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#crowley is just like that and its so pathetic and good of him
bunshr00m · 15 days
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Do you have any good omens head cannons?
when "the them" get older they still bring up that one time adam went all evil when they're annoyed w him
anathema thought she didn't wanna date until she met newt and realized her type was just very pathetic boys and she hadn't met a pathetic enough boy
for some reason i think muriel would get asked out a lot on earth but at first they wouldn't realize they're dates so they're just happily cruising along being an absolute player. after realizing they'd be like "so if i just keep making lip contact with my dates they'll purchase more human sustenance for me? what an interesting trading system!"
i also headcanon that muriel is a lesbian though because i sense my own
gabriel finds flies on him a lot. in pockets, in hair, in his teeth. beezlebub just wants him to have lil friends
nina isn't very good at expressing affection so she'd do it really awkwardly. she'd hand someone a trinket, say "its yours" and then leave without explaining anything.
maggie hates nina's ex more than anyone. if she ever met them she'd give them a proper little smack. also i can see her as the "with all due respect, which is none..." meme
this one is basically canon but crowley makes fun of aziraphale for saying such british things despite also being british. "just popping off to the loo :)" "jUsT pOpPiNg OfF tO tHe LoOoOo"
finally i think crowley eats burnt ass toast bc he's just weird like that.
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twisted-gremlin · 3 months
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Platonic yandere first years!
Ace(sibling):
- he is overly protective of Yuu, makeing sure that they are by him at all times
- he was glad that they can't use magic but has alot of mixed feelings about them following him to NRC
- he practically begged Crowley to let Yuu into Heartsbyul- but there was no room (he didn't mind shareing his bed- but, his roommates better leave you alone)
- he invites you to every celebration! Why? Oh Trey was worried you're not eating enough in that shack with the greedy rat-
- he isn't strong enough to actually kill, but he is cunning enough to manipulate people, trying to get a boyfriend without his permission- hey look at all this homework- oh he wants to break up and hates you? Oh big brother is here for you-
- you're never leaveing your bother♡
Deuce(sibling)
- he is worried that his baby sib is gonna go down the path he did- he made sure that any gangs would never take you in, but would beat to death whoever dared lay their hand on you- its ok- he and mom is there to hold you and protect you-
- his mom sent you to NRC so that he could protect you, and he swore to her that he would.
- he allways walked with you to class, he even made you join the track club, Jack was trustworthy, right?
- you have some things you are allowed to do on your own, just be careful, of anything goes wrong and he finds out, he isn't letting you do that stone again
Jack(bestie)
- he saw you as like a little cub that was lost and alone when he first saw you
- as you two grew to know one another, he did his best to take care of you. Hungury? He has some extra food, it's not like he bought it just for you- cold? Idiot, you need a scarf- so what it has his sent? You'll be protected from other beastmen who may want to pick on you
- he greets you every day and walks you to class (like he did with ruggie), if he has the time he waits outside of your class and walks you to your next one
- he wont let you think about going home, why go home when you have it so great here? I'm sure none could love you like he does, or even protect you like he can when you're at home-
Epel(sibling):
- excuse me- he is the man here- he can take care of ya- why are you laughin-
- Epel beats the snot out of those who try to hurt his sweet and innocent baby sib- they are a sweet apple tart- none hurts em-
- Epel before Vils traning was much- much more aggressive towards others, with a slight sweetness. But now, he acted more sweet and innocent until the time came where his opponents was in their backs
- now he uses thar cuteness to ask to hangout and stay by your side. You can't exactly say no because... look at that face-
Ortho (sibling):
- in life, you weren't all that close to Ortho- he and Idia were allways hanging out with eachother.
- then the accident happend, now you can get rid of the fake brother or your older Otaku brother-
-you're at NRC because of said Otaku, so while he was in class, you got to do whatever you wanted- and a certain robot followed your every move
- if Ortho evaluated someone as a threat they would be exterminated as soon as possible.
- you tired to get him to leave you alone, to make his own friends and learn about others. But he would make his following you a bit more... subtle...
- while he tried to get his big brother outside, he kept you inside. He played games with both you and Idia, to keep you content and stay
- need anythjng? He will get it for you, he wants to be a good brother for you- so you don't have to linger in your hurt anymore- so you didn't have to be alone anymore-
Sebek(friend/Maleus' bestie)
- you as a pathetic human from another world had caught the eye of Malleus, so, he needed to vet the human to he sure they were good for his master
- his first meeting with you was interesting to say the least. Despite your conditions (and his attitude) you treated him kindly and sat down with him and had an array of tea and baked sweets (courtesy of the Heartsbyul bois)
- he started to see why his master took a likeing to you, you were sweet, a good listener, and even interesting. He just, couldn't understand why you would want to return to your boring world?
- his master would take amazing care of you- even extend you life! All you had to do was ask!
- so why are you breaking their hearts and asking for help going home...?
- maybe... your mirror could be broken? This Mickey is a distraction, and they had room in Diasomnia, he will keep gaurd of your room, it'll be by Malleus'!
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msxrik · 9 months
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. . ."Ill give you a real lesson". . .
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☾ Content- /oral, dom!male!reader, slutshaming, virgin/subby!Idia, overstimulation, orgasm denial, fingering,/dubcon
☾ Pairing- Idia x Male/afab/reader. (the reader is from savanaclaw cuz jock x loser is the best and yeah the reader has ears and a tail. And idia has makeup on idk if his lips r blue naturally but)
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Idia was nowhere to be seen for the last... days, weeks even. You started to worry about him as you two grew a little closer after ditching P.E once a week, he hates sports and you're just lazy. Now that you think about it, you haven't seen him since Crowley decided to add sex-ed classes, and during the first class you caught him staring. not that you mind....
You decided to go to his dorm later that day knocking on his door
"On god Ortho i told you im fine! and yees im doing ALL my work, im not playing games non stop!!"
yeah yeah of course... after a short while you entered the room as quiet as you could hoping you could scare him... oh my god it smelled awfull in there, and you know exactly what smells like that, god damnit he was jerking off for the last week, and he didnt even bother to throw away most of the used tissues. and you were so worried???
"c'mon nerd we're going to my place" you slurred out as he turned around fucking petrified.
"how did you-"
"your fucking deaf you know that? come on it smells disgusting in here..." a single drop of sweat ran down his face, he got so nervous as he got up and followed you to savanaclaw, he was hiding behid you the whole walk, when you finally reached your room it was getting dark outside. He sat down on your bed playing with his fingers mumbling something to himself.
"sooo why did you bring me here....?" he asked nervously looking everywhere but at you.
"remember that sex ed lesson last week? the one you were staring at me for the 45 minutes we sat there?''
"yeah.. no! i mean no. i wasnt lookingat you i was-"
"you were what? maybe you were thinking about me fucking you?"
idia officialy lost it he looked like he was about to pass out. As he was looking at the floor boards you got on the bed and sat right behind him leaning your face on his shoulder, he jumped slightly as you whispered to his ear.
"what? i mean you missed one lesson so maybe ill tutor you? so you dont get behind??"
"o-oh god, n-no im fine, really- m-mnhh~.." he yelped as you gently brushed your fingers across his hardening cock,
"oh come on, how old are ya' its pathetic you know, you never touched anybody beside yourself.... ill take good care of you~"
after a short moment of silence he nodded his head, still too flustered to say anything. as you sat him down between your legs undoing your belt.
"go ahead, use that knowledge from your pathetic little novels"
For some reason your words only aroused him more, he moved closer to you, his shaky hands lowered your boxers and you hummed gently when your lenght rested on his face, the pure shock on his face only made it better.
"What. Never seen a dick before? Or is it to big."
"t-thers no way thats gonna fit- it won- M-Mnh...~" he moaned as you slipped your tip past his lips
"come on open up that pretty mouth of yours"
He eventually did hiding his pride in his pocket bobbing his head gagging slightly when you hit the back of his throat, blue lipstick allover your lenght
"Fuuck your so bad at this" you tangled your hands into his hair as it turned that pretty pink color.
"are you getting off on this? God you really are a loser. A perverted one too"
You pressed the tip of your shoe on his crotch earning a loud yelp from him as you giggled at his reaction. You held his head in place as you fucked his throat
"fuck gonna cum...~" you pulled out pumping your lenght over his face, as he opened his mouth so you can avoid making a mess
"thats a good boy~"
"W-wha- Y-Y/n.. owhh~ t-this is.. Humiliating g-god."
He licks you lets say "clean" after you finish avoiding eye contact at all cost. You pulled him in bending him over on your knee sliding two of your fingers covered in all the cum he missed knuckles deep inside him as he whined
"you are feeling good tho? I can feel your dick twitch against my leg, never knew you were such a slut.."
He cried out in response, making a mess allover your black sweatpants
"c-cumming..F-fuuuck... Mnh Y-y/n im-"
"did you just come over my fingers? Or was it the degradation? God 'ya really are a pervert"
You flipped him over making him face the pillows sticking his ass out
"c'mon beg for me Shroud."
His hair turned another shade of pink as you sat back looking at him waiting for his cute little stutters and his begging.
"do i h-have to..? Cant you j-just do it.."
"You earn it or im leaving you like that"
"who's the pervert here...." He sighed out as he spread his ass before you
" h-hmph.... p-please Y-y/n... 'need you so badly. " He bearly hiccked up that out all flustered
"well that will do it. Thats a good little boyy~"
You said walking up to him slamming your hips against his. He was so sensitive to your touch tears running up his face
"i-i hoped mnh.. i would t-top you y-ya know.. but this feels g-good mmhm.. k-keep going please..." He was fucked dumb saying such things wich you knew you will tease him about later.
"fuck. G-gonna cum.." he moaned out
"me too.. fuck you got so tight..."
Your pace got so sloppy you didnt even pull out cumming deep inside him.
"F-fuuck... Y-y/n u-ugh...
After you catched your breath you lay down next to him.
"what are you looking so cocky for?" He asks slamming a pillow in your face
"Pftt-Haha sorry sorry... Should i help you ot to the toilet-"
"N O." he almost screamed when you said that he was already embaressed as it was..
"hate you" he said in a loving voice
"love ya too little flame"
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okay so I've been just been thinking about Aziraphale and insecurities and the general census I've gotten from this webbed-site 'that he would never shut up that's stupid.' (in a non serious way lol)
Hear me out though, Aziraphale could change his corporeal form to whatever he liked but I think that doesn't necessarily mean he wouldn't feel self conscious sometimes.
He was issued this body from the beginning like a tool or a weapon and it has been effected noticeably by hedonism and enjoying earthly pleasures, so to other angels this is weird.
like even Gabriel commented and mocked him for being chubby in s1.
so! in general i think he really likes the idea of presenting himself being a cute round sweet little pooh bear (while in reality being a fucking killing machine, an absolute badass) which separates himself from the other angels, in a perceivably subtle way he likes to look different from them, not so severe, kind and approachable and comfy, like an old couch instead of a metal chair, but hes still obviously an angel.
but sometimes i think it wouldn't be too crazy for him to wonder if the way his body is now is something Crowley could ever find attractive (sexually or otherwise), and that's really the only place where the insecurity would stem from ya know?
(plot twist: every person Crowley's ever looked at twice is only because they looked like Aziraphale, but I'm sure you knew that.)
BUT i think the idea of changing himself to be something he thought Crowley would like would be so embarrassing and would seem wholly pathetic to him right?
and it would make him sad to think that Crowley is that shallow and really this is him, the curves and the marks and ruddy face and chubby thighs and round belly are all proof of how thoroughly he's enjoyed his time on earth, feasting and relaxing and reading.
and its ironic because all of those things have been facilitated by Crowley in some form or another because he likes to tend to him.
Anthony acts of service Crowley, i would go so far as to say that the physical evidence of Aziraphales pleasure and decadence and enjoyment are super gratifying, and obviously he thinks Aziraphale is as cute as a button (and if I'm being gross on main, imo Crowley thinks Aziraphales plump curvy loveliness is red burning hot, v relatable.)
so Aziraphale could change himself into something he might think Crowley would like, but god wouldn't that just be humiliatingly vulnerable, it would be admitting too much and really he wants Crowley to want him the way that he is, it wouldn't feel good otherwise.
I'm not saying he loathes his body, otherwise he would change it of course, (and he shouldn't he's lovely) I just think his feelings on the subject are probably pretty nuanced, two or more feelings can exist at once, ya feel me?
hahaha but yeah baby you're ALREADY THERE, peak form.
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goodluckdetective · 7 months
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Fic: Safe Ship, Harbored (Tumblr Edition) Chapter 1/3
Ship: Aziraphale/Crowley
Fandom: Good Omens
Rating: PG-13
AO3
Summary: 
Six months after Aziraphale breaks his metaphorical heart, he crash lands right on the hood of Crowley’s car.
In all of Crowley’s pathetic dreams about seeing Aziraphale again, he never thought this was how it was going to go.
Notes:
There comes a time when one must dust off their keyboard and write a fix-it, not because the scene needs fixing but because sometimes you need to provide some conflict resolution to tide you over. I'm posting this in fragments just for my sanity. I'm hoping to update once a week. I have 6k total, so there's plenty still there. The title comes from The Crane Wives song of the same name. Thank you to my Beta readers Rose and @the-moon-loves-the-sea on Tumblr.
Fic is below:
Six months after Aziraphale left Crowley for a bloody promotion, Crowley woke up in the Bentley to find a beam of light shining through the front windshield. 
Crowley didn’t need to sleep in the Bentley anymore: Shax had left him his apartment and Crowley was once again in the possession of a rather plush king sized bed. It was a nice bed, Crowley had actually gone to the trouble of trying out mattresses across London before manifesting the one he wanted in his own space. However, iit was also a bed Aziraphale once (platonically) shared with him the night after what was supposed to be the end of the world, and thus it carried some baggage. So every few weeks or so, when Crowley would wake from a nightmare and reach across for a sleeping angel, he would end up walking down to his car and instead sleep in the backseat. There was no room for two beings to rest in the backseat, and it smelled like his plants, which made it superior to stuffy angels.
The Bentley however, lacked curtains, which meant that when the sun beam shone down from the heavens at three in the morning, it also shone right into Crowley’s face. Crowley hissed, tongue forking, and wiped his hand across his eyes. By the time he had found his sunglasses, the beam was already gone, no sign that it was there in the first place except a cream coloured envelope on his dashboard. From the backseat, Crowley could see his name written on the back in fresh black ink. He knew that handwriting; how could he not? He had a box full of letters written by that same hand over the centuries hidden in his flat.
Crowley regarded the letter much like one would regard a skunk in their immediate vicinity. Part of him was tempted to go back to sleep and leave the letter for the morning, where he could visit a tavern after reading its contents to get drunk. Another part of him thought of setting it on fire, if only to make a point for Heaven’s newest top archangel that he wasn’t going to correspond in the form of heavenly post. And another part of Crowley, the part that was made of jagged torn edges that mourned over the hollow pit Aziraphale left with his departure, was desperate to read every last word. As if a simple piece of paper with familiar handwriting could even sooth even a fraction of that ache.
The last part won out, though Crowley took his time crawling from the backseat into the front. It was always a pain to change spots in the car without getting out of it or teleporting, but Crowley was still snake enough to take pride in fitting through small spaces. Once he managed to sit down, he reached out for the envelope with a hand that did not shake and regarded his name on the back.
Anthony J Crowley. Not Crawley, not “adversary”, not just Crowley but the full name he’d picked for himself. This letter had to be from Aziraphale alright; even if heaven could fake Aziraphale’s handwriting, they couldn’t fake enough effort to learn and use the actual name Crowley preferred. Crowley flipped over the letter and regarded the wax seal. The wax was a ruby red, and it reminded Crowley of the colour of those apples in the Garden. He rubbed his thumb over the front and hesitated.
After a few months of getting outrageously drunk, Crowley had made an effort to try to make a life outside of Aziraphale. That was what Nina and Maggie had advised him the last time he’d been in Soho, popping into their respective shops to check in on the bookshop without actually going inside. Maggie had handed him newspaper and tabloid clippings about recovering from bad breakups, which Crowley pretended to throw away but actually read. Nina, on the other hand, had taken one look at him sitting in his car and listening to “Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac and told him he “needed to build some resilience.” 
It was pathetic, being fretted about by two mortals with only a limited understanding of his own problems, but Crowley hadn’t had the energy to resist their pushing. So he’d read the clippings, moved his things back into his flat and sought out to build something for himself for once, rather than for himself and Aziraphale. 
Crowley now owned a calendar that he sometimes used. He’d joined a community gardening group where people found his methods off-putting but not so much to be considered alarming. He reached out to Muriel (never in the bookshop, he refused to step foot into the bookshop) and sought to teach them the basics of passing as human less they blow occult beings cover for the next century. He’d even stopped by to visit Anathema for advice on blocking himself from heaven and hell, and spent twenty minutes complaining about inaccuracies of demons in some of her books.
It wasn’t a satisfying existence. He knew his many new connections were mortal, and like those mortal connections before them, would one day be taken away by Death themselves. But he wasn’t outright miserable most days, which was an improvement. He’d managed to turn the loss of Aziraphale from an open wound into a constant ache; always present but not always debilitating. Were Crowley to open this letter, he thought, he’d be ripping open the wound anew, letting in waves of fresh hurt with it. And for what? For Aziraphale to beg him to become Heaven’s choir boy? To receive instructions about how he needed to stay out of holy business? To read that he still had Aziraphale’s books about early astronomy and Azirapahle wanted them back? It really wasn’t worth it. He’d be far better off leaving the letter unread.
The problem was, well, Crowley had been the serpent of Eden for a reason. He’d always had a taste for knowledge. It was both his best trait and his most damming attribute. The tempter was weak to what it should not touch; questions, knowledge, Principalities. If he was going to break his heart even further, at least it would be on brand. 
With that thought, he opened the letter. The stationary was not the type Aziraphale favoured, too crisp with no texture. Crowley could practically smell the heaven on it; the office smell of starched suits and overpriced coffee. He unfolded it, smoothed it out and then began to read. 
It was less than six sentences. That was reason enough for alarm; Aziraphale would never write something in three words that he could accomplish in three paragraphs. He was only this brief under two circumstances; when he was furious and when he could not spare more time to write. As Crowley read, it became obvious this situation was the latter. 
If you have received this letter, I’ve failed yet again. I have no right, but I must ask one more thing of you and I implore you to listen.
Go to Alpha-Cebtarui. Or any star. Heaven is coming: please be safe. 
I’m sorry. 
Before Crowley was even done finishing the last line, he was starting the car and plotting the fastest way to get the entrance to heaven. He still had that outfit and sticker: it would work again to sneak in. If he needed to sneak in anyway; as much as Aziraphale had hurt him, he doubted he’d try to keep him out. Crowley would just go up, get this all sorted for the sake of his enjoyment of fine wine and whiskey, and then leave with as much of his dignity intact as he could muster. He pressed down on the gas and-
The Bentley for the first time in his century of owning it, did not move. Instead, the headlights shone into night and Queen’s Don’t Lose Your Head began to play. 
“Oh come on. Now is not the time to be throwing a fit.” 
The Bentley’s headlights turned off along with the engine entirely. The Queen, however, kept playing.
“Is this your way of trying to protect me? I’m a demon, I don’t have any dignity to save. Where was this level of protectiveness when I decided to drink three bottles of Jeppson’s Malort?”
The Jeppson’s Malort was a low point in his post Aziraphale sulk. After spending so much time stationed in London, Crowley had decided to leave the city where every location reminded him of soft blonde curls and a lovely smile, and do some travelling. Said travelling mostly consisted of hitting up bars across the world and drinking as much of their liquor as he could stand. The Malort, he’d encountered in a tiny hole in the wall on the Southwest Side of Chicago. After drinking three full bottles, he’d woken up in the Adler Planetarium, his drunken corrections of the stars' ages scrawled across the planetarium sky.  After that, he’d sworn off his tour and returned to London, where the grey clouds greeted his mood like an old friend. 
The Bentley still did not move. Crowley scowled, slapping his hand on the dashboard.  With his other hand, he waved the letter around.
“Look, this is important. I appreciate your concerns but I have self respect-“
The engine started with a low whine then stopped again. Crowley’s lips curled into a frown.
“Okay, I don’t, but I’m not going to let him walk all over me. He might be in real trouble and that means the world might be in real trouble. Do you want to try driving off road in space because if the world is done for, so is pavement!”
The Bentley’s lights flared on and Crowley was thrust into the steering wheel as it moved exactly one foot forward and parked there. The letter fell out of his hand with the shock and he fumbled grabbing it with his other free hand. He pressed down on the gas again and scowled.
“What in Satan’s name are you waiting for-“
After centuries of experiencing the invention known as weather, Crowley had gotten somewhat used to things falling from the sky. He’d been one of them. Rain, snow, sleet; it was all part of being on the Earth’s surface. He’d also seen some unusual things come from above, God had enjoyed some oddball signs in the early days, and thus Crowley considered himself well prepared for most things the upper atmosphere could throw at him.
When something large crashed into the front of the Bentley, grazing the front and shaking the pavement, Crowley was entirely thrown off guard.
“What the-“ Crowley sprang out of the car, the letter he’d been holding falling from his grasp. It was dark out, but with the Bentley’s headlights and his own vision, he could see the figure that had fallen in front of him. Their clothing, once clean white, was torn in places. The jacket they wore, at least 50 years out of fashion, was missing a few buttons. Face down on the pavement, they groaned like one waking up from a hangover. 
Crowley took a step forward and reached out, grabbing the figure’s shoulder to turn them on their back.  Before he move them over, he knew exactly who was in front of him; how could he not? He’d recognize those blonde-white curls anywhere. And those bright blue eyes, slightly teary but trying desperately to hold them back to save face. The same his eyes had looked the last time Crowley saw him.
“Aziraphale?” Crowley whispered. Aziraphale had a massive cut on his cheek and he looked up at Crowley and smiled. The same smile he given Crowley for thousands of years and then tried to hide. Maybe it was due to his current state, but he didn’t hide it now. Instead, his gaze drifted to the Bently and chagrined look graced his face. Like he’d been caught enjoying Crowley’s music instead of free falling right onto his car.
“Oh dear,” Aziraphale said, one hand coming up to pat Crowley on the arm. “I tried to not hit the car.”
With that, Aziraphale’s eyes rolled up into the back of his head and he passed out.
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About Yumei Hitsuji (Yuusona)
There is will trigger warning behind her usual personality, if you want to read it please read it at your own pace
I also want to brag more about her from time to time :3
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About Yume(i)
Before the current events of Twisted Wonderland, Yume was appeared first as the main protagonist.
Magicless but is pretty a smart person in general.
They say without magic, everything is hopeless.
Is it now?
Magic can beat almost everything but that is just how people see it, minds and talents alike are the main reason why everyone is unique with magic. Magic doesn’t appear so easily, it appears when the person is passionate or talented for it.
But what about the magicless? Are they just here to be treated like shit?
In truth magicless people can perform other stuff in talents than magic, strategizing stuff or any of the sort increases or helps reduce the blot.
For Yume’s case serving as magicless human with only a magical camera and Grim its just a normal thing.
And yet the camera is special.
Much to Yume(i)’s surprise the photos from the previous cycles are still saved, it makes them like a timekeeper or something but only time can tell.
They are just normal humans nothing special.
Yume appears as silent yet positive.
Yumi appears as cheerful but hides a deeper pain.
They are both magicless and yet, being magicless isn’t all that bad.
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Their story till the present
Everything would have gone well at this point, and Crowley was trying his best to give the exit to Yumi.
But….is it all there is to it?
It would have felt that her way to going home would be a massive waste of time, especially when there is no actually proof of what the actual world looks like? Everyone does have their hellos and goodbyes, but can they say a proper goodbye when there is more than meets the eyes?
The final current was the first appearance of Yume that was soon changed to be Yumi.
Knowing that everyone else would be confused as who Yume truly was, I guess it is her way of coping that her own brother is there for her at times like this (for a last resort). By simply taking his identity by rechanging her appearance from all of her expereince in potionology.
Anyone would have simply question it, but they soon forgot about it cause of the forced changed subject.
It felt pathetic for Yumi to not tell the whole truth.
Yumi soon took over Yume ever since Book 7, especially when Yume did lose to Malleus’ unexpected attack.
But after everything that happened especially in Book 8 where everyone is completely in denial of Yume(i) to go home the only thing they can do is to put them in a sleep even if its wrong but they are all villains in the end anyways.
But months has passed and everyone went from casual to….extreme worry real fast.
They need to see what is wrong with Yume(i).
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Self-relfection Arc
Before the cycle breaking into place, Yumi did appear as a girl, but due to her original appearance of a massive messier appearance it is hard to tell who that person was.
Her past is pretty straight forward and yet simple. But only for the tip of the iceberg.
She had to cope, the reality is right in front of her.
Her older twin brother Yume died by a car accident in a heavy earthquake, but she was in a daze not knowing who or why did they kill him. Till everything hits on her…. Her own family killed him.
She overblotted because of that.
Despite having no magic there will be chances that no magic users can overblot, negative emotions can summon the blot itself and will infect the person till they are at their breaking point. She asked herself did she just repeat the 500 cycles of repeat just to realize that her efforts are all for nothing?
Life is so cruel and yet so beautiful in its own ways.
It terrifying even.
She never told a single soul about herself, why even bother when they just forget about it in repeat.
All she can do is wait till her chance to go home….aka the afterlife.
Perhaps a good rest from all the cycles of pain and suffering is all she needed, but she doesn’t even know when will she wakes up.
She is facing her on sin, her own reflection.
They won’t know her pain, they wont understand her.
All she needed from them was a good memory of them before everything comes to an end.
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The truth
Is going home truly the right answer, all that is waiting for her is death itself and the afterlife.
She was born in an abusive household, Yume is her only comfort yet life took him away from her.
She had to cook, starve, suffer abuse and eat little. Appearance in her first cycle was a complete mess, hair a mess and ugly and purely skinny closer to a skeleton.
Before appearing in NRC she got herself to an accident from running away from the people who are trying to reach out to her, out of fear of being in a repeated nightmare again. She was scared, confused, and is often seen weak, and yet she knows what she is doing at the same time.
Predicting and analyzing the situation at hand and think fast before she decides on what to do.
Reads books daily till she realized that she can try other hobbies since she had the entire freedom to herself, but soon after the cycles had repeated again and again. But despite the pain she can still keep her appearance she soon has the upper idea to try other clubs to relish in the experience just experience if the words in the books are true or not.
But cooking is her massive passion, and BECAUSE she can cook her appearance went from skinny to a healthier one.
Thanks to acting and other types of talents she learns to adapt to a new persona.
Cheerful, annoying, sweet, and kind.
Keeping the smile despite all the pain, and yet she still went out of her way to comfort the boys especially those who also overblot.
It felt annoying at first but as time goes on she got used to them 100% and made sure they won’t ask her about her past.
If she actually was she just simple say it was a normal boring life as a lie.
One day in her Glorious Masqurade, she meet a man.
A total stranger who asked her for a dance and is unrecognizable by many people, yet she knew who he was. Accepting the dance she danced with him and had a normal yet deep conversation, she thought he was weird but giving the questions she got from him makes her wonder.
Is death truly the answer?
The real answer is no.
She didn’t realize till now before the cycle finally ended.
There are many opportunities that no one had ever told you, it is as tho she is tempted to reject the second chance but she can’t reject it but accept it.
Before she ask him what is her name, her throat is dry knowing who he is.
He is her incarnation.
She is the reincarnation of the puppet Executioner aka Exe.
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Aftermath
Crowley had provided Yumi the way home, but deep down everyone knows that she is just going to die anyway and her home is the afterlife itself. So the possible solution for everyone is to let her live in Twisted Wonderland but had to complete her school year as a normal person.
Sure its never a good ending, but Yumi soon knows what to do.
Assert dominance in school and achieve even greater heights.
Especially explore the world with her tho it is entirely up to her.
She is still cheerful but not faking it
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twistedoverbloat · 2 years
Text
When Yuu didn't get enough sleep.
Yuu had to stay up bc of their bitch ass lovely principal made them do HIS paper work.
So Yuu was walking to the entrance like a zombie and when they got to The First years they went to Jack "Can you carry me to class please?" Jack nodded since he saw how sleepy the perfect was. Epel gave her some suglass since it was sunny out today, Sebek made sure not to yell a lot since the last time he did while they were sleepy they fought him and won.
Ace and Deuce kept their arguments to a minimum, even Grim was on his best behavior.
The only time Yuu really snap was when they were in potions. Sadly they couldn't partner up with Epel. And got stuck with some asshole who made them do all the work, they really didn't have the energy to fight so they did it. But when they went to present it the asshole bumped into them making them rip it. The asshole looked at Yuu "DUDE ARE YOU KIDDING ME?" Everyoen saw Yuu getting insulted and yelled at Crewel was going to step in when Yuu started laughing madly.
"ha ha hA HAHAHAHAHAHAAHHA!" They snapped their head to the asshole "Listen her you PATHETIC! DUMB MOTHERFUCKER! LOW LIFE! ASSHOLE! GOOD FOR NOTHING! BOY!"
With every insult the boy lowered to the ground and Yuu grabbed the collar of his uniform "YOU WILL GO AND MAKE A FUCKING NEW ONE AND IF ITS NOT PERFECT! ONE LOTTLE MISTAKE! AND ILL WILL M U R D E R Y O U!"
The boy nodded and ran back to their lab station. Everyone was silent as Yuu took calming breaths Crewel finally got to them "Dear Puppy do you want to go now?" Yuu nodded with tears in their eyes "I'm sorry! I shouldn't have lost my temper BUT THAT IDIOT-" Crewel cut them off "It's ok I'll go get Jack so he can carry you home." Everyone snapped their head to the asshole and glared at him. Crewel went out of the class room and nodded at Grim and Epel. Grim smiled like the Cheshire "So you decided to make MY Henchman cry." Epel rolled up his sleeves. The asshole got a beating and fire set on his cloths. And was also kicked out the classroom by the students.
*back to Yuu*
Yuu was carried by Crewel to Jack's classroom. Crewel opened the History classroom and walked straight to Jack "Here big puppy watch little puppy a student made them cry." Terin was then informed what happened and he nodded. "Yes the perfect can sleep here, and I think we need tothave a talk with Crowley." He said in a dark tone 'Making a child do all his work!'. Jack was rocking Yuu to sleep since they started crying a bit. A random Savanaclaw kid had a blanket and gave it to them. Jack tha ked them and Yuu finally feel asleep.
*a few hours later*
In the cafeteria the first years went to their table they made sure to get Yuu what they liked. Yuu slowly woke up now feeling g refreshed "Hmmm what happened?" Jack set them down next to him "Some asshole made you cry and you went off on him." He gave a brief rundown. But them epel got fired up "YEAH THAT LOW LIFE HAD THE ADACITY TO-" and he went on a long rant of how you berated the boy infritn of all of the potions class. Yuu nodded as Deuce was slowly feeding them sicne they couldn't feel their hands right now and Deuce also saw how they didn't have the right coordinates to do so. Ace got fired up too "UGH I WISH I WAS THERE! I HAD FLYING PRATICE UGH I WANT TO FIGHT HIM NOW!" Little did they know the second years heard this "HUH? Shrimpy got sad because of a asshole?" Floyd said as he made a fist of his hand, Jade smiled "Hmm do you think we should threaten him?" Floyd gave a predatory smile. They looked at eachother and stocked off.
Let's just say no one messes with Yuu when their sleepy.
Also Crowley got whipped by Crewel for giving a child so much paper work to do. Terin only watched as Crowely begged for help. Sam gave the older man some snacks he liked from his shop. Aston was scoring the hits since he couldn't join.
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maryholdenofthevalley · 8 months
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Good Omens, Season 2, Episode 6 Reaction
(Contain Spoiler)
I did this reaction in a note, because I did not want to see spoiler on Discord. When we need context, I put [context] in the brackets.
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1. Crowley fake angel hopping behind Muriel like a rabbit????? SO CUTE
2. WHY KILL ERIC SO MUCH 😭😭😭😭 LEAVE HIM BEEEEEEEEE
3. Michael: lets do this
Gabriel: nu-uh
4. Shax asked if Aziraphale is Crowley's emotional support angel and I can gladly answer her with all the watching-you-eat-cake and I-like-it-when-I-rescue-you thing
5. Crowley's little encouraging hand pump to Muriel. they are so cute together.
6. Aziraphale's little terrified "ahhh" when they throw the books at demons 😭😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏🙏
7. HIS HALO
8. Eric never learn his mistake does he? To touch an angel's halo? Really?
9. ITS A FUCKING LANDMINE???
[Gabriel flashback begin]
10. They took the ineffable bureaucracy ship very seriously it seems
11. THEY REALLY TOOK IT SERIOUSLY
12. Omg they are serious. Is this how a fandom win?
13. Beelzebub likes the song, Gabriel follows, then made a miracle to keep playing it. I serious can't be sane right now.
14. THEY HANDS TOUCHED
[Beelzebub gave Gabriel the fly]
15. This is a fucking romance drama and Im living for it
16. No.
[Yeah Ineffable Bureaucracy held hand. It was not AziCrow scene.]
17. For the record, I didnt see it coming. I mean I kinda see it, but I thoughy its just my fangirl mind being delusional.
When they were going to hold hands I immediately stop and running around the house. Kneeling and crying like a pathetic bitch. I know I really say I was sobbing before but it was just dramatic talk. But I am crying right now. For real.
18. Aziraphale reaching out to Crowley I...
19. Crowley cleaning up the house before his angel comeback is so cute
(This reaction was written after 2 weeks because I have calmed down by now)
20. I kept cursing at those two for the entire confession scene. Then the kiss came and I did the same as 17 for a few minutes before I continue the episode. I was dead the entire time after that, just watching them driving and smiling in the elevator with a dumb face. When the credit end, I threw away the headphone and sobbing for a few more minutes while my family members look at me weirdly (they don't watch it. good for them, good for them). I was never the same after that. I can't focus on any other fandom. I have been dead for 2 weeks, but also making a lot of theories and conclusions. I made a world building sheet for the show. It was fun. I'm not normal yet.
Anyway, thank you Neil Gaiman for making season 2! Now we desperately need season 3! I wish for the strike to go smootly and we all get what we need to get!
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esthermitchell-author · 6 months
Text
(4/5) The Starmaker's Daughter (FanFic based on Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett)
Part IV: Beneath The Stars
St. James's Park, London -- 1 Year Later
They'd settled into a life of relative peace -- or as much peace as a new baby could allow two beings who, between them, had relatively little experiencing raising a child could reasonably expect -- now that Heaven was a much-kinder place, thanks in no small part to Aziraphale's efforts, and Hell knew bloody better than to ever threaten him or his again.
Settled onto their bench in the park, Crowley kept a close -- though he tried his best to not appear to be doing so at all -- watch over the love of his life and their one-year-old daughter, where the pair stood near the pond, Aziraphale patiently handing Jemmy peas to throw to the ducks. Honestly, probably as many peas went in Jemmy as got dropped on the ground at their feet for the ducks, and he struggled to hold back laughter as he watched. She didn't have the manual skill to throw the peas, so she just opened her hand and kind of dropped them at the angel's feet, where the ducks -- buggers knew they were safe around the pair -- made themselves at home squabbling over the no doubt half-mashed vegetables. Didn't matter much. Jemmy was having the time of her life, squealing with happiness and bouncing in Aziraphale's grasp.
Crowley straightened slightly, a hiss going through him, as he sensed something nearby. A presence he hadn't sensed since he'd gone to Heaven to fight by Aziraphale's side.
"Don't even think about it," he hissed to the presence he felt behind him. "Or I will make what I did in Heaven look like a bloody party favor when I get done with Hell."
"I heard something about a child," the voice behind him was feminine, but utterly lacking in any kind of grace. "I didn't believe it. But, then, I thought it was a rumor when it started going 'round Hell you'd actually married that pathetic excuse for an angel, last year."
Crowley rose to his feet, pouring every ounce of menace he possessed into his glare as he stared down the demon -- dressed in a burgundy dress and hat as if she was on her way to afternoon tea -- standing a few feet behind the bench. "Don't think I won't utterly discorporate you where you stand, Shax."
"Oh, would you relax." Shax waved one hand dismissively. "I was just curious. There are whispers, you know. In Hell."
"Hell can keep its whispers to itself," Crowley ground out, placing himself very deliberately between Shax and line of sight to Aziraphale and Jemmy.
"They're saying--"
"I. Don't. Care." He enunciated each word separately. "Any of you fuckers come near Aziraphale or our daughter, and I will rip Hell down, piece by piece--"
"If I don't flood it with holy water, first." Aziraphale's voice, from behind him, was icy with contempt. "What are you doing here, Shax?"
"Angel, leave this to me. Take--"
"No." Crowley heard the hard thread of angelic power in Aziraphale's voice and turned just in time to scoop his arms protectively around Jemmy as the angel held their daughter out to him. "Take her for a walk. I'll deal with this."
Crowley watched Shax's eyebrow lift in mockery, then fall as a wariness crept over her face in response to something she must see in Aziraphale's face he never had.
"C'mon, poppet," he murmured to Jemmy, cuddling her close to himself as he felt the beginning stir of her frightened whimper. "Let's go find you a nice lolly, huh?"
He deliberately didn't turn back to check on Aziraphale or let himself listen to what was said. If he'd learned anything from his angel's rise to Supreme Archangel, it was that Aziraphale could take care of himself, when he wanted to. Right now, Crowley was going to focus on cheering up his upset little girl. He trusted his angel to tell him if there was anything they needed to worry about, later.
******
Rooftop, A.Z. Fell and Co Bookshop, Soho, London -- Later that Night
Night had fallen some time ago, and Aziraphale released a quiet breath of contentment. They were out on the roof of the bookshop, a blanket spread on the roof and Crowley sprawled out beside him, staring up at the stars. Jem was settled in Aziraphale's lap, her head tipped way back to look up at the stars, too, while Crowley raised one arm to point off toward a corner of the night sky.  "It's out that way, Jemmy. A big, pink-and-blue cloud of cosmic dust and gas, and it made all those stars, right there."
Jem just stared and clapped, laughing when Crowley dropped his arm and long fingers dug lightly into her side, tickling her. "Ah, you don't understand yet, poppet. You just see pretty lights. But someday..."
Aziraphale's throat tightened at the wistful tone in Crowley's voice. It hurt his heart, constantly, to know he couldn't give Crowley back the stars. Not like he really deserved. The only way to do that would be to make Crowley an angel, again, and they both knew it wouldn't be right. It wasn't what Crowley wanted and, if he was honest with himself, it wasn't what Aziraphale wanted (for) him. Crowley was -- every beautiful, hellfire inch of him -- a demon. Years ago, Crowley thought Aziraphale wanted to change that. He'd misunderstood. Changing Crowley would have always been wrong.
He'd just wanted to give him back the stars. He'd wanted to show Heaven -- to show God -- they'd misjudged Crowley.
Turned out, the Almighty had done nothing of the sort. She'd always made Crowley to become what he was. A Starmaker with curiosity as vast as the cosmos he helped create. A demon who could love. Love the stars, love humanity, love a ridiculous angel who hadn't been able to see the truth staring him in the face. A demon who could love this little girl of theirs with the ferocity to threaten all of Hell to keep her safe.
"Shax won't give us any more problems," he murmured to Crowley now, glancing toward his demon. "I don't believe anyone else in Hell will, either."
Crowley snorted, then rolled to his side to face him. "What did you say to her, anyway?"
Aziraphale's brows raised in surprise, even as he released his hold on Jem so she could crawl to Crowley. "You didn't listen?"
"Nope." The demon smiled down at their daughter as she snuggled herself in against him, her head on his bicep as her inquisitive gaze tracked back and forth between them.
"Oh. I told her to spread the word in Hell that if any of them tried to bother us or Jem again, they'd be drinking exclusively holy water from now on, and then I gave her a little vision of what that might look like."
Crowley fell back to the blanket, laughing freely. "Bet that'll do it."
"Serves her right," Aziraphale muttered, unapologetic. He was still sore at the demoness for both interrupting his party a few years ago, and for what she hinted at when she accosted him in the Bentley. "Fancy saying I wasn't your type."
Crowley froze, his mirth dying away, before he lifted his head to stare at Aziraphale. "She wot, now?"
Aziraphale flushed. He hadn't meant to tell Crowley about that. Waving his hand, he hurried, "It was nothing."
"Angel." Crowley shifted, scooping up their now sleepy daughter and depositing her in Aziraphale's lap, looming over the angel. "What are you talking about? What did that bi--" he glanced down at Jem, then modified, "what did she say?"
"Oh, it was a long time ago."
"Aziraphale. It was this afternoon."
Aziraphale avoided Crowley's gaze, choosing to focus on their daughter, instead, as he shook his head. "This was before."
"Just how long have you known Shax?"
Aziraphale's gaze came up with a start. Was that a thread of jealousy he heard in Crowley's tone? Oh, yes. The hellfire was definitely rising in the demon's goldenrod eyes. "Oh! No, not like that. It was... let me think... well, back when I took the Bentley to Edinburgh, that time. She kind of... invited herself in, I suppose. Pretended to be a hitchhiker. On my way home."
A crackle of lightning went through Crowley's eyes. He looked furious. "The trip home you told me was 'uneventful.' Nothing at all amiss. That trip?"
"Crowley, you were... Well, you weren't doing well at the time, and I was afraid it might stress you out too much, to know what happened. Besides, nothing really did happen. She just--"
"Told you that you weren't my type. Like I ever had any other." The words hissed from Crowley, and before Aziraphale could correct him on how it happened, the demon's mouth was on his, as if he meant to prove just how wrong Shax was with that one kiss.
Aziraphale whimpered slightly, hating that he had to break their kiss, but conscious of the child in his lap. He pressed a hand to Crowley's chest, easing space between them, and breathed, "Jem..."
Crowley sat back, looking pole-axed and more morose than Aziraphale had seen him in a couple of years, now. "Tell me what Shax said wasn't the reason you left me."
"What?" Shock plunged through the angel. That his demon ever thought the word of another demon could dissuade him... "Of course not. And I told you -- I didn't leave you. Not like you've always implied. I didn't expect us to be apart for so long."
"I know." The pain in Crowley's murmured words twisted inside Aziraphale's chest, where their hearts always felt one another. The demon pushed himself up from the blanket, and looked down at Aziraphale for a long, silent moment, before rasping, "I love you, angel. I just need a moment."
"Of course, love," he murmured back, then watched Crowley move away across the rooftop a short distance, his head tipping up toward the stars as he clearly battled with all his not-quite-dead trauma.
"Lee-lee?" The whimper of Jemima's tiny voice drew Aziraphale's attention from his struggling love to the child in his lap, and he saw the tremble of tears in her green, starlight eyes as she looked from where Crowley had gone back to Aziraphale, those eyes begging him to fix what was clearly broken in her small world.
"Shh, it's okay, precious," he murmured, dropping a comforting kiss on her forehead. "Sometimes, big people have thoughts too big for them to feel around other people. Lee-lee will be okay."
I hope.
"Tersss?" Jem was already rolling her esses out in a little hiss that was, quite honestly, utterly adorable. He followed her look, up toward the stars winking above them, and smiled softly to himself.
"Yes, my sweet, the stars. They're all up there. And you know what?" He brushed a kiss to the side of her head, and whispered against her tiny ear, "Lee-lee made them all."
He watched her eyes go -- as the humans called it -- round as tea saucers, before she settled herself back against his chest, her fingers poking toward the stars as she began singing a little, tuneless song to herself Crowley must have taught her, about the stars, inserting a happy little "Lee-lee" every so often.
With another glance toward where Crowley stood, now clearly listening to their daughter's singing and the tension melted away from his lanky form, Aziraphale let his next whispered words carry on the barest breeze to his demon. "I love you, Anthony Crowley. To the stars and back."
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certifiedwerewolf · 4 months
Text
I'm not going to fix Chuck because I honestly have enough on my plate with the characters I'm already fixing, but I do think it's so unfair to the character the way the story playing for so long completely decayed him into what it did. Because Chuck in season five implied that him being hands off was about free will. That he set things into motion the way he did to give the humans a fighting chance, and maybe even to stop events that had already been put into motion that he himself couldn't stop without potentially making them worse. That was the impression I got. Not a great God, but one who was at least on humanity's side.
But then the show just kept going. And so in season 11 they brought him back again and they let him reconcile with Lucifer and they let the ending be hopeful and they made it all about sibling love, and season 11 SHOULD have been the end. Can you imagine it? Most of the storylines were resolved, the main players were all united under one banner, and while they would probably have logically gone their separate ways, maybe they wouldn't have. Maybe the fandom could have imagined an ending where Sam, Dean, and Cas were together, where Crowley was more of an ally than an enemy, maybe where Crowley and Rowena could reconcile, and where Heaven and Hell could maybe be less of a problem than they've been.
And it was a good way to end God's place in the series.
But they still KEPT GOING. And in the end the show disappeared up its own backside and instead of being a pathetic and thoughtless but ultimately okay God, he had to become what he did. And that was the only way the series could end! Because it had gone on for so long and was so wrapped up in its own meta that God turning on them and having to be taken down was the only ending, both in terms of what the story had become AND in terms of the fact that at that point, after taking out God's sister, what is there that's left?
And it just feels... unfair. I actually really like Chuck; even after the everything, I thought he was a lot of fun. A solid two thirds of the villains in Supernatural were not only annoying but they made me feel bad about myself, and Chuck was fun. Rob Benedict really did bring just the right level of moisture to him to make him work as a character. And I just... as much fun as I did genuinely have with the final season (I know, it took me so long to get through that you probably thought I hated it, but I didn't!), I wish they could have left it at season 11. I'd give up ever knowing Jack my friend Jack if it meant letting the series end at a point that would have actually worked for it.
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forgwater · 2 years
Text
There is evil, and then there is cursed emoji pillow
In the Beginning
part 1 - Crowley
part 2
Warning: cursed emoji pillow crackfic, the cursed emoji pillow is posted at the end of the fic
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Crowley was pacing around his office. Circling his desk like a goldfish in a too small of a bowl would circle a plastic castle decoration. Perhaps the crow Headmage was not receiving enough enrichment.
"WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO TO MAKE THESE BASTARDS COOPERATE?!" he kept walking. A hamster on a wheel would be jealous at his dedication.
"I WANT TO WIN!" he came to a halt, screeching up at the ceiling above. "Is that to much to ask for?!" he brings his arms in front of him looking down as he pleaded.
As the Headmage was too preoccupied to notice, a figure steps out of the shadows, having seen the pathetic display the man put in front of them, they decided to intervene.
"I may be able to help with that." the figure says. The only distinguishable features of the stranger were a cheap, flimsy, plastic frog mask and a mushroom hat.
"BY THE SEVEN!" Crowley clutches his heart. Poor creature must be in shock.
The figure takes a step forward, their arms in front of them as if they're trying to calm down a scared animal. They keep making shushing noises and softly saying 'It's okay...' as they approach.
"STAY BACK!" the Headmage shouts "OR- Wait! Did you say you can help?" the man calms down.
"Uhh, yeah." The person in a frog mask answers.
"Oh, good! EXELLENT!" Crowley smiles "Now, what is your idea?" he asks expectantly.
"Well..." the stranger begins "I've got this pillow here-"
"BY THE SEVEN- PUT IT BACK!" the crow man recoils at the atrocity.
"But I thought you wanted help?" the figure asks, disappointed.
"YES! NO! I mean-... maybe???" the man tries.
"So I can help!?" the masked stranger asks in excitement.
"... Maybe. BUT! You'll be responsible of any psychological distress caused!" Crowley warns.
"Okay... but, I'm not the owner of the pillow and I don't control it." the figure reluctantly says. "The pillow is it's own entity and it does whatever it wants. I'm just its humble servant." they explain "And right now it seems it wants to meet the students. I'll see you later, Headmage." and with that the figure dissipates into the shadows.
"Please don't." it's all Crowley can say.
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the cursed emoji pillow for anyone unaware (if you want to join the not cult cult aka the discord server, check my pinned post)
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(if you want to be tagged, you need only ask, also please specify what characters you are interested in reading about or if you want to be tagged in all works)
taglist: @bunnwich @sammo-writes-whatever @theonemarvelousness @kalu-luwa
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miraevanlynch · 8 months
Text
GUYS !
I've been angry since yesterday on Tumblr, Tiktok and Twitter, it's just too much. I think Aziraphale's choice is reasonable, even though it hurts, but based on what they say angels don't love Crowley, then their relationship is toxic, and then make up all kinds of theories bla bla bla in order to save themselves from their grievances and denying their reality. They do it like the way heaven deceive themselves into thinking they're good people, I just find it selfish, childish and shows that they are helpless with themselves, like they have no place to vent their emotions so they turn into blame people, even some people say very bad words, insulting the character and even Mr.Neil. They clearly don't love this series, this angel, they only see it as a place to vent their unstable emotions, until the ending makes them unhappy, then they turn their faces and curse, toss Aziraphale's figure, bla bla bla. It's like how heaven causes angels to fall when they can't satisfy with what they doing, they curse Aziraphale for choosing heaven, but themselves just behave like that heaven!
As for the Coffee Theory, I personally don't like it very much, I feel like it reduces the value of the choice Aziraphale made (Choose heaven to protect the world, protect Crowley even at the cost of sacrifice his life in Earth, that Crowley might not be with him anymore, but the angel still chooses to keep what he loves most alive, acting like a truly saint he is, I find it perfectly fitting character), making it less sublime. Maybe Aziraphale's choice is wrong, but its starting point comes from the great love inside angel, that he is willing to sacrifice his personal happiness, willing to endure hurt, loss and bear All the misunderstandings to protect this world, this humanity, and Crowley the one he loved most. Even at the high cost, it was enough to show that Aziraphale was an admirable, deserve praising, and appreciating character. He lived like a saint in the true sense of the word, not like those selfish people who only think about their own interests. At this point, if anyone still hates Aziraphale, I can't help but say one sentence: "The one who suffers the most is Crowley, but he still waiting and respects Aziraphale's decisions even though it hurts, That act is enough for you to follow the example and learn for all your lifetime, you pathetic rude 😏!"
All please! How much bitterness I put into this post! 😤
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Text
Of Nightingales and Night Ravens: Chapter 1 - A Rumor in Night Raven College
What do you get when you cross Disney Princess Yuu with Beast Tamer Yuu, Accidental God Yuu, Magic User Yuu, NRC Cult, English is a Dead Language, English is the Language of Magic, and Disney Songs are Lost Songs?
You get Yuura Miyajima, the Nightingale of Night Raven College.
(Inspired by @pookacangetit​’s Disney Song AU)
Chapter: I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII
Read on AO3
Summary: Have you heard? There's a rumor in Night Raven College. (or, the Prologue)
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Something is off about the Prefect.
Actually, if one were to ask the average Night Raven College student—
…as average as one can be when attending the simultaneously infamous & prestigious school "for budding villains"...
—how they would describe the Prefect of Ramshackle Dorm, many would answer—with the vaguest sense of thoughtful deliberation—odd.
(Though among the members of the Watch, whose numbers continue to grow each day, the more derisive descriptors have fallen out of favor, if only to avoid the displeasure of either the Prefect themself or their frightfully protective Inner Circle.
(It should be noted, however, that the first and only person to ever call the Prefect 'off' to their face—"There’s something off about you, you know that?"—was one of the Prefect’s self-proclaimed best friends, who proceeded to get smacked over the head by the Prefect’s other self-proclaimed best friend—"Ace, what the hell? Shut up!"—while the Prefect themself sat there in confusion, pondering over their friend’s words—"Off? Do you mean like when someone describes spoiled milk as off? Or moldy cheese? Rancid meat? Deuce, is my personality rotten?")
D reassured me that my personality is not rotten, it's just A being his rotten self. While I can concede that A can be disagreeable at times, I wouldn't go so far as to call him "extremely unpleasant", or "awful", or w/ever else "rotten" could mean. He's ACE.
Regardless of the specific adjective, calling the Ramshackle Prefect off wouldn't be inaccurate. Neither would odd, unconventional, unusual, eccentric, and so on, and so forth. Perhaps not insane, but the Prefect once had been caught trying to climb the flying buttress connecting the lower ground of Ramshackle’s land to the higher plateau where the main school building sits.
(They made it over the wall into the courtyard in front of the infirmary, an astonishing feat witnessed by a handful of infirmed students, their visitors, and—unfortunately—Nurse Maddox and Professor Andela. The latter then escorted the Prefect to the Headmaster’s office, where Crowley proceeded to lecture them about the dangers of scaling old castle walls and the like, all very dramatic and histrionic as usual. The very next day, several startled students bore witness to the Prefect speeding down Main Street wearing a pair of vintage metal skates, their cat-weasel-monster partner perched precariously atop their shoulders as the Prefect laughed with half-mad, absolutely joyful glee.)
After that enlightening conversation w/ the HM, I was afforded permission to visit Mr. S's shop & purchased a convenient pair of skates—metal strap-on ones like the kind I had Before. If all goes well, I'll be able to cut down the travel time between Ramshackle & the main building w/out resorting to "alternative routes".
& w/out Grim falling off my shoulders en route.
In regards to the Prefect's perceived oddity and the factors contributing to the existence of this perception—
For one, their unconventional introduction to the entire school during the Entrance Ceremony, complete with blue hellfire (courtesy of one weasel-monster-cat), a deluge of rainwater (courtesy of one Asim heir), and a good-ole decapitation/collaring (courtesy of one Heartslabyul Housewarden). How disruptive! How irresponsible, not being able to control their own familiar. How pathetic, to have magic so weak, they might as well not have magic at all.
(How odd, that the Dark Mirror was unable to read their soul, as if something was obscuring its vision. That their magic wasn’t weak due to inherent deficiency from birth so much as from suppression. It’s made all the more intriguing when a few remember the weirdly troubled, unsettled look in the Prefect’s dark eyes.)
Then there’s just the way they speak. As a freshman appearing on the younger side of eighteen, hearing this short, delicate-looking kid speak with such textbook perfect formality is always jarring (they swear, several students will say, if not watashi, they’ve heard the Prefect refer to themself as watakushi, and a few times, yatsugare, of all things, in front of the Professors and the Headmage).
(It’s strange. They sound almost like an old person, whenever the Prefect speaks. Too formal, too respectful, strangely… dated. And it’s not like Common is everyone’s first language—often, it’s not even the second—but the way the Prefect speaks it, it’s like they’ve been familiar with an older form of the language for a long time. Not to mention those moments when the Prefect could be heard muttering to themself in something ancient-sounding and nearly unrecognizable.)
Probably most damning of all—the fact that the Prefect is disgustingly, frustratingly, stupidly, undeniably kind. Not just nice or polite; anyone can play being nice or polite towards people they hate, and even then, the average Night Raven College student fails at even acting polite, let alone being nice towards their classmates. Night Raven College is not a kind environment, which makes the Prefect’s presence so unusual.
Who almost gets roasted alive by an ornery cat-monster, and decides to take them in and shelter them from the rain? Who gets insulted and nearly expelled by two Heartslabyul dunces, and doesn’t hesitate to invite them into their rundown dorm to protect the two from their own Housewarden? Who—if rumors are to be believed—encounters at least four Overblots and survives them, only to end up with actual friends and allies across all seven dorms?
It's stupid. It’s crazy. It’s insane. It… almost makes sense, when you consider the other rumors.
----
Ask any member of Scarabia—it started when the Ramshackle students escaped a locked room on the Housewarden’s magic carpet, the assigned guards frozen in place once the Prefect opened their mouth and started to sing, the cold sands reacting to the outrage in their voice.
We can’t stay here any longer. K needs help, I can’t abandon him, but they can’t lock me up again, they can’t.
Ask any member of Octavinelle—it started when even the Vice Housewarden was taken by surprise; when, while wiping down tables, the Prefect began to croon the words of an old Coral Sea lullaby; so old, only the melody remains in present memory.
Sen. Blue & Leech the Elder gave me strange looks when I ended my shift today. Wish I knew what that was about. Must focus on finals, though. Poor Grimsby looks close to tears trying to study for Crewel's.
Ask any member of Savanaclaw—it started when the Prefect, indignant over the treatment of their friends by the brutish and boorish students, snarled out the words of a lost song of the Afterglow Savana so fiercely, all the torches in the dormitory were blown out.
Sen. L & RB are going to make a full recovery, thank god. HW-R & Sen. T say to focus on my own health, but it’s hard to ignore the sorry display L & RB make when their beds are right across from mine. Esp. w/ L’s OB.
Ask any member of Heartslabyul—it started when the Housewarden invited the Prefect for another tea party with his hand of Cards (Trappola, Spade, Clover, and Diamond, of course), and a number of Card Soldiers stumbled upon the Prefect in a rather isolated part of the maze, humming a tune heavily restricted to the Queendom’s royal family and the Royal Botanic Society, discerning the sentient flowers from the non-sentient.
It was very kind of RR to let me pick some flowers again for pressing. I think he liked the tea rose bookmark I made him from the last batch. He turned so red when C took a photo of him, it was sweet.
Ask the Vice Housewarden of Heartslabyul, or the Magicam-addicted junior—it started after Rosehearts—again, if rumors are to be believed—Overblotted, and passed out, bleeding heavily, on the verge of death, and the Magicless Prefect saved him in a unbelievable display of warm, golden light and desperate song.
Ask the Prefect’s self-proclaimed best friends—it started when they delved into the abandoned Dwarf Mine on an impossible task to find a magestone, and the Prefect looked upon the decrepit cottage and Overblotted monster with such shock and sorrow, Deuce Spade had to wonder if they’d been here before. It started when Ace Trappola chanced upon the Magicless student who interrupted the Entrance Ceremony, sweeping in front of the statues on Main Street and singing indiscernible words as if casting a spell, squirrels and songbirds gathering at their feet.
If you have the courage, ask the Headmage himself.
It started when he followed the terrified screams of a missing student, subdued a volatile weasel-creature, and found the collapsed child staring back at him with confused, startling hazel-brown eyes—babbling in a language that disappeared when Lysaya Gora went silent along with its Black God.
Sunday, September 6
Where do I begin?
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brianwashere · 1 year
Text
Hi so basically this was a short story I wrote for class right so that’s why it sounds like it is. If you guys want the expanded version just tell me. Sorry that the paragraphs are chunkier ://
I’m really playin with fire here, they got tumblr, man
Uhhhh I just thought some people would like ghoul boys content. It’s also told from Shane’s pov
Also read this as a crack fic bcc it def turned into one
⚠️THIS IS A PLATONIC RELATIONSHIP IT WILL NOT BE READ WITH ANY ROMANCE BCC SHIPPING REAL PEOPLE IS DISGUSTING IF I SEE ANY OF THEM SHIPPERS INTERACTING I WILL BE BLOCKING. IF SHANE OR RYAN SAY THEY ARE UNCOMFY WITH ANY FANFICTION OF THEM I WILL TAKE THIS DOWN⚠️
**i do not own any of the watcher or buzzfeed unsolved rights or anything like that**
Characters involved: Shane, Ryan, Crowley
Genre: short story(?) there’s a happy ending dw
Summary: Ryan discovers Shane is a demon then they like…go to court and stuff
Tw: mention of death, courtroom thing, Shane goes through some stuff, small fight scene
A Demon’s Tale
Look, I don't care what you believe in, but as far as I’m concerned that Dante fellow got it pretty accurate. It all started with me going undercover as a human in 100 B.C.--to tempt humanity and do other demon-y things. 
 For twenty years I worked diligently being a good–well, nasty–little demon. Then I got bored and traveled the world, easy when you can just teleport. Met that Jesus guy, a nice dude, and a good message he had going.
Fast forward 2000 years and there I was working as a ghost hunter with my best friend at Watcher. Our technical titles are “Paranormal Investigators”, but I digress. We basically just go to “haunted” locations and try to find evidence of the supernatural.  
 So that’s how I ended up standing in a “haunted” field in Ohio, halfway through Fall. Ryan, he’s my best friend, was talking to the camera explaining why this field was haunted. 
 “Think we’ll see a demon here?” I teased him. 
 “Shane, as much as I’d love to see you proven wrong, I really hope not.” Ryan nervously joked back. 
 I was the shows skeptic, wholeheartedly denying that the supernatural was real. Ryan, however, believed all that bologna. We kept walking further into the field until I noticed an off feeling in my throat, like trying to swallow a spoonful of honey. 
 My eyes scanned the brush line. Despite it being pitch black my demon eyes could see perfectly. That’s when I spotted it, there were two glowing red eyes staring at us from across the field. That wasn’t good. Apparently, some hobgoblin (a low-level demon) owned this field and did not take kindly to trespassers. 
 I glanced at Ryan, who was none the wiser. The hobgoblin would probably want him more than me; it was already eyeing him specifically. I needed to divert its attention toward me. Shaking my head, I sighed. 
 “Hey, you pathetic hobgoblin! If you want me off your field, you’re gonna have to kill me!” With confidence, I yelled in its direction. 
 “Shane! What are you doing? Stop!” Ryan whisper yelled. 
 Its beady red eyes snapped at me and with a snarl, it launched itself at me. I stumbled back in surprise but caught it by the shoulders and threw it backward. 
 "̶̱̼̥̯͍̫̑͊̈́̓̑̍̆͌̄͜͝Ḏ̷͖̈̀̎ĩ̷̤̞̱̲̣̖̻̬͓̺̇̍̈́̑̆͑̚̕͜s̷̢͓͎͇̱̰̎̀̍̅͆͒͗́̊͆͝͝c̵͉̟͛͑̾͒̒̉̑̾̌̿͜e̷̯̬̻̲͉̣̓̿́̽̕͠ḑ̸̢͉͕͎͓͈̱͔̮̪͂͊͂͊̍̿̑̊͗̀ę̵̫̝̯̝̞̼̮͖̮́́̆̎̈́̍͂̾͌̽̓͝!̶̘͔̰̫̣̓̓̏̔̾͑͠"̸̪̲͚͙̖͚̞̝̤̖̜̙̀͂͒̈́̇̑͌͌̕͘͝͠   It screeched at me. 
 Now, it's been a while since I've had to speak Beelzebabble, but you don’t always need to speak someone’s language to understand what they’re saying.
In this hobgoblin’s case, it was saying something along the lines of ‘Leave!’ but hey, that’s just speculation. I flashed my teeth, which had grown sharp; albeit an... outdated display of dominance but it seemed like an old-fashioned guy. 
 The hobgoblin seemed to understand that it would lose against me no matter what. He scampered off. I turned back to Ryan who looked like he’d just seen a ghost (funny because it was a demon). The silence was deafening, I awkwardly put my hands in my pockets and rocked back and forth on my feet, clearing my throat. 
 “So... crazy wind, right?” It was a pathetic attempt to brush off any ideas of the paranormal. 
 Ryan was a deer caught in headlights. His eyes blown wide and his mouth gaping. 
 “Shane--are... are you a demon?” He managed to stutter out. 
 I pursed my lips. He was never supposed to know. No one was ever supposed to know.
Breaking my cover to a human was one thing, but genuinely befriending one was unheard of. If Downstairs ever found out about this, they’d demote me back to Imp. No more sunshine and bright Earth to live on, just blood-red skies and 10 layers of pure agony. If that little hobgoblin snitched, I could be in deep. 
 “Hehe... surprise...?” I nervously laughed. 
 Emotions were one of those things I still can’t figure out, like the appeal of acupuncture or spicy food. I nervously wrung my hands as shock, distrust, and worst of all, fear washed over Ryan’s face. The shorter man took an uncertain step back. 
 “Who are you?” His voice was filled with fear but masked by hate. 
 “Ryan, hey it's still me, still your good ol’ pal, Shane Madej. Nothing’s changed.” I took half a step towards him.  
 It felt like I was trying to corral a stray dog.  
 “Stay back!” His voice wavered. 
 I glanced around nervously; at any moment a hoard of demons could appear to drag me back Downstairs and kill Ryan. 
 “Ryan, look, we can talk about this later but right now we need to go. Now. Before they come back with more.” I kept my voice as calm as I could. 
 Ryan also glanced around, picking up on my anxiety. 
 “Who?” He questioned when I didn’t elaborate. 
 “No one you wanna meet. Come on!” I insisted and began walking back to the car. 
 “No..." Ryan mumbled. 
 “No?” I mimicked, looking back at him. 
 “No!” He repeated, stamping his foot once. “No more secrets! Especially not ones that pertain to our job!” 
 “Ryan! Now is not the time!” I hissed. 
 “Shane--” He was cut off by a loud rumbling and shaking of the ground, suddenly chains wrapped around Ryan.  
 Two demons appeared clutching his arms, and they were gone as soon as they arrived. I whipped my head around in time to see another larger demon grab me and teleport me to Downstairs’ Courtroom. Literally. There was already a jury of demons there waiting.  
 “Your Dishonor, the defendant one, Shane Madej,” The ‘lawyer’ paused as the courtroom around me giggled or snorted, except for Ryan who couldn’t find the amusement in my name. “Was clearly violating several of the ‘Inferior Ideologies’ he pledged in 0 B.C.” 
 I kept my eyes on my claws as my leg bounced. The turkey-necked Judge raised a brow and turned to me. 
 “Shane Madej, how do you plead?” He asked.  
 It was more a formality than anything else; if you go to court in Hell then you’re doomed from the start. We got the whole ‘guilty until proven innocent’ thing going, and the defendant isn’t allowed a lawyer. Try that for unconstitutional.  
 “Uh, Guilty?” I responded meekly, raising my eyebrows and shrugging my shoulders. 
 “Well, I say that about seals it. Shane Madej, you will be burned in the bath of holy water and--” The judge was cut off by the doors to the courtroom slamming open and an out-of-breath-looking demon speed-walking to the center of the courtroom. 
 My head snapped up to look at who interrupted my trial. 
 “Your Dishonor, if I may,” His British voice rang out. “My client, Mr. Madej, was simply doing his job. As a hellion and instigator of evil-doing, breaking or ignoring rules and laws is his duty.”
He had round dark shades that covered his eyes with flame-red hair spiked forward and he smelled like old leather.  
 I raised an eyebrow.
Who was this guy?
The Judge’s eyes darkened. 
 “Crowley.” He spat scornfully. “You seriously expect us to drop all charges on this man because you think he was ‘doing his job’.”  
 Wow, this guy was the real deal if the Judge had heard of him. 
 “No, Sir. He may not get away without punishment, but I propose a punishment rarely used, discarded by time. So old and ridiculous that even you have forgotten it.” The red-haired demon tempted.  
 The Jury was on the edge of their seats. This Crowley guy really knew how to entertain. 
Z “I propose that Shane Madej and his friend, Ryan Bergara, be set free in exchange for Shane’s demon curse.” The Jury gasped and some lady in the front fainted. 
 “He can do that?” Ryan exclaimed. 
 The Judge’s eyes twinkled, and a sly grin spread across his face. 
 “It is acceptable…if Mr. Madej agrees, that is.” He challenged. 
 Everyone in the courtroom turned to me expectantly. My throat suddenly went dry; I gulped.  
 This can’t seriously be allowed, right? There’s no way. 
 Crowley gave me a pleading look. My eyes scanned the courtroom. Ryan stared at me, still chained to the chair. I furrowed my brow. 
 “I-...I accept.” I exhaled deeply.  
 “Then that does it! Shane Madej by the power vested in me by the Devil himself, I strip you of your demon curse and revoke all contact with the Devil and all of his underlings” The Judge exclaimed, sounding too enthusiastic for the punishment he condemned me to. 
 Suddenly my vision blurred. The world around me started spinning and I felt nauseous for the first time in my life. I stumbled out of the stand, collapsing to my hands and knees.  
 “Shane!” I distantly heard Ryan yell. 
 The room dimmed as I heard ‘ooohs’ and laughter. I gasped for air, something I'd never had to do before. The air was hot and jagged like burning serrated metal slicing my lungs.
I think I screamed but frankly, I can’t remember all that much from those seconds? Minutes? Hours? It all swirls together like a whirlpool of incoherent words and images. 
 I looked around the room, it was so dark I wondered if my eyes were closed. As they adjusted to the lack of light, I spotted Ryan. He looked ready to scream at any moment. I stood up, steadying myself on the stand. The Jury looked horrified. Crowley looked regretful. I rubbed my head and cleared my throat. 
 “Ready to go, Ryan?” I flashed a half-hearted smile. 
 He looked concerned but nodded all the same. Somehow in the process of me turning human he had been unchained. We turned to look at Crowley. 
 “Gentlemen, allow me to escort you out.” He announced. 
 Hurriedly, he placed a hand on Ryan and I’s shoulders and immediately we were by the van we drove here in. The morning sun was just beginning to rise over the tree line. I stumbled a bit, adjusting to my newfound humanity while Ryan looked queasy and held his stomach.  
 “Never...again.” He wheezed out. 
 “Crowley, how can I ever repay you?” I asked sincerely. 
 “Stay out of paranormal business the lot of ya’.” He answered quickly. 
 “Well, Ryan. Looks like we need to find ourselves a new job.” I said teasingly.  
 He just groaned and made his way to the passenger seat of the car. 
 “Seriously, man. I can’t thank you enough for getting me out of that pickle. Even if I'm less...me now.” I sighed. 
 “Shane, being a demon isn’t what makes you you. My best friend told me that, you’d be wise to listen to the advice.” Crowley responded. 
 I just nodded.  
 “Well, by now Crowley. See you later.” I waved as I got into the driver's seat of the van. 
 “If all goes well, hopefully, you won’t!” He called. 
 I grinned at his witty comment and turned the key, starting the ignition. Ryan was already asleep and snoring lightly. The dirt path shook the car; rocks and sticks let out various noises of complaint as the tires rolled over them. 
I pondered a while about the day’s events. Maybe being human was worse than being a demon, they do so many cruel things after all. I let out an amused huff as a thought crossed my mind. 
To think a Man's enemies are demons, but not human beings like himself is foolish.
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hey-its-cweepy · 1 year
Text
Lesson 1;3: Getting To Know Each Other
Basics here!
Part 1! Part 2!
Also please let me know if you would like to be tagged when more parts come out✨🕺
The group of developers sat in their office, working on creating designs, writing scripts and recording the voices needed to bring their project to life. It was just supposed to be a simple dating game with a little twist in the story.
"We've never done anything like this before... Such a risky project... What if it gains sentience? What if this little plan of yours backfires on us?"
"Then we'll just delete the program, simple as that, no one will ever know what happened... Now then, let's add some "special touches" that'll really make this project stand out"
---------------------------------------
With Crowley having given the students their official schedules and privately dealing with the gas leak situation, its time for Roan to start their first class in Night Raven Collage! Roan is mildly annoyed at having to repeat their school days, but its better than being homeless.
Roan sat in his chair, listening to the professor explain his lecture while looking around at the other students. Some were familiar as ones that were whispering and talking about him and the fellow magicless students. He mainly recognized Dell, who sat not too far away, attentively listening to the professor's rambling.
"Now then, for your first assignment you'll all be working in pairs, which I've already decided for you..." The professor says before listing off pairs of students.
A certain blue haired student seemed very anxious as the professor listed off pairs of students.
"Oh no... Why did we have to work in pairs..." She whispered to herself.
"Don't worry! I believe you can make it through!" Dell seemed to try to provide a sense of comfort to her.
"... Roan and Momo and for the last pair, Dallas and Dell... I better not see any of you start fighting or petty bickering, understood?" The professor inquired.
Dell seemed excited, "Absolutely!" They cheered, a gleam of joy on their face.
The blond kid that appeared to be Dell's partner on the other hand, seemed to be annoyed, murmuring something to himself before quickly putting on a smile "Understood, professor!"
The blue haired girl still seemed anxious, nervously shrinking in her seat. "... M-Mhm..."
"Good... I dont want to hear any quarreling or fighting between any of you..." The professor explained.
The students start meeting up in their respective pairs, with the blue haired student shyly approaching Roan.
"U-Um... I-I'm... I'm Momo... Momo Kira..." He looks down and nervously fidgets with their fingers. "S-So... Im g-guessing you must be R-Roan... Right?..."
"Yeah, that's me..." Roan confirmed "So since we're working together, let's get started."
"R-Right..." Momo nervously sat closer to Roan, anxiously holding on to the edges of her sleeves.
Dallas and Dell however...
"Great, of all the stupid kids in this room, I get stuck with you." Dallas hissed out the last word.
"Worry not! My system is quite advanced and isnt as prone to glitching or crashes! So I can-" Dell gets cut off by Dallas.
"Not that you idiot, I mean that you aren't even a real student! I'd rather be stuck with that pathetic mess over there that's practically crying at the magicless kid!... Actually, I take that back, I'd rather be in a different school..." Dallas mumbled something to himself that's too quiet for anyone to hear.
Dell's avatar once again seems a bit upset at the mention of it before quickly putting a smile back on. "Cheer up, Showstage! I can prove you that I'm just as effective as a... "Real student"..."
Dallas rolled his eyes. "Tch, sure you can..."
Nonetheless, the various pairs of students seem to be working just well with each other or at least for the most part. Once the bell rang and it was time for lunch, Dallas quickly rushed out, not wanting to have to deal with Dell for a second longer.
To him, Dell was probably the one of the most annoying students he's met so far...
"UGH! I just can't stand that stupid program! Can't it shut up for more than 5 minutes?! And why does it always seem so stupidly excited about everything?!" Dallas muttered frustratedly to himself as he leaned against the wall.
He groans and mumbles to himself before moving some stray out of his face, taking a breath as he's about to leave.
"Hold on! Don't leave yet!" A voice called out.
Dallas quickly spun around in surprise and alarm, trying to see who it is.
"Wh-Who's there?! What the hell do you want?!"
"Calm down, calm down... So you want this program to shut up already, right? I have just what you need" A hand extends out from the darkness, a single USB being handed out to Dallas.
"This old thing?... The hell am I supposed to do with this? It looks so... Old" Dallas complained.
The figure chuckled, their eyes slightly narrowing in an uplifting smile.
"Don't judge a book by its cover, they say... This little thing will make this "pest" stay quiet alright... So, will you take it? Or would you rather have to deal with their constant rambling?" The figure asked.
Dallas seemed to think for a bit.
"... Alright then, I'll take your offer" Dallas greedily took the USB from them "If it'll get that stupid "Dell" to shut up for once... Thank you!~" Dallas cheered the last part with a smile. "I'll be sure to give it back-"
The figure chuckles once more.
"That... Wont be necessary... Its yours now..."
"O-Oh... Well thank you for the gift then!" Dallas laughed a bit as he left "Finally, I wont have to hear that thing talk for a straight hour again..."
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sparkly-key · 5 months
Text
A missed rendezvous pt. 5
Furious over how Heaven treated Crowley, Aziraphale lashes out.
Written for Whumptober Day 19 - "I'll take one final step, all you have to do is make me." | Floral Bouquet | Psychological | "I'm not as stupid as you think I am." I love it when Aziraphale gets to be a BAMF.
Content warnings: gore, excessive violence, references to torture, character death.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
On AO3
HOURS EARLIER
Aziraphale did his best to still his trembling hands as he steered the Bentley into the miraculously available parking spot in front of his bookshop.
He’d already snuck inside earlier, discreetly collecting what he needed as he kept a cautious eye on the outside. His plan would be no good if he was caught too soon.
The Bentley’s radio flickered to life, the gauge lighting up.
“Keep yourself alive, come on
Keep yourself alive
Ooh, it'll take you all your time and money honey
You'll survive, shake”
It was bebop, but Aziraphale appreciated the sentiment. He patted its dashboard comfortingly. “I’ll bring him back, my dear.”
He squared his shoulders and slid out of the car.
“Aziraphale!” he shouted, bounding over to the bookshop door. He raised his hand to his brow to shield his eyes and pressed against the glass panes, peering to see inside the darkened shop. “Aziraphale, where are you?!”
He jiggled the doorknob. “C’mon, Aziraphale, let me in – Ngk“
Somebody slammed his head again the glass, their hand tight around the nape of his neck. The fractured pane cut his temple. He winced slightly as his head ache, playing up the pain for his captor.
“Knew you’d turn up, demon,” Sandalphon growled, pinning him against the door. “I even let Uriel handle your little boyfriend just so I’d be the one to collect you.”
“What didya do to Aziraphale?” Aziraphale hissed, struggling halfheartedly against the hold.
He tensed at the Archangel’s humorless laugh. “Only convinced him it’d be worth his time to stick around and chat.”
Aziraphale twisted in his hold, slamming into Sandalphon. The bald man stumbled back into the sidewalk, a sneer spreading across his face.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t make this easy,” he snapped as Aziraphale glared at him.
The seeming-demon scrambled for the Bentley, letting himself get within Sandalphon’s reach. He was expecting something, so the punch to the chin didn’t stun him as much as he made it look like, stumbling back against the bookshop. His jaw stung.
“Bloody right I won’t,” Aziraphale growled, charging at the Archangel.
He hoped it wouldn’t hurt Crowley’s ego too much when he learned how quickly the famous tempter lasted against Sandalphon, but the end was far too important to botch things up by getting accidentally smited by the Archangel’s heavy hand. It ended with Aziraphale limp in the corner of his bookshop’s stoop, feigning dazedness as the rope twisted around his wrists.
The hood was unnecessary, in his opinion.
NOW
Aziraphale grimaced at the pain from the wound in his side and Crowley’s panicked yell.
He slumped forward, carefully choreographing his position to hide his hands as he utilized Houdini’s lessons. (He may be a prisoner, but he would be damned if he revealed his tricks).
“You bloody bastard,” Crowley snarled across from him, struggling in his chains.
Aziraphale grit his teeth, forcing himself to stay silent when Sandalphon removed the sword.
It had been a shock to see him covered in bruises and blood, even if it was Aziraphale’s body covered with them. His heart had fractured, torn between rage at Heaven’s cruelty and sorrow that Crowley had had to endure this.
(This is what the side of goodness and light did. When Hell had left him physically unscarred.)
Sandalphon stepped over Aziraphale, the blade covered in blood at his side.
“I’ll fucking kill you,” Crowley hissed. “I swear to –“
SMACK
Aziraphale bit back a snarl of anger.
“You’re pathetic,” the bald man snarled. “It’s sickening, seeing you carrying about when a demon’s death should be celebrated. They’re the enemy, Aziraphale – have you become so corrupted that you can’t see the righteousness of our cause?”
How long had Sandalphon been out of battle if he thought killing a demon was that easy? (He’s dangerous from a distance, as evident from Sodom and Gomorrah, but up close? Had he fought since the Great War?)
“Gabriel, please tell me I don’t have to put up with this sniveling coward any more?” Sandalphon called.
Aziraphale undid the last of the knots, the rope coming undone in his hands. The sheathed dagger pressed against the inside of his wrist, ready to slide out with a practiced flick.
“I suppose we’ve done all we can,” Gabriel said with a sigh. “Just be careful when you dispose of the bodies – we don’t want angels to start asking questions.”
Carefully, Aziraphale rose to his feet, fighting against the wave of nausea and lightheadedness from the bleeding mess of his ear. He glanced to the side to see the Supreme Archangel carefully removing the brand he’d threatened Aziraphale-as-Crowley with from the flames, his grip careful on the handle made from holy wood.
He met Crowley’s gaze – he wished they were actually his, Aziraphale loved his golden eyes – over Sandalphon’s shoulder as the Archangel drew back his sword.
Heaven had structure, a hierarchy, and status had power. The dagger Aziraphale brought was angelic, imbued with God’s grace and capable of harm.
But the sword he wrested from Sandalphon’s grasp was made for an archangel, its power matching.
“How careless of you to lose your blade, Archangel,” the Guardian of the Eastern Gate drawled as Sandalphon spun. He squared his shoulders, the blade feeling familiar in his hand. (He had given his up, centuries ago, and rarely cared to wield another. But circumstances called for it. And he was a Principality, despite all the jokes.)
“Blasphemous,” Sandalphon snarled, raising his hand to smite Aziraphale. (Later Crowley would tell him it looked wrong, to see himself, but not himself, look so natural with a blade – but not as wrong as it would have looked for him to see Aziraphale with it. “You’re so soft,” he would murmur fondly.)
Aziraphale lunged, wavering a bit from the blood loss, but Sandalphon’s blade found purchase in his chest, impaling him.
The Archangel’s mouth fell open in shock as he stumbled forward, golden blood filling it.
Aziraphale’s gaze hardened. “Then She can call me so herself.”
He withdrew, shoving the bald angel’s lifeless body at the charging Gabriel.
The Supreme Archangel’s wings unfurled behind him, lifting Gabriel into the air in time to avoid Sandalphon. His saber appeared in his hands, his violet eyes shining. His gaze landed on Aziraphale, face bloodied but footing firm, and then flicked to Crowley, his face twisting in rage.
Bang!
The shot echoed through the cavernous space, followed by Gabriel’s noise of surprise. He glanced down at Aziraphale, a petite derringer barely visible in his hand. “How –“
Human bullets might not wound an angel in Heaven, but Aziraphale was sure the Supreme Archangel had never been shot before.
“That’s a warning, Gabriel,” Aziraphale said, tossing the gun aside. “Leave us alone – Leave Earth alone – and this all ends now.”
“You’re a fool – You too, Aziraphale – Do you honestly expect Heaven to just walk away from Armageddon? Abandon the Great Plan?” The brunet snarled, his face twisting in rage.
“Then I expect I’ll have to give them a reason not to,” the disguised angel warned coldly.
Gabriel dove for him.
Aziraphale raised his hand, uncertain if it would work, and spoke a word of command that called a column of lightning from the ceiling and struck Gabriel.
It felt … right … to call upon God’s power, a comfort that he feared would have abandoned him (What if the Great Plan was the Ineffable Plan and he’d mucked it up all along?).
The brunet fell to the floor, his burnt wings trailing behind him.
“That … was unnecessary,” he grunted, his eyes filled with fury and confusion. (Aziraphale kept forgetting. This was Crowley, doing these terrible things, in the angel’s mind.)
Aziraphale charged, the blade high. Metal rang as Sandalphon’s blade clashed with Gabriel’s. He grunted with the effort it took to hold off the Supreme Archangel, shoving his opponent back.
Gabriel opened his mouth, his hand raised, but the blade Aziraphale had kept hidden up his sleeve lodged in his throat.
He sputtered, his hands flying to cover the gushing wound.
Aziraphale drove Sandalphon’s sword through Gabriel’s gut, twisting mercilessly. The Supreme Archangel fell to his knees, violet eyes wide as the light within them faded.
Aziraphale stilled, his chest heaving, as he stood above Gabriel’s corpse and then his knees crumpled.
“Angel!” Crowley cried out behind him, chains rattling as he struggled.
“’M fine … my dear,” Aziraphale assured him, feeling exhausted. He forced himself to rise, easing the sword from free from his victim.
His eyes lifted to the pillar of Hellfire towering over them.
“We need to go,” he grunted, hurrying back to Crowley. With his fading grace, he forced the shackles around the demon’s wrists open.
Crowley sagged forward. Aziraphale quickly caught him but his injuries causing him to stumble slightly. Crowley grabbed his shoulders to steady himself, and pulled away as his hand touched Aziraphale’s bloodied skin.
“Aziraphale, oh –“ the demon groaned. “You – idiot. You shouldn’t have come!”
“Not right now, my dear,” Aziraphale told him dryly as adrenaline faded and the pain became more obvious. “We need to get out of here.”
He eased Crowley to the ground gently, shooting the demon a demanding look as he started to rise out of protest, and drew the chalk from his pocket. With shaky, hurried hands, he laid out the symbols around them, drips of blood adding unintentional power to the transportation sigil. As the final lines connected, Aziraphale sat in the center, pulled Crowley close, and activated it.
NEXT
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