#no beta we saunter vaguely downwards like crowley
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No One Will Hurt You Again
Relationship: Charles Xavier/Erik Lehnsherr
Warnings: implied smut, trauma, smoking, alcohol, antisemitism, language, canon typical violence
Summary: Charles finds a mutant wrecking havoc at Miami because he's thirsty for revenge. So, he adopts him. (X-Men: First Class retelling but with Maneskin lyrics)
Notes: part of Lu Creative Time Challenge, song of choice is Coraline by Maneskin. Regarding Loki and Two Kings And One Guard, I don't know when I will finish it and go back to writing Loki, but I will see what I can do.
read on AO3
After Erik's interrogation was done, the CIA agreed with Charles' wish to keep him on the mutant team with a ground total of 3 people. The director told them they'd stay in a motel for the night. Moira and the others still distrust Erik, so Charles offered to take a room with him, insisting that he can keep a close eye on him. He didn't lie, but he didn't clarify what eye he'd be keeping.
Italian: Coraline bella come il sole / Guerriera dal cuore zelante / Capelli come rose rosse / Preziosi quei fili di rame, amore, portali da me
English: Coraline beautiful like the sun / A warrior with a zealous heart / Hair like red roses / Those copper-like wires, love, give them to me
The cheap motel room (possibly to avoid suspicion) only has one king-sized bed and no couch or even armchair. Charles freezes, taking turns staring at the bed and at Erik.
“Should I ask if we can get another room? One with two beds?” he asks. He might know basically all about Erik, but that's not mutual, there's no guarantee he'll be comfortable sleeping with a stranger. Instead, Erik glares at him like the suggestion was the worst of insults.
“Why are you asking?” he growls, like he's expecting disgust but is still willing to fight it. Charles needs a second to decode why Erik would snap, and his eyes widen when he realizes.
“No, no, no issue with you. But, we don't know each other…” he trails off, trying to save something. Erik's stance relaxes slightly, the furious fire in his steel cold eyes toning down but not disappearing.
“One night won't kill us, and I trust you are not stupid enough to attempt anything,” he shrugs, kicking off his boots and claiming one side of the bed. Charles sits on the edge, focused on untying his shoes, peeling off his clothes until he's left with a shirt and pants, and hesitantly gets in the bed.
Of course, Erik just lies on his back, head turned away from Charles and to the door, his breathing slow and steady as he sleeps. Unaware that Charles can't take his eyes off him, his lean yet firm body, the soft curls of his auburn hair that the moonlight allows Charles to see.
Erik's not like Charles. He's not a telepath. How could he know? How could he know that he's not the only gay man in the motel room, that Charles's dreams that night were filled with that skilled body, that soft voice, that beautiful copper hair? And how could Charles tell him?
Charles is famished, so he just drags Erik to the closest restaurant and sits down. Erik doesn't even bat an eye, it's not the first time since they started recruiting, and he knows that Charles' telepathy is making him need more calories than a baseline human. And, to be honest, Charles is not the only one who requires a bit more to manifest his powers properly.
Italian: Se senti campane cantare / Vedrai Coraline che piange / Che prende il dolore degli altri / E poi lo porta dentro lei
English: if you hear bells singing / You'll see Coraline crying / Taking the pain of others / Carrying it inside of her
When they receive the menu, Charles smirks slightly at Erik's surprise.
“You will let me order for you,” Erik orders, his voice having that tone that's excluding no from the acceptable answers. Charles nods and watches Erik inspect the menu and then order what sounds like enough food for five people, not a single word familiar to Charles' ears.
“Please don't poison me,” Charles mumbles after the waiter leaves with the menus. Erik shakes his head, a playful smile on his lips as he takes off the leather jacket that has become an extension of his skin despite the heatwave.
“Why would I poison the only tolerable person on the planet?” he snorts and watches Charles laugh at the reaction. Then, they sit in silence, both enjoying Erik's ease with the place, like he finally found where he can breathe. Just because he happened to be dragged to a Jewish owned restaurant during Charles' crusade for food.
“Can I ask you something?” Charles hesitates, he doesn't want to spoil Erik's mood. It's the first time he sees him so unguarded, and it'd be a shame to ruin it. Erik shrugs, waiting. “How long has it been since you last ate what you ordered?” he watches carefully for a negative reaction, but it never comes.
Charles knows that Erik has stopped believing. It's something he found out when he searched his mind that night with the submarine. And, by his refusal to cook anything other than fried eggs and pasta, he knows that his cooking skills are barely existent. Yet, he asks.
“Oh, well…” Erik mutters, trying to remember. His memory is usually better than most, so that's not a good indicator. “Since I was… 8-ish? It was harder for my mother to find ingredients after we fled after Kristallnacht, and I never really learned how to cook on my own,” he doesn't sound upset, not really. But Charles knows that the low hum of his mind is the same grief as every time he mentions his mother, his life before Shaw or the camp.
Erik keeps that hum as private as he can, letting it slip only whenever he thinks Charles is asleep, well after midnight. And Charles knows how to identify that hum only because he searched Erik's mind. But Erik is now letting that hum play, in a public place. Charles doesn't see the angry man everyone sees right now, just someone deprived of comfort, and he's willing to deliver.
“Then, I am sure you'll enjoy them,” he smiles, his eyes gleaming when he notices Erik's smirk, the hum getting more quiet. They're quick to fall into a familiar trance, sharing a comfortable silence that's interrupted only by judging the bystanders.
All until the food arrives.
Erik likes to present himself as a cynical man, someone untouched by whatever happened to him and whatever happens to people around him. He's exceptionally good at this, so good that even he believes it to be true. But after that night in the dock in Miami, Charles knows that he's the exact opposite. If he hadn't been in his mind, he'd also believe what everyone else does, that Erik is cold and emotionless.
And if he did, watching him stay frozen at the sight of the full of food dishes would be completely unexpected. But he knows better.
“Erik?” he asks, his voice low as he tries to not startle him. Erik still tenses for a split second, the dull knife on his right turning towards Charles. He shakes his head, tries to speak, but stays with his mouth agape before forcing it shut. One hand goes to his face, tries to rub off something from his eyes, Charles needs time to realize he’s wiping tears.
“Pardon me…” Erik's voice is barely audible as he gets up and escapes to the bathroom. Everything inside Charles screams at him to follow, to make sure Erik's okay, not alone, anything. But he knows that Erik doesn't exactly welcome emotional support, that he'll just go elsewhere until he recomposes himself.
The food is cold when Erik returns, untouched, even though Charles' body begs for food. He still manages to eat most of the table, Erik nibbling from here and there between taunts at how nothing will disappear if Charles breathes between bites. But Erik's voice is deeper, tinted with that sadness the low hum indicates, and his mood won't lift until the next morning.
“You can read me whenever you feel like it, you're always welcome,” Erik says, still coming down from the high, pressing Charles' naked back against his bare chest. His voice is a murmur, easier to feel than to listen. Charles's head isn't in a better state, he doesn't question. And even if he did, Erik would be asleep before he could answer.
Italian: Però lei sa la verità / Non è per tutti andare avanti / Con il cuore che è diviso in due metà, / È freddo già. / È una bambina però sente come un peso / E prima o poi si spezzerà
English: But she knows the truth / Not everyone can carry on / With their heart split in two / And it's cold already / She's a child, but she feels a weight / And sooner or later she'll break
He still meant it. Never offended or scared as Charles brushes through his thoughts. They would stay silent together, their minds mixed into one, like colors during a sunrise. One would use the link instead of speaking, either for privacy or because he didn't dare break the silence.
And Charles loves Erik's mind. It shines among the others like a diamond among gravel, attracting his telepathy like the most powerful magnet. He doesn't know if it's part of Erik's mutation or just the way he is, but there's no complaint. There's a pleasant mix of everything in Erik's mind, like a busy but cozy room. A harmony of languages, memories, ideas, and emotions, all one intertwining with the other as if threads of a luxurious piece of fabric.
But Erik's mind is not always the best place to be.
Charles's telepathy can sense trauma, spot it with ease. In most minds, it's like a flood of memories and feelings, threatening to tear apart everything with the most simple tap. Erik's mind is unique even in that way. It's not a flood, never a flood. Not even when he is overwhelmed or upset. It's like a pipe with a small leak, drop after drop hitting his mind, the erosion slowly doing its work but never stopping.
Charles is welcome in Erik's mind, but Erik still has areas that are restricted, protected by walls, areas the erosion has affected. Charles doesn't mess with the walls, averts his attention whenever he gets close, and he knows that Erik avoids these places as well.
Only a few times they touched these areas, when Charles was keeping the link while they were both tired and drunk in their motel room. At that moment, the walls were thin, and Charles's presence in Erik's mind was the tap to break them down.
Within moments, both men were reduced to hyperventilating messes, clenching onto one another like their lives depend on it. They tried to soothe each other, Charles apologizing for messing with his mind and Erik insisting that it's just a memory, that he knows how to handle it, but it's something new for Charles. They'll need almost two hours and five packs of cigarettes to manage to calm down relatively, but sleep is long forgotten.
Charles is still invited in Erik's mind, but he knows to keep the walls at arm's length.
Charles is reading in the leisure area on the base, enjoying the few moments of privacy. Until Moira comes in.
Italian: E la gente dirà: "Non vale niente / Non riesce neanche a uscire da una misera porta" / Ma un giorno, una volta, lei ci riuscirà
English: And people will say: “she's worth nothing / She can't even walk out of one stupid door” / But one day, some day, she'll do it
“We need to talk about Erik,” she drags a chair right in front of Charles, stubbornly sitting in.
“If it's about the leftover incident, he said your food is, and I quote, so unseasoned she could be eating paper and never know unless she started farting confetti, so I doubt he'll steal from you again,” Charles tilts his head, book closed on his lap.
“He is a liability, he won't hesitate to go rogue upon seeing Shaw,” she informs Charles, her eyes scanning him. “And we don't know if he's in position to help,” she adds, hesitant. Charles needs just one glance in her mind to find what made her suddenly so unsure about Erik.
The CIA has files on everyone, Erik Included. She opened it, found out about Erik's history with Shaw.
“I assure you, Moira. Erik is dedicated to stopping Shaw, powerful enough to do so and in his right mind,” he smiles, trying to brush off her concern without using his power. She doesn't seem to listen.
“Charles, he was in a camp! He met Shaw there! You can't possibly think it's a good idea to have him involved,” she insists, more upset about the information she received than about the strategy. Charles pauses for a bit, tries to think of his next move.
“I hope that you understand that this means that Erik is the one insisting on this, not that he is not in the state to confront Shaw,” Charles leans forward, smiling as Moira's mouth is agape.
“You can't possibly trust him! He's…” she trails off, and everything clicks.
“I think, if you have any argument about Erik's presence, he should be present to listen to your criticism,” he points out, watching Moira's blood leave her face. “Unless, of course, you know he'll be angry at your ideas, and for a good reason,” he smirks as the woman stays speechless.
“Listen to me well, Moira. You could drop the Shaw case, and so could I. Erik will either kill Shaw or die trying. On this mission, he is the most rigid of us, the most likely to take this to the end. And, if your bigotry gets in our way, I'll have him informed, and I assure you, he has no mercy for people like you and I have no reason to put some on his head. So, either you keep those words to yourself and assist us in stopping Shaw, or we continue without you, and I leave you unprotected to Erik's will. Do we have an understanding?” he watches satisfied as Moira struggles to find words, as she glances at the door, waiting for Erik to storm in.
“He will die trying,” she whispers, her confidence gone. At this, Charles chuckles.
“It's more possible for the sun to rise from the West,” he knows very well that his smile as he forms the words isn't because he won the argument.
No one is up at that hour. Moira and the rest of the kids have long fallen asleep. But Charles still feels the buzz of a mind keeping him up. When he realizes that the mind will just not shut up, he takes matters into his own hands.
Italian: E ho detto a Coraline che può crescere / Prendere le sue cose e poi partire / Ma sente un mostro che la tiene in gabbia / Che le ricopre la strada di mine
English: And I tell Coraline she can grow up / Take her things and then leave / But she feels a monster caging her / And covering her path with mine
He doesn't need to wander around, but he does have to look up at the roof to spot Erik sitting on the roof tiles and gazing at the woods.
«I suppose you are not looking for company, right?» Charles asks, his eyes on Erik as he drifts his gaze from the horizon to the balcony, to Charles.
«This doesn't mean you should go,» he pushes the thought away, a faint smile barely visible in the dark. Charles smiles back, swiftly climbs up until he's sitting by Erik's side.
“I didn't have you for such a good climber,” Erik smirks, eyes back to the forest.
“I grew up here, Erik. I know how to go anywhere in this house. The question is, how did you get up here?” he asks back, his eyebrow raised instinctively as he watches Erik.
“You have your tricks, I have mine…” he sighs, his fingers tapping the metal ashtray he somehow managed to get up here. Charles takes a deep breath, hugs one leg without thinking about it.
“You know, I have been thinking…” he trails off, testing the waters. He knows Erik won't like it, but he can present it lightly.
“You do that quite often,” Erik hums, one hand holding Charles's, tracing lines. He looks calm, that's a good sign.
“Are you sure you need to take down Shaw? You don't owe it to anyone. I understand it's what you built your life on, and it's definitely within your abilities. But Shaw's death won't lessen your pain, won't bring you peace,” Charles is careful, scanning Erik. He doesn't tense, doesn't emit rage like whenever Moira tries to discourage him from continuing. He just stays silent, then slowly brings his cigarette to his lips for a long drag.
“Peace was never an option,” he turns around, his gaze locking with Charles's. “And even if it is, it's not available to me. It's not an option I can follow. This… it's all I know, Charles. All I am. Whatever light you say is in me, you brought back to the surface, it's just there to push me forward, to… help me form an idea of what I want to create,” Erik speaks about a time after Shaw for the first time. Charles didn't even know that he had a plan for after Shaw. He can't help but smile, despite the promise that Erik will kill Shaw.
“And… I want you to be part of it, Charles. That monster may have made our paths cross, but we can make something great out of it,” Erik cups Charles's hand, his eyes moving all around Charles's face. An alliance, a common goal beyond Shaw. A life with Erik.
How can Charles say no?
They don't know how long they've been on that roof, just enjoying the silence, but Charles can see the sun rising between the trees. He turns, watches as the morning light illustrates Erik, makes his hair slowly get back its reddening tint, his eyes claiming that odd color, not quite blue but not quite green. He's never been so glad that his telepathy gives him an incredible memory, that he'll never forget that image.
Italian: Sarò il fuoco ed il freddo / Riparo d'inverno / Sarò ciò che respiri / Capirò cosa hai dentro / E sarò l'acqua da bere / Il significato del bene / Sarò anche un soldato / O la luce di sera / E in cambio non chiedo niente / Soltanto un sorriso / Ogni tua piccola lacrima è oceano sopra al mio viso / E in cambio non chiedo niente / Solo un po' di tempo / Sarò vessillo, scudo / O la tua spada d'argento
English: I'll be your fire and your cold / Your winter shelter / I'll be what you breathe / I'll understand what you have inside you / I'll be the water you drink / The meaning of good / I'll even be a soldier / Or your light in the evening / And in return I ask for nothing / Just a smile / Every little tear of yours is an ocean to my face / And in return I ask nothing / Just a little time / I'll be your banner, your shield / Or your silver sword
“You know, you don't have to do it all alone. I am here for you,” Charles doesn't think before he speaks, holding his breath in case Erik doesn't take it lightly.
Maybe it's the warmth of the moment, or the sleeplessness, but Erik laughs. His shoulders are shaking, his feet closer to his chest as he wipes tears.
“I thought that this was already established,” he breathes out eventually, leaning back until he's laying on the roof. There's something in that glint behind his eyes, that toothy smile. Charles can't help but find himself just as relaxed.
“No, I mean… you can talk to me about things… you can… I won't be just an ally to your fight. I want to be more. Your… your support… your serenity. Erik, if you let me, I'll be anything you need,” he pierces Erik with his eyes, watching as he rubs his face, lazily stretches his legs.
“Can you be just Charles? That's all I'll ever ask you to be…” Erik manages to hide a yawn perfectly, but his sleepiness is loud to Charles's mind. Charles chuckles, offering a small nod as an answer.
“Sure, but can we get down before you fall asleep on the roof?” he playfully nudges Erik, who in return rolls his eyes.
“I'm not tired, you're tired. You just… throw your tiredness into my mind,” the half-baked claim is accompanied by a series of vague gestures on the space between Erik's and Charles's head. It just makes Charles laugh more.
“Whatever, say that when you start snoring,” Charles slowly moves to the edge, watching Erik follow.
He doesn't say a word, just carefully goes down to the balcony and drags Charles with him to their bedroom. Neither bother to change clothes, just to kick off their shoes and collapse on the bed. Charles feels his eyes heavier, maybe Erik wasn't wrong about him being tired as well.
“Charles?” Erik mumbles, face plastered in the pillow, but he doesn't care enough to turn around. Charles gives him a small hum, eyes closing. “You really mean it? You'll be there?” he asks, not alert enough to have that conversation.
“Of course, I love you,” Charles doesn't think before he answers, and doesn't care if Erik reacts negatively.
“Mmm, I love you too,” Erik's words are barely there, he falls asleep before he could see Charles smiling.
They had found comfort in sleeping side by side, on the same bed. Charles feels less lonely with Erik's warm (always warm, always buzzing with life, always beautiful) body at arm's reach and Erik feels safe with Charles's power protecting him, for the first time since he was a kid.
Italian: E Coraline piange / Coraline ha l'ansia / Coraline vuole il mare ma ha paura dell'acqua / E forse il mare è dentro di lei / E ogni parola è un'ascia / Un taglio sulla schiena / Come una zattera che naviga in un fiume in piena / E forse il fiume è dentro di lei, di leip
English: And Coraline cries / Coraline's anxious / Coraline wants the sea but is afraid of water / And maybe the water is inside her / And every words is an axe / A cut on the back / Like a raft sailing on a raging river / And maybe the river is inside her, inside her.
But Erik still can't sleep, can't even close his eyes.
Tomorrow's the day they'll fight Shaw, when he'll kill him or die trying. He feels the coin burning in his jacket's pocket, he doesn't know if it's his imagination or his powers.
Killing Shaw will not bring you peace, Charles had said to him some time ago. Charles, who's now sleeping by his side, blissfully unaware. But can Erik have peace? After everything he's seen, he's gone through, and he's done, is he worthy of peace. Does he even know how to live a peaceful life, when he barely remembers his life before the camp?
He knows very well that his mother wouldn't want to see him get drowned in violence, and he knows Charles expects more, knows that Erik is more. But no matter how hard Erik wants to be that more, he doesn't know how. He has no clue how to be something other than his anger, and then his guilt. He's trapped in the life of vengeance that he formed, a cage of his own creation.
He doesn't know when he started crying, he wasn't even aware of it until Charles is awake, his huge blue eyes filled with worry. “Erik? Come here, please,” Charles raises one hand, laid on his side. Without a second or even a first thought, Erik sinks into the embrace.
He doesn't like people watching him cry, or show any type of vulnerability. And he's sure that Charles has only seen him tear up, shed a tear or two. But tonight, he lets it all out. He lets himself sob, weep, dig his hands on Charles's bare skin as his body and the metal bed frame are shaking. Charles stays there, traces flowers on Erik's back, mutters sweet nonsense with his soft posh voice until Erik can breathe again.
Erik doesn't push Charles away, but Charles lies on his back, makes Erik put his head on his chest, feel the telepath's heartbeat as his feet from ankle down are hanging over the bed. He closes his eyes, focuses on the air going in and out.
“You know, you don't have to know how to live a peaceful life. You can learn and adapt. And I'm sure you'll do great,” Charles muses. Others would be offended by Charles's snooping around, but Erik knows it's his natural state, and he would never kick Charles out. He doesn't have the words, but he does his best to send a wave of gratitude to Charles. By his smile, Erik assumes it's a success.
Son? Son?!
Italian: Coraline, bella come il sole / Ha perso il frutto del suo ventre / Non ha conosciuto l'amore / Ma un padre che di padre ha niente / Le han detto in città c'è un castello / Con mura talmente potenti / Che se ci vai a vivere dentro / Non potrà colpirti più niente
English: Coraline beautiful like the sun / She lost the fruit of her womb / She never knew love / She has a father that's nothing like a father / They told her there's a castle in town / With such strong walls / That if you live in there / Nothing will hurt you again
The asshole had the audacity to call Erik his son?! After he killed his mother? After he experimented on him?
Erik feels his blood boiling with rage, every fiber of his being ready to kill Shaw. Charles, still in his mind, screams at Erik that he's better, that he doesn't have to.
Charles says he's been in Erik's mind, that he knows. He doesn't know shit.
Shaw is frozen in place, holding the helmet. A helmet against telepaths, against Charles.
A helmet that will keep Erik intact, that will never allow anyone else inside.
A helmet that will keep him safe from harm.
His hands are slow as he puts it on, as Charles fades with a scream. Now it's just him and Shaw, as Erik pushes the coin inside the fucker's skull.
It's all done. He took his revenge, he's free. And with his helmet, he's free from everyone.
Italian: Non potrà colpirti più niente
English: Nothing will hurt you again
~~~~~
Taglist: @lucywrites02 @electroma89 @wrenhyperfixates @rorybutnotgilmore @hybrid-in-progress @weirdfangirl2416 @darkacademicfrom2021 @nicoistrying @twhiddlestonsstuff @kozkalovesloki @thewindandthewolves @gaitwae @leucoratia
#lucreatives02#xmen fic#cherik fic#xmen fanfiction#xmen first class#cherik fanfic#xmen fanfic#implied smut#trauma tw#tw smoking#mention of alcohol#tw antisemitism#tw language#canon typical violence#angst#no beta we get sucked into turbohell like men#no beta we saunter vaguely downwards like crowley#no beta we go to superhell like gay angels#no beta this is war
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Round 8, Finals
#not sacrificed just very behind on life!#round 8#arthur pendragon#merlin bbc#wtnv#wtnv interns#Crowley#good omens#fanfiction
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Sending you a link to a poll for a tournament final (tumblr dot com/we-die-like-x-tag-tournament/747469967397699584/round-8-finals)
It's a competition for the best fandom-specific "No beta we die like (x)" tag on AO3. Ours is "we fall/saunter vaguely downwards like Crowley" and he's neck-and-neck right now!
Oooh! :) Vote here! :)
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Here is a list of my favourite “Not beta read” AO3 tags from this week.
No beta we die like Jason Todd (this was not a DC fic)
No beta we die like men (a classic)
No Beta We Die Like Eddie Diaz's heterosexuality (can confirm, he was very gay at the end)
No beta we die like buck (referring to Evan Buckley, who temporarily died)
No beta we die like buck in nearly every episode (100% accurate, man has a tough life)
No beta because i take silly little risks with silly little things (10/10 love it)
No beta we die like goose (it was a TopGun crossover fic)
No beta we die like eddie's heterosexuality in 2x01 (2x01 being the first time we meet Eddie [and Eddie meets Buck])
No beta we die like allison argent (Teen Wolf fic, made sense)
No Beta we die unlike Matt Donovan (ironic because he’s the only one that didn’t die)
No beta we die like Barb (Stranger Things fic, self explanatory)
No beta we saunter vaguely downwards like Crowley (My #1 favourite this week)
#fanfiction#911#marvel#steter#steve harrington#steve rogers#stranger things#teen wolf#top gun#AO3#Eddie Diaz#Evan Buckley#Jason Todd#supernatural#Crowley#vampire diaries
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I Still Owe You One From ... Paris 1793
I Still Owe You One From ... Paris 1793
by Arielavader
Crowley and Aziraphale go to lunch after the demon rescued the angel from having his head chopped off. While at lunch, Crowley is invited to a fête by some of the revolutionaries. They have to go. And then things get a bit interesting....
Words: 4909, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Good Omens (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Categories: M/M
Characters: Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Additional Tags: Post-Scene: Paris 1793 (Good Omens), Crowley is a Mess (Good Omens), Jealous Crowley (Good Omens), Getting Together, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Sex Pollen, Pining, First Kiss, I made a NSFW trope SFW mostly, no beta we saunter vaguely downward like crowley, Aziraphale and Crowley Like Holding Hands (Good Omens), Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff
From https://ift.tt/KnfDGQw
https://archiveofourown.org/works/48097621
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I'll Take Care of You (They Say I've Gone Crazy)
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/M3jdwZg
by WargishBoromirFan
Crowley is very good at protecting the boss's son from his father. Not so much at protecting him from himself.
While Crowley would go up against God and the devil with nothing but a tire iron for the kids he's raised, it's not much help when the first one was the devil. Adam's nudge towards America worked on his (not) father, too.
Words: 2274, Chapters: 1/12, Language: English
Series: Part 1 of I'll Take Care of You
Fandoms: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Good Omens (TV), Lucifer (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: F/M, Gen, M/M
Characters: Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale (Good Omens), Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Adam Young (Good Omens), Warlock Dowling, Mazikeen (Lucifer TV), Trixie Espinoza, Pepper (Good Omens), Brian (Good Omens), Wensleydale (Good Omens), Amenadiel (Lucifer TV), Ella Lopez, Linda Martin (Lucifer TV), Marcus Pierce, Eve (Lucifer TV), Azrael (Lucifer TV)
Relationships: Crowley & Satan | Lucifer (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV) & Adam Young (Good Omens), Minor or Background Relationship(s), Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, Aziraphale & Crowley & The Them (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Cain (Good Omens), Abel & Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley & Eve (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Crowley & Warlock Dowling, Azrael & Ella Lopez, Trixie Espinoza & Lucifer Morningstar
Additional Tags: Crowley Loves Kids (Good Omens), THE FIC, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Post-Apocalypse, Crowley Was Not Raphael Before Falling (Good Omens), (But he may have played one for a prank), Fallen Angels and their issues with kids, Footnotes, no beta we saunter vaguely downwards like Crowley, Team Mom Crowley, Can be seen as ace relationship; can be seen as more hands-on; I won't stop you now
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/M3jdwZg
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Ok but why is the tag trend on AO3 of "no beta we die like (insert character that has died in that fandom)" so funny?
Ex:
No beta we die like Wilbur
Or other variations like:
No beta we saunter vaguely downwards like Crowley
Like, it shouldn't be that funny but it is.
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Black And White And Shimmering Blue Under The Sun
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3mGLbml
by Whatafuckingdumbass
Gods have wings, and you get peculiarly curious about a specific one's.
Words: 2193, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: Gen, Other
Characters: Loki (Marvel), Thor (Marvel), Other Avengers, Reader
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader, Loki (Marvel) & Reader
Additional Tags: Reader-Insert, Wings, Alternate Universe - Wings, Fluff, Light Whump, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, heights, Flying, Tickle Fights, No Plot/Plotless, no beta we saunter vaguely downwards like Crowley, no beta we get sucked into turbohell like men
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3mGLbml
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Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Lucifer (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Good Omens (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Crowley (Good Omens) & Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Chloe Decker & Lucifer Morningstar
Characters: Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale (Good Omens), Chloe Decker
Additional Tags: Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV) Gets a Hug, he rightfully deserved all along, Crowley was Raphael before he fell, Crowley is a Good Bro, lucifer is a mess, mentions of - Freeform, Blood, Gore, because people are people, i should have writen it the moment it started forming in my head - regrets, Wings, Post-Devil Face Reveal to Chloe Decker, Soft Crowley (Good Omens), with a side of being asshat, Chloe Decker trying to clobber somebody to death with cheap bedside decoration, Injury, Wing Injury, Wings as Perfect Replacement for Blanket, No beta - we saunter vaguely downwards, like celestial beings should, Violence
Summary:
It wasn't Raphael.
But it also couldn't be anybody else.
Lucifer is a complete mess and I had feelings about this, so here is a story where he gets something more then 'tough luck, pardner' to carry him over.
#GodOfWar writes#writer in theorem#Lucifer#good omens#hurt/comfort#as god intended#so married#plus#angst
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Amma
Pairing: Loki x Reader
Warnings: Grief, Frigga's death, nightmares, Loki being sad
Summary: Loki's nightmares are usually violent. But lately, they only cry out a word, Amma
Notes: I kept seeing Frigga being called Amma in fics and got the idea
Read on AO3
You have been in the tower for months, placed as a backup agent for the God of Mischief (well, Fury just wanted to play matchmaker but neither you nor Loki have the heart to admit that you realized what happened) and you have mastered the unwritten rules of being Loki's roommate.
To be honest, they are exceptionally few. Know that they count the sweets they stash, if you steal something you must place it exactly where you found it, never make fun of Lady Gaga without a death-wish and never, ever, ever, unless it's life or death, wake up Loki when they're having a nightmare.
It's common amongst agents and soldiers and warriors to sleep lightly and be ready to strike even at rest, and Loki isn't an exception. When sleeping peacefully, or just dozing off, you can barely get close without their cold hand gripping your wrist, eyes scanning you for the longest second before they relax and go back to sleep. But, Loki's nightmares are more violent than that.
You don't know (and frankly don't want to) what the ever living fuck Loki has endured, but their nightmares are just terrifying to witness, you can't even begin to imagine what it's like living them. Of course, Loki's not an idiot, and tried to warn you on your first days, that it gets very intense, and it's better to let it die out. But no, you thought. It can't be that bad, you thought.
The same fucking night, you were sure the tower was collapsing. Everything was shaking, green flashes of lights were striking in a seemingly random frequency, and Loki was screaming for dear life in Old Norse. So, like an idiot, you decide to investigate, and find Loki wrestling with the torn pillow, still sleeping. And, like a bigger idiot, you decide to wake them up.
In a matter of seconds, you end up pinned on the floor with your nose bleeding and Loki apologizing like crazy and trying to heal you while half asleep and half panicking. And, for that night, you decide to never attempt to wake Loki from a nightmare from up close.
But still, from the chaos of the night and Loki's tiredness the next day, you always knew when Loki was having a nightmare. Then, it changed during the winter.
It's late at night, and you want to use the bathroom (which is closer to Loki's room than yours). And you can hear Loki whimpering from the walls. You've seen Loki cry, more times than they're proud to admit, but have never witnessed them whimper, and they have never cried during a nightmare. You could swear, they were crying out a word, Amma.
You don't want to ask Loki about it, so you go to the next best bet, Thor. But, when he hears the word, his face darkens, and he walks away without a word. After that, both brothers are the gloomiest you've ever seen them. Both are barely leaving their rooms, Thor Is overeating while you have to beg Loki to eat a bite, and the weeping in the dead of the night isn't stopping. No one has any idea what's happening, why both of them got like that in a matter of days.
Thor is still down when he takes you aside and explains, both, the meaning of the word and why Loki is crying it out every night. He also makes you promise to not leave them alone tonight, since he can't bear being with them.
The same evening, just as the stars start to shine, you find Loki on the balcony, staring at the sky, looking for something. They did that several times this week, but just now you realize who they're looking for.
“Do you mind if I sit?” You whisper, not daring to interrupt. Loki nods, their eyes pinned on the stars.
“Thor told you…” they don't ask, just seek for confirmation. You don't argue, and they take the silence as a yes. “You can say what you want to,” they hum.
“Loki, I'm so sorry for your loss, I can't imagine what it's like losing a mo-” you try to speak, but get interrupted.
“No, you can't,” they speak blandly, their voice dead. You would be hurt, but they're right. You can't imagine what it's like losing someone as close as Loki was to their mother. You can't even begin to imagine their pain. Yet, Loki sighs. “I apologize, I was harsh…” they rub their nose bridge, trying to hold back tears.
“No, it's okay…” you reassure them. “Do you want to talk about her, a distraction or silence?” You ask. It's a tradition, at this point, to suggest these three whenever Loki feels down. This time, you're sure they'll ask for silence.
“I think talking about her would honour her more than silence,” Loki decides with a deep breath.
“You can change your mind whenever you want,” you remind and turn the chair a bit, just so you can face them. And Loki finally looks down from the stars and at you.
They start explaining her character; how empathetic and kind and generous and brave she was, how she was the only one able to calm down Odin, how she could manage to tame two wild boys with a superiority complex so effortlessly, how she was always there for both her sons, not playing favourites, not comparing. She just loved them both.
Then, Loki starts sharing stories with her. A lot of times, in other stories of their shenanigans with Thor, their mother was there, but they never elaborated on her or even said her name, you assume it hurt too much. Even when mentioning her, in the stories before, Loki would call her “The Queen”, not Mother, or even Frigga.
But now, their tongue lets her name slip, again and again. After some stories, Loki effortlessly replaces Frigga with Mother, and then, Amma. You are hanging from Loki's lips, watching as their eyes glimmer with something other than tears, and even a little smile appears every time the word “Amma” passes their lips.
And then, the smiles die out, and Loki's face darkens again. “Do you know what my last words were to her?” They ask, bending one leg and hugging the shin. You stay silent, waiting for Loki to brush it off.
“I… it was while I was in my cell… She had come there, with an illusion, to try to talk me into apologizing to Odin, trying to at least gain the privilege of visitors… For eighteen months, she'd come and beg me to swallow my pride and retreat. But I was too fucking arrogant. And I was getting tired of seeing her only to get reminded that I have nothing to hold onto… and… I yelled at her, that Odin is not my father… it's the first time I had yelled at her… and she said “then I'm not your mother,” and… I wanted to beg her to forgive me, to fall on my knees like some fucking toddler and cry that I was wrong, and I'm sorry… but I was too stupid to swallow my pride, and… I told her, “no, you're not” and broke her spell….” Loki stops to take some deep breaths, their hands shaking as they try to wipe their tears. You want to hug them, but you know they're not done yet.
“And then, some prisoners escape. One of them is a Kursed, a Dark Elf with destructive magic in them, giving them the strength of a thousand men… and, for some fucking reason, I told him how to go to the stables, where the hammers and whips are held…. Next thing I know, there's a big battle, and a guard comes and tells me that she died… When… when Thor came and promised me revenge, he directed me to that Kursed I helped…” they can barely hold their sobbing, their voice barely a whisper on the last part. “And I think I'm to blame for her death,” they lower their head after that, trying to wipe the still flowing tears.
You get up from your chair and offer a hug, Loki dragging you to their chair and holding you like they'll die, letting all the pain run down freely. You don't say a word, can't say a word. You can only hold them, trace random patterns with your thumb on their back, give them a shoulder to cry to until the sobs fade into small sniffles.
When Loki is done, they don't let you go. No, they carefully turn you around and make you sit on their lap, still clinging onto you. You hold their hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“It's… she gave me my magic, and saved my life… and… the way that I use it… the way that I took this tool made to heal and create joy and turned it into this… this weapon of destruction… I feel like I failed her…” they whisper. You keep tracing that curved line on their palm with your hand, trying to think.
“Can I ask, why were you looking at the stars like that?” You ask.
“It's an old Æsir belief. After a funeral, the body becomes yellow sparkles, so people believe that the deceased ones can see us through the stars,” they explain, gazing at the stars again. Then, you get the idea.
“Stars are omnipresent, even when we don’t see them. So, your mother sees you all the time, and she watches you grow and turn that “weapon” back into something beautiful that saves lives. And she’s watching you face your emotions and improving your relationships with others. I bet her heart swells with pride as watches you,” you turn around to face them as you speak. Tears form in their eyes again, but it’s not entirely sadness.
“Do you mean this, or do you say it on an attempt to make me feel better?” Loki asks, voice shaking.
“I wouldn’t say something I don’t mean on a matter that is so important to you,” you watch as they smile through the tears and hug you tightly again.
“Thank you, dear. Can we switch into the silence option now?” they ask lowly, you nod. And you stay silent, laid on Loki’s shoulder and watching the stars with them until you both fall asleep on the balcony.
Tonight, Loki did call out for their “Amma” in their sleep. But they didn’t cry, and when you woke up before them, you swear you saw them smiling.
~~~~~
Taglist: @lucywrites02 @electroma89 @the-emo-asgardian @rorybutnotgilmore @hybrid-in-progress @weirdfangirl2416 @darkacademicfrom2021 @nicoistrying @twhiddlestonsstuff @kozkalovesloki @thewindandthewolves @gaitwae @leucoratia
#loki fic#loki x reader#loki fanfiction#loki fanfic#loki & Frigga#marvel angst#loki angst#hurt/comfort#loki needs a hug#loki gets a hug#sad loki#grief/mourning#grief cw#no beta we get sucked into turbohell like men#no beta we saunter vaguely downwards like crowley#no beta we go to superhell like gay angels#no beta this is war
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Round 4, Poll 2
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Tell Me Later
Tell Me Later
by aziraphales (sabxism)
Aziraphale set himself to sorts, making a series of confused noises before settling on a pensive silence. He glanced up to thank the young boy, but instead found that the world had frozen around him. The air hummed with a miracle–not his, so it had been–
“Crowley, why–oh!” he exclaimed, query cut short by two slender arms spinning him around and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug.
or
Crowley freezes time just after Adam puts Aziraphale and Tracy back to rights to have a proper reunion with his angel.
Words: 460, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: M/M
Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens)
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Additional Tags: Fluff and Angst, Fluff, Love Confessions, Basically, Hugs, Forehead Touching, no beta we saunter vaguely downwards like Crowley
From https://ift.tt/D2XM0Nk
https://archiveofourown.org/works/45995707
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When the clouds growled overhead
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3qyMTtm
by TopHatsRCool
Crowley and Aziraphale go for a date of sorts in the botanical gardens, only for it to start pouring on them.
------
Written for a friend, kind of crack.
Title from Tally Hall's Spring and a Storm
Words: 487, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: M/M
Characters: Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Additional Tags: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), crowley is a dumb ass bitch, no beta we saunter vaguely downwards like Crowley, botanical gardens, Rain, look at them go, theyre sharing umbrellas, Aziraphale is a Little Shit (Good Omens), I wrote this like a month ago, Crack
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3qyMTtm
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Two Kings And One Guard
read it on the AO3 at https://bit.ly/3rbhVYp
by Whatafuckingdumbass
The Jotnar attacked the palace, and Thor wants -- needs revenge for ruining his coronation. But Heimdall does not allow Thor to use the bifrost
Words: 1079, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English
Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies), Norse Religion & Lore
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: Gen
Characters: Loki (Marvel), Thor (Marvel), Odin (Marvel), Heimdall (Marvel), Laufey (Marvel), Sif (Marvel), Fandral (Marvel), Hogun (Marvel), Volstagg (Marvel), Alexander Pierce
Relationships: Loki & Thor (Marvel), Laufey & Loki (Marvel), Odin & Thor (Marvel), Loki & Odin (Marvel), Loki & Sif (Marvel), Sif & Thor (Marvel), Warrios Three & Thor (marvel), Warrions Three & Loki (marvel), Heimdall & Thor (Marvel), Heimdall & Loki (Marvel)
Additional Tags: Long, Protective Loki (Marvel), Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Thor (Marvel), Daddy Issues, Heimdall is a Good Bro (Marvel), Loki is a Good Bro (Marvel), Odin's A+ Parenting (Marvel), Laufey's Good Parenting (Marvel), Hydra (Marvel), no beta we go to superhell like gay angels, no beta we saunter vaguely downwards like Crowley, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, thor 1, Fix-It
read it on the AO3 at https://bit.ly/3rbhVYp
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Roll for Initiative
by boughofawillowtree
After the Apocalypse-that-wasn't, Gabriel starts hanging out on earth and discovering the joys of earthly hobbies, including D&D and baking. Aziraphale and Crowley are especially thrilled to introduce their new friend to the pleasures of the flesh. For one of their threesomes, they decide to try some consensual non-consent roleplay. Shenanigans ensue.
We were goofing around on the Good Omens Kink Meme server about Gabriel being dorky during a CNC scene. I decided to riff on it and then this happened. This is the most ridiculous thing I've ever written. You're welcome.
I'm tossing this up without much editing, so please forgive any issues like repetitive words or whatever.
Words: 6120, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Good Omens (TV)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: M/M
Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens), Gabriel (Good Omens)
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley/Gabriel (Good Omens), Crowley/Gabriel (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Additional Tags: Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay, Rape Roleplay, Consensual Non-Consent, CNC, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Crack, Threesome - M/M/M, No betas we saunter vaguely downward, Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), Playful Sex, Safeword Use, Kink Negotiation, Kink Meme, Consensual Kink
Read it at AO3 at http://bit.ly/2sOlgRF
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Final Results
1. No beta we fall/saunter vaguely downwards like Crowley
2. No beta we die like Night Vale Community Radio Interns
3. No beta we die like Arthur Pendragon
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