despite everything that had just happened, on the stage that your friend Tsunotarou had rebuilt with just a flick of his wrist. Predictably, they lose.

Well, who said the majority of people had good taste?

(You find Jamil packing in your room right afterwards. You convince him to stay, just a little longer. You wonder what you would need to do to convince him to stay forever.)

Oh river (river, river) (don't run from me river)

Don't run (run, run) (don't run from me river, river)

Don't run (river, river) (no don't run from me river)

Don't run (run, run) (don't run from me river, river)

Jamil thinks he finally understands.

Not you, exactly, rather, the combination of emotions he always finds whenever he looks into your eyes. It was love, a deep adoration that seeped into your soul and made you vulnerable to everything he did. It makes him rethink; was it his unique magic all that time ago, or was it just you fully willing to submit to his whims? No, when did this even start? You’ll likely never give him an answer to that question, but he’s smart enough to figure it out on his own. Retrace the steps, right? All the way back to the first time he met you.

(It’s not quite love yet. But something is there, and he doesn’t know why.)

It’s incorrect for him to assume that just because he found out what your feelings for him were, he’d automatically unravel who you are as a person. It only serves to deepen the enigma; what had he done for you to notice him so early on?

(He crosses out the possibility it might be love at first sight. How boring.)

You must be some tactical genius, and every action leading to this moment must’ve all been a trap. It was as if every step he’d taken since the day you met had only led him spiraling down, deeper and deeper into you. You’re a master at this game he’d noticed too late, you’d already gotten him stuck in your well-woven web of deceit.

How unexpected.

And yet, thrilling.

As Jamil lays his head on your lap, drifting off to a peaceful sleep under the shade of the apple tree, he takes in the feeling of you gently massaging his scalp and thinks of only one thing.

He’d lost to your machinations.

(If you want it so badly, Jamil will give you whatever is left of him that is his. He will trust you.)

Oh river (river, river) (don't run from me river)

Don't run (run, run) (don't run from me river, river)

Don't run (river, river) (no don't run from me river)

From our love (run, run) (don't run from me river, river)

His eyelashes are remarkably long. You gently trail a fingertip over the edge of its fanned-out shape, taking note of the shadow it leaves on his cheekbones.

He doesn’t wake up when you kiss his cheek.

Jamil is a mystery you want to keep trying to read every single moment of everyday. He’s a person you want to keep next to you, even if you’ve already gotten to the bottom of all his plans and ideals. You were attracted to him because Jamil is a shattered mirror, all its pieces still reflecting you.

He was barely existing too.

You saw in him what you know is present within yourself; a creature of self-doubt and hatred, wanting to know its place in this world, needing to know its purpose for existence. But unlike you, Jamil took steps to find a way out of his own personal hell, while back in your own world, you were only ever stuck in the same place. He’s everything you never thought you needed, but did.

Now, he’s breathing.

You wonder if he feels safe with you.

You wonder if he feels the same way that you do. Does he look at you and feel alive? Just like how Jamil was the beginning of your living, are you his?

You don’t need to know the answer.

(You couldn’t fix him, and he couldn’t fix you. Isn’t it great, then, that your broken pieces slot right into each other?)

#disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland #gender neutral reader #x reader #twst x reader #jamil viper x reader #jamil x reader #jamil viper

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the-kr8tor · 5 months ago

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we need a Blob and Hobie alliance for like one thing they're tryna get from R, similar to Crowley and Hobie Of course this alliance is going to last from a few minutes to an hour or two depending on how stubborn R is, I feel like... After the tea has been spilled however they're going right back to bickering... "I made em spill, actually. you were just backup" (Angry bhbhbhhbhbhb noises) "shut up thats not true"

Yay Blob request! Thank you, angel ❤️

Paring: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, Blob the symbiote cat AU, cat symbiote AU, CW description of illness. FLUFF

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

“You're sick, love.” Hobie says whilst he leans on the doorway of your makeshift office, aka your dark room that has your ac blasting and your humidifier blowing right across your sweaty, puckered face. “Rest, you can finish that tomorrow.”

“‘m not sick.” You declare, clearly sick, nose congested, sneeze rising up to your throat. “I have to finish this today so I have a free day tomorrow—!” A loud sneeze interrupts your sentence. The noise finally awakens the beast on your lap. Your typing hand briefly brushes along Blob's slime-like body, black tendrils wrapping along your wrist as if he's trying to keep your hand in place. But alas, you have work to do. “Sorry, Blobie, pet later okay?”

The alien snaps his big milky eyes wide open, disgruntled is an understatement, he expects to be coddled the second he wakes up. He meows, agitated, a deep roar that doesn't even faze you.

“In a minute, Blob.” Blob, you haven't called him that since he tried to bite a chuck off of Hobie's guitar. Speaking of said man, he saunters inside, eyebrows furrowed. Blob would open his maw at the close proximity of Hobie, but the alien has been around you two long enough to notice what's happening. Blob's big eyes flick between your sickly form to Hobie's concerned ones.

“At least drink some meds.” The foil packaging crinkles as he places it next to your laptop. A second later a cup of water that has you looking up at him through the thick fog of fever. “Drink—”

“I'm not sick.” You stubbornly huff.

Hobie sighs, palm reaching down to your clammy forehead. Within a second, your fever seeps through his skin, searing heat making him flinch away and has him more worried. “Love, drink, please.”

Blob, ever the sweetheart (just for you) leaps up to your keyboard, blank eyes staring at you intensely. He opens his mouth, jagged rows of teeth showing, long snake-like tongue flicking from side to side.

“Are you threatening to eat me, Blob?” You sniff, glaring at the blobby alien in front of you. “I'm working right now, so can you two please give me some space?” Your tone isn't even angry nor convincing. Yet, the two rivals move away from your feverish form.

Blob shuts his large mouth, hopping away, looking back once before following Hobie outside. Hobie keeps a close eye on you through the open door while he grows wary of the alien that is conveniently near biting distance from his ankles.

Leaning on the back of the settee, arms folded over his chest, Hobie thinks of a way to get you to finally rest. Or at least take some medicine. To his surprise, Blob hops right next to him. He sits all prim and proper on the back of the couch, white eyes narrowed at your hunched form.

Hobie nods once at the so-called cat, “you got any ideas?”

Blob doesn't hiss, or even scowl at him. Instead, he meows lowly, still vastly different from a regular cat's tone but close to it.

“You've got an idea then?”

Blob's black gooey tendrils inch closer to Hobie, to which he flinches away. “No, never in a million fuckin' years. Get a better idea, you parasite.”

Blob chirps, a sound that Hobie has never heard the alien make. He thinks you've never heard of it too. He blinks, smirking. “Can you do that again?”

With a Cheshire cat smile, Blob looks at Hobie mischievously.

—

You have no idea how you got into bed with the covers properly tucked around you. A minute ago you were cooing at the chirping Blob, his eyes were so cute that you forgot that he can wrap you around his tendrils. With your vision filled with nothing but black gooey skin, you blink and suddenly you're in bed with a thermometer in your mouth.

Hobie checks your temperature whilst you wrap your mind around at what happened. Blob is on your chest, guarding over you as if you can move under the thick blankets.

“38.5.” Hobie winces. Eyes full of worry, Blob sports the same look, he lays down on top of you, blinking slowly, tails tucked under him.

You frown, feeling the heat under your eyes, “I'm sick.” Finally admitting your illness.

“I know you are, love.” Hobie brings his palm over your cheek, his cool skin grants you reprieve from the fever clawing at your body. You lean into his touch, nodding as he gives you your medicine. “Sleep, we'll be 'ere when you wake up.”

As you drift off to sleep, head laying on Hobie's thigh while he soothingly rubs your head, Blob purrs on top of you, tongue peeking between his sharp teeth. His eyes says it all, “no thank you?”

“You were a good distraction,” Hobie whispers.

Blob stands up, eyes narrowed into slits, huffing and puffing angrily.

“Fine, thank you.” Hobie scoffs the words out. Blob makes biscuits on top of the thick blanket, nails purposely digging into the cloth, stitches coming undone. “C’mon, that's my favourite, you fuckin' gremlin.”

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am-i-obsessed---maybe · 1 year ago

Text

Dark Glasses - Crowley x Reader (Platonic)

Sooooo, Nanowrimo was a bust, but you know what that means?

We're back with the fanfiction train! Choo Choo!

also reminder that requests are open! (just check out my guidelines first)

Wordcount: 1.9k

Summery: Friends support friends even when your friend is actually a demon but especially when your demon friend just got shot down by his long time angel crush.

The same man has been coming to your bar since you started working there five years ago. The other bartenders told you he's been around since you opened 20 years ago, he never gives his name and comes in with dark glasses no matter what time of day it is or whether the sun is out or not. Although unlike most regulars he doesn't have a specific drink he always orders. Sometimes it’s a rum and coke, sometimes he goes for a more classy bottle of wine, sometimes he'll even order a straight shot of liquor but he always tips well.

You call him 'Dark Glasses'. You could have called him redhead seeing as his hair was the most vibrant red you'd ever seen. There was no way it was natural but that wouldn't be fair to him. Some people can get very touchy about red hair.

Instead you called him dark glasses.

Dark Glasses came into your bar one day, sauntering over in the late afternoon, not an unnatural occurrence. The bar was basically empty with the exception of two friends that got a head start on the night's drinking.

Dark Glasses sat down and you could feel the loss and pain flowing off of him, not like how you can tell with people. It wasn't his expression or body language that gave you the impression though, it was as if you felt his emotions. As if they were ebbing off of him.

"Give me whatever's strongest" He said and you nodded, something told you he needed to drown out his sorrows.

“One bone dry martini coming right up” you said.

As you mixed his drink you periodically looked over at him, the poor guy was thrown over the bar as if it was the only thing keeping him from crying.

You walked over to him and handed him the drink.

"There you go sir" You said and he perked up only slightly, took the glass from you and downed the entire thing in one go.

"I'll need another one" He said, pushing the glass back in your direction.

You stared at him, "That, that was a glass of straight vodka. three shots of vodka." You said, stunned.

"I thought you said this was a martini" The man mumbled.

"Yes, the glass is coated in a little bit of vermouth, that's what makes it so dry... You just downed three shots of vodka like it was nothing" You said.

"Got a high tolerance, now can I get another one please?" He asked and honestly you were a bit too stunned to say no.

After two more though you knew he was done. Normal people, even those with a high tolerance like he apparently has can't drink more than 6 shots of vodka without getting drunk and he was drunk.

Mind you, not the fun kind he normally is. You're familiar with Dark Glasses when he's drunk. He slurs and gets very bold and flirty as well as clumsy, though not touchy which always surprised you. Now though, now was different. Now he was a sad drunk. Moping all around the bar. He could barely walk, instead he swayed from side to side and his flirting, something you could usually count on to raise your spirits, became lowley grumbling.

"I think that's enough" You said, taking what little remained of his third glass and pouring it out.

"What? No! I'm fine" He tried to say but struggled with the last word.

"No, you're drunk. You can stick around but the only thing you're getting is water" You told him and he made a face that almost looked like a snake trying to give puppy dog eyes.

"Come on Y/N, you know me, I can handle anything" He said, pulling you by the sleeve over the bar.

He's never initiated contact like that before. Not with anyone.

"Alright, that's enough. Go home" You told him and he deflated.

"Can't," He said.

"What do you mean can't?" You asked.

He had a home. He'd told you about it. A nice flat in mayfair with lots of plants.

"Can't. Don't live there anymore" He said and you looked genuinely surprised. Is that what has him so down in the dumps? Was he evicted? Did the bank repossess his apartment?

"What about that bookseller friend of yours in Soho? Can't you stay with him?" You asked and he shook his head.

"He's gone. He went to heaven" Dark Glasses said.

"Oh I'm so sorry" You said, maybe that was why he was so down.

"How about this, I finish my shift in a couple hours, you can crash on my couch" You told him. You'd never have said this to anyone else but you knew Dark Glasses. You knew he was sweet though he hated when someone pointed it out and you knew he needed help.

"You would do that for me?" He asked and you smiled.

"What can I say, you tip really well" You joked and managed to get a chuckle out of him before he went back to moping.

A few hours later He was leaning on you as you walked him out of the bar. Somehow still just as drunk as when you'd taken away his last drink.

"Wait, wait, wait, how are we going to your place?" He asked.

"Car" you said. He wasn't heavy but keeping him walking in a somewhat straight line out was difficult.

"My car?" He asked.

"No. You are not driving. My car" You told him and led him over to where your slightly beat up old car was parked.

"Now come on, in you go" You said, trying to help him in. It took a minute but he managed to shimmy in comfortably enough for someone with very little control of their extremities.

"I don't like this car" He complained.

"Too bad" you told him, got in and drove off.

"Why are you helping me? You're never this nice" He slurred.

"You're never this mopey" You retorted.

"Yeah but, but..." He trailed off.

"We're almost there just don't fall asleep the last thing I need is to try to drag you up to my place" You said and he nodded.

"Don't worry, I won't, I can sober up whenever I want" He said and you shook his head. Sometimes Dark Glasses said the craziest things when he was drunk. Sometimes he'd say them when he wasn't drunk but that was neither here nor there.

You eased him through the door to your flat and he smiled.

"You have plants, very nice Y/N" He said and you smiled.

"Thank you now you go sit down before you collapse all over my floor" You told him and he did as he was told, sitting down and then sprawling himself over your couch.

"He used to do this too, when I was too drunk, he'd bring me in and tell me to sit" he slurred and you turned to him, confused.

"Who?" You asked.

“My angel” Dark Glasses said. You came over to him with a glass of water.

"It's hard, when someone dies. Grief is a powerful thing" You told him and he shrugged.

"I wouldn't know" he said, slurping down the contents of the cup.

"Just sleep. You'll feel better in the morning" you told him, spreading a blanket over him and placing the cup on the coffee table.

"Try to make it to the toilet if you puke" You told him and went to bed yourself.

Crowley had never been hungover. He'd always sober up before it got to that point but this time he didn't. Even the thought of sobering up made him think of his drinking sessions with Aziraphale.

But Aziraphale left. He went to heaven and left Crowley to drown out his sorrows the human way.

The first thing you woke up to was the loud sound of someone vomiting.

"Please god let him have made it to the toilet" You said to yourself, throwing off the blacket and going to check on your mysterious guest.

She must have thought it would be funnier to scare you because Crowley in fact made it to the toilet. Luckily.

Crowley was practically puking his life out, once it was all out, at least for now, he heaved.

"How do humans do this?" He asked. He had half a mind to miracle it all away.

"With years of practice" You said, making your presence known.

"Ahhh!" He shouted, falling back on his butt only to rub at his head and groan, "Ugh". Now everything hurt even more than before.

He still had his sunglasses on, though the bathroom lights were off and the sun hadn’t even come up yet.

"I always thought you were pretty strange but now I'm starting to wonder if you're sane at all" You said.

"If you're worried I'll go crazy and attack you, you needn't be." He said quietly and you rolled your eyes.

"As if you could with the way you are right now, you look like you've been dragged through hell" You said and Crowley looked back down at the toilet.

"Oh you have no idea" He said.

At this point he was simply sitting criss-crossed in front of the toilet so you sat down on the bathroom floor next to him. Checking the time, it had only been a few hours.

"I know you've gotten drunk before, have you seriously never been hungover?" You asked.

"Never" He said.

"I don't think I believe you" You said.

“Well it’s the truth” He said.

“You are one strange specimen Glasses” You said.

“Glasses?” He asked.

“Oh, um, you never told any of us at the bar what your name was so we just called you Dark Glasses… cause you’re always wearing your dark—”

“Yeah I get it” He said. “It’s Crowley by the way”

“That’s quite the original name” You said.

“Used to be Crawley but that was a bit too” He made a hissing noise with his tongue and you noticed it was thin and split, like a snake’s.

“You know sometimes I wonder if you’re even human with all the strange shit that comes out of your mouth” You joked and Crowley laughed and then smirked.

“You wanna know a secret?” He asked.

You looked at him skeptically. “Do I?” You asked.

He shrugged, “It’s up to you really” He said.

“Then, yeah I guess”

“I’m a demon” He said.

You chuckled.

He didn’t laugh.

“No”

“Yes”

“I was the serpent of eden” He said, smiling.

“That’s not– no… cause that would mean that god” He nodded, “And satan” He nodded again.

“The world almost ended four years ago” He says. It’s almost as if seeing your reaction is helping him get his spirits back.

“You can’t just drop a bomb like that and move on!”

…

“How come it didn’t?” You asked.

“We convinced the antichrist that the earth was actually pretty nice” He said.

“We?” You asked.

“Aziraphale… and I” He said, his voice dwindling.

“He’s that bookseller friend of yours right?” You asked and Crowley nodded.

“He’s the one that died, I’m so sorry Crowley” You said, putting a comforting hand on Crowley’s shoulder.

“He didn’t die.” Crowley said.

You looked at him, “But you said he went to heaven” “He’s an angel, my angel” Crowley said, his voice wasn’t a white, it was more just, sad and full of grief.

“He went off to become the new supreme archangel of all of heaven” Crowley said, this time he was in fact whining.

“Well then, he could come back” You said but Crowley shook his head.

“Not after he said he forgave me” He said.

“Forgave you for what?” “Kissing him,” Crowley said sorrowfully.

Oh.

“I’ll go get us both some wine” You said.

#good omens x reader #crowley x reader #gn reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #good omens 2 #aziraphale x crowley #platonic reader insert #good omens crowley x reader

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certifiablyinsanez · 1 year ago

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I’ve already touched on this but I can go into greater detail (AND I WILL):

Crowley is a bitch ass liar and God of Simps, you CANNOT tell me he didn’t set nearly everything up in 1941 to have the most memorable date with his angel. He saves Azi at the church and says “lift home?” Where do they go next??? Not the bookshop. Dastardly demon had ZERO intention of bringing Aziraphale straight home after the church. He takes Aziraphale to the theater, which he know he loves. You will NOT convince me that he picked up that massive suitcase of smashed liquor and didn’t notice the contents were destroyed? He didn’t hear the broken glass? He displays it to Mrs. H and let’s himself be chewed out instead of playing it off. He could’ve easily been like, “Sorry Mrs. H, I’ve got more in the trunk, be right back”, leave the room with the suitcase, miracle the liquor to be fixed and come back. Nope. He let himself stand there like a helpless puppy while Mrs. H went on a rant. I’d also bet my kneecaps that the magician for the show that night was arrested through a bit of ✨demonic intervention✨. And again, I WILL NOT BE PERSUADED OTHERWISE that Crowley didn’t influence Mrs. H to let Aziraphale perform. Because there is NOT A CHANCE ON GODS GREEN EARTH that that cantankerous woman saw this random man pull out a hanky and wave it around talking about “pReStiDigiTatiOn” and by her own volition went “yes this man is a perfect replacement, he is clearly an expert”. Then later at the bookshop he’s all “thanks for getting me off the hook ☺️👉🏻👈🏻” like Crowley 100% liked being the damsel in distress this time. I swear this little snake was making everything as convoluted as possible just to keep the night going. He sits down, legs in different time zones, and opens his jacket, performing what I call a Victorian strip tease, his eyes peering over his shades while he praises his angel. Grumpy little demon unable to hide his smile while his Aziraphale commits acts of great silliness. I KNOW he felt on top of the world until his goofy angel asked him to shoot him in the face. 🥲

Crowley you are so whipped sweetheart we see right through you. ❤️❤️❤️

#Crowley is so whipped you might as well put him on top of a pie #he’s so down bad that he’s forgotten how to get up #I’m almost concerned about what their honeymoon would be like #good omens #aziracrow #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #aziraphale x crowley #good omens 2 #crowly x aziraphale

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vidavalor · 1 month ago

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Alright, I have two questions: Would Aziraphale be considered a dandy? And would Crowley be considered a dandy as well?

Hi @rougeside4! 💕Interesting question! I have macaroni & cheese tonight, if you'd like some. Felt appropriate for this ask for no particular reason. 😊 Instead of my take on whether or not they would be, how about I do you one better and offer up some idea of what Crowley and Aziraphale's take on dandies might be?

There is a S1 scene in which dandyism is referenced in the wordplay but it very much sounds like Crowley would resent being called a dandy because Aziraphale is using it to tease him alongside other words that Crowley definitely isn't.

The dandy-related word is velocipede.

On the "perfectly normal velocipede" scene with a related detour to the use of the word normal in wordplay in 2008 and to... Before the Beginning?!... under the cut.

In different scenes in both seasons to date, Crowley and Aziraphale have scenes where they are flirting with one another using a classic form of sexual euphemism: modes of transportation. Horses, cars, bicycles, and the like are made into a metaphor for one another. In S2, Aziraphale makes The Bentley into a sexual metaphor for Crowley but, back in S1, The Bentley was actually Aziraphale in the scenes following Anathema being hit by the car. Instead, Aziraphale spent much of the aftermath flirting with Crowley by way of using Anathema's bicycle to stand in for Crowley.

This all begins when Anathema's bike is damaged in the accident and Aziraphale uses his magic to fix it. The fixed mode of transportation becomes a metaphor for Aziraphale's healed ride of a partner. By the time they're all in the car, Crowley is joking with Aziraphale about him using miracles-- actual angelic magic-- to fix the bicycle. He gets Aziraphale's joke about the bike being him and pokes fun at how Aziraphale used Heavenly miracles to fix the human-made bike and miracles of a more human sort 😉 on the supernatural Crowley.

"Oh, Lord. Heal this bike," jokes Crowley. (Poor Anathema in the backseat like wtf is happening 😂).

To which Aziraphale replies with some pun-happy transportation innuendo, of course. "I got carried away."

Apparently loves himself a good car pun, the angel does. From the S2 car innuendo scene: "I'll be very, very careful."

He'll be very careful with the car and then very full of metaphorical car upon his return if you give him the keys, Crowley... 🤭

Anyway, so, they get to the cottage where Anathema is staying and, as we know, Anathema notices that her bike has changed. Unlike the guy in the graveyard in S2 who was fine with an upgrade and a Scottish flag added to his phone, Anathema insists that her bike didn't have gears before. She is correct; it didn't. Aziraphale has miracled them onto the bicycle as part of his joke to Crowley.

Gears are a very Crowley-esque part of a bicycle. Gears, in a transportation sense, are a set of interconnected wheels that affect the speed of an engine, right? They're related to the crank of a bicycle. Crowley's signature thing is a crank tool and, after S2, we know that when he and Aziraphale first met, they cranked up the gears to start the engine of the universe together.

Bicycle gears like those Aziraphale put on Anathema's bike include a silver belt and chains-- like Crowley's snake belt and necklaces/tie-- and the word gear can be slang for clothing and accessories... but also for personal items or equipment as well.

The bicycle that is metaphorically Crowley having gears allows the rider to have more control over the ride, including over its speed.

So, Aziraphale miracles Anathema's bike back to how it was after she notices and tries to play it off as if Anathema is just disoriented from the fall, saying that her bike-- which is still, even without the gears, metaphorically Crowley here-- is "a perfectly normal velocipede."

What could that mean and what could it have to do with dandyism?

Normal was (disgustingly) slang for a long time for heterosexual. The word also breaks down to nor mal or not mal, so... not bad.

Bad has one of the wildest etymological histories of any word as it comes from the Old German baeddel and it originally meant-- olden days phrasing here-- "a womanish man." Crowley seems to very much love the word bad and happily uses it as self-descriptive, as we saw in 2008, when he used it twice in reference to himself while flirting with Aziraphale, such as in:

The same 2008 scene in 1.01 also has Crowley making a joke around the word normal when he talks about raising the antichrist with Aziraphale. He's joking with Aziraphale that the two of them being so queer makes them hilarious choices to raise the son of Thaddeus Dowling.

The word normal comes from the Latin normalis and norma, which meant the tool used to make right angles-- a carpenter's square. Square is circa 1940s-1960s slang for being out of touch and uncool. Being normal is being a carpenter's square and a carpenter's square is a Jesus freak.

On one level, Crowley is talking about how the kid won't be good or bad, just a typical person, because he and Aziraphale will cancel each other out in terms of influence. On the other level, he appears to be dryly joking about the Republicans they're going to go live with and how a guy like Thaddeus would view sexual orientation as a learned thing and saying that he and Aziraphale are so queer that they're probably going to cancel that out each other's "influence" in that way, too, and wind up raising another straight, repressed Republican.

So, that's normal. What about velocipede?

Velocipede is Old French and translates as "swift foot"-- a little dig at Crowley driving too fast. However, it's also the name for the original versions of the bicycle. The nickname for the velocipede was the dandy-horse, on account of what group of people were most enthusiastic about it.

A "perfectly normal velocipede", then, is a politically conservative, heterosexual, not at all into gender fuckery, clunky, old dandy.

So... basically, the complete opposite of Crowley. 😂 As Aziraphale's evident delight in teasing Crowley with tongue firmly in cheek shows here:

Crowley protests by declaring himself the much more modern sense of the term: "Bicycle."

Bicycle has a simple root-- it just literally means two wheels. Crowley correctly identifying Anathema's bike on the surface and, under it, self-identifying himself as the complete opposite of a perfectly normal velocipede... as Aziraphale well knows.

Technically, if we're talking about the literal bicycle, Aziraphale is not using an incorrect word, just an outdated one. A velocipede is also the word for a wheeled mode of transportation that is powered by its rider. Bicycles and tricycles are types of velocipedes but language has developed away from using velocipede entirely. Nowadays, we're much more likely to say something is "like a bicycle" or "a kind of bicycle" than we would be to say that something is a velocipede. I tend to think that Aziraphale is being entirely cheeky here and definitely would say bicycle is the more accurate metaphor for Crowley here and used velocipede to tease him. I see the dandy horse reference as being tongue-in-cheek but if your heart is set on the idea that they view one another as one then you could probably use this to justify it. It's a little interpretable.

Personally, I think that Crowley isn't fond of being labeled a dandy. There's a difference between someone with an appreciation for beauty and a sense of refinement and someone who is a dandy and Crowley strikes me as more the former than the latter. I could see Crowley disliking the label because of the aspects of it that are a bit vapid and materialistic. For Aziraphale to jokingly call Crowley a dandy in a list of other things that he is definitely not could be seen as him commenting on how Crowley is not shallow and is too genuine to be labeled as one. I think, in the cutely silly way of this scene, it is actually quite sweet. 😊

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #good omens meta #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable husbands speak #etymology

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agoodomenssideblogiguess · 1 year ago

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I keep seeing posts about how snakes have bad vision and Crowley probably can't see the stars and that made me so sad. So instead of answering emails at work this morning, I looked up videos about snakes to figure out how they see stuff and I learned so much and the implications of these facts are ABSOLUTELY DELIGHTFUL:

(I'm putting it all under the cut because the post got long lol)

1. Snakes with vertical slits in their eyes are nocturnal.

2. Research suggests that snakes have the necessary receptors in their eyes to see mostly blues and greens (and any colors that are made up of those two) in the daytime and monochromatic (gray-scale essentially) in the night time. For reference, human color receptors in the daytime are red, green, and blue. For night it's monochromatic as well.

3. Some snakes have 'heat pits' along their pretty (pretty is subjective not a fact sorry) mouths that help them sense infrared light. The visual and infrared cues are overlaid in the optic parts of the brain. (Truly this is the coolest thing I've learned about snakes and I highly recommend reading the Wikipedia page about it, it is SO COOL). The heat pits work in such a way that if they don't cool down the receptors back to a 'thermal neutral' state (usually by providing extra oxygen to them) the snake will see afterimages even if whatever was giving off the infrared is removed.

4. Snakes smell with their tongues by picking up odor particles and then putting their tongue into little holes along the roof of their mouth where they have this thing called the "Jacobson's organ" that has receptors that can register the smells. To give you a sense of how sophisticated this sense of smell is, apparently snakes can tell which eggs have developing embryos in them in order to avoid them because it's easier to eat undeveloped eggs. (ISNT THAT INCREDIBLE?!?!)

IMPLICATIONS OF THESE FACTS:

1. Crowley can see at night because he's got them nocturnal snake eyes.

2. Crowley PROBABLY THOUGHT HIS HAIR TURNED BLACK WHEN HE FELL AND HE SAW HIS WINGS SORTA MATCHED. And unless someone has told him his hair is still red MAYBE HE STILL DOESNT KNOW

3. (Part 1) Nothing pisses me off more than that they didn't give Crowley's snake design heat pits along the lips because that would be so freaking cool to see in fanart of Crowley in like 'true form' or whatever cuz it would make him seem more "otherworldly" or "monstrous" but whatever. I'll forgive the designers because the heat pits he does have imply that he's a pit viper and also they're not visible on his human form (unless they're inside his nostrils?). Which means they're probably covered and don't cool back to 'thermal-neutral' properly so Crowley probably sees after images all the goddamn time (I'm gonna fucking write the saddest angstiest post season 2 fanfic for good omens called Afterimage BASED ON THIS FACT ALONE).

3. (part 2) because of how the regular vision and infrared vision are overlaid, anything that's warm/hot in temperature, like let's say an angel, probably looks like it's glowing. HELLO FANFIC AUTHORS WHERE ARE YOU?!? BLUSHING/FLUSHED AZIRAPHALE GLOWS BRIGHTER THAN NORMAL TO CROWLEY HELLO?!?!

4. When Aziraphale and Crowley kiss with tongue IF we give Crowley a Jacobson's organ, he would be OVERWHELMED WITH AZIRAPHALE. Imagine in every regular human sense, plus snake senses all of it is jUST AZIRAPHALE. Holy CRAP GUYS PLEASE (also like monsterfuckers/true form enthusiasts, the Jacobson's organ is just another fun snake feature you can include for funsies in your fanworks).

#good omens #good omens 2 #go2 #good omens 2 spoilers #go2 spoilers #good omens spoilers #if this is the post that categorizes me as a momsterfucker then so be it #im with good company

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nervousstarlightobserver · 11 months ago

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Seraphim Eye Practice + Headcanons

(I made these well before the official episode came out so these are older designs)

These are the eyes that I have finished and I’m proud to share with the world. I have given the seraphim names and some head canons to go with them. I also aged up all of the seraphim outside of S-Snake because I love how baby she is.

S-Hawk is actually one of two. I don’t know how I got it into my head, but I liked the idea of Mihawk having twin seraphim. They came about like regular twins, but if they were tube babies.

They are both called S-Hawk and they were separated when they were very young. Both are overprotective of each other because of being separated. The one you see at the very top is Crowley and the one at the very bottom is Montoya. Inigo Montoya and Crowly. Both of the twins eyes were replaced with robotic ones. They can even change color! Blue for Docile, Yellow for Alert, and Red/Pink for Danger. There is also Green, but none of the Punks know why they turn green since they rarely flash green. 👀

Crowley has the cloned devil fruit; but Montoya, on the other hand, ate an actual devil fruit. I call it the Fuse-Fuse fruit! It is a paramecia type that can fuse two or more things together. Both organic and inorganic materials can be fused. He typically fuses with S-Gecko. Montoya and S-Gecko were placed together while Crowly was placed with S-Crocodile and S-Catapiller. Crowley doesn’t use a sword, instead he uses a guitar that doubles as both a gun and a battle ax. It is the turducken of weapons. I kept their eyes similar to their original design (manga) since that’s what I stared with. Not much to talk about. But both of their wings are like that of a crow and not a hawk. The Punks don’t have a lot of knowledge on bird wings apparently 🤷 Crowley has tons of piercings I just didn’t add/you can’t see any of them. He is very much punk rock vs. Montoya who is very elegant vintage.

I’ve been calling S-Crocodile Dharma. Dharma Al Dini. I had a different name that started with a D for Dharma but I forgot to write it down so I had to change it. After watching a play through of Venba, I got the idea of Crocodile being able to speak Tamil and eating Indian food and that’s how Dharma came to be. Dharma knows how to speak Tamil and how to cook. I also gave him an Italian last name because of the whole mafia theme Crocodile’s got going on.

I had an outline of S-Crocodile way before it was revealed and what I have written down is so far off from the original that when I look at the seraphim I’m like, “Why are you so different?” And then I remember that when I first met these characters we only knew S-Hawk, Snake, Shark, and Bear and we didn’t even know if they were conscious. Dharma is very soft spoken and is very muted compared to Crocodile. Crocodile exudes confidence and superiority. Dharma is a very gentle presence and, while confident, lacks the same authority and charisma his prime does. (I’m calling the OGs Primes so I don’t have to constantly write out their names).

I made his eyes a star bursts with light coming out of them. Kinda like a start shooting light. I changed his eyes to be more of a warm honey color than Crocodile’s harsh gold (before Toei decided to change Crocodile’s eye color for no reason). I really wanted to show the difference in their personality in an obvious way. I also gave him makeup around his eyes because I thought his face looked to bare and it became a theme for nearly all the seraphim. I made Dharma’s wings that of a sparrow’s due to that one cover story, also his wings are closer to his hips than his shoulders. His aesthetic is a casual glam. He look effortless and like an average guy, but also extremely expensive.

S-Snake is a very curious child. She is very sweet, adventurous, self-assured, and bossy. She is trusting to a fault that her older brothers are over protective of her. I have named her Yumi. Yumi Stone. She and the others discovered that her devil fruit doesn’t require that they actually look at her, in fact, you don’t even need to see her for her devil fruit to work. The only qualification is that there is love. She can petrify the other seraphim because they love her and each other. She has used her powers on couples and parents to try and test how far her powers can go. Her powers also have some healing properties to it. She is interning under S-Gecko to become a doctor (This is due to trauma which I will get to maybe never).

Okay, to start off, I love how cute I made her!!!! Look at her, look at my baby! She is the definition of adorable. Her eyes were the most fun and, shockingly, the easiest to come up with because I had the idea of making each of the seraphim have unique eyes (by the time I hit S-Flamingo I had officially run out of ideas and just said fuck it close enough). I made her eyes a light purple because I thought it would break up all the warm colored eyes I was doing. I added the rings and the mini-stars because I loved the idea of her having like a sorta planetary eye. I nearly did the rings for Dharma and S-Gecko, but I scrapped the idea because it was not working. I gave her some small eye liner because all of the others had some form of make up. I didn’t want it to be to extreme and wanted to keep it simple for her and it ended up in her eyes looking more owlish and it’s just—mwuah!❤️ Not on purpose but I fell in love with it. That small little thing has also made me head canon that her wings are like an owls. Her eyes are easily my favorite over all. Yumi doesn’t have any specific aesthetics, she just wears whatever she thinks is cute or what her brothers pick out for her. She can really be any of the boys aesthetics when she wants to be. Like one day she can have a biker jacket on and the next she’s wearing a gardener outfit.

Next Batch! And I won’t be starting with S-Caterpillar, I’m saving him for last 😉

S-Gecko’s name is Frankenstein. At this point you can already tell the second theme that I picked out for the seraphim is that they are all of their names are based off of different fictional characters because I like to think that they choose their names from their favorite characters!

Frankenstein was also the first one to be created. We literally do not know how long he was a warlord for, but we do know that he lost a shit ton of blood to Kaido way back when! I like to believe that Gecko Moria was the entire reason the seraphim program exists because waaaaayy too many people forget that in his prime he was an actual candidate for becoming an emperor/the pirate king.

Frankenstein (just Frank or Stein depending on whose talking to him) is very similar, yet extremely different from his prime. • Similarities include : both work with the dead, are tacticians, and are very heavy sleepers. Stein is a workaholic and the other seraphim rarely, if ever, see him since he mainly stays in his room. He is very abrasive and is regularly seen wearing a scowl, but he also has a wicked sense of humor that you don’t get to hear often and is even funnier because you don’t expect it. He is an actual certified doctor which is important to know because he is the other seraphim’s primary doctor, but his day job is to work as a mortician. Despite his job as a mortician, he’s very delicate with the bodies. He has never attempted to raise the dead like his prime. He has never held any shame or disgust towards a body. He will do small things that seem illogical to some, but he was always superstitious type. He will sing lullabies to dead and gently push hair out of their faces. He will recount his day like he was talking to an old friend or a patient. Stein is a religious person in a loose sense. He won’t pray to any god and swears like a sailor but he won’t go out of his way to actively piss off a spirit. Stein is Montya’s best friend. In my head their relationship changed from two people that knew each other in passing to closer than anything. Montya developed some pretty serious separation anxiety after he was separated from Crowly. Once he was placed with Stein he just clung onto him and never let go. Stein, despite being very much a loner and not really a people person, let him cling to him. When Montya’s eyes were replaced with robotic ones and were malfunctioning, he used his devil fruit to create a sort of cooling agent to stop them from overheating. They had small little moments like these that built up over the years in captivity that made them inseparable…literally. After Montya ate his devil fruit he was forced to go under a series of experiments to test the limits of his devil fruit. One where they used Stein as a “motivator”. After one world government agent took it too far, in a panic, Montya fused himself and Stein together. It took several weeks to get them to unfuse forcing the WG to drop the experiment altogether. The two of them still fuse from time to time just to feel close. Frankenstein is the only person Montya has ever fused with. Not even Crowley.

Stein’s pupils are actually two different colors! They are two, three way triangles. I originally tried making his eyes like an atoms but I scrapped that idea. His wings are similar to an albatross. He also looks like Moria at his prime. Also I do realize that I gave him eyebrows even though he doesn’t have any, but they looked too good to discard. His aesthetic is yeehaw goth (Mihawk better watch out cause he’s side eyeing your territory). It is polarizing to see him and Montoya together because of how different their personalities are but still are best friends, yet him and Crowly absolutely hate each other with a burning passion and only really tolerate each other when Montoya is around. The second he turns around they are already throwing down and throttling each other into the stratosphere.

S-Flamingo. Better known as Donquixote Sancho. He is the very antithesis of Doflamingo. Not in a “they look exactly the same but we are totally different” but in a “Everything I do, I do to spite you” kinda way. Sancho is a priest and is respectful to literally everyone but the people in power. He lives modestly and refuses to live outside of the bare necessities. He refuses to use Doflamingo’s devil fruit and doesn’t even see it as his own power. He uses a god damn sword that is made out of seastone all the way through just because he doesn’t want to use Doflamingo’s devil fruit. Sancho loathes Doflamingo with such a passion that he takes everything he knows about him and flips it on its head just so he can avoid being reminded that he’s technically his son (brother. Him-Something?). Doflamingo has short hair? He grows his out. Doflamingo has an atrocious, outrageous sense of style? Wears nice, plain clothing. You can see where this is going. The only reason I gave him sunglasses was because I didn’t think he looked like Doffy enough without them. Each of the seraphim are supposed to be recognizable despite not even having the same color palette as their primes so just ignore the sunglasses (now that I’m looking at the photo again I realize that I forgot to give him makeup). His wings are similar to a swans.

Now is the little bastard’s turn. S-Caterpillar.

Or better known by the others as Godbrand Puck.

Now let’s get one this straight about Godbrand. He is almost exactly like Buggy. In fact the world government would consider him their first perfect, and only, total success. He emulates Buggy to a T. He is loud, eccentric, and all around flashy. Normally the world government would consider this to be a flaw that they can just beat out of him if it wasn’t for one very special factor. He is physically incapable of feeling pain. He isn’t just called Godbrand for shits and giggles. He has been branded with both the Slave brand and the Word Government’s symbol multiple times. Not once did he scream out in pain. In fact he stared giggling the first time it happened. He even fell asleep during one of these “sessions”.

Puck is the only one without green blood because when Vegapunk was first experimenting he decided to lace the artificial devil fruit with the DNA to make the seraphim automatically born with the devil fruit. This lead to the interesting discovery that due to the nature of Buggy’s devil fruit and the inherent nature of devil fruits permanently changing a users body, Puck’s pain receptors were completely severed. They tested this theory on several other Buggy clones that ended up in total failures because of the Chop-Chop fruits nature to split apart. Some of them were missing limbs or organs, others simply didn’t form correctly like an arm coming out of the head or the eyes were placed on the neck, sometimes there were an extra set of something like a row teeth or more than one head. Because Vegapunk tampered with re-adding the devil fruit into Buggy’s DNA none of his clones came out right leaving only Puck. The Golden Child. A Miracle. The Best out of a series of total and utter failures left with an extremely desirable trait in the World Government’s eyes. A solider who could continue on without being held back by something as trivial as pain. Of course until you realize that “desirable trait” leaves him with the inability to seek treatment. Biting his own fingers off. Swallowing his teeth and chewing on his own tongue till it’s bloodied. Ripping out stitches and IVs. Walking on a infected leg that has completely rotted bellow the knee. After that Vegapunk vowed to never clone another the same way he did Puck. Both too risky and high rate of failure. Even if the clone does survive, their could be some unforeseen complications down the line. With him being unable to feel pain, he feels no fear. Remember when I said he was almost exactly like Buggy? What is Buggy’s most notable traits? He is a complete and utter coward terrified of pain and will do almost anything to avoid it. But Puck? With him unable to feel pain, he feels no reason to fear anything. Why feel fear a fate worse than death when that “fate worse than death” is just feeling pain? That little chip the WG and Vegapunks invented to make them unable to feel anything or disobey orders? That is merely a controlled shock that will make them feel excruciating pain. So with that in mind, can you see where this is going? That little desirable trait that they oh so loved in the beginning has bitten them in the ass because this insufferable little shit doesn’t follow orders unless he wants to. Oh sure he won’t be able to “properly” move for a while but can just use his devil fruit to still make it work. What “fate worse than death” can they make him feel? He can’t even experience something so universal to the human experience that he believes himself to be above it all. He’s better than humanity. He is better than the other seraphim because they are all held down by the temporary emotion known as pain. They are below him because they are held back by something so…unnecessary.

Puck is everything the Buggy pretends to be. Puck is confident, powerful, and better than everyone else. He’s basically God. At least in his own eyes. Puck is a raging narcissist, like clinical textbox definition of a narcissist. He like Buggy, but everything is cranked up to an eleven. If crazy was a kind of clock, Buggy would be a single full rotation. Luffy would be like twenty full rotations and then clockwise and then back again on the perfect level of fun crazy and absolute Eldrich abomination. PUCK would be the exact opposite of Luffy landing on the worst amount of self import delusional asshole. He thinks himself a God with the power to back it up. His blood is that of the seraphim, a species that was once considered godlike, and Buggy, an emperor of the sea. He is the nepotism of blood. He is every last one of Buggy’s WORST possible traits. He is a narcissist, psychopathic, asshole. None of the other seraphim like him or understand him. And he doesn’t like or understand them. Worst of all, he is just as much of charismatic genius as his prime.

This brat has the critically thinking skills as Crocodile mixed with Buggy’s chemical expertise and Shank’s level of haki control. On my first post, you can see Puck with four wings. Because Buggy’s devil fruit already allows him to fly, he uses his wings as living armory. He can separate his feathers to create either daggers or swords depending on the situation. He uses his armament haki to make his feathers as strong as steel. Or he can uses his feathers for recon missions (think Hawks from MHA). He can also use his devil fruit for a variety of other situations. He uses it for espionage and undercover missions. He can cut his hair or limbs to appear taller or shorter. He removes his wings, nose, his own dick and Adam’s apple (if the situation calls for it) to go better under cover. He’s also knowledgeable enough about surgery to perform top and bottom surgery to easily switch between male and female when going under cover. He has entire rooms fill of wigs, makeup, clothing, dyes, jewelry, and other accessories specially for him. All his years undercover has made him an excellent actor. He knows what to say to get them to do what he wants. He knows how to persuade someone. No matter how much the others hate him, they have to admit, he is damn good at what he does.

For his design to most important thing to me was clown. I wanted to nail that performer look without making it too much or too bland. Buggy’s makeup is iconic. I’m like 90% sure Buggy has an egg. So I wanted to nail that Star of the Show look without butting into his territory. Of course I gave him Star first to not alone tie in the whole celestial feel, but it was thematic. I originally wanted to add in a moon since he already has a Star and a Sun but it just wouldn’t turn out how I wanted so first thing I asked myself was, “What is some of the most iconic clown makeup?” Then I remembered. TEARS! You can see a small blue tear on his left eye for 1.)Buggy is a bit of a crybaby and 2.)I didn’t want it to distract from the star too much. For the heart and the spade on the top of his forehead, it ties into playing cards. The heart and the spade are from a childhood drawing of mine where I made a monster using the four suits. Diamond and Club for the eyes. Heart on the forehead. And Spade as the nose. I took that idea and simplified it down to make the forehead not look as big. His eyes are easily my second favorite because we have a lot of warm colored eyes so that made him standout a lot more. His eyes are also the only ones that aren’t totally connected. All of the other seraphim’s eyes are very soft in some kind of way, Frankenstein being somewhat of an exception. All of their eyes are rounded in some kind of way. Dharma has a lot of curves to his eyes. The pointed edges of the twins, Yumi, and Sancho has been rounded off. Hell, even Frankenstein’s eyes have rounded lines in them to make appearance softer. Pucks eyes are completely sharp, there are no soft or rounded edges. Even the smaller stars are very straight and stiff. There is no softness in his eyes. There is nothing soft about Puck. His eyes are radioactive green. They are toxic. They are dangerous. They are tempting. He is the prettiest poison you’ve ever seen. His makeup, his nose, his hair and clothing are all attempts to make him appear softer than he really is. And of course, if you’ve seen my drawing of him, his wings are based off of duck wings. 1.) It’s a pun because Duck>Puck. Pretty self explanatory. And 2.) To make him appear weaker than he really is. You don’t look at a duck and think, “Total Murder Monster Hellbent on Making the World Kneel to Him”

Sorry for the long post. This is the longest I’ve ever written on this website so far and I had a lot I wanted to say before we got any new chapters or episodes that totally debunks any of my theories or lore. Maybe I’ll add on to this post by making the seraphim and their primes interacting with each other for the first time. And I hope you enjoyed! You can ask me questions if you want.

#one piece seraphim #one piece #one piece fanart #s snake #s hawk #s-flamingo #s-Gecko #s crocodile #egghead #Seraphim Buggy

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tickety-boooo · 2 months ago

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Aziraphale's Flaming Sword

I'm working on a poem about Aziraphale's flaming sword and it got me thinking all about it, so here are my thoughts and findings!

First is looks: the hilt is surprisingly plain. It's not the intricate, ornate sword you might expect; instead it's more primitive, or ancient, by design. The pommel is rounded, and the hand guard curves upward around the base of the blade, resembling a cup shape, rather than a crossguard in a straight line. Actually, it resembles the handle of a torch, which is interesting. Torches give off light and symbolize guidance and enlightenment. An appropriate weapon for our angel, I think! Aziraphale is given the sword to help him guard Eden against... what, exactly? I've never really stopped to consider what the danger is supposed to be. Could it be the animals that live outside of the garden? After Adam and Eve are cast out, they're seen fighting a lion with the sword, and in his dialogue with Crowley, Zira mentions "vicious animals". If it's the forces of Hell, then he's not doing a very good job of it, (poor angel~) letting Crowley snake his way in with the whole apple business! And since it's a sword made of fire, would that even hurt a demon? Is it holy fire? Do angels have holy water AND holy fire, and if so, do demons have a "hellwater" equivalent?!?!? These are the real questions I need answers to!! lol

I wonder if instead it's supposed to match up with what's written in the Bible. An angel with a flaming sword is sent to guard the Tree of Knowledge AFTER Adam and Eve are cast out, to prevent mankind from re-entering the garden. The angel was supposed to stop humanity from returning to paradise! I didn't know about this detail! In the show I assumed Aziraphale was always stationed there to protect Eden, even before Adam and Eve were cast out! Was this Aziraphale's actual job? Was he told to go to Eden and guard the gate after the original sin? If true, I think this would imply he had only been in the garden for a short time by the wall scene in s1ep1. And then it would make sense that he didn't try to stop Crowley from tempting Eve if he wasn't even there to see it happen originally. He's called in to work after everything already went down (like a lead balloon). But he has empathy and takes pity on the humans, and by giving away the sword he deviates from the Bible's story. I think the way this scene is cut and edited it feels like all of these events are happening immediately one after another, as it is meant to serve as a summary of Genesis (we all know the basic story) when most likely there were moments in between, like God speaking to Adam and Eve about why they're hiding their bodies and, potentially, Zira's arrival at the garden. We see in a different scene later that Zira is patching up the wall, and God asks him about the sword being missing. How is he to defend the garden against humanity's return without his sword?

Moving onnn... This scene is an origin story for how humanity harnessed fire!! And Aziraphale is the one who gave it to us, to protect ourselves and stay cozy warm and cook our food!!!! That is so cool and it completely fits with his character!! I love that the flaming sword in Aziraphale's hands is a symbol of protection and self-defense, life and survival.

And then because it's been given away, given to humans, (who now have the capacity for both good and bad after eating the apple) after thousands of years the sword ends up in the hands of the horseman WAR. That's her key item to summon her for the impending apocalypse. It now represents how humans have control over fire; they've created gunpowder and artillery and war and violence and Earth-ending destruction.

But WAR is defeated by Pepper, using the same sword that now holds this duality in meaning. Pepper, "Pippin Galadriel Moonchild", the child of a hippie mother, or in a way, a child of PEACE, defending her world, protecting the lives of everyone on Earth. Ahh it's such a satisfying narrative circle, I love it!!!!

That's all for now! I totally paused my poem work to write all this out, so back to it!!

#good omens #gomens #good omens meta #good omens s1 #good omens eden #aziraphale #az fell #angel of the eastern gate #aziraphale's flaming sword #good omens war #good omens pepper #good omens adam and eve #guardian angel #book of genesis #meta #ticketyboooo posts

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cineresis · 1 year ago

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Angels in America

It's amazing how fast an evening at your favorite club can be ruined by someone keeling over and frothing at the mouth. The band never quite gets back into the swing of things afterwards.

"Angel," sighed one of the men, or nearest approximants, at the table next to mine, "why is it that I can never go anywhere with you without stumbling across a body?"

"Oh, come now," said his partner, a soft, fluffy confection in caramel and cream, rising hastily to make his way toward the source of the commotion. The first gentleman, dark, lanky, and excruciatingly chic, got up to follow him. "It's hardly every time."

I stayed where I was for now, casting my gaze around the room as I went over my memory of the past twenty or thirty minutes. Too many people passing close enough to slip something into the victim's drink, too many others to watch at the same time, too many more opportunities to poison him outside my field of view. I was a detective, not God.

"Stumbling upon, once. Literally. Do you know what it's like to have to clean up after that sort of thing? It takes a personal toll."

"Hush, Crowley," chided "Angel". "People can hear you, and you know how queer they get about these things. Ooh, yes, that's strychnine, all right," he added cheerfully, pulling a small vial from his vest pocket and tipping it into his handkerchief. "Nasty stuff."

I got up. As I approached, I caught the faint, unmistakable chemical sweetness of ether fumes and gave them a wide berth, choosing instead to inspect the victim's plate and glass before turning to scan the room from this perspective.

"Now, just what might you be doing?" drawled Crowley.

I looked him over, too, while I was at it. In Crowley's case, this involved a lot of looking and not much over; he was easily more than six feet tall, even while slouching rakishly. The snake tattoo on his right temple suggested certain things about him. The dark glasses that he hadn't removed since he'd entered just suggested questions, since I highly doubted he was blind. "I'm a detective," I said, leaving the obviously at the end of that sentence to implication. "What are you doing?"

This response seemed to delight him. "So are we," Crowley answered, and grinned. "But if you want to get specific about it, I'm keeping you distracted while my friend saves this man's life. Let's see your license, then."

As I took it out, keeping at least one eye on him and his partner, Angel called out to the rubbernecking crowd around us, "I need someone here to run and call the nearest hospital, and a couple of strong men to help get this poor fellow someplace dark and quiet to rest. Best use one of the tablecloths for a stretcher," he added to the first volunteer who stepped forward.

Crowley leaned in closer to study my license. "Drake Silas Donovan," he read off. "'Silas', really?"

"What about it?"

"I've just always wondered what kind of parent would name their kid Silas."

"The kind who had a grandfather named Silas," I replied coolly, snagging my license back. "Your turn."

He obliged. Anthony J. Crowley, it read, licensed in London since 1905, the year before mine. I wondered how long he'd been at this; he looked too young for his apparent age, but then I looked too old for mine. "A. J. Crowley," I read his signature aloud. "Get asked if you're any relation every time, or just most?"

There's a certain motion a person's head makes when they roll their eyes. Crowley's was making it. "The man's an embarrassment to the side," he griped. "I made my name legitimately."

"And your friend?" It wasn't as if I couldn't put two and two together. There's a certain type of person who's got both a nose for trouble and the brains to prepare for it; if it walks, talks, and thinks like a dick, it probably is one. It was just that I wasn't in the habit of trusting people, and I'd be a real schmuck to neglect basic due diligence on the guy purportedly surrounded by bodies.

Detectives are no better or worse than any other person. They just think it's usually more interesting to solve crimes than commit them.

"Oh, he's as legitimate as it gets." Crowley turned to his companion, who was getting to his feet, brushing his clothes off fussily. Beside him, the two volunteers hoisted the unconscious victim onto a tablecloth spread across the floor, momentarily dislodging the ether-soaked cloth before Angel caught it and laid it carefully back in place over the victim's nose and mouth. "Aren't you, Aziraphale?"

Angel — "Aziraphale"? — looked up, startled. "Pardon?"

"Mr. Donovan here wants to see your detective's license," Crowley explained, enunciating his words with malice aforethought.

"Oh! Yes. Of course I always have that with me. Now just where did I..." He started patting down his pockets, stopped suddenly, and took a lovely calfskin card holder out of his coat. "Ah. Here it is."

Beaming, he passed it to Crowley, who passed it to me with the comment, "You'll find everything in order, I'm sure."

I glanced down at the card, then back up at Angel. "Am I supposed to call you A. Z. Fell or Aziraphale?" I asked, pronouncing the Z correctly as zed.

"A. Z. Fell is how 'Aziraphale' is pronounced in the King's English," said Crowley blandly, affecting a cut-glass Oxford accent on the last phrase. His partner seemed pleased by this comment, rather than annoyed.

"I'm afraid my progenitor bestowed me with a rather unwieldy given name," Fell admitted, raising fascinating questions about just how many syllables the British peerage could fit on a birth certificate when they really tried. "Aziraphale just sounds so much more euphonious, don't you think?" Crowley was right; I couldn't tell whether Fell had meant to say A. Z. Fell or the de-accented gloss. He'd lengthened the half-syllable between zed and Fell to a full vowel, but some people said zetta.

"I wouldn't know," I replied, handing the license back to Crowley, who was nearest. When Fell didn't take my bait, I added, "Lucky that you happened to have ether handy. I wouldn't like to imagine what might've happened if you'd decided to stay in tonight." I also lied when I said sorry, and when I swore to tell the whole truth and nothing but. Little white lies are the oil in the gears of civilization.

"Oh, I always carry that, too," Fell explained earnestly. "One gets into the habit after one's first run-in with strychnine, and of course ether has so many useful applica—"

"I wouldn't, angel," Crowley interrupted, sounding very amused. "Mr. Donovan thinks you're the one behind this."

"Oh," said Fell, nonplussed. "Gosh. Well, I — I suppose I can't blame him. He doesn't know me from Adam, after all, and has no reason to trust me — I did warn you about giving people funny ideas, Crowley, honestly. Of course," Fell turned to me, laying an elegant hand across his chest, "if you were to search me, you would find only a small collection of antidotes — oh, but a habitual poisoner would probably carry those, too, especially if he were the sort of voyeur with a penchant for playing the hero. I certainly wouldn't be convinced of my innocence. Yes, I can certainly understand whatever suspicion you might feel towards me, however misplaced it may be."

Crowley watched this thought process with an expression somewhere between fascination and agony. "Well, at least now he probably thinks that if you'd done it, you'd have been caught by now," he remarked, presumably because he was thinking the same thing. "You'll have to excuse my friend," Crowley added to me. "He still believes that the innocent have nothing to fear. Somehow."

"First time visiting?" I guessed.

Fell's bemusement answered my question before he did. "Pardon?"

"Never mind."

#good omens #1920s #noir #detective fiction #lgbt fiction #original fiction #(as it were; i should probably go back and tag the posts in this series more identifiably)#is this a human AU or are Crowley and Aziraphale just huge nerds? i don't know and neither does the outsider-POV narrator #i will finish this if there is public demand but otherwise This Is What You Get #(other stuff is still in the pipeline. this has just been a fuck of a year.)#i did this #my writing #a good man is hard to find (no not that one)

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rada-76 · 20 days ago

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Part 2. About Professionalism and Bullet Catching

This post is in Russian/Этот пост есть на русском, здесь.

Preface "Marvelous!" | Part 1 | Supplement one to Part 1 | Supplement two to Part 1 Reading the supplements is not necessary to understand this post.

This post involves some guesswork that might lead to doubt. However, we were shown a clear and insightful parallel between the scenes "in the magic shop" and "in Edinburgh," which helps us understand the techniques used to create these parallels. For instance:

One element can convey multiple meanings.

The significance of phrases, sounds, colors, and the spatial relationships of objects is crucial.

Characters can mirror the main characters, as couples do.

Emotions may be similar, but in the mirrored scene, they feel more genuine than in the original.

Here I’ll be referring to the final fifteen-minute conversation scene between Aziraphale and Crowley as "the final 15" for short. I see a cool system of parallels between this scene and the performance of the Fabulous Mr. Fell in the West End in 1941.

"Broken Bottles"

Broken bottles are associated with a cancelled breakfast at the Ritz: someone didn't get the pile of alcohol they were expecting, and the angel volunteered to do a magic trick instead.

"Beginning of the performance"

So, Aziraphale goes on stage. The owner of the theater, Mrs. H, urges him: "You're on. Get on with it!"

When Aziraphale enters the bookstore, having received Metatron's offer, I want to exclaim the same thing in his direction.

The angel hesitates and drags his feet for the first few minutes on stage. The manager in the theater yells "Get on with it!" at him in disgust. In the bookshop, too. Isn't that what everyone in the viewers wanted to yell at the angel along with Crowley when he interrupted the demon and started to hesitate and drag his feet in the bookshop? "Come on, Angel!"

However, Aziraphale gave Crowley at least two clues with his performance in the bookshop: a timeout sign with his palms and a silent phrase. And that's not counting the fact that he was grotesquely and contrary to his beliefs happy about the offer he received.

And Azi didn't waste any time on stage either! True, we, the audience, got the clues.

Hint 1. "Ladies from Camelot"

"They were the ladies from Camelot," says the angel, barely having entered the stage. Guessed? That's Nina and Maggie, who left the bookshop when he entered!

Hint 2. "Bees"

Then Azi says: "They're the bees knees!"

And remember when Crowley went to Heaven with Muriel?

- My office, but... - Lead on. - But... No, I can't! You're a demon! I can't just... Do you know how much trouble I'll get into for this? - It's fine. You're forgetting about the bees. - Bees? - Angels are like bees. Fiercely protective of their hive if you're trying to get inside. Once you're in... - Well, I mean... Is it even faintly possible that an unauthorized demon might be just wandering around in Heaven unescorted? [Muriel shakes her head] - Mm, bees. - But you don't look like a bee. You look like a murder hornet or a snake or a... [Crowley changes his outfit.] - Bees. Right.

Michael met Crowley in the corridor of Heaven, but did not pay attention to him. Michael and other angels are bees that were fooled.

"Ladies of Camelot" Nina and Maggie went into a bookshop before the final 15. Aziraphale, entering the bookstore after talking to Metatron, met both ladies on the way out, but paid no attention to them, just as Michael paid no attention to Crowley in Heaven. Now were Crowley himself, together with Aziraphale, the bees that were fooled? Azi and Crowley let Nina and Maggie into the store thinking it was safe, but that was a mistake!

Oh, another poster in the fandom has argued this already! It was no coincidence that Nina and Maggie influenced Crowley's thoughts. And I did not believe this post initially. Well, now I bow to this transparent parallel. Maybe the girls were bewitched by Metatron, and it was not them themselves, but the fact of sabotage has been established.

Hint 3. "Portion (jigger)"

And Azi also says jiggery-pokery on stage. Remember Metatron's hefty jigger (huge spoon/portion)?

"Invitation for Crowley"

It's terribly sweet that Azi then says: "first, I shall require the assistance of a gentleman from the audience." That is, he needs Crowley as an ally in the final 15. But the demon doesn't immediately realize that he is being called from the audience, that he needs to raise his hand. He doesn't immediately realize in the final 15 that he needs to play along.

"Turn a turnip into an inkwell"

Aziraphale can't turn a turnip into an inkwell. And what a strange choice of objects, don't you think? I have the audacity to interpret this as Azi not being able to get through to Crowley. At least, the angel thinks it doesn't work. Oh, demon, you're being stupid, you're just a turnip! You've become so bright! You haven't done a single demonic mischief in the modern part of the second season, at least not intentionally! Where is your demonic ingenuity, where are your ink pens with sharp ends?

Although, to be fair, Crowley also tried to transform a turnip. But he couldn't either. Here, most likely, the parallel is this: he tried to stop time, but he couldn't. It's a pity that it is not yet known for sure about stopping time. We only have the clock hints.

But now that we can look, we have two confirmations in addition to the hands that stopped in the bookshop behind the demon! Crowley really tried to stop time in the final 15!

"Crowley is a Time Lord"

Hint 1. "Fez in a Trick Shop"

In the modern part of the story, Aziraphale and Crowley come to a magic shop and talk to a new salesman. It is no coincidence that Azi starts tempting this salesman with the book "Expert at the Card Table" to lure him to a meeting-ball, that is, he also seriously wants to share his expertise. Aziraphale worked like a real expert in the finale. Everything he did was great, necessary and correct.

And Crowley is cosplaying Doctor Who in a magic shop. It turns out that this famous Easter egg-reference to the time lord is not just there for fun, but works to understand the ending. Crowley's emotion is boredom, but maybe it rhymes with his impatience while Aziraphale was hesitating in the final 15.

Notice that Crowley, wearing the Doctor's fez, moves his hands over the glass ball, as if embracing and covering it. Why? We already know that there are no coincidences in parallels. Only now the ball is Earth. Because Crowley helped protect Earth from Armageddon in the first season by stopping time, like a true master of time.

It turns out that the demon in the final 15 did try to stop time. Now I find it hard to believe that the standing arrow was a blooper. Are bloopers even possible in the polished diamond that is Good Omens?!

Confirmation 2. "Doctor Who continued"

We were reminded that Crowley is a time lord by a shot in 1941 where he is sitting in the audience. The Good Omens team really did line up the shot with Crowley, as well as the return shot with Azi, so that I would notice the association of these shots with shots from Doctor Who, and Crowley himself with a time lord!

It's just a pity that the reminder of the power over time was given shortly before the key events on stage, and not at the same time as Crowley's attempt to turn a turnip into an inkwell. But wait a minute!..

Eureka!

Where else was "have a gold star" said by Crowley to Muriel? In the Season 1 scene at the airbase, Crowley said this to Adam shortly before he stopped time: "Well done. Have a gold star. Won't make any difference."

Update: And also at the airfield Crowley threw the book of prophecies into Anathema's hands, and in the bookshop he threw the book into Muriel's hands (thanks @kimberleyjean).

And in the final 15, we were given this reminder shortly before Crowley tried to stop time. Perfect symmetry with the first season and the audience in 1941 is guaranteed!

Now I need an assistant who will collect and analyze all the references to time in the series. Because the characters sometimes have too much time, sometimes not enough.

"Crowley takes the stage"

Although the miracles were blocked, and in both cases there was clearly some kind of crazy thing going on, but "sometimes you meet stubborn turnips." Crowley, despite suspecting something was wrong, still began his monologue-confession in the finale.

Well. “So... best get on to the main event. Tonight... I will take my life in my hands.” This is Aziraphale getting ready to catch a bullet. He is so cool, a real professional! In both scenes. Even though it is difficult for him. I am absolutely delighted!

When Crowley takes the stage, Azi, of course, tries to maintain the legend that Crowley is a randomly selected spectator. Look, audience, this is a complete stranger to me. Believe me, we are not friends. Do you hear that, Metatron, you bastard?

"Shot"

Well, about the angel's "aim at my mouth" only the lazy have not joked that it was about a kiss. In general, the phrase "aim at my mouth, but shoot past the ear" is too ridiculous to mean anything. But what does the ear have to do with it then? Is this the angel's words "I can't hear anything" about nightingales?

In the conversation shots, they often show Crowley from right behind Aziraphale's ear, and only his ear is visible. Not only is the angel's ear the only thing we see during the kiss, but Aziraphale also closes his eyes... Like in 1941 before the shot.

As for the meaning of the phrases "nothing lasts forever", as well as from 1941: "trust me", "at my signal" and "take this bullet and load it into the rifle.", I have not yet figured out exactly.

But now we need to discuss the shot. And the shot is a kiss.

"Aziraphale in the crosshairs"

I noticed that the sight is the shape of the neckline of Maggie's blouse. She has a blue ribbon in the center of the dark circle of the neckline. Yes, the shape of the ribbon refers to the snake, because Maggie is an analogy with Crowley. But objects in the series often have a double meaning. Let me remind you that blue is Aziraphale's color, and red is Crowley's color. Just remember the paintball paint in the first season! They were both also shot at then. So now Maggie's blue ribbon is Aziraphale shown through the gun sights.

"The True Emotions of a Kiss"

When Crowley took aim, he was absolutely terrified. I wouldn't be surprised if he was in the same state when he realized he was kissing an angel. Aziraphale was also very scared to stand under the gun. But he trusts Crowley infinitely, and the fear during the kiss was most likely caused by Metatron watching them.

I think we shouldn't discount the incredible happiness and relief when they successfully completed the trick. Because in fact, if not for the circumstances, the kiss would have been a happy one for them. I add this hint to my collection of confirmations that the third season will end happily.

"Bullet in the teeth"

Apparently, that glimpse of spit in Aziraphale's mouth that fans noticed in the final 15 after the kiss was added by the creators to rhyme with the bullet in his teeth in 1941. I don't think there's a physical bullet in the ending. A shine of spit is just what is needed to connect scenes and sequence events. Paralleling objects are never completely identical. For example, even when we had three mirrors, they were still different: wall, table and pocket. So my opinion is that in the end it’s just saliva.

Update: I've already changed my mind. Crowley could have given Aziraphale an object through a kiss. I was convinced by the scene in which Maggie walks from her record store to the meeting-ball in a black and red T-shirt with a picture of a man in black glasses.

I'll quote from this Russian post.

"She locks her little store with a ✨key✨ and holds it at the level of the ✨lips✨ of the man depicted on the T-shirt. Then she puts the keys in her other hand and throws them into a ✨tartan✨ bag, which closes with difficulty. Probably, the kiss was so strange and long because the "bag" at first resisted the transfer of important information.

"I forgive you"

This phrase has a reference to the first season, so we can assume that this nightmare phrase for Crowley hints at something. Aziraphale, of course, was shocked, but remember that he also managed to behave Professionally. Maybe he wanted Crowley to at least later draw an obvious parallel: "Demon, you call me to go somewhere together, and I tell you that I forgive you, and then we overcome a huge threat together."

"Prediction for the third season"

The Magnificent Mr. Fell's speech has ended. What happened next in the fourth episode? In other words, what can we expect in season three? Friends, you don't have to wait any longer! The main thing is to look carefully!

Aziraphale saved Crowley with his utmost Professionalism by stealing an incriminating photograph from Furfur.

It all ended with a happy celebration in a safe place, complete harmony and mutual adoration.

"The Terrible Magician and the Ink Pens"

There, in 1941, in the book Crowley said that Aziraphale no longer needs to maintain the professionalism of a magician. Moreover, professionalism in each case is of its own kind. In 1941 - the art of a magician. And in the finale of the third season, Aziraphale will be able to leave behind the art of overcoming deadly threats.

Crowley himself at the end of the third season also no longer wants to be an aggressively sharp, honed ink pen. That's why he says immediately after the shot on stage, beaming with relief from happiness: "No paperwork."

Yes, there is some scatter in the timeline, but I still like this version. In both cases, hints to the third season are placed in the circumstances of a happy outcome of a deadly situation.

In short, we were promised that in the upcoming finale, the angel and the demon will be able to relax in each other's company. We will see them again in the finale of the third season with celebratory glasses in hand.

That's my main point. Thank you very much for your attention!

End of Series of posts "Breaking the "Good Omens" Code".

I invite you to read the two-part post "Crowley, Death, and Cups" about the false continuity error at the link, but only in Russian.

All my posts with analyses are here. Author @rada-76 Translator into English @kimberleyjean

#good omens #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #aziraphale #crowley #good omens parallels #good omens analysis #good ineffable omens #good omens meta #gos2 #ineffable spouses #good omens clues #good omens theory #good omens thoughts #good omens theories

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llflorence · 5 months ago

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When you are old - Human AU, RatedE, Professors

Sleeping with Crowley was —well, it wasn’t sleeping, that was for sure. Aziraphale was constantly in contact with at least five groping, greedy fingers for the duration of the night. The funny part was that it didn’t matter he got little to no rest. His heart and his bed were full, and Crowley seemed over the moon with the extra touch. As if starving for it.

Although whatever they had was novel and embarrassingly exposed, it was also strangely familiar. The slide of skin over clean sheets until bony feet made contact with his own. A content sigh tickled the hairs at the back of his neck. A tentative whisper in the darkened room, spoken quietly enough not to wake a sleeping bedmate, but loud enough to understand if aware.

Aziraphale chose to ignore it this time, the gentle, “Angel? You asleep?”

(Well, not ignore, but pretend, rather. Crowley seemed so worried about Aziraphale that he couldn’t have slept much either).

Back to Crowley’s front, facing the wall and in no hurry to escape from his dually occupied bed, Aziraphale waited half a moment to see if the man would repeat the question or give up and finally close his eyes. Instead, Crowley withdrew. His limbs snaked out from their tangled place with Aziraphale’s, and the bed shifted, and –

“Where are you going?” Aziraphale asked, turning to catch Crowley by the wrist as he slid one foot to the floor. It was impossible to determine what the time was with the curtains drawn tightly and his phone somewhere in the kitchen downstairs. But it felt like it was much too late, similar to oversleeping on a weekday when he had an early class.

“Shhh,” Crowley hushed, chuckling slightly. He wrung Aziraphale’s hand in his own and pulled his other leg from the sheets as well. “I’m just going to pop home for a change of clothes. I’ll be back. I promise.”

Aziraphale sat up quickly and flung the bedthings out of the way. “I’m coming with you.”

‘Home’ was an umbrella term that covered many things. The stifling one-bedroom was four walls and a roof at the top of the stairs inside an old home converted into a four-story frat house. The snowbanks in the alleyway were littered with discarded bottles and cans, and a half-full hot tub sat tilting to one side on its trailer, leaves and branches frozen into the murky surface. How Crowley got any peace and quiet in a party house like that –

“Now you see why I don’t mind the drive up north to Uncle Fur Fur’s place.”

Aziraphale did see. Even with the hoarder’s clutter and cat smell. At least they hadn’t needed to step over a minefield of vomit pools on the way back to the car.

It was nine when they took to the road again. Crowley insisted there was plenty of time to stop for coffee before heading back to Aziraphale’s for a shower before church. Imagining steaming water pelting tan, freckled skin and dripping from red hair, however, had Aziraphale insisting they take it to-go.

Standing front to front, lathered and warm and smiling, Aziraphale tried to convince Crowley that they really didn’t need to go anywhere. It was cold outside, and it was warm in. Surely they should take advantage of the fresh sheets, free of stains and wrinkles and ready for another round. Mischief glinted in the amber eyes, then, and Aziraphale’s back hit the shower wall a little forcefully. But Crowley’s elbow nudged the cold water handle, and both screeched when their steamy encounter suddenly turned to ice.

“You did that on purpose!” Aziraphale spluttered as Crowley yanked the towel off the bar and flung it between their bodies. He hugged it against Aziraphale, laughing gayly.

“I swear to all things unholy that it was an accident! Now, you stay in here and make yourself pretty. I’m going to dress in the bedroom so that we’re not late for church.”

Aziraphale obeyed with reluctance. He really didn’t want to leave the house again, not now that he knew how frigid the January morning truly was. But he steeled himself, ran through his normal routines only sightly distracted. And when he emerged from the bathroom to find Crowley in black high heel boots and much too tight leather pants with a black jacket, the fit of which gave him curves Aziraphale didn’t know existed?

Well.

“Too much?” Crowley asked, half angelic and half demonic.

“Not at all.”

Aziraphale wasn’t lying. Anthony J. Crowley grew infinitely more stunning the vaguer his gender became.

Crowley parked the car at the end of the middle row. He got out first, opened Aziraphale’s door and offered a hand with a cheeky wink.

“My Dear,” he said, plumes of condensation circling his head. Aziraphale swooned and thought he looked just like an angel.

Arm in arm, shoulders pressed close and footsteps in sync, Crowley led him across the lot toward the front door. Aziraphale quietly took in the other churchgoers around them with the same destination. He wondered how long it would take for —

“Mr. Fell!” a familiar boy’s voice called out from the row of cars behind them. Aziraphale glanced up at Crowley, and they both looked over their shoulders.

It was Adam.

“Hello, Mr. Young,” Aziraphale said, waving as the boy hurried through the parked cars to catch up. His smile was welcoming as he trotted to a halt beside them.

He eyed Crowley with interest.

“Your parents here already, Dear?” Aziraphale asked.

Adam nodded. The pom-pom on his large stocking cap jiggled. “Yeah. I got to drive myself today!”

“Oh! Well done!” Aziraphale crowed. He hadn’t been to church in months, but he remembered how excited the boy had been about getting his license.

“Thanks!” he beamed, and then held out a hand to Crowley. “I’m Adam. Adam Young.”

“Anthony Crowley.”

Aziraphale watched the grinning exchange and felt slightly less nervous.

“I gotta run,” Adam said, bouncing on his heels as he backed away. “Mum wants me to help with the luncheon!”

“Off you go.”

He waved and hurried off. Crowley squeezed Aziraphale’s arm.

“Well, he’s friendly then!”

Aziraphale’s nose was beginning to run. He urged Crowley onward. “Yes. Nice boy. Now, can we please get inside before we turn into popsicles?”

Crowley chuckled and leaned in to kiss his cheek. The warmth of his breath fogged Aziraphale’s soul. “Good thing you’re just so hot, Angel.”

They hurried across the driving lane and up onto the sidewalk. Crowley wrestled the heavy door open and Aziraphale walked through. But he did it alone, and as he looked back to see what was the hold up, Crowley waved over the tops of several people’s heads.

Once one opens a door —

Smiling, loving the curious looks of forced politeness on patrons’ faces, Aziraphale removed his coat and hung it on a hanger. He then stepped out of the hall and leaned against the far wall to watch.

Crowley wasn’t faking anything. He grinned and greeted each person as if he were particularly happy to see them. He received several thank yous as he was graced with casual Midwestern indifference. A head taller than most who passed, he looked as if he had been hired by the church. If the pastor had the guts to employ a flaming redhead whose shirt was so scandalously open in the front (and who was not wearing a proper coat in the dead of winter).

Aziraphale quite enjoyed himself, felt his heart fluttering each time Crowley smiled at him. He could have stood there all morning watching as his lover exuded charm and confidence and a steady stream of unabashed flirting.

“Let me get that for you,” Crowley said to Old Widowed Mrs. West, who lived two streets to the east and never tired of the joke. She was carrying a tray of brownies, which were tipping precariously as she reached for the stair railing.

“Oh!” Surprised, she looked into Crowley’s eyes and gave up the pan without a fight. “Thank you!”

“No worries.”

Crowley caught on that she was having trouble with the stairs, and he reached for her elbow with his other hand, propping the door with his foot and juggling everything like an experienced entertainer.

Aziraphale strode across the hall to help, greeting her and offering his arm instead. She accepted it and smiled at Crowley, then shamelessly admonished Aziraphale for slacking on his duties.

“And where have you been, young man?” Her sweetness soured. “Your mother would roll over in her grave if she found out you have been skipping church!”

Mrs. West had never met his mother and was only making assumptions. His atheist mum hadn’t set foot inside a church since Aziraphale was a child. But, since he wasn’t completely certain about the afterlife and didn’t dare make his challenge in a designated holy place, “She would indeed.”

Crowley sidled in close, chin hovering somewhere north of Aziraphale’s ear. The lanky man’s sternum poked into his shoulder, and Aziraphale watched, amused, as Mrs. West’s eyebrows rose like elevators into her hairline.

“Oh! This is Anthony Crowley,” Aziraphale said, face flushing instantly hot as he fumbled over words he normally had strict control over. “He’s my — my —“

“We work together at the college,” Crowley supplied, quickly offering a hand to shake and smiling beatifically at the older woman. “And I must say, these brownies smell fantastic! I’m sure everyone harrasses you for the recipe!”

Mrs. West gazed at the pan of sweets perched vicariously in one of Crowley’s elegant hands. She looked to Aziraphale, then back at Crowley. She shook her finger.

“And don’t you try to get it out of me, Mr. Anthony Crowley.” She said it like a curse word as she tapped the side of her head. “I don’t share with just anyone. My secrets are safely locked away up here.”

Crowley bowed slightly. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Would you like me to take them downstairs for you?”

Mrs. West considered the dilemma, shifted her eyes back and forth as people jostled around in their attempts to remove jackets. “Yes. But be careful. The frosting hasn’t quite set yet, and if the pan tips it will all slide to one side.”

Crowley quickly straightened and held the dessert in both hands. “Right. Will do.”

And then to Aziraphale. “Save me a seat?”

All he could do was nod and watch closely as a perfect pair of buttocks moved down the stairs and disappeared.

Mrs. West left him for the coat rack with a strong, judgmental look, greeting others in her matronly way. Meanwhile, Aziraphale felt suddenly lost and unmoored; he really hadn’t ever felt as if he fit in.

That was when Breann and her cronies noticed him.

“Aziraphale!” the woman bellowed, rushing up and taking a hug without asking for permission. “It’s so good to see you! How are you?”

A professional busybody, followed closely by her cousin and best friend, she reminded Crowley of the wicked stepmother and her evil stepdaughters.

“I’m well. Breann.” He didn’t want to say too much or she’d dive into stories of her dramatic life, self-induced, no doubt.

She studied him with narrowed eyes, and Aziraphale had the feeling that she could tell he’d been properly rogered the night before.

Breann smirked triumphantly. “You look well. In fact, I’d say you look positively radiant! Is it possible that you’ve finally found someone to fill the gaping hole in your life?”

Aziraphale bristled as he always did, but had vowed ages ago not to let it tarnish his solitary lifestyle.

He quite enjoyed the unintended double entendre. She thought she was being funny.

“Hmm,” was all he said as he began to make his way into the main hall.

The thing about churches in the Midwest was that people didn’t like change. They parked in the same spot, brought the same thing for lunch afterward. They expected the stand up, sit down of the service, the hymns, the mindless droning of memorized prayers. And they really, really didn’t like when others sat in their chosen pews.

Aziraphale, although he was there with Crowley after he’d been with Crowley, didn’t want to rock the boat. He took a seat in the section reserved for guests, sinking onto the hard wooden surface and realizing the dull ache in his lower regions. It was suddenly very apparent that he was going to have a difficult time sitting still, and he was, for once, looking forward to the congregational up and down to come.

Minutes passed. And then, some more. Aziraphale glanced at his phone and realized it had been fifteen of said minutes and Crowley still hadn’t returned. The room was nearly full, and proceedings were about to begin. He pushed off of the bench and made his way into the foyer and down the stairs to the basement.

And, there, moving with graceful sliding steps, carrying a chair in each hand and smiling like an angel, Crowley was helping the lunch ladies with set up.

Aziraphale paused at the bottom of the stairs to watch. Adam and his mother were there, along with the other soccer moms, and one dad, smiling and chatting and otherwise making nice. It was domestic and it was endearing, and Aziraphale was reminded of the way Crowley taught his lectures. Casual. Lighthearted. Friendly.

“Hello!” Crowley said as he unfolded and set up what looked like the last of the chairs. His face was slightly flushed and his breath labored. “Sorry! Got wrangled into some hard labor. I think it’s all done now. Right? Diedre?”

Adam’s mother waved from the kitchen. “Yes, thank you!”

Crowley approached with an infectious glee and bumped shoulders with Aziraphale. “I couldn’t say ‘no,’ could I?”

No, he couldn’t.

The service was an eye-opening event. Crowley sat closer than sin in the pew, his hand wrapped around Aziraphale’s and knocking their knees together. He smiled and nodded, just like any decent god-fearing churchgoer would. And when it came time for the hymns, when they had to reach into the shelf on the pew ahead to search for the correct page in the hard-backed hymnal, Crowley took over with practiced confidence.

And, oh! Crowley could sing! Low and sweet and clear as a bell, perfectly in tune and without mixing up any of the words. Aziraphale found himself merely mouthing along, gazing sideways at the vibrations of Crowley’s throat and wanting to swallow him whole.

The parade out of the church and into the basement was filled with the steady hum of conversation, but all Aziraphale could hear was the contented purr inside his own chest.

Breann cornered him in the food line, laying a hand on the arm tucked into Crowley’s. Her eyes wide, she looked ready to pounce on the both of them. “Well? Are you going to introduce me?”

Aziraphale realized he wasn’t prepared in the least. He’d imagined this moment for a long, long time. Taking charge of his narrative and finally being his true self.

But he found he didn’t have the desire to rub his private life in everyone’s noses. He was happy, and Crowley was amazingly – everything. And what did it matter what nosy, chaotic Breann thought of him?

“Anthony Crowley,” his escort said, voice full of pride and joy. “Professor of Cosmology at the U. Pleasure to meet you.”

Breann was instantly smitten. She practically gushed as Crowley shook her hand. “Oh! You’re a professor too!”

“Yup! Not as intelligent and handsome as Aziraphale here, but apparently he finds me worthy of his companionship!”

Aziraphale silently watched the back and forth, loving the way Crowley stroked the inside of his wrist. Held him tightly as he answered Breann’s unending questions. Unashamed and Unbothered.

They tested various hotdishes and buns, were tempted by a table full of sugary treats. They drank the crappy percolated coffee and Crowley greeted everyone with that same dashing smile. Aziraphale sat by him like the wallflower he was, and when it was time to leave, when people began to make their way up the stairs to gather their coats, he discovered the tightness in his chest and the ache in his gut was much more urgent than he thought.

Aziraphale dragged Crowley out into the cold, ignoring the surprised laugh and delayed trotting to catch up as they made way for the car. Panting, desperate and whipped, Aziraphale flung open the back door before Crowley could reach the passenger side.

He sunk into the backseat and gazed expectantly up at Crowley where he stood outside, mouth agape and eyes sparkling.

“What are you –?”

Aziraphale snatched him by the lapel and yanked him inside.

Even if the windows hadn’t been tinted to prevent outsiders from seeing in. Even if they hadn’t been witnessed by shocked patrons as they headed for their own cars. Even if the thought of Breann excitedly sharing the news that Aziraphale had a boyfriend wasn’t racing through his mind. Aziraphale would have still fisted Crowley’s loose locks and hauled him into a crushing kiss before the door closed them off to the world outside.

“Ngk,” Crowley toned, garbled and muffled by the urgency of Aziraphale’s mouth on his. One knee rested on the seat between Aziraphale’s thighs, one hand gripped the driver’s headrest hard enough to leave indents.

Aziraphale trapped him close, encouraged him with everything he had to fall into the luxurious seat, to mold their bodies together and the hell with everyone else.

“‘Ziraphale,” Crowley said as he finally gave in and sank down with all his weight.

Aziraphale gasped for breath but loved every crushed inch of it.

“What’s come over you, you impish fiend, you?”

Aziraphale groaned and collected two handfuls of perfect ass. “You,” he wheezed, squeezing tightly and grinding up against every part of Crowley that he could. “You and your — your everything!”

Crowley chuckled low and allowed his neck to be mauled. He shifted ever so slightly to slot their tingly bits more firmly together.

“You can have it, Angel,” he laughed, voice filled with sunshine. “You can have every part of me. And you have no idea how fucking turned on you’ve made me. Kissing me like this, in the back seat of my car, on consecrated ground and before the eyes of the lord.”

Aziraphale scoffed and nosed greedily at Crowley’s sternum. He, too, was well on the path of a flat-out scandal.

“I think,” Crowley began, arching his back slightly to allow Aziraphale access to that lovely low neckline. “I think that we should make out until every last car is gone. And then I think I should desecrate your body and take you hot, hard, and fast.”

It was a disgusting groan that escaped Aziraphale’s throat. He found Crowley’s nipple beneath his shirt with his tongue and said the only thing that made any sense at all.

“Amen to that.”

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#ineffable husbands #aziracrow #crowley #aziraphale #human au

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toastedjeans · 2 months ago

Text

Introducing...

TOWER OMENS

A Good Omens and Pizza Tower crossover AU! Because apparently i love combining stuff that couldn't be more different from each other and seeing how it fits.

HEADS UP! If you aren't familiar with Good Omens or haven't seen the series yet, i highly recommend you ignore this post. There will be spoilers! Block the tag "#Tower Omens" for future posts if necessary.

With that out of the way, let's get right into it! [LOTS OF TEXT AHEAD I'M SO SORRY]

But before we look at the characters, a thing i want to mention is that instead of London, most of the events will take place somewhere in Italy. That means that some events, locations, and references will be different from the source material. You'll see what exactly i mean when we get to the timeline changes.

Oh also this will be pepstavo heavy. Because it's my AU and I'm predictable.

Anyway, here's the characters + the percentage of how likely it is they'll keep that role

Peppino as Crowley [1000%]

For being a demon, he's actually a surprisingly good person, and would never hurt anyone innocent. He fell cause he got mad one too many times, and now he's got trauma from the Fall. Other demons don't trust him and keep making his existence harder than it already is. He hates being reminded of the angel he once was, it makes him feel like a failure. Despite that, he would never want to become an angel again, in fear of falling again and going through the same traumatic experience a second time. Also Maurice is up there.

Instead of a snake, his animal form is a cow. No, not a bull. For reasons. His demonic mark is a big mole, burn mark, or scar in the form of a cow's head/skull located on his upper arm.

Instead of the Bentley, Peppino will drive an old Vespa, AND he'll be the one with an establishment. So instead of Aziraphale's bookshop, there will be Peppino's pizzeria! His pizzas are the best in town, not because he yells at them to be better, but because he's just so passionate about cooking. He has small horns he has to hide underneath various hats, and unlike Crowley, he can only marginally change his hair. Sure, he can make them longer, but he'll remain bald so he won't ever be able to hide the horns underneath hair. Usually he wears a chef's hat, and only takes it off around someone he trusts. Also, because of the anxiety, he's a terrible liar.

Lastly, he absolutely hates rats, and only tolerates them when he sees how sweet Gus is to them. But he would never hurt them of course. He just thinks they shouldn't be anywhere near him. Ever. But spoiler alert, he warms up to them cause of Gustavo.

Gustavo as Aziraphale [1000%]

As an angel, he's a good person, but he can still be mischievous at times. He can hide his nervousness pretty well, therefore he is a decent liar, and always here to help Peppino out of a situation when he can't come up with a lie himself. He's very powerful and can get extremely scary when angered. You know he'll kick Maurice's ass once he finds out how he used to treat Peppino.

Gus used to just make food appear with miracles, but after asking Peppino why he didn't do it as well, Pep teaches him how to cook. He sees how passionate he is and how much he's enjoying himself, so he starts to enjoy it a lot as well. They then become coworkers in the pizzeria.

He's more comfortable with experimenting with clothes, so he will appear more feminine in various eras, and sometimes still with the moustache because yes. He has an affinity for animals, especially rats. Instead of magic tricks, he will train rats and then do a little rat circus show (he doesn't harm them of course). Sometimes he feeds rats after shifts and talks to them, basically to keep them out of the pizzeria while Peppino is near.

Maurice as Metatron [95%]

Our favorite scumbag. He used to bully Peppino relentlessly, and still keeps insulting him even when he's not around. But he shuts up around Gustavo cause he's incredibly afraid of him, but won't ever admit it. Knows how powerful he can get. Is always kinda aggressive, but mostly just talks shit and threatens anyone who crosses him with The Fall™. Since he's God's right hand everyone is kinda afraid of him. Hates Noisette and is glad when she disappears and later on leaves

Ziti as Muriel [100%]

They have absolutely no clue what they're doing, but they're doing their best. Afraid of pretty much everyone, especially higher ranking angels since they're authority (yes, even Burton). An even more terrible liar than Peppino. They've never been treated with kindness before, so they grow attached to Peppino and Gustavo really quickly.

They pose as a health inspector instead of police (and i can make them wear a suit!!!). Gus shows them some rats and they immediately fall in love with them. Of course they don't know anything about Earth, as far as they're concerned, rats in the kitchen are a normal thing. Pests? No, look at them, they're too cute to be pests! (Also side note, as much as i still don't quite like Ziti as much, they're perfect for Muriel. I can't see anyone else in that role!)

Noise as Beelzebub [95%]

You know he hates Peppino. When he's in hell, he wears his suit, and his rat ears and tail are visible. But when on Earth (he doesn't come there often, he hates it), he sometimes wears his regular outfit to hide his ears and tail. It's really uncomfortable to him though. Instead of flies, he has fleas who are always surrounding his head. They look like tiny Noisys :).

He'd never admit it but he has a huge crush on Noisette. Even gave Noisette a flea container that now lives in her bunny hood.

Noisette as Gabriel [95%]

First off, major change from the series, hear me out. She's besties with Gustavo. While she's sort of the leader of Heaven, she sometimes lets herself get pushed around by other archangels when there's things she doesn't wanna do. Like punishing Gustavo after the failed Armageddon event. She still feels bad that she had to do this.

Other than that, she's oblivious as hell (pun not intended). She loves spending time with Noise and doesn't care that he's a demon. Or maybe she doesn't quite realize. I mean, he's nice to her, and he's funny. Anyway, even on Earth she keeps her bunny hood up, almost like it's part of her.

As Jim, she will be called Hazel. Since i don't want her to come back naked she just doesn't have the bunny hood on. It triggers her memories but she gets headaches from them, so she can only keep wearing it after getting her memories back. One of Noise's fleas is always on her and she keeps accidentally almost killing it by scratching herself.

Mr Stick as Michael [70%]

Really wants to be in charge, but he doesn't know what he's doing. He relies on the other archangels to do his job but he still wants to be the leader. Just. Without the responsibilities or having to make choices. He thinks he's extremely smart and knows everything better than anyone else. But when tested he insists that everyone else is tricking him or cheating (his waluigi side is showing...). Wants to be intimidating but i mean look at him. He's a twig. I could snap him in half with one hand. And I'm damn weak.

Burton as Sandalphon [70%]

Another one who's very different from the series. He's sweet and polite, but can be a little intimidating due to being Very Large™. He wouldn't hurt a fly though. He's also very good friends with Gustavo and Noisette, but like Noisette, he's sometimes pressured into being mean or cruel - such as attempting to kill Gus - by the other archangels

Fake Peppino as Shax [85%]

He'll be called Bruno in this. He never met Peppino despite looking like him, and being his replacement after Pep got banned from Hell. When angered, he can get extremely intimidating, but mostly he just doesn't quite understand how humans work. His speech is reversed, and only demons can understand him, but others can learn to understand him if they take the time.

He appears more goopy in Hell, like his in game sprite, and looks like the Nothing Compares guy when on Earth, but still can't speak normally. He either uses sign language when having to talk to humans, or just gestures around. Or he thinks he's doing sign language but actually just says gibberish.

In the end when Noise and Noisette are reunited, he gets promoted to Duke of Hell by Noise, but he doesn't want the position so he gives it to someone else.

Pizzahead as Lucifer; Pizzaface as Satan [99%]

Look. If Satan and Lucifer are the same character, then both are just different forms. In my head at least. Pizzaface is Satan (more demonic, huge, gets destroyed), and Pizzahead is Lucifer (more humanoid, human height, may return later).

While PF is more for intimidation, PH is more for visiting Earth in secret or when having to go through the Hell offices. PF created Fake Peppino and the Peppi clones, nobody knows why he seems to be so obsessed with Peppino that he keeps making demons in his image.

Pepperman as Uriel [89%]

He just really wants to get rid of Gustavo. He may look silly but he can be extremely intimidating, and way stronger than he looks. Selfish as heck. I want him to always wear a feather boa, both in his angel form and in his human form. And also i want him to look a bit androgynous. Genderfluid icon. Idk where his art would come into play but I'll find a way probably. Maybe his art form is fashion. So he's always wearing some kinda extravagant clothes, at least when he's on earth. Plus the feather boa.

Vigilante as Hastur [85%]

Basically looks the same as in game while in Hell, but with horns on his cowboy hat. On Earth he looks like a human cowboy. Idk how else to describe it lol. Even if he didn't like Doise very much, he's still mad at Peppino for killing him. He witnesses the Holy Water™ incident and tells Noise, but Noise doesn't believe him.

Doise as Ligur [95%]

Looks very similar to Noise, but unlike him, Doise isn't a rat, but a raccoon. Him and Vigi didn't really like each other that much, but they still preferred each other's company over anyone else's (especially Noise's). He dies via Holy Water but it's not as straightforward as you'd think (explanation below)

Peddito as the Holy Water [95%]

This secret special liquid is made for angels to kill demons easier. When thrown to the ground, it shapes into a sort of clone of the being who used it, but with hollow eyes, which is supposed to confuse or scare the opponent. It has the same strengths and weaknesses as the original, but without fears or other pesky feelings in the way. Since Peppino throws it, it will turn into a form that resembles himself. The liquid will then chase and kill the first thing it sees, in our case Doise, and then vanish with him. Like, he'll just vaporize or something. Only angels know about this weapon, and it is only used in extreme situations.

Peppiclones as Eric (disposable demon) [100%]

There's just. So many of them. Sometimes they get in a fight and kill each other before someone can give them instructions. Feral. Fake Peppino hates them cause they tend to get on his nerves quickly and rarely listen to him (which is impressive since it takes a lot to make him angry or annoyed)

Brick as the Hellhound [100%]

Brick will start out as a Bad Rat, and will turn into a Stupid Rat once given a name. Yes, she will still be gigantic. But she's the only giant rat, all the others are normal sized. Won't stay with Fungo, i really want her to stay with Gustavo (or at least reunite later on?). I don't care there has to be a reunion between them. Maybe Fungo is going to college and can't keep Brick, and the parents can't provide anymore. Idk. I love Brick i want her and Gus to stay friends

The Toppins as the Them & Warlock [101%]

Mushroom as Adam -> human name Fungo

Cheese as Wensleydale -> human name Gio (short for Formaggio)

Tomato as Brian -> human name Tom

Sausage as Warlock -> human name Saul or Soos

Pineapple as Pepper -> human name Pina

Pizzelle as Maggie [75%]

She's hopelessly in love with Rosette, but way too anxious to talk to her. Actually isn't sure if Rosette is flirting with her or if she's that nice to every customer. Sometimes she says things before thinking about them and regrets it later (she lets the demons into the pizzeria). Keeps thinking she's not good enough for Rosette or that she hates her

Rosette as Nina [75%]

She owns a cafe and bakery. Always has a smile on her face and is sweet to everyone she meets. She did just go through a breakup with her toxic partner, but tries to downplay it by acting like nothing happened. Actually didn't realize her partner was really manipulative and controlling until talking to Pizzelle about it when they're shut in during the power outage. She's not quite ready for a new relationship yet but keeps Pizzelle in mind, they're besties for the time being :)

Pizzano as Mr. Brown [55%]

He's an aspiring actor, but can sometimes be too much in his role, so that he keeps convincing himself that Pizzelle is his arch rival. He makes videos/short films on the internet (i don't wanna say he's an influencer but it goes in that direction). He doesn't quite have a crush on Gustavo, but he enjoys his company a lot more than Peppino would like.

✨ Timeline changes ✨

|| Before the beginning ||

Peppino used to be an archangel, he had bigger wings and hair (sorry Pep). Like Crowley, he created the stars but he used something like an oven for it, or maybe a cauldron. He used to be kinda apathetic towards other angels, and only liked creating stars. But he does eventually talk to Gustavo cause he seems genuinely interested in what he does, and nobody ever showed appreciation towards him or his work. Maurice was already a total asshole to him, which obviously angered Peppino, and then he just let him fall one day, stating that he wasn't behaving like an angel should.

Gustavo was a kinda low tier angel, basically just a messenger for other angels. Nice to every angel he meets in hopes of becoming friends. Unlike Aziraphale, he won't immediately be in love with Peppino at first sight but he talks to him more often than others so he starts feeling attached quicker.

|| In the beginning (4004 BC) ||

Peppino unintentionally made Eve eat the apple cause he bumped into the tree in his animal form and it landed directly in front of her. He's first on the wall cowering cause he feels guilty. Then Gustavo joins him and tries lifting the mood a little bit. He's aware that it was the plan to let the humans out but didn't know how. Tries reassuring Pep that he didn't do anything wrong. His weapon would probably be a flaming spear or lance. Or a big pizza shovel thing idk.

|| Bildad Era (Land of Uz 2500 BC) ||

Peppino won't tempt Gustavo to eat food, he's too worried about him falling. Since he has trauma from the fall he doesn't want Gus to go through the same thing so he tries to keep him from indulging too much. But Gustavo always wanted to try food. He knows that he won't get into too much trouble for eating food so he risks it.

|| Knight time (Wessex 537 AD) ||

Peppino is basically in the knight transformation, while Gustavo looks kinda like he appears on the Bloodsauce Dungeon title card. He's actually the one suggesting the arrangement, and Pep refuses more out of fear.

|| French Revolution (Paris 1793) ||

Peppino is the one getting captured. Idk why yet. Anyway, it's like Pig City where Gus has to break Pep out. That was my whole thought

|| Grand opening (deleted scene 1809) ||

Peppino opens his pizzeria for the first time. Noise, Vigilante and Doise visit him, congratulating him (begrudgingly) on spreading the Great Plague of Marseille (France 1720). They heard that Peppino was in France somewhere in the 1700s, but didn't fact check any further. He has no idea what's going on. They then tell him to look out cause there's an angel on Earth in the same area, and if he sees them he can just kill them anyway (maybe they make fun of him for being easily scared). Noise says that Da Boss (PH) wants him to come back to Hell and work side by side with him for some reason, he's pissed as hell (pun intended this time)

Meanwhile Gustavo wanted to congratulate Pep on the opening. When he sees the other demons, he hides, but listens in on the whole conversation. Is more careful since Vigilante has very good senses, and Pep doesn't notice him either. He then basically does what Crowley does in that scene, but leaves a little gift for Pep with a note that implies that he made the demons leave. Pep continues not knowing what's going on.

|| Holy water park break up (1862) ||

Peppino asks for holy water just in case of emergencies, but Gustavo refuses. He won't get angry at him, but more worried, so he offers Peppino his angel ring. It functions like a sort of communication device, so Gus would always know when Pep is wearing it. He tells him to put it on when he needs help or someone to talk to. Pep gets pissed, not only because he didn't get the holy water, but also cause he thinks Gus is making fun of him cause of the ring (also maybe he gets a bit flustered). He runs off and throws the ring back at him.

|| War (1941) ||

Peppino somehow became not just part of the mafia, but the boss. He doesn't know how that happened. His outfit will be inspired by Evil Pep. While he does have experience with using guns, it makes him anxious. He remembers when he was forced to kill others, and freezes up when he has to hold a gun. Sometimes smokes a cigar for intimidation purposes, but actually hates smoking, and will have a coughing fit. Goes by Mr. Spaghetti.

Instead of books, Gustavo delivers lab rats. He wanted to rescue them but either the Mafia or Mussolini want to test various nuclear weapons or whatever on them. Idk why. He gets so upset when he realizes the rats were killed by the bomb, but Peppino revives them, even though he hates rats, and gives them back to Gus. Gustavo is officially smitten.

|| 1967 ||

Peppino is for some reason still a mafia boss. Still wants holy water and wants his goons to bring it to him, but Gustavo stops him. He brings him a flask of special Holy Water, and tries again with offering his ring. He adds that he should see it as a reminder that he'll always be there for him when he needs him. Peppino accepts the ring this time. Since it's an angel ring it either burns or itches and he'll get a rash from it, so he wears it around a necklace. From this point on Peppino is seen wearing the ring around his neck, and Gustavo will not have one anymore. He also doesn't replace it. Also i thought maybe Gus appears more feminine here but still with a moustache because yes. I haven't figured out the outfit yet but i think this could be neat.

|| Nanny time ||

Peppino becomes a home tutor instead of a nanny. He's generally nervous around children, and doesn't wanna do or say anything wrong to them. He's afraid that he makes them cry or upset cause then he'll start to panic. Just like me fr.

Gustavo will appear feminine, as a personal cook for the family. He'll have old cartoon granny vibes, a dress with a cutesy lacey apron with hearts on it, long hair in a bun, and big cute oven mitts. Kinda like that one Granny Gnome in Gnome Forest.

|| Angel Disguise ||

During the pizzeria invasion, Peppino goes to Heaven with Ziti and disguises as an angel, wearing his white hoodie and cap with sunglasses. He'll try to be as authentic as possible so he also wears the ring Gus gave him and kinda forgets it gives him a rash (and also that Gus now thinks something's wrong). Then basically the same things happen as in the series, but with the addition of a very worried Gustavo.

While looking for the Clue™, Gustavo will wear an outfit that's kinda like a mix between Aziraphale and The G sugary spire. Also he will drive that Vespa, even if he doesn't have a license. He promises Peppino to keep it safe of course.

Okay that was a lot. I'll update this post whenever i change some characters around. Still need to figure out Dagon and Furfur (and some others from S1), plus Gerome and John. Hopefully I'll get these roles and characters figured out soon :)

#toast talk #pizza tower #pizza tower au #tower omens #peppino spaghetti #gustavo pizza tower #pizza tower oc #pizzasona #toast ocs #still not gonna tag everyone I'm a lazy piece of ham #also not gonna tag good omens. the fandom is too big and it scares me :(#this will probably devolve into its own thing eventually anyway so like. no need to tag #also the chance is higher that more people will See This if i tag it and I'm not ready for that #I'm already overwhelmed with like 10 notes so yea #anyway ramble over

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