#THANK YOU SO MUCH I ALMOST MISSED THISSS
Note
May I request a prompt?
Feyre being comforted by Cass and Az when Rhys isn't available or all the bat boys comforting her? Just their fluff?
And maybe Lucien and Rhys bonding because Lucien means so much to Feyre and Rhys making an effort for her?
Ahhhh I LOVEDDD THISSS!!!
thank uuu sooo much for sending this in and I hope u enjoy this fluff monster!💕
Also please be kind with me, I haven’t edited this properly, studying for exams iss a bitchhh
Spoiler warning for anyone who hasn’t read acosf...
Uncles Retreat
Rhys was gone.
Well, he was not home.
Ok fine he was at the Palace of Jewels but Feyre missed him horribly. She had thought it was impossible to miss him with every cell of her body but each new day shows her that her love for Rhys was like time; eternal and sweet.
Feyre sighed and decided that she wouldn’t get out of bed today, she had meetings to attend herself but after being pregnant her duties had lessened and Rhys made sure that she was stress-free, “Cauldron, I love him so much.” She said to their empty room but she heard a chuckle from the bond.
Her heart leapt as Rhys stroked talons down her shield and she lowered them instantly to let him in.
“Missing me, darling?”
“Horribly.” Rhys chuckled but she knew that he felt the same for the feelings he pushed back told her more than words could convey.
“I’m afraid that I’ll be stuck here for a couple of more hours darling.” Rhys sighed exasperatedly.
“Ugh fine, but can you bring me some dessert from Rita’s before you come home, I had been dreaming about it and now I’m starving!” She could feel Rhys smile with joy and pride as he said, “Tell our son that his father loves him to the end of the galaxy and back and that he will do anything to keep him and his mother happy.”
Feyre laughed, “He’s already got you wrapped around his finger, hasn’t he?”
“Oh most definitely darling, but I’m not complaining. You and Nyx are my everything.”
She could feel his promise resonate through her body but the moment was broken when her stomach rumbled and Rhys took that as his cue to bid goodbye, not before telling her to eat well.
“Overbearing mother hen,” Feyre said softly before getting out of bed to find something to eat.
Seeing the house empty she touched her belly and said to her son, “Looks like it’s just you and me, love.”
“Aha! Not so fast high lady!” said Cassian as he breezed into the house through the front door followed by Azriel who looked at her and her belly and smiled unabashedly, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Oh no.” Feyre exclaimed, “I know that look Az, that’s your ‘Cass has something planned but I won’t let him do it alone lest he burns another building’ look.”
Cassian squawked in offence and turned to glare at his brother who simply shrugged at him, “What? She’s not wrong is she, I didn’t come to that trip to the summer court and you managed to burn down an entire building.”
“It was one building for cauldron’s sake, a teeny tiny building.”
Feyre laughed seeing them bicker and shook her head but her heart warmed that she was finally a part of a family that cared for each other as if they were all related by blood.
Her eyes burned and her throat tightened with emotion, both the Illyrians were at her side in an instant, turning her this way and that, scanning her entire body before saying in unison,
“What hurts.”
“Do I need to call Madja?”
The former from Azriel and the latter from Cassian. Feyre stuck her tongue out at them before answering, “Nothing, you overbearing uncles. I’m fine. Pregnancy hormones, remember?”
They breathed a sigh of relief before beaming,
“Uncles. You called us uncles.” Cassian said, love, etched across his face.
“Well. that’s what you are, aren’t you? Might as well get used to it.”
They laughed and Feyre joined along before asking, “ Why are you here again?”
This time it was Az who replied albeit shyly, “Well, we know Rhys is stuck at meetings so we thought we’ll enjoy some quality time together.”
Feyre squealed with happiness and hugged both Az and Cass or rather squished them together awkwardly.
“ If we knew you were going to be this happy about spending time with us we would’ve kicked Rhys out, a long time ago.” Cassian grinned but frowned as Feyre yelped.
“What’s wrong,” Cassian asked, a promise of death swirling in his eyes at whatever threatened his high lady and her baby.
“I’m fine, he just kicked.”
“What!” they exclaimed,
“Oh that’s right we didn’t tell you guys, he started kicking a while ago.”
Cassian and Azriel stared, their jaws on the floor before Az cleared his throat and motioned whether he could feel her stomach, Feyre nodded, her face softening.
Az’s fingers were slightly shaking as he placed them gently on her round belly and waited, Nyx kicked with all the strength of an Illariyan almost as if he knew that his uncles were watching.
“Oh wow.” Az’s eyes were silver-lined and his lips were shaking, Cassian paid him no heed as he shoved Az and knelt in front of Feyre to put his hands on her belly.
Nyx replied with the same vigour he had shown Azriel.
“Hi, nephew! This is your awesome uncle Cassian speaking, I can’t wait for you to get here so that I can have someone as awesome as me to annoy your mom with.”
Feyre giggled and Cass stood up grinning.
“Now what?” Feyre asked, curious.
“Well, we can do whatever you want,” he replied
“Whatever I want.” Feyre grinned devilishly.
“Yup.”
Feyre giggled, a plan forming in her head. Cassian paled and tried to back away but Azriel caught his collar.
“You’re not going anywhere, you made your bed now lie in it,” Az said only half-joking.
~
Rhys was exhausted.
All he wanted to do was cuddle his pregnant mate and go to sleep not before she enjoyed the special dessert that Rita had made for her High lady, Rhys’s heart swelled with pride at how loved Feyre was. Which was what propelled him to get through with all the hour-long meetings but on arriving at the river house, a sense of dread washed over him.
His home was eerily quiet.
He called Feyre’s name but no reply came, he guessed that she was probably already asleep and decided to go into their room and found to his surprise his brothers sitting on their bed with feyre, all in loose clothing, a huge tray of food on their laps and with face cream and cucumber slices on their faces, their heads were leaned against the bed rest and it seemed as if they were getting facials.
Rhys burst out laughing causing the trio to turn their attention to him, cucumber slices falling out of their eyes and to Rhys’s eternal pleasure Cass and Az opened their mouths to explain but was rudely shushed by Feyre, “You’ll ruin it.” and they immediately shut up
Which caused Rhys to double over with laughter, a hand on the side of his face, they continued staring at him with disinterest.
After a good five minutes of Rhys laughing, he sobered took a steadying breath and said, “Mate, Shadowsinger, General,” nodding towards them he mentioned their names, “ can someone put it on my face too?” he asked and they all squealed with pleasure.
#feyre archeron#rhysand#cassian#Azriel#bro tp#uncles#acotar#nyx#baby nyx#fluff#also i completely forgot what rhys calls az(spymaster?shadowsinger? or both)#answered#anon <3#ask mee#prompt
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An Actual Doctor Is Needed
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I make myself laugh so much with the chapter titles- I really think I’m so funny. I also almost made sibling whumpers again but then I was like... wait. Not again! I pinky promise I did not completely forget about Cameron in this chapter.. I’m pretty sure he has at least one line! Like always, if you see any typos, no you did not<3. Anyways, I hope u enjoy thisss:)
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Tagging: @happy-whumper @heathenville @myst-in-the-mirror
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CW: manhandling, swearing, gun/ gun wound, restraints, hospital environment, minor whumpees.
- - -
The sudden daylight was blinding. Once their eyes had adjusted to the sudden light, they were able to observe the building before it. Made of smooth, white tile, the building looked like it belonged on a university campus, with its modern design. Written in big, black letters on the side of the building were the words ‘C. O. U. R. S. TESTING’. Surrounding the building were trees, spreading for what seemed like forever, and surrounding the truck and driveway were a handful of muscular people, who Eva assumed were security of some sort. All of them were wearing a white uniform with the acronym ‘COURS’ printed on it.
Before Eva could look around any more, she was grabbed roughly and pulled out of the truck by one of the security officers, and though she fought against them, she wasn’t making much of a difference.
Eva heard Sasha scream beside her as she, too, was grabbed and pulled out of the truck, onto the dark pavement of the driveway. “Let go of- get your fucking hands off of me!!”
Eva heard Cameron putting up a similar fight as well, but that didn’t do much, as the three of them were set down on their feet, all very much aware of the presence of the security.
“Let us go,” Sasha spat, glaring at the officers like they were a bug she had squished under her shoe. “or I swear on my fucking life, you’ll all regret it.”
“Tell me, how you plan on doing that?” Called an amused voice from around the truck. Stepping into sight, was the woman who had lured Sasha and Cameron to the truck the night before.
Pale-skinned, her dark brown hair spilling over her head in waves, the woman held herself with confidence Eva only wished she had. Eva shuddered at the sight of her, a vivid memory of being shot by her playing on repeat in her head.
“And why would I tell you?” Sasha snapped. Despite the power imbalance, Sasha still carried with her an air of defiance that made Eva grateful that she was on her side. “The authorities are going to notice I’m missing, it would be smarter to just release us now.”
“That’s not my decision anymore.” The woman smiled, knowingly.
Sasha raised an eyebrow, her glare unfaltering. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I think it’s time for you to meet the Doctor, they’ll be very pleased with you.” The woman hummed, gesturing for the security to follow her as she turned towards the building.
Eva watched in horror as security officers grabbed Sasha’s arms, yanking her towards the building. “What- let the fuck go!!”
“Let her go!” Cameron echoed her words, struggling as he, too, was grabbed by the security.
Narrowly ducking out of the way of one of the officers, Eva frantically backed away. She glanced at Cameron and Sasha, completely panicked.
“Run!!” Sasha screamed at Eva, eyes wide and desperate. “Run!”
Immediately, Eva turned on her heel and sprinted for the woods. She gasped as she nearly tripped over her own feet. Don’t screw this up, Eva, run, run run run, Sasha told me to run, She finally broke the tree-line, pushing through the greenery and brush. I have to get out of there, I have to get help, I have to run, I have-
Crack! The sound of a gun firing echoed through the forest. Eva’s world spun. Her ears rang. Surprisingly and thankfully, she didn’t feel any pain as she collapsed on the forest floor, and her vision faded to black.
- - -
“No!!” Sasha screamed, staring at the woman, her gun still raised towards the woods.
A beat of tense silence followed as Sasha listened. The only sound she could hear was the sound of birds fleeing. No Eva.
“No! No!!” Sasha screeched, struggling more than she had before. “You- you monster!!”
“Oh, shut up. Now, bring them inside,” the woman spoke to the guards, before turning her attention back to Sasha. “I believe you have a doctor’s appointment.” The woman chuckled, lowering her gun.
“I’m not going any-fucking-where, you, please, you have to let me go see her!!” Sasha squirmed, struggling against the grip of the men dragging her off, doing little to stop them as she was pulled inside the building.
Sasha would’ve admired the décor of the building if she weren’t there under these circumstances. A sculpture of modern art sat in the center of the lobby, white beams spiraling around a silver pole, about 20 feet tall. Contemporary paintings embellished the walls. The walls were white. The floors, the ceiling, all a sterile white. If it weren’t for the large windows showing the wilderness outside, the white would’ve been all consuming.
A man stood behind a counter, where a receptionist would be. The man merely glanced at Sasha as she was practically dragged through the lobby, completely ignoring her screams and shouts for help.
Sasha was pushed into an elevator, the guards following her into the cramped space, quickly restrained and stopped from trying to escape. The elevator doors opened much quicker than expected, and before she could have time to react, she was pulled from the elevator, down a short- although still intensely white- hallway. The guards opened a door at the end of the hallway and Sasha was shoved inside, the door slamming shut behind her.
This next room was such a sudden change compared to the previous ones. Sasha blinked a couple times, trying to get her eyes to adjust to the dimmer lighting.
Once her eyes did adjust, Sasha was able to take in the scenery around her. The walls were, thankfully, not white, instead a lighter grey. The floors too were not white, this time made out of wooden black walnut planks.
Adorning the walls were wooden bookshelves, hundreds of thick tomes stacked upon them. A red ornamental rug was laid out across the floor. On top of that stood an oaken desk- papers and pens strewn chaotically across it-as well as a wooden chair with metal cuffs on the arms and front legs of the chair on Sasha’s side of the desk.
On the other side of the desk sat another chair, this one much more comfortable-looking, and behind the chair stood a woman.
Already, Sasha could tell she was important, just from the way she stood. Her red hair was bound in a ponytail that spilled down her back, her face framed by flyaways and other loose strands of her hair. Her eyebrows were raised in curiosity, though there was still a harsh sternness in her gaze that came across to Sasha as threatening. Dark bags sat just below her brown eyes, and a thin white scar ran across the bridge of her nose. The woman stood at around 5’8, and she wore a white lab jacket.
“Oh, finally, you’ve arrived.” The sternness in the woman’s eyes faded, replaced by a sudden and out of place warmness as she smiled. “Take a seat, please.”
“Like hell I will!” Sasha retorted, standing her ground, though very aware of the closed door behind her; as far as she could tell, it was the only exit to this office. “Who the fuck are you, what do you want with me?!”
The woman laughed suddenly and loudly. “That’s not usually what they say. Usually, it’s something along the lines of ‘Let me go’.” She said, more to herself than anything.
“Yeah, that too, bitch.”
“That won’t do.” The woman sighed through pursed lips. “Have a seat, Sasha.”
“I won’t,” Sasha reaffirmed. “Let me go.”
The woman held up a walkie-talkie from her desk. “I’m afraid that won’t be happening,” she looked pointedly at Sasha before pressing a button on the radio. “It appears the subject is being uncooperative.”
Before Sasha could really react, the door opened from behind her and in rushed a pair of guards, grabbing her from behind.
“Hey- no, stop!” Sasha grunted as she continued to struggle against their grip. Ignoring her attempts to escape, the guards wrestled her into the chair. Sasha locked eyes with the woman, staring as the woman lifted a remote towards her, pressing a button on it. Without hesitation, the cuffs on the chairs clamped shut over Sasha’s wrists and ankles, trapping her in place.
“That will be all, thank you.” The woman told the guards, and they left without a word, the door closing behind them again.
“Now that you’re properly situated, I’ll introduce myself.” The woman sighed, setting the remote down. “I’m the doctor of this testing establishment, and you will refer to me as such.”
“I meant like a first name.” Sasha grumbled.
“That’s unfortunate.” The Doctor frowned. “Remember what happened to poor little Eva when she misbehaved?”
At this, Sasha’s expression turned livid. “She- she didn’t do anything wrong, you fucking sicko!!” She writhed and squirmed in an attempt to free herself, only succeeding in infuriating herself further.
The Doctor only sounded amused. “I’ll take that as a yes! Keep that in mind going forward. With that being said, I think it’s time we get started.”
#s a s h a a a a#i really like this chapter#i wasn't sure which direction to take this story in but#i'm really enjoying it#eva#sasha#cameron#whump#whump writing#whumblr#hospital whump#gun whump tw
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- i didnt realize that jiro had already moved on to nxt...well not "moved on" of course but hang on who the FUCK wore a critrole tshirt to 205 live. who are you. WHO ARE YOU. I HATE YOU. IM GOING TO BITE YOU
- i dont wanna watch thisss i already have never felt so indifferent to a new wrestler in my life. this guy is nothing to me and sunil is going to lose to him for no reason. i hate this...i just. i don't care how inevitably talented/whatever these new recruits are really. there's just nothing there! there's not a story there's just the wrestling which everyone marketing 205 has always mistakenly taken as it appeal. and it's just not! it's not at all. why was lince teamed with john morrison whadda hale.........where's gran my friend gran :( for that matter why isn't lhp on 205 still i miss them so so much. also riddle should still be killed
- oh do we have a 20 minute main event? where tony and ariya win which i know because i accidentally checked twitter? worm? maybe this will be something
- uhm i should say something about the new guy whos name i forgot but i dont want to. i don't like the look of him. the mma background the leopard print the demeanor it all feels Bad or at least like Something I've Seen Before That Should Be Taken As A Red Flag and maybe that is unfair but i don't care enough to form another opinion. c'est la vie as they say
- sorry i feel like i am complainier than usual which given how late i am to boot is not really great. i would say i haven't been doing well (which i haven't, in fairness, though when am i ever doing well lol) but to be honest i just really, really, REALLY have not wanted to watch. i don't know exactly why, knowing tony and ariya actually win this match should be a hook for me, but it's a combination of the bogus debut match and the...having to expend energy being excited about gold standie match. i know it doesn't seem like it but it takes me a lot of energy to watch 205, actually. it always has in a weird way. back when i took eight hours to dissect an episode which was a better time really even if i was cringe, to now when i spend even longer just trying to garner the enthusiasm to withstand a show that is just not something i expect things from anymore, that occasionally provides me a foothold regarding the only two characters i think about in depth anymore and that i pounce on in order to compensate for the lack of enthusiasm everywhere else. i am very passionate about 205. it's something i have worked hard to understand and that takes a lot out of me, which enjoying anything usually does. if i'm too excited about something, i can put off engaging with it for months, even years. if 205 wasn't weekly i probably still wouldn't have watched this episode. i just don't have the energy i guess. its...idk. i don't really know what i can do about it besides stop watching but...i don't want to do that either. i dunno :(
- "they know they can rely on each other. they know they can trust one another." feels VERY good to hear that about tony and ariya to be honest. healing <3 i like that for them and i think it's been really genuinely hard earned
- matching black gear. this is all i have wanted. thank you
- okay...okay i hate to say it but ariya's hair has been having a rough time of it lately huh! it happens to everyone...he’ll come back from this
- oh my god wait did tony's flexing taunt actually work...why did [pop punk lead singer newbie] take so long to come back from it. usually when tony does that it just pisses people off and just now tony had to like reassure him out of the corner. i know it was probably him being Too Mad To Speak (especially him mocking it just now) but it's SO funny to think of it as tony actually intimidating someone lol. i think he deserves it. i would LOVE to meet the person successfully unnerved by tony
- support <3
- so bored by this match they're talking about meiko satomura on commentary. listen who can blame them though? i think more people should talk about meiko satomura at all times. she is very cool. who ISN'T boring next to her
- that was...some not-good camera work!!! what else to be expected from the ole double yew double yew
- ARIYA SETTING UP POP PUNK FOR THE MOONSAULT WITH THE KICK TO THE HEAD!!!!!!!!! LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOO THAT RULED. TAG TEAM MOVES
- AWH there's a nice culmination of the last two weeks! tony almost taps and ariya saves him. tony is a lot more willing to tap out than ariya is, quicker to preserve his health, and this time that moment of almost surrendering is used to put him in a worse spot. ariya sees tony about to get fucked over and jumps in. i don't know how to word it entirely, but there's just that sense that they look out for each other! even if tony was going to tap, the only person to take it out on is the person putting him in that position. tony never has to tap if ariya's there to save him. that works out just fine. they care about each other a lot. if you ask me. just my opinion. :) smile
- they're doing more tag team moves teehee ^_^ also that uranage to backstabber RULES that's SO fucking brutal!!!!!!!! no one is surviving that!!!!!!!! gold standard tag team champions NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
- ariya's sell of that kick to the head. he's noodle
- tony save awiya...................
- who am i to deny that that springboard move was cool. i'm only human
- TONY SAVE ARIYA..................TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!
- ARIYA AND TONY WIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
- i LOVE seeing them develop new tag team moves and i LOVE seeing them point and laugh whenever they beat someone. mischief! mischief and rudeness! i love them. i care gold standard
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Tears of an Angel (Crowley/Aziraphale)
Right... so I saw this beautiful, heartrending artwork post and... I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t think I could ever do this, but... I’m sorry. I am truly sorry.
Warning: Major Character Death
Tagging: @tonystark5ever @giulisetta @swanheart69
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Adam’s wedding day is beautiful – a gorgeous, sun-stroked jewel of late summer, imbued with an intoxicating scent of honeysuckle and freshly cut grass. Not a hint of clouds in the brilliant blue sky that smiles down at the happy mingle of guests: some chatting amicably with those around them, others indulging, somewhat furtively but with obvious pleasure, in the impressive spread of refreshments heaped onto the white-clothed tables, others still swaying blissfully to the soft, enchanting sounds of music.
It’s perfect. And Crowley wouldn’t have expected it to be anything but. Adam, after all, is still, to this day, the Spawn of Satan, whom he so bravely, so brilliantly rejected all those years ago. And that means, reality is very much still his to change the way he pleases.
Crowley can’t find it in himself to complain.
He leans casually back against the side of a gazebo, arms crossed on his chest. Smiles fondly as he watches Anathema drag Aziraphale out into the dancing area, the angel shooting a pleading look Crowley’s way before submitting to the inevitable with a resigned huff, hurriedly shoving the remainder of a strawberry tart into his mouth.
Oh, angel…
“Interesting setup you got here.”
He straightens out instantly, all sense of leisure gone from his posture, tension bleeding from every line of his body.
“What do you want, Hastur?”
“I’ve been watching you two,” the demon drawls out ominously from behind him – an oppressive, dangerous presence just off to the side, just out of his line of sight. And Crowley fights the urge to turn around; suppresses the frisson of unease the demon’s presence sends down his spine.
“What do you want?” he repeats in a growl of forced annoyance, even as his metaphorical heart clenches in mounting fear. Hastur’s been watching them. All these years. Does it mean he figured out their swap? Does it mean he knows?
“I know you tricked us,” Hastur answers his unspoken question, a note of smug satisfaction in his voice telling Crowley the demon noticed his panic despite Crowley’s best efforts. “I don’t know how you did it, but…” There’s an ugly bark of laughter – like a crack of a dry twig underfoot, followed by rustle of clothes and an overwhelmingly strong presence, dark, magical. “I don’t really care.”
And Crowley can’t help turning around now. Can’t help looking down at Hastur’s gloved hand, at the wicked-looking knife held cautiously in its grip. Can’t help the nasty, cold feeling that claws at his chest when he sees the flame-red sigils carved into the darkened blade.
“Oh, good, you recognize it.” Hastur’s smiling at him now – a dark, sadistically gleeful grin. Turns the blade in his hand in a mockery of awed contemplation. “A hellfire-forged blade with holy sigils – a perfect weapon against any being, ethereal or demonic.” Growls out low, his upper lip curling in predatory anticipation, “Heaven and Hell will be happy to see both of you gone. Me personally? After watching the two of you for a bit? I think killing just one of you will make for a far better torture.” He waves his free hand in the air, a look of almost blissful dreaminess spreading across his face.
Crowley grinds his teeth together in helpless rage, glances back out to where his angel is fumbling dreadfully across from Anathema in a poor imitation of dancing, blissfully unaware of the danger lurking only a few feet away. Flinches when he feels Hastur shift closer.
“I’m feeling generous today, Serpent,” he murmurs, the smell of swamp and rot wafting over the side of Crowley’s face. “I’m gonna let you choose.”
Choose. A bitter smile twitches at the corners of Crowley’s lips, his eyes never leaving the achingly dear white-haired form in a cream color jacket. What is there to choose, really? His choice has been made over 6000 years ago, standing on that wall in the Garden of Eden next to a beautiful, mystifying angel who gave away his sword to protect humans and then proceeded to shield a demon from the First Rain.
He doesn’t even have to think about it.
“Me,” he states calmly, ignoring the sharp pang in his heart at the thought that this is it for him, that he will never see his angel again. “Take me.” Turns briefly back to his unwelcome companion to glare murderously into the bottomless dark pools of his eyes. “But thisss isss it, Hastur,” he hisses, low and menacing, putting all of his venom, all of his demonic, serpentine conviction into the words. “After thisss our debt isss paid in full. Nobody touches the angel, understood? Not your lot, not the Heaven. And you will make sure of that.” He leans in closer, eyes bleeding a terrifyingly hypnotic, poisonous yellow. “You will make sure of that, Hasssstur, or I swear on all that is unholy, that I will find a way to come back, and I will make you wish you were the first one through my office door that day instead of Ligur.” He lets his upper lip curl, lets his fangs slide out in warning. “Undersssstood?”
Hastur’s lips twist in an echoing snarl, but Crowley can see the minute perturbation on the other demon’s face, knows his threat (bluff, yes, but Hastur has no way of knowing that) has hit its mark.
“Meet me in the cemetery behind the church,” the Duke of Hell spits out, nodding blindly in the direction of the small village church that hosted the wedding ceremony a mere hour ago. And disappears in a cloud of thick gray smoke.
Crowley remains where he is a moment longer. Lets his gaze linger on Aziraphale for one last time, drinking in the sight of his dancing angel – so blessedly carefree, so endearingly clumsy, so unfailingly good, so… so… beautiful. He sighs, smiling despite the traitorous, anguished tremble of his lips. Closes his eyes, letting that final image of Aziraphale become engrained in his memory. And follows Hastur to his doom.
He doesn’t see Aziraphale turning to glance in his direction an instant before he disappears from view.
***
He reappears but a moment later in the place of Hastur’s choosing. Stumbles a bit on the uneven surface of a freshly laid grave.
And gasps, his breath choked off and stolen, as sharp pain explodes below his ribcage, doubling him over with the force of the blow. A wave of power rushes through him – angelic and demonic, woven together to create a monumental, monstrous hybrid of destruction. Cold and fiery, deadly and unstoppable, sluicing through his veins to tear him apart, piece by piece by piece.
He reaches forward on instinct, grabbing blindly, convulsively for the support of the putrid smelling shape that materializes in front of him. Groans pathetically as Hastur shoves the blade deeper with a hard, vicious thrust. And shudders, his fingers unclasping, nerveless, from the demon’s sleeve, as Hastur yanks the blade out and steps quickly back out of reach.
“We are even now,” Hastur observes dispassionately as Crowley sinks to his knees before him onto the clumpy ground, one hand pressed uselessly against the bleeding gaping hole in his chest, the other seeking purchase in the loose dirt. Cringes with sympathetic fear as Crowley draws in another harsh, labored wheeze of a breath, face twisting at the ever-mounting pain.
“It was quicker for Ligur,” he notes darkly, sheathing the blade and putting it away into the folds of his coat. “Merciful almost, compared to yours.”
His cheek twitches minutely, a fire of grim satisfaction flashing in the black depths. Then, suddenly, he squats down before the injured demon, stares unblinking into the wide, pain-glazed eyes.
“But perhaps you can be thankful for a chance to say goodbye.” He cants his head to the side, nodding at something in the distance.
Blearily, Crowley follows his motion, and the cold that fills his chest no longer has anything to do with his impending death. Because there, weaving his way toward them between the maze of tombstones, is the angel, his angel.
No.
He grasps for Hastur’s coat again, gritting his teeth at the fresh flare of pain that rips through him at the unsanctioned movement.
“Your promisssse… re… remember your…,” his voice cuts out, his throat spasming from a sudden buildup of pressure that drowns the rest of his words in a vicious gurgle of a cough that spills forth in a spectacular spray of blood.
He gasps, breathless, against the intensity of it. Squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, missing the grimace of disgust that flits across Hastur’s face as the demon raises his hand to vanish the bloody splatter that carried from his former colleague to settle on his face and clothes.
“I have not forgotten, Serpent,” he grouches, extricating himself once again from Crowley’s feeble grip. Straightens back out, making a show of dusting off his forever-filthy coat. His cheek twitches again – a tell of discomfort, as he forces out the parting words of (questionable) reassurance. “Have a nice… death.”
A snap of fingers and the Duke of Hell vanishes from sight, and then the angel is there, kneeling on the ground before Crowley, hands pawing frantically at the darkened, bleeding hole in the middle of his chest; grasping Crowley’s shoulders as he sways alarmingly on his gradually weakening knees.
Crowley tries to steady himself, tries to look strong for his angel, but the devastating power ravaging his essence has already done too much damage, and he can’t help but succumb, slumping forward into Aziraphale’s chest with a helpless groan.
“Crowley?”
The angel’s voice trembles, tinged with desperation and fear, and Crowley can feel the same anxious tremble in the arms that wrap themselves around him; can hear the panicked beat of the angel’s heart. This will not do, he thinks, sluggish. He can’t leave his angel like this – so desperate, so panicked. He has to–
“I can’t… I can’t heal it. What…. Crowley, darling, please, what’s–?”
“Shhhhh….” He forces his head up, forces his weakened hand to move. Presses a shaking finger to the beautiful plump lips that he has been so fortunate, so privileged to taste in these past few years. How incredibly, insanely lucky he was!
“Shhh,” he repeats, running careful, gentle fingers across the angel’s cheek, wiping away a streak of golden tears that trails down the soft pale skin. Frowns when fresh tears begin to trickle down the same track. This isn’t right, he thinks. Aziraphale shouldn’t be… he can’t…
“Don’t cry,” he pleads, voice raspy and shaking with pain that is becoming harder and harder to conceal. But he will try. He has to try. For his angel. “S’okay… Zira… sss’okay. I cho…chose this… My choicssssse…”
Tear-filled blue eyes widen in understanding, the angel glancing briefly at a spot where Hastur stood only moments ago, before shifting his grief-stricken, horrified gaze back to Crowley.
“No…,” he whines, tears falling harder now, as his arms tighten around Crowley’s shivering form in mounting despair. “No, Crowley… Crowley, you can’t….”
Crowley blinks at him fondly, a faint smile pulling at his blood-stained lips. “S’okay,” he exhales, fighting to speak against the gradually thickening blanket of darkness that begins to weigh down on him, threatening to pull him under. He can’t let it happen. Not yet. He needs to get the angel to understand, needs to explain. He knows that, once he surrenders to that darkness, he won’t get another chance.
“I had to… They won’t… won’t bother you now. Not any…anymore.”
It’s important that Aziraphale knows this. Because it’s something that’s been bothering the both of them all these years – the fear that Heaven or Hell or both will be coming for them any moment. It dampened the serenity, the pleasure of that short time they spent together, forcing them to constantly look over their shoulders. But no more, no more…
What little strength he has left to keep himself upright runs out and he sags, boneless, in Aziraphale’s feverish embrace, their foreheads touching.
Aziraphale is saying something, the angel’s breath hot and suspiciously wet against his skin, but Crowley can’t hear him, not anymore – the darkness pulling at him, engulfing his senses.
“Kiss me,” he asks instead – a barely there whisper.
He can hardly feel his arms anymore, but he manages somehow to raise one, to hook it feebly around the back of Aziraphale’s neck, smearing blood onto the white curls. Tugs, trying to urge the angel closer.
There’s barely any discernible pressure behind his gesture, but Aziraphale follows it nevertheless. Surges forward with a choked off sob, closing the already negligible gap between their mouths, latching on to Crowley’s lips as a man wandering for days in the sweltering heat of the desert latches on to the refreshing watery escape of an oasis.
The fear of loss, the desperate denial, the frantic need to hold on, and the love – overwhelming, all-encompassing, unfaltering love: Crowley reads it all on the trembling, tear-stained lips that cling to his own. It’s warm, the angel’s kiss. So beautifully warm against the numbing, agonizing cold that fills his entire being.
He closes his eyes, sinks deeper into the kiss, trying to capture as much of that warmth as he can, to bask in his angel’s essence before darkness pulls him away for good.
It isn’t long now, he can feel it. Can feel himself falling, breaking will-lessly away from the soft anchor of Aziraphale’s lips – the warm light of his angel’s presence growing dimmer and dimmer, until only a tiny spark remains in the thick, stifling darkness that swathes his mind.
He latches on to it, weakly, stubbornly. Peels his eyes open, unsurprised to find the angel leaning over him, his face – a pale, haloed blur for his failing sight. But even now, faded almost beyond recognition, he’s still the most beautiful thing Crowley has ever seen.
He tells him so. Releases the truth of it on the final exhale his corporation’s lungs allow him. Along with a faint susurrant confession, “Love you… angel…”
A soft, wet splatter of a warm, golden tear on his ice-cold cheek is the last thing he feels.
FIN
#good omens#good omens fic#crowley/aziraphale#crowley#aziraphale#hastur#character death#tragedy#angst#hurt#i broke them#i didn't mean to#somethingjustsouthofbrilliance writes#sjsob good omens fics
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Prepared?
Steven couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down his eyes. He arrived too late. Too late to protect her...Thank goodness for Garnet, future vision and Lion. She would've be in worse shape than she currently is without them. Still, torn clothing, the bruised and sliced cheek and eye, the bloody and burnt gashes on her torso, inner thighs and chest, smaller ones littered all over her body, her left arm cauterized from the shoulder and her haggard breathing. It was too much to take in.
Still he allowed some pride to seep in. By the time he and the gems appeared at her now trashed campsite, there were a number of mutant fusions gems poofed at her feet and ready to be bubbled. As for Connie, she stood ready to fight..to defend the camp. Never dropping her shaking blade, even greeted them with a pain-filled and tear stricken yet brilliant smile.
He already knew what she was going to say but he quickly and gently silenced her. There was no way in hell he was going to let her apologize and beat herself up for defending the lives here, successfully at that.. His main objective was three fold. Get Connie to the fountain for recovery. find who or whatever did this. Make sure they can’t do it anymore.
“ How many are left?” Steven urgency in his voice made his question almost come off as a command. Connie didn’t take no offense though, she can imagine how much it pained him to see one of his loved ones in her currfent condition
“Just one...they’re smart” Her voice started to break up with her facade of strength. She coughed harshly, overwhelmed with sadness and disgust before she started to sobbed “ They killed three councillors, sent the smaller and lesser ones to overcome them, swarm them and tear them like animals.” She coughed up a bit of blood and dropped to her knees still sobbing.
Seeing her breakdown like this fueled him with an unknown rage, he looked at the gems and non-verbally told them to find the gem. As soon as they left searching in different direction lion heard a shuffling in the trees. Getting on in front of his master and mistress, the mighty beast released a supersonic roar, clearing quite a piece of land bear and creating bit of a dirt cloud..
A quiet ‘fwwth!” was heard from said cloud as a red hot spike flew towards the trio. Before Steven could respond, Connie with her last bit of strength knocked it back toward which it came, before collapsing out of fatigue,and pain. Steven lifted Connie up onto Lion gently. She tried to refuse stating she could help still, which brought a small smile to his face. Her spirit was his inspiration even now.
“Get her to the fountain now.”
Lion didn’t need any coaxing as he opened up the portal and leaped through. He watched them go before balling up his fist, his eyes cold as ice and harder than any diamond. He turned to see the creature walking from the cloud, a stalker smile on its face...
Thin and jagged mass, about the size of garnet, looked like a green, red and purple polygon humanoid with two legs and arms. It’s gem was a surprisingly perfect oval but was damaged with a noticeable crack. From what he could tell it had one rectangular eye, a perfectly formed nose and a mouth. It had claws in sets of three with blood on them and piece of Connie’s camp uniform in its ‘right hand’. A set of two talons on each ‘foot’
“Any other time I might have thought you were cool looking, like a boss from a game.” Steven taunted, as he stood waiting.
“Thisss isss no a game diamond bearer. Thisss isss a hunt and you just took my candidate for assimilating and population.”
Steven was a little put off by the fact that this mutant can talk, didn’t help that its voice sounded like it was slithering..but neither of that matter..No, what matter was this thing attacked his Connie...with intent to use her for 'population'?... Steven was sure he heard wrong.
“What do you mean..?”
The mutant smirked before speaking. “It assss I sssworned, to bring ssstrong humans and gemssss to populate usss through assimilation and artificial breeding. But now none of it matters since your here..Her time will come, regardlesssss.”
As the thing was speaking he saw the gems heading back and gave them a look to stand down for now.
”You swore huh..Means there someone in control and you’re a soldier” .Steven smirked abit. “ And you guys know about us? Me, Connie, the Crystal gems and such?”
The thing smiled as it claws started to burn red hot “What of it Diamond bearer?”
The mutant charged forward claws ready to burn the young hybrid in half only to stop mid run; feeling an extremely uncomfortable, drill-like sensation through its body before being blown back a few feet and onto the ground. The mutant looked up and saw Steven walking towards it, his hands encased with bubbles with spinning spikes. It was literally it only thing it could do, it’s gem cracked to a near shattering, from Steven’s blow..it couldn’t even close it’s drill wounds..
“You know, if your boss or whoever knows about us..then there is no need to keep you around...So Ms.jagged.” His cold tone dropped even lower and in his eyes shined with malice as he stood over the now horrified gem. “For harming innocent humans..For killing innocent humans”
Steven lifted his fist, the spin on the spike getting faster and faster creating sparks of energy. “FOR HAVING THE AUDACITY TO EVEN THINK OF ATTACKING MY CONNIE! YOU’RE PREPARED FOR WHATS NEXT, RIGHT!?”
The mutant couldn’t respond, the roar of Steven scaring it straight to it’s very essence mustering what little energy it had it spoke lightly. “n-GUUUUUUUAAAAAHHGHGGGHGAAAhhhhh!”
Steven spinning fist interrupted the response, turning it to horrifying gurgled scream as the drills burned, twisted, ripped, and chewed the mouth of the hard light construct. Steven didn’t stop there,The rectangular eye was next, it’s nose after that, it’s limbs followed then he just started to wail on it. Each strike more nightmarish than the last, the scraping and sawing sounds, the mutants gargled attempts at screaming and Steven unrelenting stare as he worked.
It lasted all but 45 seconds before the monster finally poofed. He looked at the gem and was so tempted to shatter, but it did had information he reasoned and decided to bubble it without healing it. Sending it back to the temple with the others.
The crystal gems while cautious walked up to him, Pearl was the first to speak.
“Steven, are you-
“NO!”
His rage was still there but subsided when he realized it was Pearl. He looked forlorn and broken “ I’m sorry for that..Just, I’m not gonna be ok, not to until I see Connie is back on her feet.”
Pearl gave him a reassuring smile “Steven, we understand. No one gonna fault your actions or your emotions.”
Steven looked around and saw that they were all in agreement with Pearl; he gave them a small smile in return “I appreciate that…”
“Steven”
The boy turned to pearl as she presented the corpses of the brave councillors who fought with Connie, two women and a man. They wore torn, scarred and missing pieces of meat but they would be ok. Steven smirked to himself as the tears started to run. It took only a few minutes for the corpses to turn pink, missing parts grown back and was waking up like it was all a dream.
It was at this time that Lion decided to return. Steven didn’t hesitate to get the beast to bring him to the fountain, leaving the gems to explain what happened...Not before thanking the councilors for their part in the battle either.
Steven arrived at the fountain and quickly ran towards his berry, who was relaxing neck deep in the pond back facing toward him. Before the teenager could even register what was happening, Steven was holding her in most secure and loving hold she ever received.
She was a bit nervous and embarrassed due to being in only her sporty undergarments and having scars from the recent healing.
That was until she felt the trembling, heard the apologetic and thankful whispering and felt his tears running down her face. It was too much not hold him back with BOTH her healed right arm and new PINK left arm and do the same.
“I almost lost you.”
“I’m here because of you.”
His grip tightened around her frame. “You could have died.”
“I know...i’m sorry.”
“You were so valorous”
She rubbed his back and gently ran her hands through his hair. “ I tried. I couldn’t let them down. Couldn’t let you down.”
“You never do. Why didn’t you call us?”
“You just had a crisis with Spinel. I wanted you to rest...Didn’t expect it to go south that bad. That and I really couldn’t anyway, they targeted communication.”
He moved his face to her shoulder, lips brushing her skin as he spoke. “I am getting you a communicator and a tracker, so i can always find you.”
Connie giggled in spite of her tears “Deal...I was so scared Steven.”
“Hard to tell with how fearless you seemed..You definitely cleaned up house, Berry.”
“They weren’t hard. Though they did get some licks off..Fast buggers. Is the camp OK? “
Steven kissed the top of her forehead, hearing the worry in her voice “ Yes, a little trashed but everyone is alive...though I had to resurrect the three who helped you.”
“Damn it.”
Steven could feel her shaking as her tears ran down. “They’re alive, not in the best of ways but they are alive..”
Connie could only nod to Stevens voice. It was better than nothing. ” I got a new arm, It seems."
“I see, it’s fluorescent and a bit illuminating. ”
“That it is...It feels..off and not-off. If you can understand where I’m going with this..”
“Nope..We’ll discover you new limb together. It fits you though.”
Connie chuckled before giving his temple a small kiss.“Yeah.."
“I...Went off on that gem mutant. Think I’ve might have gave the gems. nightmares.”
"It might have given every camper and counselor nightmares and traumas.”
“I’ll guard your dreams, Nini. Just say the word.”
“We’ll guard each other, both in the dream and in the waking world.. I refuse you to lose sleep over me.”
“I already do..Though it’s usually over things like about how much I adore you.”
“Sssttteven..that’s not fair saying something like that now “ Connie hid her face in his shoulder so he couldn’t see her heated face. Ignoring the feeling that she was now pressing upon him in her current state of undress.
Steven just held her tighter picking her up slightly as he did, basking in her touch, sound and smell. “ I love you Connie. And happy you’re alive to hear me say it So you better be prepared for me telling you everyday from now on..”
She lifted her head up off his shoulder and looked him adoringly before giving sweet and tender kiss which he returned. She placed her forehead to his, smiling that ever brilliant smile of hers. "I’m happy I can hear it.. I love you too Biscuit. You better prepare yourself because I love as hard as I fight. ”
“As do I Connie, as do I.”
#connverse#long reads#light angst#lifetime friends#dismemberment#battle damage#wounded heroine#connverse fanfic#steven and connie#can't keep a good woman down#angst with a happy ending#please read and review#please read and reblog#please critique#after movie#pink armed connie#original character#older steven#steven universe fanfiction#steven universe au#pearl#crystal gems#one woman army#healing#Steven gets angry.#cool and dry anger#black fanfiction writers#i'm also on ao3#please read review and reblog#connie maheswaran
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Spooky Halloween - A Good Omens Fanfiction
in which the line between the real world and the supernatural gets a little thinner
and the ineffables deal with it as well as they can
--
Everyone who knew Crowley’s true nature - these days, this included the Them, and a select few adults - assumed that Halloween would be prime time for the demon. It was, after all, the eve of the spirits, when the physical world pulled in closest with the supernatural, and the borders between the two broke down. It was the day when spooky was loved and celebrated, and surely Crowley would be all about that, wouldn’t he?
It was why Anathema was struggling particularly hard with Crowley’s outright refusal to show up at Adam’s Halloween party. “Come on, Crowley, you have to be kidding, what do you mean you don’t go out on Halloween?”
“I don’t,” he replied firmly. In the background, she could hear something that sounded suspiciously like plants being ripped out of the ground. “Stay in all day. 24 hours.”
“But it’s spooky. You love spooky.”
“Yes, but you know there is such a thing as too much of a good thing.”
“Oh?” She thought it over. “Like, too reminiscent of Hell, because I could convince him to tone down the decorations.”
“No, not that.” She heard him huff, and there came the sound of a body flopping into the grass. She had trouble not smiling, imaging the demon sprawled out on the lawn of the cottage, because she knew him and knew that was precisely what he was doing. “Me.”
“What about you?”
He groaned. “You can be really thick sometimes, you know it, Book-Girl?” She bristled, almost snapped a reply, but he had plowed on. “The boundaries between the human world and the supernatural are blurred. My corporation can only keep it together so well when that border breaks down.”
“Oh.”
“I mean, Aziraphale’s too,” he added, as an afterthought. “But he just gets sort of gimpy on that leg and has some extra eyeballs. He could - and he has - pass it off as a costume if he really needed to. Whereas me, well …” He sighed. “If I don’t just go serpent altogether I can hold a vaguely-human shape but it sort of stretches the limits of credibility to say it’s a costume or makeup or what have you.”
“Ah. Sorry I, uh, didn’t think of it that way. I think I understand now.” And she did. Crowley made some kind of non-specific noise on the other end of the line, and she went on, “Seriously, sorry.”
“Eh, don’t be. Natural assumption, really. And I have gone out on Halloween,” he added, “but because I needed to do some proper demon things. The scales and the horns really do help.”
She tried to imagine Crowley looking anything like a proper demon, and failed miserably. “I can imagine,” she said anyway. “Well, alright. I’ll tell the Them … something. Say you’re not feeling well or something.”
“Just tell them the truth. Adam’s the Antichrist, I hardly think demons doing demon things is going to be a shocking revelation.”
“Well, no, but I think if I tell them you’re spending the day cooped up because you look properly scary for once they’ll be even more disappointed you didn’t put in an appearance. You know how they are.”
“True.” He sighed. “That’s fine then, tell them whatever. And, ah, enjoy the party.”
“You’ll be alright by the weekend? I was thinking that new movie about the possessed priest -”
“Oh, yeah. Like I said, twenty-four hours, back to normal. Mostly. Might be a bit of ash around the fingertips but I’ll definitely be fine by Saturday.”
“Good,” she said, like they were discussing a brewing cold or sore throat, and not Crowley becoming an eldritch horror for a short period of time. “Alright, well, uh, good luck I guess. Hope it’s not too bad.”
“It’ll be awful, but thanks all the same.”
--
It always started at the stroke of midnight. Crowley and Aziraphale waited for it, knew it was coming, and took up stations where they would both be most comfortable. Aziraphale settled in n the library, books stacked high and at the ready, and an old but serviceable cane leaned up against the side table. Crowley carefully spread a few cheap old blankets over the couch and placed the iPad and his phone in easy reach. Preemptively, they both let their wings out, and Aziraphale took the time to rub some of the ache out of Crowley’s bad wing while his hands were still unfettered by eyeballs.
“We really have to look into fixing this,” he murmured, working the stiff joint of the wrist a little looser and ignoring the way it cracked, bones grinding arthritically. Crowley made a little noise of appreciation. “Even just the joint - I don’t know how we could get the feathers to grow back, but if we could get this wrist less contracted -”
“Can’t be done.” Crowley sighed, and Aziraphale let the wing go, the better to allow the demon to slump sideways into his chest. “Would’ve done it if I could.”
“I know that, dear boy.” He ran his hands down the leading edge of the wing, following the warped bone into Crowley’s shoulder and rubbing the muscle where the limb attached. Crowley sighed again, happily this time. “But I’ve never helped you look for a solution before.”
“S’pose not. Still don’t think there’s much to do about it, though. I mean, short of getting God or Raphael to fix it.” He snorted. “And fat chance of that.”
“I’ll have a look anyway. Perhaps - oh.”
The clock on the buffet chimed. One, two, three, all the way to midnight. Crowley groaned. “Here we go.”
It wasn’t a painful transformation, but both had scars from the Great War, and the aftereffects weren’t enjoyable. When all was said and done, Aziraphale was leaned back into the couch, massaging his right thigh, and Crowley was carefully extricating himself from the angel’s lap, mindful of the ash raining from his form and Aziraphale’s newly-visible multitude of eyes. Cautious of the eye now in his palm, Aziraphale grabbed the tip of Crowley’s broken halo - horns, now - and guided it away from his wing. “Careful.”
“Sorry.” They exchanged a look. Exasperated, frustrated, but most of all, tired. It wasn’t a terrible trade-off, one day each year, but neither particularly enjoyed the in-between form that Halloween forced, and it had grown old over the years. “I hate this.”
“Me too.” Aziraphale sighed, and closed most of his eyes, although a few along his wings stayed open. “Twenty-four hours.”
“Ugh.” Crowley made a vague gesture, head leaned back over the sofa, eyes closed. “Don’t even feel like doing anything.”
“Take a nap?” Aziraphale suggested. He stood, hobbling from the couch to the chair, and picked a book from the top of the pile. “I’ll be reading.”
“Mm. What book?”
“Oh? Ah.” He didn’t bother to close it again, and instead blinked open the eye on his palm to read the cover. “It’s contemporary.” This was said with the same tone as he might have informed Crowley of a particularly insistent customer in the shop. “But I suppose it was well-reviewed. It’s a signed first edition.” Crowley made an interested little noise. “‘The Da Vinci Code’ by a Dan Brown. Supposedly has a good deal of Bible lore.”
“Haven’t you read that?” The demon looked up, grinning, and Aziraphale didn’t mind the fangs. “C’mon, you can’t have missed that.”
“I didn’t. I’m just getting to it now. Have you read it?”
“Nah. Downloaded it ages ago but then everything happened with the kids and I forgot about it. Meant to, though.”
Aziraphale raised his eyebrows. “I could read aloud, if you’d like. Good a way to spend the next 24 hours as any.”
Crowley hummed. “Can’t say I disagree. If you’re going to read, though, ah, and I don’t need hands -”
“Of course, dear.” There was a relieved hiss, and after a few seconds an enormous black winged snake was draped over the couch, coils heaped on coils to fit on the now-sagging piece of furniture. Leisurely, Crowley slithered forward, off the arm of the couch and across the empty space between there and Aziraphale’s chair. “Come around,” he encouraged, while Crowley draped the front length of himself around Aziraphale’s shoulders, until the tip of his snout was tucked under the angel’s chin, and the length of himself with his wings was resting on the floor, wings splayed out lazily. “Comfortable?”
“Yesss. You?”
“Budge off my right shoulder a bit, there’s a love. Right.” He turned from the title page, and started to read: “Fact: The Priory of Scion - a European secret society founded in 1099 - is a real organization.” He stopped. Frowned.
“Wasss it? Don’t remember that one,” asked the Serpent of Eden.
“I’m fairly certain it was not,” replied the angel of the Eastern Gate. He read on, expression growing more disapproving by the word. “In 1975 Paris's Bibliotheque Nationale discovered parchments known as Les Dossiers Secrets, identifying numerous members of the Priory of Sion, including Sir Isaac Newton, Botticelli, Victor Hugo, and Leonardo da Vinci.’ Well, that’s utter tosh. Who published this pulp?”
Crowley’s forked tongue flicked the tip of his nose, and Aziraphale heard a hissing sort of laugh. “Who caressss? Go on, I want to hear thisss.”
All in all, it was not a bad way to spend 24 hours. By the midway point of chapter one, Aziraphale was so bent out of shape about the inaccuracies that he all but forgot about the ache in his leg, or that Crowley dribbled a little ash onto the rug every time he laughed. At some point, cocoa appeared, and Aziraphale pretended not to notice as Crowley sipped at it, even though the sheer size of his snout made stealth a bit difficult, considering the gentle thunk he made every time he shoved his nose into the cup. The reading went a bit slow, too, considering they had to stop roughly every five paragraphs to criticise something, or point out some inaccuracy, but the interludes were mutually enjoyable, and neither found they minded.
Ordinarily, Aziraphale would have been able to read a book of that length within 24 hours. It was the reason for the other books settled within easy reach, after all. But when the clock again chimed midnight, and the eyes faded back into the ether, Aziraphale just paused, marked his place with a finger between the pages, and took a sip of fresh, warm tea. “Well, there we are. Another Halloween.”
“Yeah.” Crowley stretched his newly-returned limbs - wings included, he was loath to put them away yet if he didn’t need to, it felt so good to let them breathe now and then - and flopped back onto the couch. “Not the worst I’ve had. Possibly top ten best, actually.”
“This book is dreadful.”
The demon patted the sofa next to him. “Well, yeah, but in a good way. C’mere, I gotta know what happens.” Aziraphale grumbled a little but he obliged, moving over to the couch once again with his usual gait, although he too left his wings out, albeit without the eyes. He settled, and Crowley slouched up against him, a tumbler of scotch suddenly in his hand. “You think they find the Grail?”
“I rather hope not, honestly.” Aziraphale scowled. “It’d be a real shame if he butchered that as well.”
“You know there’s a prequel?”
“No.”
“Honest truth. Called Angels and Demons.” Crowley waved his free hand. “Whole series, actually. Never read any of them.” He raised an eyebrow. “Might be fun?”
“You have a strange definition of fun, Crowley.” Absently, he kissed the top of Crowley’s head, ignoring the way the demon’s hair tickled his face. “Comes with being a demon, I suppose.”
“Comes with having a sense of humor. We should read them.”
“No.”
“Well not right now. Later.” He gestured vaguely. “After I get the garden cleaned up for the winter, maybe.”
“Hm. I’ll have time to read a few palate-cleansers.”
“There’s the spirit.” He snuggled in closer, right wing wrapped around Aziraphale’s shoulders and the left covering himself like some kind of massive feathery blanket. “Go on, let’s see if they get the Grail.”
Aziraphale sighed, defeated and resigned, although Crowley could see the tiny movement well enough to note the little twitch at the corner of the angel’s mouth, almost a smile. “Very well.”
He turned the page, and kept on reading.
#good omens#good omens fanfiction#good omens fanfic#crowley#aziraphale#the da vinci code#spooky eldritch angels and demons#dont let the text fool you#i unabashedly love the da vinci code#i wish i didn't enjoy fanfiction so much
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The Demon’s Dilemma
Also on AO3. ;)
Crowley knew that something wasn’t right the moment he opened the door to his flat. It wasn’t the fact that it was unlocked. He never bothered to lock it in the first place. No one would ever try to rob him – and if they did, well, Crowley wouldn’t be the one to suffer the consequences, right?
No, the problem was the… the overwhelming feeling of love he felt in the air. Contrary to Aziraphale’s belief, Crowley was able to feel it. Sometimes. He was able to feel Aziraphale’s love, at least. That was how he knew the angel was in his flat, doing things he definitely shouldn’t be doing.
Crowley closed the door behind himself silently and sneaked his way through his own flat. He didn’t want the angel to hear him. Not before he was sure what was going on.
(He was sure, but he needed to catch the angel red-handed. Or green-handed. Whatever.)
Then he finally heard Aziraphale’s voice. He didn’t bother wondering why the angel was in his flat in the first place. After the Apocalypse-that-wasn’t, Aziraphale had started to come to Crowley’s place whenever he pleased. Crowley didn’t complain. It was nice to have his angel around. But he never suspected the angel might betray him like this.
“Oh, look at you, you beauty,” he heard Aziraphale say. “So gorgeous. Would you like more water?”
More water?! Crowley gritted his teeth. Seriously? It was even worse than he’d thought!
“You like it, don’t you?” Aziraphale’s voice continued. “And you? You are lovely, all of you. Oh, my darling, is that a spot? No, no, don’t be scared. We’ll sort it out in a second...”
And that was all that Crowley needed to hear.
He pushed open the only door that separated him from Aziraphale (and the plants the angel was currently spoiling rotten). He tried to look scary and dangerous, but he had a feeling he was failing spectacularly.
“Hello, angel,” he growled, because that was probably the only thing he could do to keep at least a little bit of respect. “Care to explain what in S...omebody’s name are you doing with my plants?”
No matter how edgy Crowley wanted to look, the angel still positively beamed when he saw him. Crowley fought really hard not to smile back at him, no matter how much he wanted to.
“Crowley,” Aziraphale said. “My dear boy, I’m so sorry. I thought you would be at home, but you weren’t, and then I saw these poor darlings and I thought I’d take care of them for you… They were incredibly thirsty, did you know? You really should water them more often, Crowley, I mean-”
“Yeah, well, thanks for your opinion, Aziraphale,” Crowley growled (once again, still hell-bent on keeping his cool facade). “But they’re thirsty for a reason, you see? Limited water rations make them appreciate the water they do get, and that in turn makes them grow better. Is that right, guys?” he said, addressing his plants.
They started to shake immediately.
“Crowley,” Aziraphale said, his voice full of disapproval. “Are you making them scared of you on purpose?”
“Maybe?” Crowley shrugged, taking a plant mister from Aziraphale’s surprised hand. “So what? It works.”
“Of course that it does. But kindness and water would work even better.”
“Sorry, angel, but I disagree,” Crowley growled and glowered at the smallest plant in the room, the one that was pretty new and still didn’t understand all the rules properly. “They must know that when they don’t behave like good plants should, they’ll end up in the garbage disposal.”
“Garbage disposal?” Aziraphale smirked. He had the audacity to sound amused. “My dear boy. You’ve been bringing the plants that don’t behave like good plants should to me for years.”
Crowley was very thankful for his sunglasses. That way the plants (and the angel) couldn’t see that his eyes nearly popped out of his head.
“And you’re killing them off. He’s killing them off, you hear me?” he said, addressing the plants, but their trembling was already starting to lessen. “He kills them even more brutally than the garbage disposal ever could!”
It didn’t look like the plants believed him.
Especially when Aziraphale gave him a mischievous smile, the bastard.
“Oh, no, my dear. I’m giving them to the lovely old lady next door. She is very kind to them. Waters them whenever they want to. Tells them how beautiful they are. She has a special room dedicated to the plants, would you believe that?”
The plants had stopped shaking completely and now just stood there, listening to the conversation. It wasn’t as if they could just get up and leave.
“Aziraphale,” Crowley growled, taking off his sunglasses. “You’re gonna pay for thisss.”
The angel, completely undisturbed by Crowley’s snake eyes, raised his hand and gently stroked a leaf of the small plant Crowley really should have got rid of weeks ago.
“For what, my dear?”
He had the audacity to look almost innocent. Almost.
“You...” Crowley said, his voice quiet and menacing. “You come to my houssse. You ssspoil my poor plantsss rotten. And then you tell them my biggessst sssecret?!”
“Well, I’m sorry, Crowley,” the angel smirked (smirked!). “I just wanted to help, because your poor plants looked miserable. I had no idea they are supposed to be that way.”
“And why did you think I was bringing you the onesss that didn’t grow properly or… or weren’t green enough, or...”
“To… help them get better?” Aziraphale said, starting to look a little broken-hearted. “I honestly had no idea that it’s your way of threatening the ones you didn’t bring.”
“That’s jussst lovely, angel.”
“But now that I know,” Aziraphale muttered, straightening his back, “I shall not endorse it.”
“Meaning?” Crowley asked, lifting his eyebrows.
“That until you stop being so horrible to them, I shall not visit your flat. And it would probably be for the best if you didn’t come to my bookshop, either.”
“You’re bluffing. You wouldn’t.”
“What is it that humans say these days? Watch me, my dear.”
With that, the angel turned on his heel and left.
Crowley let him. He was sure the angel would come back. It might take a week. Maybe two. But he would come back.
Except that he didn’t.
Not a week later, not two weeks later, not a month later.
And Crowley, who’d got used to having the angel around almost every day, had to admit he was starting to go mad. Countless times, he wanted to call Aziraphale, invite him for a lunch or just tell him about his new evil demonic deed he thought of, so the angel could find a way to thwart him. (To be completely honest, he’d had about two new evil ideas during the whole month – not very good. More like terrible. He was lucky Hell wasn’t keeping an eye on him any more. He would be in big trouble if it did.)
Mostly, he just wanted to talk to Aziraphale.
Precisely thirty-five days (right, it was thirty-four days, sixteen hours and fifty-eight minutes, but he absolutely didn’t count every single one of them, nope) after Aziraphale left, Crowley found himself drunk nearly to oblivion on the floor by his plants, sniffling quietly.
The plants didn’t take Aziraphale’s absence any better than their master. During the past month, they kept withering, slowly but constantly, despite all of Crowley’s attempts to stop them from doing so. He’d tried everything – threats, withholding water completely, threats, regular watering, threats, all kinds of fertilizers, more threats… Nothing worked. It was almost as if the plants reflected his own mood. They looked exceptionally terrible today.
Crowley drunkenly kicked aside an empty whisky bottle and growled at the one miserable little plant that looked like it was almost beyond saving.
“Ssso what dyouwanmetodo?” he hissed. “I’m trying, you know. I’m doing my bessst!”
There was no reaction whatsoever.
“Ssss not like I’m the worst, is it? You could do much worse. You could be his plants. Trust me, he’s not like he seems. I’ve witnessed him nearly murder a whole garden full of flowers. A garden. Yeah, he’s kind and sweet and he means good and he’ll tell you how much he loves you, but he knows nothing about… about...”
Nitrogen levels in soil, he wanted to say. Fertilizers. Proper watering techniques.
Instead, he just sniffled again and gazed at the poor, probably dying plant.
“You miss him too, don’t you?” he asked. “Do you miss him like I do? No, you don’t, you can’t.”
Shockingly, the plants didn’t reply. Crowley licked his lips and sighed.
“You wanmeto go to him?” he muttered. “Say I’m sssorry? Will you get better if I do? Will you be okay again?”
The plants straightened their leaves a little.
“Not fair, guys. Not fair,” Crowley smirked. “I’m a demon, for… I’m a demon. I don’t say I’m sssorry!”
Again, no reply, but Crowley had a strange feeling that the plants weren’t really buying it.
It didn’t matter. He’d already made up his mind.
“Fine. Fine. You win. But remember, it’s because of you, not because I can’t live without him!”
No, they definitely weren’t buying it.
“Right. Right,” he sighed. “But I think I’m gonna have to… sober up first…”
Eighteen minutes later, Crowley walked into Aziraphale’s bookshop. He desperately tried to look cool and collected to hide the fact that he was very nearly trembling with nervousness.
“Aziraphale?” he called. “Angel, are you in here?”
An old lady who was currently inspecting a book glared at him.
Right. Customers. Well, he’d better try and drive her away.
“Angel,” he said again. “Sweetheart, where are you?”
The lady returned the book to its shelf, glaring even harder.
“Sorry, ma’am,” Crowley said with way more politeness than the old hag deserved. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen my partner? As in boyfriend. He’s the owner here and...”
The woman didn’t even let him finish before she stormed off with only a small “tsk!”.
The moment the door closed behind her (with a very loud and meaningful slam), Aziraphale emerged from behind a bookshelf.
“Crowley,” he said.
“Was that the only one or is there more of them?” the demon asked.
“The only one, fortunately,” the angel replied. “Thank you for that, my dear, by the way. The way she looked at the book… As if she wanted to buy it only to burn it. Poor Oscar. He doesn’t deserve that.”
Crowley watched the angel run his finger across the spine of the book the woman was looking at.
“Yeah,” he said. “You’re… welcome, angel. Even though you wouldn’t have sold it to her anyway.”
“Of course not. But it’s nice to see you coming to my rescue once again, so I wouldn’t have to be… unpleasant,” Aziraphale smiled.
“Right. No problem. As always.”
Crowley took a deep breath, biting his lower lip, as he gathered his courage to start talking. Really talking, about what he came to talk about. But he couldn’t. He could just stare at the angel.
It took Aziraphale quite a few seconds to realize that the conversation simply wouldn’t move anywhere if he didn’t make the first step – so he made it.
“How… how are the plants, my dear?”
Now, Aziraphale expected several different answers to this question, ranging from “all dead, gotta buy some new ones to torture” to “better than ever, thanks to me doing what you wanted me to”. What he definitely didn’t expect was Crowley to hug him like a boa constrictor and start sobbing into his ancient coat.
“Crowley?” he said quietly. “What’s wrong?”
“Missed you,” Crowley murmured, holding the angel even tighter.
“You or the plants, my dear boy?”
“Both,” Crowley clarified. “Can’t imagine. Dying without you.”
Aziraphale was tempted to ask “you or the plants?” again, but decided against it.
“Crowley,” he said instead. “Are you drunk?”
“Not as much as I was,” came the reply, murmured into the coat so thoroughly that it was hardly intelligible. “Please, angel, I’m sorry, so sorry, just stop being mad at me, I can’t survive you being mad at me.”
“I’m not mad at you,” Aziraphale sighed, wrapping his arms around the demon as much as the situation allowed him. It wasn’t much, but he still felt the demon practically melt against him. “Now, my dear, you should let go a little, if you don’t want to discorporate me. And I sure hope you don’t, because I can’t possibly imagine explaining to Gabriel that I was crushed to death by an overly affectionate serpent.”
“I’d love to see his face if you told him that,” Crowley said, releasing the angel from his deadly grip. He made to take a step back, but Aziraphale’s arm around his waist stopped him. Crowley frowned. “Angel?”
“I said let go a little,” Aziraphale smiled. “Do you know you look absolutely dreadful?”
“I guess. Was a rough month.”
Aziraphale raised his hand and grabbed the rims of Crowley’s sunglasses, but didn’t take them off immediately – he waited for Crowley’s nearly invisible nod before doing it. The demon’s eyes were full of despair, but also hope – and love. A truly incredible amount of love. It made Aziraphale’s heart flutter.
“I’ll tell you what,” he smiled. “I will close the shop and we will get you back home, order a nice meal, have a glass of wine and take care of your lovely plants, what do you say?”
“You hate takeaway.”
“I’ll survive. I hope. That would be even more awkward to explain. Killed by horrible takeaway. Gabriel’s head would probably explode.”
“And it’s not even noon yet.”
“Oh, the shop’s been open for almost an hour now. I think that’s more than enough for one day, don’t you?”
Crowley grinned at that. “Oh, definitely, angel. Let’s go?”
“Just wait a second. I almost forgot I have a little something for you.”
When the couple got to Crowley’s flat, the plants that had been slowly dying an hour ago turned out to be as green and vibrant as ever. And the most vibrant of all was the little one, the one that clearly did understand the rules perfectly, but it just didn’t care. The obvious leader of the revolution.
“I hate you guys,” the demon growled while Aziraphale cooed at every single one of them, telling them how beautiful they looked today. “I really hate you all.”
“What was it, my dear?” Aziraphale asked.
“Nothing, angel. I was just about to introduce him to their new friend.”
(The friend being a brand new tiny potted plant – Aziraphale’s little something for Crowley.
“I expect you to treat it the same way you treat all the others, remember it, Crowley. Exactly. The. Same,” Aziraphale had said.
“Angel,” Crowley had replied. “You know I could never...”
“Yes. I know. Means you are going to have to treat the others better, doesn’t it?”
“Are you absolutely sure you’re not really a demon? Because this is something a demon would do.”
“Not a demon. Just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing.”
“Loving.”
“No, I clearly remember you said knowing.”
“Said, yes. But I meant...”
“I know, Crowley. I know.”)
“Oh. Right. I’ll leave you to it, then. I think you need time to explain the new rules, am I correct?”
“I guess,” Crowley sighed, resigned.
“Good demon,” Aziraphale said, brushing his fingers against Crowley’s as he passed him. “What would you say to some sushi, by the way?”
“Sushi would be great. I’ll be with you in a minute?”
“As long as you need, my love.”
A tremble ran through all the plants in the room – but they weren’t terrified, no. More like very, very excited.
The angel laughed and left. Crowley turned to the plants. He tried to look sinister, but the smile tugging at his lips was completely ruining it all.
“Now you listen to me, you traitorous, spoiled, backstabbing-”
“Crowley!”
Right. The angel could still hear him. Crowley sighed.
“You are beautiful and I love you all?” he tried.
“Much better, my dear. Keep going. You’re doing great.”
Crowley felt a shiver run down his spine. Right. Maybe this praise thing wasn’t really that bad…
A few hours later, a demon was lying on the brand new comfortable couch he’d miracled up, slowly dozing off, and a smiling angel was running his fingers through the demon’s red hair.
The demon was trying to convince himself that he would reinstate his reign of terror over the plants first thing in the morning. Or maybe in a week or so. He just had to wait for the angel to forget about the stupid new rules, and then he would be able to do anything he wanted and…
“Just look at yourself,” the angel murmured. “Six thousands years, and I still cannot believe how beautiful you are, Crowley.”
The demon opened his yellow eyes and smiled.
All right, all right. Maybe, just maybe, the plants didn’t have to be the most terrified in order to be the most luxurious, verdant and beautiful in London. Maybe just a little scared would do.
“Have I ever told you how much I love your eyes?” the angel asked. “Loved them since the garden, really.”
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, angel.”
The angel smiled and scratched the demon’s scalp. And the sound the demon made definitely wasn’t a moan.
“The question is – is it working?”
“Oh, yesss,” the demon hissed. “Don’t you dare ssstop.”
Maybe, just maybe, he was going to let the angel shamelessly manipulate him like this. For a while. A few months. A year, at most.
“I was thinking, my dear… I could spend the night. If you wanted.”
And just then, the demon knew he was going to be shamelessly manipulated for centuries. And the worst part was… he didn’t mind at all.
#good omens#crowley x arizaphale#the ineffable husbands#good omens fanfiction#aziraphale x crowley#my fanfics
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For the drabble prompt I'm asking for #28...or #12. Or both together cause that sounds like a fun Tuesday. XD Stay wonderful!
Authors Note: This is adrabble from the drabble prompt challenge. It’s number #12 and #28. It’s myfirst one so please let me know what you think of it! (also be gentle haha)Thank you for the ask @harlequinash! This is quite long as my words got away with me but Iswear I’ll be brief next time lol. Hope you enjoy!
This drabble is separate from my series ‘Runaway’ but I’musing the same MC haha
[Edit: The outline and placing of stuff on this post are messed up on the mobile version yet seem fine on the desktop version. Just warning you :) ]
Book: The Royal Romance
Pairing: Liam x MC[Ariel]
Word Count: 1, 982 (give or take)
Warnings: Swearing, drunkenness
Lava
The Queen of Cordonia could hold her liquor. She was a master at it.Being an American and New Yorker, respectively, she had her fair share of night’s out. A few times after long week’s ofcorrespondence with delegates, ambassadors and many insufferable nobles she lether hair down and dabbled in a few drinks to calm herself or have fun.
She didn’t know how Liam did it. He was the epitome of a king and thequeen herself? Well…let’s just say she was still learning.
It’s only been 6 months since the wedding and she’d been thrust rightinto the work of a monarch and she had been run off her feet since.
She was exhausted.
So, it was after a long day of meetings, a bill passing through theRoyal Council and a very long, detailed meeting with their Director of RoyalCommunications, that saw her sitting in the lower wing of the palace in the secluded bar just outside the copious palace grounds.
She was sitting at the bar, a glass of whiskey in her hand, sipping onit slowly, thinking about her schedule tomorrow which consisted of brunch withthe Queen Mother and a few meetings she had to attend with Liam. A burst of exhaustionwent through her.
I am so ready for sleep…
“Heyoooo!”
A booming voice rang through the quiet space of the downstairs bar andAriel winced at the volume, her body jumping in shock. Her mouth pursed into ascowl, having enjoyed a few moments of silence before the hurricane known asMaxwell Percival Beaumont flew in.
However, as soon as she met the excited, blue eyes of her self-adoptedfun-loving brother, her earlier annoyance fizzled out to be replaced by abright smile. Maxwell’s energy seeping into her tired bones.
“Hey, Maxwell. What are you doing down here?”
Maxwell shoots Ariel a grin, nodding to the bottle of Russian vodka onthe shelf next to the bottle of Jägermeister. On further thought, Maxwellpointed to the Jägermeister as well. The bartender nodded, handing over bothbottles before putting down a shot glass.
Ariel stared at her friend, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Maxwell…whatthe hell are you doing?”
“Well, Your Majesty…I believe that for a woman who has been working ashard as you have deserves a load off so…” Maxwell pauses, reaching over the barand grabbing more shot glasses. “I think it is time for some alcohol!”
Ariel resisted the urge to groan. She could hold her liquor, yes. But Russianvodka, Jägermeister and the already two glasses of whiskey already buzzing throughher veins would not be a good combination in the long wrong run. Mixing drinksis always a bad idea.
Ariel gives him a long-suffering look. “Maxwell…that’s very thoughtful.But I don’t think that’s a good idea. I have brunch with Regina tomorrow and Ican’t afford––”
Maxwell interrupts her with a wave of his hand. “Bruch, smunch. Youdeserve this.”
“But––”
“No buts, Ariel. You need to relax a little. All that queenly stuff andpaperwork isn’t good for one’s social life.”
Ariel stares indignantly at Maxwell. “I have a great social life,Beaumont!”
Maxwell scoffs, a laugh bubbling up from his throat. “Yeah, because youhave to. You’re the Queen of Cordonia but that doesn’t mean you socialise withthe right people.”
Ariel raises an eyebrow. “Are you implying that you’re the right people for me to be hanging with?”
Maxwell’s grin grows wide. “Naturally.”
“Oh, Maxwell…” Ariel laughed, shaking her head at the youngest Beaumontbrother. He was so incorrigible. Despite how tired she felt, Ariel couldn’thelp the smile lifting her lifts. Maxwell was just that kind of person whoalways lit up a room with his energy.
Ariel finished off the last of her whiskey, setting down the glass witha soft tap against the bar. She groans as she stands up, her feet throbbingfrom being on them all day.
“Uh, uh. Where are you going?”
Ariel stares at him for a minute. “I am going to bed, Maxwell. I havestuff to do tomorrow.”
Maxwell rolls his eyes but continues to pour two shots of vodka forthem both. “Come on, Ariel. You know you want to…”
Ariel sighs, running her hands through her hair. “I have a feeling youaren’t going to stop until I placate you and say yes.”
Maxwell leans back, grasping the two shot glasses and handing one overto her.
“You’re quite right about that.”
Ariel rolls her eyes, the hint of another smile on her lips as theyclink glasses and they both toss back the shot, the strong Russian alcoholburning down her throat as it went.
***
“Maxwell…you a succhh a bad in-plueence on me…”
“Whaaat can I say, Ariel? I am one half of the Brothers Beaumont. Ihaaavve to be at least good at something, right?”
Ariel giggles, the sound loud in the room they occupied. They had movedfrom the bottom level bar to the drawing room next to it. Maxwell and Arielwere seated on the ground, their backs leaning up against the sofa.
“You know what, Maxwell?”
“What?”
Ariel lolls her head to the side, her mind a haze with the amount of alcoholshe had consumed.
“I think I could beat you at a game of lava.”
Maxwell looks at her quizzically despite his inebriated state. “Lavv-a?What kind of game is that?”
Ariel’s lips pull up in a large grin, her excitement growing. This is onegame that Maxwell wouldn’t know about.
Ariel pours herself another shot of vodka and downs it, slamming the glass on the coffee table before standing, wobbling on her feet slightly.
“Okay…now, I will teach you this custom. It was basically the childhood gameof all American child-renn…”
Seeing Ariel’s smile, Maxwell follows her, jumping up on his feet,himself almost falling over. “Okay! Showme this custom of yours, Little Blossom!”
Ariel laughs, clapping her hands in childlike excitement. “Okay. Soooo…youhave to pretennd that..the ground is hot like lava and that everyything else isssaaafe. So…let’sss say I call out ‘lava’…then we’d have to find the n-nearestpiece of furniture and stand on it. The first one to fall down or trip loses.”
“Buuut…” Ariel says, lifting up a finger. “The last one to land on a piece of furniture has to take a drink.”
Maxwell smiles, nodding his head in drunken excitement. “Ooooh…let’s dothisss. P-prepare to lose, little blossom-m.”
Ariel and Maxwell begin on opposite sides of the reading room. Both ofthem in the middle, eyeing prospective places to keep off the floor. With themany shots of alcohol running through her system Ariel gives a devious grin toMaxwell and shouts at the top of her lungs,
“LAVA!”
With that yell, Ariel shoots away and jumps on to the nearest thing shecan find which was a cream coloured reading chair beside the fireplace. Maxwellhad found a brown oak coffee table to settle on. Both Ariel and Maxwell laughas they take turns in jumping on the furniture, shooting back vodka and yelling‘Lava’ a few times their voices almost raw.
“Lava! Oh, Ariel—watch out!”
In her excitement to get to safety on top of the sofa, Ariel missed herfooting and with the momentum of her upper body she tumbles over the back of thesofa and lands with a loud thud.
“Ow! That f-fucking hurt!”
“Craaap! Are you alright?”
“What in the world is going on in here?”
Ariel freezes, her body going rigid at the voice. She recognised it. Herface scrunched up in a grimace. It wasn’t many times that he saw her drunk butnow was one of those times.
Ariel thought it best to stay behind the sofa. It was the safest place forher to be right now.
Ariel peeked underneath it, seeing Maxwell standing atop the piano. Shestifled a giggle that wanted to bubble up from her throat but she slapped ahand on her mouth to stop it.
“Maxwell? What are you doing on the piano?”
Ariel sees as Maxwell stumbles for words, himself swaying on the pianotrying to appear sober but failing miserably.
“Um –– I…I don’t…you see…it was Ariel’s idea…”
Thanks a lot, Maxwell…
“Ariel? Is she here? Where is she?”
Ariel closes her eyes as her heart beats widely against her chest.
Shit. Shit. Shiiit.
“She’s hiding behind the sofa.”
Ariel hears a sigh and feet hitting the floor before a shadow passesover her form and she inclines her head upwards and locks eyes with herhusband. His face was a neutral mask of stoicism but his eyes told a differentstory.
He was mad…but even in her drunken state she could see remnants ofamusement in them too.
“What are you doing down there, my love?”
Ariel stares at Liam for a small while and then she grins. “Oh, I’m justplaying Lava with Maxwell. You know…a game…with a few shots of vodka here andthere.”
Liam’s shoulders shake with a low chuckle and he shakes his head. “Ariel…whatam I going to do with you?”
Ariel smiles from her position on the floor. “Uh…maybe take me to bed? Ithink I had a little too much-h to driiink.”
Liam smiles, his blues sparkling with affection before he bends down andscoops his wife into his arms. “Come on, my queen. Let’s get you to bed. Youhave a long day tomorrow.
Ariel smiles, giving Liam a sloppy kiss on the cheek. “That sounds nice.I love youuuu…”
Ariel’s eyes were already slipping shut. She feels the low rumble ofLiam’s laugher against her ear. “I love you too, Ariel.”
***
Ariel awakens, her eyes throbbing and her head pounding. She felt likeshe’d been thumped in the head a few times.
“Ugh!” Ariel groans. “My head…”
Ariel tries to open her eyes but the light against her lids is painfuland she snaps them shut with a hiss.
“Sore head, Ariel?”
Ariel lies back down against her bed and groans. “More like a sorefreaking everything.”
Liam chuckles, leaning down to kiss Ariel’s forehead gently. “I’m sorryto hear that, my love. But unfortunately, duty calls…you have a meeting in an hour withRegina.”
Ariel’s eyes snap open, all thoughts of her pounding headache gone. Inher rush to get out of the bed, her feet tangled up and she falls to thefloor, her arms flailing about.
She lands on the floor with a loud thump. “Geez! Ow.”
Liam’s warm laughter fills their bed chambers and wraps around Arielmaking her shiver. “That’s the second time you’ve done that.”
Ariel pops up from the floor, giving her husband a questioning look. “Secondtime? When was the first time?”
“When you were in the bottom parlor and hiding behind the sofa?”
Ariel brings a hand to her forehead and scratches it in confusion. Theevents of last night all but a blur.
“How drunk was I?”
Liam grins, his eyes crinkling atthe edges with mirth. “Drunk enough to proposition me, strip down to your underwear before passing out.”
Ariel gasps, her head beginning to throb louder. “Oh. Sorry…”
Liam chuckles, running a fingerdown her cheek. “No qualms about that, my sweet. Maybe another time.”
Ariel gives him a sly smirk. “I’llbe holding you to that.”
Liam chuckles, giving her a quickkiss before heading to the doors that lead out of their suite.
“I look forward to it. Oh, andAriel?”
Ariel glances back at her husband. “Yeah?”
“Maybe next time we can play ourown game.”
Ariel gulps. “I––I look forward tothat.”
Liam gives her a wink before slinkingout the door and leaves Ariel to take care of her throbbing headache and the fact that she had to appear sober in front of Regina when in fact she had a killer hangover.
This was going to be a long day,indeed.
#choices trr#the royal romance fanfic#trr drabble#trr writing prompt#choices#choices stories you play#liam x mc#the royal romance#trr#trr short fanfic#choices fandom#long post#aworldoffandoms
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Rising Sun
Kirishima Fantasy Au!!
Pairing: Prince!Kirishima x princess!reader
Warnings: swearing, drinking, angst
A/n: disaster Baby took things too far again and well, um, eventually falling in love takes a long time and all... so like... this is gonna be a series (if it’s liked enough) lmfao. Huzzah? We love Kirishima. Also, LISTEN, I hate referring to Kiri as Prince Eijirou so that’ll change in other parts of the series but this is formal shit right here and I’m SORRY for EVERYTHING. ALSO LISTEN, I’m just gonna come out and say it: fantasy Kirishima is a got dam dragon (unbeknownst to the dear reader) and you CANT CHANGE MY MIND.
Your H/C hair fell down way past your bare shoulders. You wore a gown made from a nearly weightless material that glinted, light reflecting the fire from the torches that lit up the hall. It fit flawlessly, the dress molded your torso beautifully, complementing your feminine shape. The gown draped past your toes, slightly drifting from your legs. It was the color of lost childhood memories, with patterns that seemed to be changing the longer it was stared at. Its strapless style revealed your precious collarbones wrapping around your smooth, luring, skin.
You would have adored your dress if you had been wearing it for any other occasion. Your father, King Jamtiln of your kingdom, linked his arm through yours, giving you a stern look. You sighed as you heard the harp music begin through the Kirishima temple doors. The doors were pulled open by two scantily clad women, one with bright blue hair, the other with red. You had to stop yourself from frowning. Why couldn’t Prince Eijirou marry one of them instead?
“It’s for the good of our kingdom,” your father had told you over and over. You knew he was right. You’ve seen too many friends come back from war with the Draconian Kingdom burned and wounded from battle. You were just upset that it had to come to you being married off to someone you only met once. Many men had given up their lives for your kingdom so now you had to give up yours for any hope of peace.
Your father slowly walked you down the aisle as the crowd rose for you. To your left, family members and noble people were smiling supportingly at you. You heard whispers of “beautiful,” and “exquisite,” which didn’t numb your nerves. To your right, strange men and women adorned in foreign scarves and skirts stood tall, nodding at you as you walked by. This kingdom’s people were not modest in the way you dressed; they showed off their muscles and their scars with pride. The whispers you heard from that side were in a language you did not understand.
The man your father placed you next to, your betrothed, wasn’t any less modest than the people in his kingdom. His chest was bare with ceremonial patterns painted onto his toned body and he wore black, loose fitting pants that had a crimson scarf wrapped around his hips. His scarlet hair was adorned in gold and rubies, the gold ran down his face and around his jaw with spikes that resembled teeth poking upwards. If you weren’t frightened before, you sure as hell were now.
A high priestess from your kingdom and a shaman from his was to marry the both of you. The priestess invited the room to sitl. As she spoke her words seemed to blur and swirl around in your head. You couldn’t keep up with anything she was saying, you couldn’t keep up with your own breath. Prince Eijirou’s brows knitted together as he watched your eyes dart from his to the priestess and all around the room. When the priestess was finished talking, she bowed her head and took a step back.
The shaman was next to speak. He held his hands high and the crowd on the Draconian side stood. “I’m going to ask that the Prince and Princess embrace for the ceremony.” The Draconian Prince held out his arm to you and you places a delicate hand on his forearm. His calloused fingers wrapped around your arm supportively. In unison, the crowd let out a low guttural grunt. The shaman began to speak in their native tongue, an animalistic nearly growled language, and you knew at this point of the ceremony all you had to do was keep eye contact with your groom.
His eyes matched the rubies in his hair and as the shaman continues to speak, they seemed to get brighter and before you knew it you were entranced, taken in by the story of his people, of his family’s descent, of who he was and how he got there, the story told all through his eyes.
When the shaman finishes speaking, the crowd stomped their feet twice and let out another grunt. The shaman took a torch in to his hands, turned to you and spoke, in English, “when I light this pit,” he gestured towards a round marble table with white logs sticking out of the table’s indent, “that is when the two of you kiss, binding the two of you together, uniting your kingdoms. Do you understand Princess Y/N?” For the good of your kingdom. Not looking away from Eijirou’s ruby orbs, you nod. “And you, Prince Eijirou?” He nods. The shaman lowers the torch and the white logs burst into flames.
There’s a chant like humming coming from the Kirishima people as the prince’s hands tighten around your arm. His free hand finds your back and pulls you towards him, the reflection of the fire danced off his pupils as his face grew closer to yours. Not able to stare for too much longer, you close your eyes.
His lips greet yours and for a moment you are taken aback by the heat of the kiss. His hand leaves your arm and caresses your face, pressing deeper into you. You open your mouth slightly and kiss him back. The crowd’s humming grows louder and you feel as though embers are burning in your stomach. You fight the urge to pull away as the prince grabs your chin, temperatures only rising when his scorching tongue slides in through your soft lips. He pulls away and you breathe out black smoke.
Embarrassed, you cover your mouth. He grabs your hand and turns towards the crowd, lifting your intertwined fingers into the air. Your family’s side claps while the Kirishima side begins to yell and cheer, the prince joining in, with a triumphant roar completing the ceremony.
After the wedding was had, shows were put on for the both of your now joined families. People danced and sang and drank and congratulated the future king and queen. More times than you could count you were offered wine or ale to ease your nerves for what you rued, the inevitable alone time with your husband. Bitterly dehydrated, you only drank water.
When the festivities finish your father and the King of the Kirishima Temple take your husband aside and you are lead by the woman with blue hair who opened the temple doors for you at the beginning of your wedding, to your new bedroom.
“New sheets, finely made for thisss… special occasion.” The woman runs a seductive finger across your bed and walks over to you, slowly, swaying her hips. “I am to dress you, now,” she says laying her long fingers on your bare shoulders. You blush. ‘Dressing you’ meant undressing you and fitting you into a gown to be worn for your husband. You had been used to being put to bed by your Mina back home, a chambermaid you’ve come to trust, but the woman before you who was more than a head taller than you, you did not know and you definitely did not trust.
“You’re nervous,” she purrs, brushing your hair, “is this your first time?”
You gulp. “Yes,” You say, avoiding her piercing gaze.
She chuckles. “Interesting. I suppose that is to be expected of a princess but I often wondered about the social lives of foreigners. Everything is free range to them. You could’ve fucked whoever or… whatever you pleased and quickly dispose of them and slaughter off anyone who would dare speak a word of it. You’ve missed your opportunity.” She waits for you to respond and when you don’t she continues. “Draconians mate for life,” she puts it simply and waits for it to sink in.
You part your lips and she smiles, almost snakelike. For life? The finality of everything, the wedding, this kingdom, the prince, hits you like cobblestone to the head. You knew this. You knew that your future was given up as soon as your agreed to marry the prince. You take a moment to yourself and finally say “so Prince Eijirou hasn’t… either?”
“No,” she says firmly, “but I would not put that against him. Eijirou can be a bit of a brute and this poor fragile flesh of yours,” she says pulling on your shoulder, “well, I won’t be surprised if he has you torn to shreds by the end of the night.”
Your face goes white but your skin seethes with anger. You push her hand away from you. “I think I can handle changing on my own, thank you.”
Still grinning, she takes a step towards the door. “Suit yourself,” she says, “I was only trying to be nice. But I suppose it is all for not. There’s no way out of thiss. He has already marked you when he gave you that… steaming kiss. Do yourself a favor and have some wine before he gets in. You’re going to need it.” With that, she throws her long blue locks over her shoulder and struts out of the bedroom.
Monster, you think as you pace around the bed. Witch! You hand grabs a bedpost. You wish you could throw something, you’re so angry. What a warm welcome into your new kingdom! Your eyes fix on a bottle of wine sitting on a silver platter on top of a dresser. You huff. “Why not?”
Uncorking the bottle, you pour it greedily into a crystal glass. You don’t give it a second to breathe, the dark liquid is already sliding down your throat. It is bitter but you don’t mind it. “To calm your nerves?” You remember so many people asking. More like to ease your temper. Before you know it, the glass is empty and you’re pouring another. You hear someone clear their throat at the door and you turn.
Prince Eijirou is leaning against the doorframe with arms crossed against his bare chest. The paint has been scrubbed away from his body and his once spiked up hair fell down to his shoulders. He was no longer wearing the headpiece that ran your nerves into the ground and his loose fitted pants were replaced by black silky bottoms. Your heart begins to thrum in your chest and your hand holding your glass starts to shake.
Slowly he walks over to you, taking the glass from your hand he gulps it down, eyeing you the entire time. When he is finished he wipes his lips on the back of his hand and says, “you haven’t changed.”
That might’ve been the first thing he has ever said to you. You narrow your eyes and grab the glass back, slamming it down onto the platter. You pour more wine into the glass and fill up the second glass and push that into his chest, the back of your fingers pressing into his skin. So warm.
“Anaya was supposed to help you,” he says, gently taking his glass from your hands.
Anaya, a pretty name for such disaster of a person. “She has helped me plenty,” you sarcastically bite out.
He closes his eyes and sighs. You take note of the ring scar he has on the lid of the eye. You might’ve thought it was cute before knowing that the prince was “a bit of a brute.” He points to the folding screen and says, “your gown should be there.”
Nude and hiding behind the folding screen you take a deep breath. Hiding from the inevitable, you think to yourself. It’s one night you have to get through. Just one night. You pull the red silk gown over you. It fit snugly against your curves and that made you all the more nervous. The top had straps that were supposed to wrap around your neck and be tied in the back and you struggled feverishly to figure out how.
A soft voice called from the other side of the screen. “Do you need… help?” He asked and heat rose to your cheeks.
“No!” You call back, clawing helpless at your back. Damn gown, stupid night, horrible Anaya. Tears threaten to fall from your eyes. Eijirou is silent and you wish he would ask again.
Giving up, you step out and away from the screen. Eijirou is staring into his glass and when he looks up his eyes widen. “Oh! It looks…-“
“I do need help,” you gesture to your neck. “Will you?”
You couldn’t tell if he was blushing or if it was just the hue of his skin, still, he nods and makes his way over to you. Holding up your hair, you turn for him and he wraps the straps easily over your soft neck, tying a knot. You let your hair fall down over the spot where it was tied.
You both stand there for a moment before he lays a hand on your arm, caressing you up to your shoulder. He pulls your hair over to the side and lays a gentle kiss against your shoulder blade. You expected his lips to burn you as they did for the wedding but his lips were soft, kisses tentative, no scorching sensation to be had.
He places a hand on your hip, swaying you slightly, as he kisses reach your neck. You catch yourself sighing as you feel his tongue on the back of your ear. You almost forget what Anaya had said when you feel his teeth graze your lobe. Sharp.
“Poor fragile flesh…” your vision begins to blur, “I won’t be surprised if he has you torn to shreds by the end of the night.” The room begins to darken, the hand in your hips begins to pull on your gown, hiking it up. You imagine the man behind you as a monster, readying you to be eaten alive. “Torn to shreds…” Your body goes limp and you begin to fall...
Part 2
~
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First Love (Part Four) | Isaac Lahey
POV: Female Reader
Author’s Note: I’m totally grateful for all the feedback I’ve been getting for the first three parts. Hope y’all would love thisss! 💗
I went through rollercoasters writing this fic and that is why it has a Part Four. For NEW READERS out there, please read the previous chapters. :) Thanks!
Chapters: Part One | Part Two | Part Three
Do you know that thing people say that it’s easier to move on from someone when you don’t see them or hear from them? I think it’s bullshit. When Isaac was gone, my thoughts paced between moving on from him and waiting for him. There wasn’t a day that I didn’t think of him. I tried watching Spy Game but I didn’t enjoy it or even finish it knowing he wasn’t with me. He was a Robert Redford fan. He’s classy like that.
I could hardly ever enjoy the things I normally did. So I thought I needed something to keep me busy. Getting a job at the animal clinic turned out to be fitting to me because Deaton needed a spare hand when Scott wasn’t around, and I love animals. Having Scott around made me learn why Isaac decided to move to his pack instead of staying with Derek’s.
Scott and I grew closer as friends that he even let me hangout with Stiles, Kira, and Malia. I was always insecure about the girls in their pack. They were all skilled, supernatural, and stuff like that. But they never let me feel like I was anyone less of a person just because I’m human. Stiles always reassured me that while the rest of the pack had some supernatural abilities, we, on the other hand, relied on our knowledge.
It didn’t take long before they pushed me to admit my feelings for Isaac. I guess it was written all over my face that I loved him and missed him real bad. I’d told them it was pretty hard to tell if he’d ever come back. He took Allison’s death pretty hard. I guess I couldn’t blame him for that. I told them the whole story - my longtime feelings for him, confession, the time he said goodbye, and how I still don’t know if Isaac would ever fall for me. That’s when Stiles hatched a plan for when Isaac would come back.
When we heard that Isaac was finally coming home, we went through Stiles’ plan to make Isaac jealous and hopefully fall for me. At this point, I couldn’t even say if he could be jealous. Isaac never saw me with another guy other than him. Stiles said Scott would be perfect because Isaac always respected him, being Scott’s omega and all.
“We need to find him a tough match. Someone that’d threaten him enough and also,” Stiles explained as he pointed his finger up in the air to make a point. “Motivate him enough to make a fucking move.”
“You’re saying this as if he actually likes me.” I regret saying this. I blatantly displayed my insecurity. Scott and Stiles shared a glance at one another.
“Y/N, listen,” Scott began. “I know he never said anything. But he’s protected you the way I did with Allison. If he’s not in love with you yet, then we’ll make him. Right, Stiles?” The plan just got more ridiculous than it originally sounded. Stiles dumbfoundedly nodded his head repeatedly, agreeing to Scott like a real wingman.
“That’s why we’re gonna make him jealous! If a guy is threatened by another guy, he’ll make a move!” Stiles stated irritatedly.
“OK, but how would that happen if he knew that Scott and I are together?? That’ll never work,” I rejected. I’ve been with these guys for a year, planning how to save lives, but not making one fall for me.
“Y/N, trust me. You’re talking to a guy with the 10-year plan to make Lydia Martin fall in love with him. She’s dated others, I have as well,” then pointed one finger upward and mouthed, “Actually just one,” then spoke in his normal voice again, “but now we’re both single, so that 10-year plan remains in action.” I took a sharp breath. His argument was fucking valid. “It’ll work.”
The day that Isaac finally met with me, I was so fucking thrilled. Scott had told me that Isaac was in school, but urged me to stay away and to stick to the plan: make Isaac jealous. Scott and Stiles had even managed to include Lydia and Malia in this plan. And I quote Stiles, “If everybody ‘knows’ you and Scott are dating, then chances are he’s going to believe it. And he’ll get jealous and regret it for not going for you before. It’s a fool-proof plan.”
I badly wanted to just stray from the plan and confess again, even if it meant I was gonna embarrass myself again. Scott made sure I acted surprised when I saw Isaac. It’s not like any ‘acting’ was needed. I missed the bastard.
A week later, Isaac would hangout with us or go with the pack when they had a mission. One afternoon, though, Scott told him to watch over me while they pretended to go save Hayden and Liam from captivity as an excuse. Isaac was uneasy when he learned more about the Dread Doctors. It was pretty easy for Scott to convince him to be on the task. Scott picked me up in the morning so I didn’t have to drive my car and so that Isaac and I would take a walk like usual. I missed it a lot. I missed the way afternoons felt when I walked home with him.
“Just like old times, huh?” He mused and drew a small smile on the corner of his mouth.
“Yeah. Been a while, Lahey,” I remarked. For the first time since the night I confessed, we walked together feeling the awkwardness in the air. We didn’t exactly have a peaceful parting when he left. I let him go but I made it clear to him that I wasn’t okay with it. I missed him too much that being mad at him for leaving seemed time-consuming and pointless. Him being here with me was all that mattered. That’s how soft I go with Isaac. All the hurt I’ve forgiven, just to see him stand close to me like this. Our hands almost touching.
“I have a few movies we could watch at home. I saved them for when you got back,” I said to him with a smile. He smiled too, chuckling, and almost stopping but he kept walking. He brushed his fingers through his hair.
“Why are you doing this to me?”
“What?”
“I know how much you love spy movies. I don’t want you missing out on those just because I was gone,” He said, probably feeling guilty again. It’s you whom I missed, you idiot.
“But it’s never been the same without you, Lahey,” I took the time to look at his eyes and mean what I said. “Besides, I’ve been binge-watching TV shows to make up for the movies I missed.”
“How about I make it up to you?” He shrugged, looking all adorable. Oh god, where is this going? I asked him how only with an expression on my face. “I’ll do anything you ask. Anything.” The second ‘anything’ felt like he meant more than binge-watching with me. I couldn’t help but smile to myself, and I felt him steal glances from me. He felt so different around me now.
“How about never leaving me again?” I asked, and I knew I shouldn’t have because it could jeopardize my fake relationship with Scott and the whole plan to make him jealous. He stopped walking and faced me. The atmosphere was golden as the sun started setting. He looked so handsome in the way he fixed his hair and he looked at me the way I never saw him look before. He held my hands and his felt cold and a little sweaty.
“I never wanna leave you again,” He promised. His eyes looked at mine intently. “It was a mistake for me to leave you. Now you’re here, and you’re with Scott now and the others in his pack. You’re much closer to danger than before I left you. It’s my fault. I put you in this position.” His expression became apologetic.
“What are you talking about?”
He shrugged. “Maybe…if I never told you about me being a werewolf, then you wouldn’t have known about all the supernatural stuff going on around here. And Scott wouldn’t have let you join his pack and involve you. It’s too dangerous.” He looked around us and prompted me to keep walking so we could get to Scott’s house already. Nightfall would’ve caught up with us if we stayed on the road arguing.
When we got to Scott’s house, I opened the door for Isaac so he could get through the mountain ash. Scott’s mom was on graveyard duty and left some food Isaac and Scott could cook. In this case, for me and Isaac. I cooked us dinner and he helped me prepare.
“How long have you been dating Scott?” Stiles kept saying Isaac would ask, and he wasn’t wrong. I got that covered.
“Oh…for six months now. I guess it kinda happened all in good timing. Know what I mean?” I practiced this with Scott and Stiles lots of times. He said I needed to know how to lie without being detected. Kind of like my favorite spies on TV. I loved the feeling of being on a mission.
“No. What do you mean?”
“Well, after Kira left to be with the Skinwalkers, things started to lay low, the same time I got the job at the animal clinic. She and Scott had to break up because Kira’s journey with the Skinwalkers was something indefinite. Nobody knows when she’d return. Scott and I grew close as friends…and eventually, he asked me out,” I said, looking at Isaac leaning on the kitchen table as he listened to me. His eyes drifted far, probably imagining how things happened.
“He shouldn’t have,” He murmured.
“Why not?” He looked upset when I asked.
“It’s not safe for you, Y/N!” He bellowed all of a sudden. It scared me a little bit. He never raised his voice on me before. “I-I’m sorry.” He pursed his lips as he realized his impulsive yell. He seemed uneasy, trying to keep his fury hidden in his semi-sharp breaths. “I didn’t mean to yell at you.” I just looked at him and then turned around to get back to my cooking. I didn’t know what to say. I could feel his eyes still trained on me.
This tension between us was new to me. He never got mad at me before. At least not this intensely. I was always the one getting mad at him, cursing him, and shoving him. I was always the one getting hurt by his actions. And now I think I was returning him the favor. Guilt started building up in my heart. This was beyond our plan to make him jealous. I failed to grasp how serious Isaac was about keeping me safe. For all I know, our plan wasn’t working at all. He’s never gonna be jealous of Scott. He’ll never fall in love with me. This plan sucks, I thought. I started feeling sad, almost forgetting that Isaac was right behind me.
“Y/N? Are you okay?” He asked, standing up and walking towards me. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. I don’t know what got into me.” His voice was low and sounded genuine. He ran his hand on my shoulder down to my arm. I knew he didn’t mean to yell. But he didn’t know why my heart was sinking. Before I knew it, tears started falling across my cheeks. He gently turned me to face him and held my face softly. “I’ll never do it again. I promise. It just scares the hell out of me knowing you put yourself on the line.”
“What’s the difference, anyway? I’m your best friend. What makes that different from me being with Scott?” I felt silly asking this, but as far as I was concerned, the plan was still in motion.
His jaws started clenching as he removed his hands from my face and turned around. “You don’t understand…” He murmured, his voice firm, his back still facing me.
“Then help me understand,” I said, wiping my tears and then turned off the stove before I could set Scott’s house on fire because I was arguing with Isaac.
“I can’t lose you, too!” He sneered, but his voice lowered when he said ‘you’, realizing he was yelling again. He finally faced me again. “I know Scott’s a great guy. He does everything he could to save everyone. But I just think that he doesn’t believe that that doesn’t happen all the time, Y/N.”
“And you do,” I remarked. I knew I shouldn’t have said this. I was pressing all the wrong buttons.
“Yeah. I do.” His tone was firm. It was Allison all over again. My brows furrowed at that. I felt like I was back in junior year again, helplessly in love, and deliberately rejected again.
“Why are you back here anyway??” I retorted. “You left me when knew you could’ve stayed. It’s not like you leaving actually did anything to protect me or make me happy, Isaac! I never know what the fuck is going on with you.” He kept his silence and that encouraged me to keep going, but I trailed a little farther back into the past.
“You never even told me when you started falling for Allison. And I felt so stupid believing that I had a fucking chance with you even when I saw in your eyes how smitten you were with her. Do you know how much it hurt me to see you get hurt when Allison died??” Tears started forming in my eyes again. I shook my head. “No. You don’t.” He looked down, defeated at my words.
“You’re right. I don’t,” he admitted. “I came back because I wanted to see you again. You’re the reason I came home, Y/N.” I wanted him to say it again because I couldn’t believe what my ears were hearing. “But I can’t help but freak out knowing how involved you are in the supernatural. For god’s sakes, Y/N, we’re at Scott’s house hiding out right now!” He yelled again but trailed off. “...When you could be at your house, having a safe, normal night, just like you used to.” It took me a while to respond. He’s made his point.
“You’re being silly, Lahey,” was all I could say, then I walked towards the window, completely neglecting the uncooked food I started. “Why are you being so difficult about this?” I asked, facing him now, my face bearing a tired expression.
“Because I regret everything,” He said flatly, but I sensed he meant so much more.
“What? What do you mean?”
“I regret it! All of it!” He finally snapped. “I regret not telling you how beautiful you are when I first met you! I regret telling you about becoming a werewolf when I really wanted to say was that I was in love with you! I was in love with you since 9th grade, Y/N.” He said, his voice finally lowering.
“I regret leaving you for as long as I did, but I wouldn’t have realized how much I was still in love with you if I didn’t pull myself away from you.” Sadness took over his face. “When Allison died, I couldn’t bear the feeling of losing you too. You’re family. You’re the last one I have.” His voice broke. He slouched his shoulders as he looked down, hiding his damp eyes from me.
“Lahey…” I whispered as I walked slowly towards him, spreading my arms for him to reach, and then without saying anything, he held them and pulled me in for a tight embrace.
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he cried. He stroked my hair and I dug my face in his chest and squeezed his back, lingering in his embrace. It lasted longer than I’d hoped. “I love you, Y/N. You may have Scott now, but you still have me. You’ll always have me.” He broke the hug and held me in my shoulders. “I promise.”
I smiled at him and tightened my embrace. “You’re the best, Lahey.” I couldn’t keep my smiles. I hid it in his chest, but I think he could still see it because he never stopped looking at me.
“No, you are,” he argued in the sweetest tone I’ve ever heard. I couldn’t contain my happiness at this turn of events that I immediately grabbed my phone to call Stiles. It startled him since it was kind of random for me to do it at that moment.
“Stiles! Our plan worked!” I said excitedly on the phone. Isaac furrowed his eyebrows incredulously as he listened to my conversation. “He confessed,” I said smiling mischievously as I looked at Isaac.
“YES! See?? I told you it’d work! Always believe in the man with the 10-year plan!”
“What’s going on? What plan??” Isaac asked suspiciously. I put my phone on speaker so he could hear Stiles.
“You got Punk’d, Lahey! We got you, scarf-boy!” Stiles said and his laugh over the phone reverberated in the kitchen. Isaac just rolled his eyes as he shook his head on Stiles.
“OK, see you later, Stiles!” I said and immediately hung up. I smiled at Isaac menacingly as I watched him still keeping a confused expression. He uttered my name, asking for an explanation. “OK, this one’s on me. Scott and I are just friends. Stiles planned this whole thing to make you jealous. So you’d make a move,” I said, smiling, and biting the tip of my thumbnail. “I guess what I’m trying to say is...I love you, you idiot.” He shook his head and looked at me incredulously.
“You sly girl…” he remarked, smirking at me and bringing me back close to him. He held my neck and kept my face close to his. I’ve never been this close to his face before. He looked at me with so much desire that it almost overwhelmed me. “I should start telling you what I always wanted to say. No more secrets. Starting with how much I thought about you in France. I missed this pretty face.” He kissed my cheeks and then my lips for the very first time. We both let out a soft moan, but his seemed louder. “Been wanting to do that since I was 15.”
“You’re the first girl that I ever loved, Y/N...and still do. That’ll never change for me. That smile? It makes my knees weak when I see you smile like that. When you put your hair down like this? It drove me crazy seeing you wear that for Scott. And that stupid sandwich guy!” He spread his arm out. “You can tell him I’m your best bud...but I’ll tell him you’re...you’re my best girl,” he kissed me slowly this time. “Oh and that thumb-biting thing? That turns me on…” he trailed off as he kissed me on the lips, gently sucking on my lower lip. “Big time,” he added, then kissed me again. His lips were soft and moved softly against mine. Am I dreaming?
Our kisses felt overdue. It was the first time he held me too low on the waist, his hand almost reaching my ass. Isaac never touched me inappropriately. The places he held were always between my shoulders or my face, but even that was pretty rare. He held my hands too. He loved holding my hands. I just remembered, he never protested when I clung to him in his chest. But now...we held each other so differently this time. Our touches were firm, gentle, and electric.
Our tongues started dancing inside our mouths. It was a little awkward, but it got better every second. While still kissing me, he walked me towards the kitchen counter and lifted me to sit there so I won’t have to keep raising my head, and he won’t have to keep leaning in to kiss me.
When I involuntarily bumped my pelvis onto his, our kiss was interrupted by the quick sensation it brought us. Catching our breaths, we kept our gazes locked on each other. I could smell his breath, making me want more of his kisses. I noticed him have a hard on and he looked at it when he saw me notice it.
“That’s your fault, you know,” He declared in a low voice, touching my locks of hair hanging below my cheeks. “You have no idea how much I missed you…and just how much I wanna take you right now,” He said as he eyed on my body. “But first, I’d like to take you out on a proper date.” It made me smile hearing that from him.
“Okay, Lahey,” I said sweetly and kissed him again. “I’ll go out with you.”
I attended to the cooking I left a while ago and made us dinner. We caught up like our usual selves over dinner, except that we couldn’t keep our hands apart. We slept in his room pretty late. We stayed in bed for hours, just talking, reminiscing about our friendship. He kept me in his arms all night, my head laying on his shoulder, our hands remained intertwined; as if there was no tomorrow.
Bonus Chapter
@bojabee @jurrasicpork @chiamilia @thejourneyofabrokenheart @sav625 @mylittlenarnia
#isaac lahey#isaac lahey imagine#isaac lahey x reader#teen wolf#teen wolf imagine#teen wolf x reader#tw#scott mccall#stiles stilinski
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dark souls
an analysis of every game in the dark souls series by a big fan, but not a fan-boy. someone who isn't so clouded by toxic competitiveness and false pride that they can't see the obvious flaws. a sorta guide for the average person so they can enjoy all the great things souls has to offer, while avoiding the substantial amount of garbage that 95% of players will genuinely hate.
tl;dr - play ds3 or bb first. they’re the best and most fair. maybe watch playthroughs of others to see if you can handle the series’ flaws. a more detailed, WAY longer write-up is underneath the readmore cut!
- souls games from best to worst -
1. dark souls 3
GOOD: best souls, best action, great aesthetics, best mixture of everything series did right, best starter game, most fair, least issues.
BAD: broken early game co-op due to smurf invaders ruining it for everyone. still has issues that are in every souls games like no offline pausing and artificial difficulty.
2. bloodborne
GOOD: fresh new take on souls, made the action better, fair difficulty, souls for people who don’t care about tolkien fantasy, another great starter souls.
BAD: confusing multiplayer, shorter than most souls, aesthetic direction limited variety of everything, “chalice dungeons” suck.
3. dark souls 2
GOOD: co-op is the BEST in all of souls, fixed many difficulty and balancing issues brought in by ds1, not a miyazaki game but that can be a good thing sometimes.
BAD: without co-op is probably worse than demon’s tbh, rigid laggy combat, kinda linear compared to ds1, not a miyazaki game and you can tell.
4. demon’s souls
GOOD: really started it all and deserves the credit, short but sweet, weirdly happy but still evil aesthetics, feels like a fun set of obstacle courses, many ways to mitigate the difficulty.
BAD: horrible co-op, confusing mechanics, comparatively too short, almost level-based which takes away from exploration, “world tendency” isn’t great, still very rough around the edges.
5. dark souls 1
GOOD: best aesthetics/music/characters/world/lore of any souls, originated souls exploration, plenty of secrets and replayability, HUGE game, the fan favorite, the deepest levels of masochists will love the abuse from this game, an exploit in all versions to “cheat” and help mitigate the bullshit.
BAD: almost not worth playing due to insane cheapness and difficulty right from the start, the fanbase of ds1 is so toxic and horrible and elitist i have to include it, “ornstein and smough”, “curse”, even the world exploration is frustrating in this one, i have never labeled a game as “abusive” until now, is so broken that i have to include a cheat as a fix.
6. dark souls 2 on ps4
GOOD: a remixed version of ds2 that manages to feel very different, way better visuals and 60fps, potential for co-op paradise with ability to play through all of ds2 with 3 friends simultaneously (i wanna try thisss).
BAD: worst souls, least fun single player of the whole series by far, most of the balance and fairness brought in by vanilla ds2 is gone, literally patched balanced bosses to break them and make them artificially unfair, feels like a sloppy ds2 fanmod made by a ds1 purist, combat seems even laggier than the original, as much as i hate on ds1 at least it was a fully original game, just go play the other versions unless you’re desperate.
THE READMORE
this will kinda be in order of release. one last thing to note before starting the series is that souls IS inherently cheap and unfair by design. even avoiding most of the worst parts and doing extensive research won't save you from all of it. the concept of souls is that wasting your time retrying parts isn’t enough of a punishment for errors. the creators wanna really hurt you. and they refuse to include difficulty settings! but imo some of the pain is worth it tho, because the storytelling, world exploration, and aesthetics might be better than any game in the last ten years. and highly competitive, “i wanna prove myself” types will eat this gameplay up. this is like if castlevania symphony of the night and silent hill had an incredible but problematic baby.
demon's souls: GOOD!
a gorgeous, tough, medium-sized game that really started it all. rough around the edges, but so cool! don't skip this one. this is like your favorite band right before they hit it big. it's still hard, but a lot of the difficulty can be dealt with by choosing an overpowered starting class (royal), and grinding for levels and healing items. the aesthetics are through the roof. it's somehow a happier game than any other souls, which makes it stand out imo! sadly no expansions for this game. i'd have loved more!
there's some bad stuff for sure though. like having to keep track of inventory carry weight. and other things that became staples of the souls series but are really horrible design. like inability to pause even offline. plentiful cheap traps and "gotcha" guess and check mechanics everywhere. super easy to accidentally attack an npc and literally break an entire playthrough. horrible autosaving. confusing awful multiplayer. forced invasions by (usually) smurf players who aren't looking for a fair fight. i'd say "play this one offline" but sadly the servers just went down for good so you don't really have a choice anymore.
it's also comparatively short. maybe a third the size of ds1. maybe even less. and the whole "world tendency" mechanic is just... so so confusing. meaning most players will miss out on a ton of content. it was a cool idea, but it just kinda didn't work with how they did it. too much research required for too little reward. in it's defense, that made the whole game feel very mysterious? idk even with the issues it's still a fav.
dark souls 1: TERRIBLE!
i have a lot to say about this one. it's a bit sad, because truth be told this has THE best style and THE best lore and THE best music THE best characters and THE best world design of any souls. aesthetically, this is the pinnacle. it's also a HUGE game with tons of replayability and hidden stuff everywhere. it even has dlc that's really really cool! as far as world exploration goes, this had my favorite part in any souls game ever ("under the tree").
BUT... you have to actually play the game to see all that, and that's the problem. it's just not fun to play unless you're an insane masochist and don't value your time. they kicked up enemy numbers like crazy, made the ai way smarter, REMOVED grinding for health items, and made grinding for levels not that effective at all. everything in this game is tedious work. escapism that's harder than real life? no thanks. there's artificial difficulty walls everywhere you turn, usually in the form of bosses.
seriously the bosses in ds1 are the worst. think of a normal tough game. take that difficult last boss fight. imagine you're now fighting three of those final bosses simultaneously (stun-lock included). now imagine that fight is at the start of the game. and that's the benchmark of ds1's bosses. they aren't ALL that impossible, but a lot of them are. there's this one particular boss fight, "ornstein and smough", that is by far the most misplaced, unfair, stupid boss fight i've ever seen in any game ever. whoever developed it is truly a moron.
i almost forgot about the “curse” status effect! about half way into the game, you’ll run into this. it requires an expensive and rare consumable item to deal with it. it’s very easy to miss these until it’s too late. why am i bringing this all up? because not only does curse kill you almost instantly, you respawn with half your health missing until you heal it. imagine all your hard work leveling, all gone to waste from just a single status effect. and this is before teleporting between bonfires was just a part of souls games from the start, so even if you figure out where to go to heal it, you still need to slog through some of the worst areas with half max health to get to them. and then there’s always the risk of getting cursed again when you go back? big issue, because most likely where you’re at in the game the curse removing items aren’t unlimited. bad bad bad bad baaad design.
but, thankfully, there's a way around all these issues. kinda. CHEAT! there's an exploit that lets you consume boss souls an unlimited amount of times even on consoles. it still takes a while to do. it's not instant god mode. on the contrary, the game is still super hard even if you're over-leveled. by doing this, ds1 will feel more fair, like the other souls games. you'll have way more fun.
i NEVER cheat in games normally, but cheating in ds1 takes a bad, horribly flawed game and fixes it. you may hate cheating, but this is more like ripping off an evil casino or like the mob without taking any risk, since the game is so so so unfair to begin with. if you don't wanna cheat, i'd say play the first parts and then watch a playthrough of the rest. the deepest levels of toxic elitist souls fanboys absolutely WORSHIP this game. don't listen to them. even the creator himself has moved away from a lot of this games bullshit.
dark souls 2: GREAT!
those same souls fanboys i just mentioned? hate this game. because it's noticeably easier. because it made co-op viable. because their impossible game was suddenly moderately more accessible to everyone else. it's still super tough, super cool, super beautiful. the original creator may have stepped down from this one to do bloodborne, but it's still DEFINITELY souls. and it's an overall better game than ds1 by a long shot simply because your ticket to fun doesn't come at such an unreasonable cost. oh and omg they added back grindable healing items! they also removed the STUPID tutorial area/mandatory boss fight before you can level that every other souls has. and just a lot of the other player-unfriendly changes made between demon's (des) and ds1 have been sorta reversed.
it might seem weird but, since the game is comparatively unpopular, it keeps the majority of toxic soul elitists from playing. the kind of people who get off smurf invading so they can bully others? to stomp new players so they can feel misplaced joy in their otherwise pathetic, purposeless existences? yeah not really here thank god! most invaders are regular people looking for competition, and usually even have a good sense of humor.
outside of that making online totally do-able in this one, it makes online co-op really fairly easy. in comparison to des and ds1, i mean. it's still unintuitive silly bullshit, but imo in this one it's SUPER worth it. amazingly fun! get a good friend. play through the entire game together! a++++. just make sure to keep that soul level similar to each other!!!
there are bad things tho. the single player isn't nearly as good as cooping through the whole thing. the aesthetics aren't quite as good as ds1. the exploration is kinda worse. the gameplay feels weirdly sluggish sometimes too. it's just insanely tanky. people that wanted "dark souls 2: more dark souls 1" would be a bit put off by this bc it was more like how ds1 was to demon's souls. unconnected in lore. imo i kinda liked that but... still. it's biggest flaw was it's lesser story/lore polish compared to the other games.
oh, and while the dlc zones (THREE whole big dlc this time!) are pretty cool, the bosses are just crazy tough to the point of not being fun. still worth getting the dlc for the awesome levels, but the bosses were disappointing in their frustration.
dark souls 2 ps4: THE WORST!
this is a sorta weird one, but it deserves it's own little analysis. theoretically, this should've been really cool. a tougher, remixed version of ds2 with dlc included and better graphics/framerate. tbh the game IS beautiful. some if the little touches and changes, while subtle on the surface, completely change how you path through the entire game. it's what "zelda oot master quest" WISHES it could be. also, theoretically, you can play co-op with up to three other people this time (was two before)! neat!!
*should have been neat. because their "remixed enemy placement" really just added way more way tougher enemies. made everything insanely harder. certain bosses that were tough but fun before now just devastate you with no explanation. imagine a shoddy fanmod made by a ds1 fanboy "to fix the casual play". that's what this feels like.
ds2 rode a fine line between cheapness and fairness before, but now all the balance is gone. frustrating annoying bullshit. if you're that kind of ds1 masochist i mentioned before, this is the ds2 for you. everyone else should stay the fuck away. just replay the ps3 version again. i suspect the reason it's like this is they balanced it around the ability to have 3 people helping you at all times? which is idiotic. bc the co-op was a way to compensate for the super hard bosses and invasions. but if you then raise the bar like that, it'd make any single player parts totally unfair. which is exactly what happened. btw i only played the dlc on ps4 and not on ps3, so maybe that's why i was wishy-washy about it?
had they included both the original enemy arrange of ds2 WITH this one, it woulda been cool. but as it stands now it's a much worse version of ds2 for more money. no thanks.
bloodborne: AMAZING!
it's so odd to me. people kinda ignored des compared to ds1. they didn't like how ds2 was it's own thing compared to ds1 (see a pattern???)... but then the most drastically different souls game comes out, and almost everyone unifies and loves it. but i'm not complaining, i love it too!
suddenly super fast paced action in comparison. jrr tolkien replaced by hp lovecraft. a smaller game with more polish. it's great! some of the reactionary gameplay was traded for rewarding aggression and risk. but truth be told, that made the game easier. imo bb was the easiest souls game at that point by far. might still be?
but that's not a bad thing, because souls games are so inherently hard and cheap, that the "easiest" souls ends up being the most balanced and fun. the gameplay is just so much more responsive and better than any souls ever came close to being. as much as i missed shields, it was just better. no more slow responses. gameplay feels more like an action game "should".
tho there are a few flaws here too. there are still a few unfair bosses. not like ds1 or ds2dlc... but just the same, they kept up the annoying trend of moderately difficult and insanely interesting/fun world navigation, but with bosses as disproportionately difficult brick walls in your way of the game you really wanna play. the co-op was the most confusing souls co-op yet, to the point i've never even done it (thus could be all on me but still).
there's a whole big (technically optional) chunk of the game called "chalice dungeons", which should've been this amazing roguelike maze of seemingly endless exploration. think souls meets diablo. but it ended up more like the most boring (and often cheap) repetitive thing you've ever done in a souls game. the assets uses to make the random dungeons were too few and so every dungeon felt kinda the same. and they locked a bunch of REALLY good content behind this dungeon slog. i'd say use em for a bit of grinding and then ignore em completely.
my last little complaint, and i'm torn on this, is actually something i praised before. the aesthetics. in all other souls, even though it was "knights n dragons", there was a TON of variety. bright, beautiful locations. dark, evil places. alien landscapes. bizarre abstract things. legend of zelda. silent hill. but in bb, it's mostly just dark. everybody wears edgy black. it's all the same. the weapons and outfits are way more limited. it's more focused for sure, but there's just... less of everything. but souls is a confusing complicated nightmare of gear management, so this might be a good thing to some people.
dark souls 3: THE BEST!
this is it. the best souls. they combined the greatest parts of every souls game into one. the amazing combat of bb, but with all the customization and variety of the other souls. the good kind of lore that was in ds1. it's actually the lore sequel to ds1 that everybody wanted, all while being it's own thing as well. there's even a weird aspect of navigation simplicity like des had? oh and it's possibly the easiest souls yet. they even removed soul memory to make co-op way easier! just everything is more intuitive.
a wide variety of aesthetics and locations. a "best of souls" while having it's own unique things. the "weapon abilities" feature is great. everything was polished and optimized. if this truly is the last souls game they'll make, then they went out on the highest note.
okay but now here's the flaws, lol. the removal of soul memory, while it should have made co-op simple and fixed it in comparison, it actually created a whole new HUGE issue. it made things so so easy for smurf invaders. in the earliest areas, you can't take more than a few steps in co-op before some loser with a obv troll name pops into your game and takes almost no damage whatsoever. you won't beat them. they're cheating.
smurfing via high end gear to this level is cheating. there's no other way to look at it. nobody would call an ant vs an elephant a fair fight. so to save time and resources that you need to play online (it's complicated), you have the host disconnect. and then you try again. it's tedious. i'm sure it's made countless new players just give up on co-op completely, and maybe even the whole game. souls smurfs are all so pathetic like i genuinely wish they would find a way to ban them. this is the biggest issue.
another thing is it's sorta linear. maybe even more so than ds2. it's not awful like i think there are more branches than bb but still it's definitely no ds1 in that regard. there are also a few cheap bosses. "nameless king" (optional), "sister" (end dlc thus optional), and "dlc dragon" (forgot his name but double optional). i also think "dancer" (mandatory) is a bit bullshit, but it's also really cool so...
the first dlc, while looking very cool, is kinda tiny and lackluster. it does have amazing npcs/lore... but as stated before, the final boss of it is awful. souls boss formula at it's worst. the second dlc is MUCH better, with maybe my favorite end bossfight in all of souls. it's so hard, but fair. they made the garbage secret bossfight in this dlc thankfully optional. oh and the dlc itself is beautiful and large. and very fitting in regards to lore.
it's kinda hard to not mix in good with the bad on this game. i genuinely love it. most of the typical souls bullshit is easier to avoid, but it doesn't take anything away from the good parts. if you played one souls game, play ds3.
well that's it. srry if it was too long. tried to make it as short as i could. i'm sure i forgot a few points, but i'll rant about this stuff even more extensively in my ds3 letsplay i'm sure. thanks for reading! hope it helped people interested in getting into souls!!
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