#the grey stuff is delicious unless you're at WDW where it's literally just the same icing they serve on everything just colored grey

[sparkkeyper]

@sweathands​ did art for this AU and it inspired me to write more for it (so I’ve basically been listening to “If I Can’t Love Her” for four days straight) so HERE YOU GO PEOPLE. I’m not smart in the ways of tagging folks who want to be tagged in things because I’m always going to forget or miss people, so OP is the only one I’ll tag. (Also I saw an ask just before posting this of someone else wanting to continue this AU, and I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes or enthusiasm so heck yeah friendos write to your heart’s content, this is my continuation but the world wants yours as well.)

There will be more coming later once my homework is finished.

There may come a day when my procrastination fails and I get an AO3 account, but it is not this day!

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The dinner provided by the castle servants was wonderful, in Aziraphale’s opinion. A number of dishes were placed in front of him and he was sure to sample at least a little from each. There were soups, there were pies, there were roasts, and he wasn't quite sure what the grey stuff was, but it was delicious.

Across the ornate table, Crowley watched him eat. The snake’s meal had consisted of two or three plucked waterfowl – Aziraphale hadn’t looked closely but he wasn’t entirely sure they’d been cooked – which he’d swallowed whole immediately. That was apparently it for him as far as food was concerned, though drink seemed another matter entirely. The end of his tail stayed wrapped around an oversized goblet, one durable enough that he had no trouble lifting it to periodically pour wine down his throat. Now, though, his coils were draped lazily over the chair in only the barest approximation of sitting, eyes on his dinner companion.

“Finding your way around so far, are you?”

“Yes, thank you,” Aziraphale nodded over a forkful of potatoes. “I haven’t had much time yet to look around but it’s still a refreshing change from the cell.”

“Castle treating you all right then?”

“Just fine, I think, if a bit sparsely decorated. I'm afraid I haven't much point of reference. I've never spent time in an enchanted castle before.”

“Demonic castle,” Crowley corrected coolly, tipping wine down his throat and having the glass quickly refilled again. “We are, all of us, damned.”

“So that makes you a demon then?”

“Suppose it must.” The snake eyed him with something approaching fondness. “That doesn't frighten you.” It wasn’t a question.

Aziraphale shrugged. “It did at first, I’ll admit. You were oh-so-furious about the rosebush and I’d never had a snake speak to me before, much less swear so viciously. But you’ve been quite nice since then.”

Something dangerous flashed through the yellow eyes. “I am not nice. That’s something you’d better get through your head quickly, Angel, before you get yourself into trouble. You have no idea what I’m capable of. I am not nice.”  

“Dually noted,” Aziraphale nodded, unconvinced. “But I am curious as to what this whole business is all about. For example, why is there an ench- excuse me - a demonic castle just off by itself in the woods, populated by such…colourful entities as yourself and your servants? The furniture I spoke to earlier said something about being Forgiven-”

“That's not for you to concern yourself with,” Crowley cut him off. “While I admire the curiosity, in this case the answer makes no difference. It is what it is and it’s not likely to change anytime soon.” Snake coils shifted in the impression of an exaggeratedly-careless shrug. “No sense in you worrying about it, really.”

“I see. Though come to think of it, when you said ‘we are all damned’, did that include me?”

“What? No,” Crowley waved the wine goblet dismissively. “You weren’t within the castle grounds when the curse was cast so you’re fine.”

“So there’s a curse!” Aziraphale smacked the table triumphantly.

Crowley sputtered, starting a dozen different words and not finishing any of them. Finally he settled back into his chair, caught somewhere between irritation and admiration. “All right, fine, I’ll give you that one. Clever one, aren’t you? Yes, there’s a curse but it won’t affect you. It’s best not to think on it too hard, no reason to get worked up about it. I do want you to be at ease in the castle since you’ll be staying here forever.”

Aziraphale paused with a bite of blueberry tart halfway to his mouth as the words sank in. “Oh,” he said quietly.

Crowley perked up at his tone. “‘Oh.’ What's the ‘oh’ for?”

“It's just…forever?”

“Yes, what about it?”

“Well, forever is quite a long time.”

“Yeah, that's why they call it ‘forever.’”

Aziraphale set the dessert fork down on his plate unfinished. “I had rather hoped that this would be a temporary engagement. Not that I haven't enjoyed the company, all things considered. It has been a very nice distraction from the normal grind of things…”

“Dissstraction?” Crowley hissed, slighted.

“But I had expected I'd...you know, serve out a sentence of some sort for a given length of time and then return to the village.”

“Yeah no, doesn't work like that. You're better with books than any of this lot.” He jerked the goblet at the servants' door. “I’ve ordered you to stay, and you will stay. You'll choose a room you like and that will be that. You will do whatever pleases you until lunchtime, dine with me at meals, and for the rest of the afternoon and evening you will read aloud to me.”

“Oh will I?” Aziraphale's eyebrow quirked halfway between amusement and indignation.

Crowley stared back at him with unblinking slitted eyes. “Yes,” he said seriously. “You will.”

“And if I should refuse this…this structuring of the rest of my life?”

“Then you’re welcome to spend the rest of your days reading to me from your cell in the dungeon,” Crowley answered darkly. “It’s a good offer and you really ought to take it. We've been getting on well; I don't see what your problem is.”

“My problem is that I am a person, not an automaton to read to and entertain you at your leisure. I have a home of my own and a duty to the business that I run there, and I should like to return to it at some point.”

Crowley rose slowly from the chair, towering above the table. If he’d been a cobra, Aziraphale imagined he’d be flaring his hood. “You'll remember that you are my prisssssoner,” he hissed icily.

“Well then I should like to appeal to your better nature-”

The snake let out a harsh, barking laugh. “Better nature! Need I remind you who you're dealing with, Angel? I'm a demon. I don't have a better nature.”

“Surely we could bargain down to a shorter timeframe-”

“You will sssstay and you will like it!” Crowley’s jaws snapped the air above the table with an awful sound of finality.

“Fine.” Aziraphale was unable to hold back the sarcasm as he took the napkin from his lap and folded it across his plate in preparation to stand. “Just fine. I don't know what I would tell the others when I returned anyway. I'm sure they'd all be thrilled to hear that I was fraternising with a demon.”

“Fraternissse!” In one fluid motion the snake was across the table, and Aziraphale pressed himself backwards into the chair as the fangs gleamed inches from his face. “Undersssstand thissss, or I’ll make sssure you never have anyone to fraternissse with ever again: What I want, I keep. Get comfy, Angel. Thisss place will either be your home or your grave. Your choicccce.”

And he slithered from the hall, the door slamming shut behind him.  

Hear me out:

A Good Omens... Beauty and the Beast AU.

That is all.