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obsidiancreates · 9 months

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Gray Area (Remastered 4 years later)

(I originally wrote Gray Area in June of 2019 when I was but a little 15 year old, and figured well, why not remaster it for Good Omens Season 2? If you're unfamiliar with the original fic, it's an AU where the two never swapped places at the end of Season 1 and their punishments result in the discovery that they're truly On Their Own Side. Figured it'd be a nice little Balm on the fandom right now, heh.)

———————————————————————————————————–

It should be a happy occasion.

The Earth is safe. Adam renounced his powers, his no-longer-father, his role in the Apocalypse. The Plan was halted. The humans were all free to go about their lives, continuing on as if nothing happened, because as far as most of them knew nothing had. As a good, selfless, caring angel, Aziraphale should be happy.

Instead, he's using all of his self-control to keep from falling apart.

He knew there'd be punishment. They both knew. But somehow, it had escaped his realization that their punishments would part himself and Crowley. It's not as if he's unused to them being parted, but...

But he has a feeling that this time, they may not return to each other. For the first time in six thousand years, he truly feels... their last moments together have come and gone.

Even as these feelings twist and gnaw inside of him, he keeps his head held high. He won't allow Gabriel and the others to have the satisfaction of seeing him fall apart. He has no regrets about saving the earth, and he will make that clear to them.

He's sure Crowley is doing the same- in his own way, of course. But the sentiment is probably the same, or at least quite similar.

He does hope they haven't tied Crowley to the same kind of chair, though. His own is terribly uncomfortable. The chairs in Heaven always are. It's plain, it's stark-white, it's all angles, and just from sitting on it he can tell it's some kind of hollow design made to make him feel unsupported. Alone. Abandoned.

All it makes him feel is an aching wish for his bookshop and it's comfortable seats.

The room is much like the chair. White, empty, uncomfortable. Heaven is consistent, if not pleasant. Perhaps it should bother him, how the bright light of the empty room sears into his eyes, too bright, too blazing. The light of Heaven, of the Almighty herself, causing an Angel discomfort to gaze upon.

But he's never liked this light, not since he discovered other forms of it. He prefers warm, soft lighting, filtered in through dusty windows or cast by a flickering candle.

Maybe he's not a proper angel, then. The thought twists him up inside even more, scraping away in his chest. Why isn't he? Aren't angels meant to care, to heal, to spread good wherever they go? Aren't they meant to protect, to watch over, to love?

If doing so make him an improper angel... well, perhaps that's for the best. Even if the idea still feels wrong.

... A proper angel probably wouldn't care so deeply for a demon, either.

Crowley. Aziraphale is sure he himself it to be killed for his actions. He knows Crowley was sure he'd be facing the same. How is still a mystery. These are to be their last moments, their final thoughts, their final sights.

With this realization, the light becomes upsetting for a new reason.

He's facing his final moments, and instead of his beloved bookshop or dearest friend, companion, the one being who truly knew and understood him-

Instead of anything Aziraphale was fond of, the final thing he'll see is some overexposed angels smirking at him.

———————————————————————————————————–

It was never going to be a truly happy occasion.

He'd known it from the moment he'd been given the baby. That even if he and Aziraphale stopped The Apocalypse, someone would be held responsible. And then things got more complicated, and they had to become more direct, and many humans got involved-

And now Crowley stands in a dark, dingy room, the sound of flickering half-dead fluorescents mixing with the sound of Beelzebub's flies, the murmur of hundreds of demons pressed into the small viewing space behind a window as Crowley stands before the demons just waiting for his demise.

He ignores the smell, the damp moldy musk mixing with rot of all kinds both earthly and not. If he's to die, truly and completely, he'll at least try to ruin the moment for the rest of them.

He hopes Aziraphale is doing the same, up above. He must be. He's enough of a bastard to, deep down, and if there's ever a moment to allow that to shine through it's now.

And so Crowley smirks, just a bit, just enough to see Hastur's mouth twitch into a scowl (well, a deeper scowl).

"Nice place here. Bit bare, though." Crowley looks around. "And Angel said I was minimalist."

"We built this place for you specially," Beelzebub says. "It shall be your of trial, and it shall be your place of destruction."

"Not much of a trial," Crowley mutters. Not that he's surprised. "What'll it be, then? An eternity in the deepest pit?"

He knows it won't be. They're all far too excited for it to be as simple as that.

Hastur all but confirms it with the cruelly gleeful grin that makes it's way onto his face. He's relishing in this, the sheer enjoyment just oozing from him. It's so potent that Crowley finds himself leaning away a bit, trying to physically escape the way it seems to seep from Hastur's very being.

"No, no. We're going to do something even worse. Letting the punishment fit the crime."

What the hell is that supposed to mean? What kind of punishment fits his crime? They didn't plan for someone stopping the Apocalypse, and even if they did they couldn't have planned for how it was stopped.

And then Crowley hears footsteps.

They're coming from the single tight hallway he'd been lead down mere moments ago. They're quick, purposeful, and the shoes sound far too nice to be in Hell. For all the purpose in the sound of the stride, though, there's something that can't be hidden. The steps are quick not just in a way that says Efficiency, but in a way that screams discomfort.

It's almost intriguing, really. Crowley turns to look at the entrance to his trial room.

And watches Archangel Micheal step through.

"Well, that's unlikely." The words spring forth from his mouth before he even knows they're coming.

And his eyes flick down to something in Micheal's hands.

A pitcher.

Holy water. So that's what Hastur means. It must've been his idea.

Crowley is to die by holy water, his transgression so great not only in Hell's eyes, but Heaven's as well. It's unsurprising, truly, but as he watches Micheal step closer to the bathtub he'd really thought was just a sign they'd hastily redecorated a bathroom something dawns on him.

Heaven and Hell are working together on his punishment. Which means it's possible that they're working together for...

“What have you done with Aziraphale?” The words are seethed, but desperate. He knows, and yet he can't help himself.

And he hears Beelzebub laugh. “You two seemed so desperate not to live without each other-”

“-That we decided to do you both a favor and ensure you don't have to,” Micheal interrupts. They look at Crowley with a cruel glint in their eye. "Call it mercy."

“And we thought it would kill you to know your little lover boy was going to die because of you,” Beelzebub adds. Honesty, more honest than the angel, but not because it's right, because it's painful.

Crowley watches Micheal fill the tub with holy water, and only one thought runs through his mind.

Aziraphale is up there, alone, and going to die.

Aziraphale is going to die.

———————————————————————————————————-

“Ah, Aziraphale.” Gabriel’s voice booms out from behind. He strides into Aziraphale's eyeline, taking his place between and slightly in front of Uriel and Sandalphon. Aziraphale does his best not to glare, because if he's going to die then he's going to die with dignity. These angel think him wrong for finding Earth, humans, and so much more worth saving. They think him a bad angel for it.

He won't allow them the pleasure of anything they may take as evidence they're right.

... Of course, pointing out some ineffective choices in their retrieval of him is only... right, to do. Helpful, even. As a good angel is.

So Aziraphale looks Gabriel in the eye and says, “You could have just sent a message. A kidnapping, in broad daylight?”

He can almost feel Crowley's approval, hear the proud insistence that Aziraphale is a bastard deep down. Perhaps, if he keeps this up, he'll be able to visualize Crowley again before he's executed.

But Gabriel doesn't react. He just turns to Uriel and asks, "Have we heard from our new associate?"

"He's on his way."

Gabriel grins, a bright souless grin that fits all too perfectly with the room around them. "He's on his way." He looks at Aziraphale, even crouches a bit, getting close. "I bet you're going to like this. I really do! And I bet, you didn't see this one coming."

If he hadn't before, he does now. The glee, the bragging, the sheer arrogant nature of it all.

Hellfire. They've gotten ahold of hellfire.

And if they've gotten ahold of hellfire...

Micheal is absent from this.

Aziraphale's heart drops. Crowley.

An exchange. He and Crowley worked together to save the world, angel and demon on the same team. Now Heaven and Hell copy them, angels and demons, to kill them both.

“You don’t get this view down in the basement!” a voice calls out. A demon walks, walks over. Simply steps on the grounds of Heaven, unharmed, given special privileges. A demon allowed into Heaven to kill and angel just for love.

The demon throws his hands out. Hellfire shoots out from them, hitting a small circle on the floor and bursting into a great blaze! The fire shoots up and twists, curls, forming a tornado of demonic flames in the middle of Heaven itself. Aziraphale can feel the heat from where he sits, so close he could swear his hair begins to singe.

Gabriel stands a safe distance away. "So, with one act of treason, you avoided the war. You ruined our entire plan, everything we've worked for, for six thousand years."

Gabriel is doing a much poorer job of keeping his anger in check than Aziraphale is his own emotions. Perhaps he's just less used to them. Perhaps he just doesn't care.

Aziraphale knows what he says next could push Gabriel over the edge. But he's about to die anyway, and it needs to be said. "Well, I think the greater good-"

“Don’t talk to me about the greater good sunshine, I’m the Archangel fucking Gabriel!”

“We’re meant to be the good guys, for heaven’s sake!” Aziraphale lets his desperation, his disgust, his disappointment pour out with the words.

“Well, for Heaven’s sake, we’re meant to make examples out of traitors. So, into the flame.”

The ropes tying him to the chair fall.

Aziraphale stands.

He'd never be ale to make a run for it, and they know it. He'd be caught, brought back, and they'd get a little laugh, a bit of spectacle. They won't be getting it from him.

He straightens his bowtie. He tries not to think about Crowley, down in the dank, dark puts of Hell, likely facing down an execution by holy water, mocked and tormented as he's pushed or prodded into a deadly vat of something meant to be pure, to be clarifying, renewing.

Humans are so hopeful. They believe in such beautiful things. Aziraphale envys them for the countless, and perhaps final, time.

He swallows. "Well... lovely knowing you all. May we... meet on a better occasion." He gives them a slight smile.

"Shut your stupid mouth, and die already." Gabriel return the smile with no remorse, no reflection. Just emptiness for show.

Aziraphale's smile falls away.

He looks into the fire.

May we meet on a better occasion, Crowley.

He closes his eyes and steps into the flames.

———————————————————————————————————-

Micheal could have simply Miracle'd the bathtub full. But they're here for the spectacle of it, he's sure. The Snake Of The Garden OF Eden, the one who caused the Original Sin and Hell's greatest disappointment, and now the reason an angel is allowed into Hell just for an execution.

He's not sure who they've sent up to hell. He wants to grab Micheal, to demand they take him there, to snatch Aziraphale away (if he's even still in the universe) and take them both as far away as possible.

But he can't. Instead, he stands, watching the tub slowly fill, hearing Micheal assure the water is the holiest it can be, watching Hastur test the claim for the whole crowd to see with a demon who stood in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

Micheal leaves. Crowley imagines whoever went up to Heaven will want to stay and watch. Maybe Micheal wants to stay and watch as well, but can't stand the sight and smell of Hell anymore. It's a cruel thing to subject anyone too, and crueler still to make someone have their final moments in.

Cruelty is Hell's specialty, after all. But Crowley thinks Micheal would fit right in if it weren't for that blindingly white outfit. That's all that separates them from the demons watching Crowley now, really.

Beelzebub looks almost bored as they lean on their shoddy throne. "Demon Crowley, I sentence you to extinction by holy water. Have you anything to say?"

He has a lot to say. Most of it cussing them out, some of it shaming, some of it just insults he's held back for thousands of years just to keep himself off their radar. But none of that will be satisfying now.

None of it matters.

His Angel is up there, facing down the same thing he is. Putting on a brave, probably irritatingly polite face, if he's feeling the same sense of Meaninglessness that Crowley is now.

So he takes a deep breath. He thinks of Aziraphale, so he can enjoy his last moments. He hopes his Angel is giving Heaven a rough time, at least somewhat.

"This is a new jacket," Crowley ends up saying, really just to have something to say. "And I'd hate to ruin it."

They let him take it off, and his pants, and his shoes. He keeps on his undergarments and his socks, and stares down into the water. After a moment, he takes off his glasses too.

This is it.

This is the end.

He's heard humans have their loves flash before their eyes. He wouldn't mind if he experienced that now. As long as it's mostly the times he spent with his Angel.

"Go on already," Beelzebub says, still sounding bored. "Or I'll have Hastur push you in."

You were more than enough of a bastard to be worth knowing, Crowley thinks.

And he gets in.

———————————————————————————————————-

Agony.

Agony, burning, excruciating pain. The feeling of every atom of one's being, burning, being destroyed, destroyed so totally and so completely that barely even a memory remains.

Aziraphale had expected stepping into Hellfire to be all of that and worse.

... Yet, instead, it feels rather like... a sauna.

A badly managed sauna, one that's a bit too hot to be truly relaxing and instead tips into unpleasant, but nonetheless no more than a sauna. It's so close to being nice, in fact, that he cracks his neck and allows himself to imagine that's what it is for a moment, sighing.

When it's more than a couple of seconds, he opens his eyes, a bit surprised to find he still has eyes to open. He can't complain about it, though. They open to the wickedly amusing sight of Gabriel, Uriel, and Sandalphon all staring, and gaping.

And all quite a bit further away than when he'd initially stepped in.

He smiles at them. They step back further.

Gabriel holds up a shaking hand, pointing in disbelief. "It... may be worse than we thought."

Aziraphale shifts his shoulders, his wings feeling especially warm, even stinging now. He shifts them again, trying to stretch them, bringing them in so he can get a look at the damage-

Damaged, perhaps.

But not ruined.

His wings smolder at the tips, the feathers smoking yet remaining whole. The Hellfire licks at his feathers, singeing them, burning, and yet seemingly unable to consume them. The smoke seems to almost stain them, and yet staining is the worst he can see.

In fact, it's not even that bad. The white of his wings is gone. The outermost tips continue to smolder and darken, yet never growing darker than the smoke itself, never fully blackening. Higher up the feathers are a soft, delicate gray, the kind of gray he might chose for a pillow to put in Crowley's favorite chair in the bookshop. And between the two it's a gradient, a gradual shift from one to the other.

He stares for a long, long moment. They're so different now. So un- angelic.

And yet... he rather likes them.

And as it dawns on him that he's not dying, not in the least, and that he might even be able to stand in this hellfire for hours and continue to live, well-

Well, if he's okay-

Aziraphale looks up, and beams. "It seems that The Almighty has other ideas for me." Perhaps untrue, perhaps truer than he believes, and he'll truly never know, but that doesn't matter. The angels staring at him in horror likely believe it, and that's good enough. "I was feeling a bit chilly in here, it's much colder than I remembered it being, so thank you. For the fire."

The only sound is that of the roaring, raging fire he still stands in the center of.

"May I... take my leave now?"

Gabriel nods, slowly, mouth parted just slightly, just enough to show his universe-rattling shock. "I think that would be best."

Aziraphale smiles at him once more and steps out of the fire, his smoke-stained wings flared around him.

"Thank you."

———————————————————————————————————-

After what he'd seen in his apartment, Crowley had expected it to be quick. Painful, searing, an agony unlike anything he'd ever felt. But still, quick.

Now he sits in the tub, all eyes on him in horror, and he can't help the way it brings him a sort of glee. He raised his arm from the water and flicks it at the window separating him from the populous of Hell, their screams of alarm and the sizzling of the unholy glass drowned out by his sharp laugh.

He's fine.

His skin is a bit red, irritated, like a sunburn or a heat-rash. But those are minor, minor, as he sits in the tub of holy water and all of Hell watches him swish it around like it's nothing.

He looks over at his executioners. "I don't suppose anyone here has a rubber duck?"

Hastur is practically cowering behind Beelzebub's throne, eyes wide, mouth agape in complete disbelief. Beelzebub and Dagon aren't much better off, keeping a great distance between themselves and Crowley's almost carefree splashing and flicking. Crowley is not as cruel as the other demons, not by a long shot, but that doesn't mean he's not enjoying the show as he flicks water at the window once more.

"He's not one of us, anymore." Beelzebub can't hide the tremor in their voice.

Crowley lifts his wings out of the tub in the grandest splash yet, making the demons in the room with him shout out and back up as far as possible! He allows himself a little smile, a little smirk, bringing his wings back down to cradle him so they can fit in the tub-

And as they come into view, his smile drops. Not out of fear, but surprise.

His wings are different.

The deepest black of Hell is gone. He holds the tip of one wing closer to examine it. It's hard to tell the exact shade in the dim lighting of the room, but he knows, without a doubt, that his feathers are now gray.

A dark gray, a gray like a stormcloud rolling in from the seaside, but gray all the same. And there the holy water gathers and rolls down, droplets of it making their way off of his wings and back into the tub, they leave behind streaks of even lighter grays in their wake. Some streaks are only slightly lighter in color, while others are nearly white (but not white, not truly), and more than that are streaks of an almost silver shade, glistening and glimmering, perhaps from the water, perhaps from something else.

Hastur makes a sound like he's choking on a scream. Beelzebub seizes the moment of Crowley's distraction to rush to the window.

"What are you looking at! Nothing to see here, nothing to see!"

They shoo the crowd of demons away, keeping one eye on Crowley at all times. He's done splashing, now. He looking into the water, still as clear as ever. Not a drop of discoloration, as though he wasn't even sitting within it.

A demon sitting in holy water, unharmed. Though perhaps, not a demon. Not anymore.

And if a demon can survive a bath of holy water and come out as the same, yet something else...

Perhaps an angel can survive a bath of Hellfire in the very same way.

"I've come for the- oh, Lord." Micheal freezes in the mouth of the hallway.

Crowley turns to look at them, grinning, newly washed wings sloshing the water out of the tub and making Beelzebub scream and scramble further away. "Micheal! Miracle me up a bath towel, would you?"

"I-I don't- how are you-"

"Oh, it's been a wonderful bath," Crowley says, grinning in a way that's sharp, satisfied, the last word nearly a hiss. "But I think I'm done now."

Micheal, still in shock, does hand over a bath towel. It's pure white, fluffed in the way only a brand-new bath towel can be. As Crowley reaches out to grab it and splashes even more water onto the now ever-sizzling ground, she instinctively jumps away.

He still manages to grab the towel.

"I think," he says, standing, letting the water run harmlessly off of him, "That it would be best if I was left alone for a while."

All who remain, demon and angel alike, nod silently.

Crowley gets out, dries off, and tosses his towel towards the cluster of demons huddled at the farthest back corner of the room, and saunters out with his clothes and a quick sharp smile at Micheal.

And as soon as he's far enough away, he rushes back to Earth.

———————————————————————————————————-

Aziraphale takes a moment to lean against the door of his shop once he's inside. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, sliding down to the floor.

With a quick miracle (how he's still capable of them, who is allowing them, he as no idea anymore) the door locks and the window curtains shut.

Alone, in the privacy of his shop, his home, he brings out his wings to look at in light he knows.

They're...

They're beautiful. Truly, beautiful. The darkened edges, the smoothness of the gradient, the lightest feathers at the highest point being so pale but still so clearly gray, not a bit of white to be seen yet not a bit of black either, so blended. They gleam as light hits them, shining almost like silver, but without direct light they look soft, simple, and they seem to match his bookshop now in a way they hadn't before.

They are also not, the wings of an angel.

But they aren't the winds of a demon, either.

They're something Different entirely, and... he quite likes that about them. More than he expected to.

And if he's right...

He stands and quickly moves to the phone, still shaking ever so slightly as he picks up the handset of his phone and begins to dial Crowley's number, and shaking worse with each number added.

If he's wrong, if Crowley hadn't-

If he's alone now-

He takes another steadying breath. He can't allow himself to think like that, not yet.

He's just one number away from making the call when the door opens, the bell ringing. Only a miracle could unlock it, and Aziraphale's heart soars as a familiar, cherished voice calls out.

"Angel!"

He drops the phone and runs, runs back into the main room. "Crowley!"

And before he knows it, he has the demon- or perhaps not demon- in a hug.

They don't really do this. And Crowley is stiff in the hug at first, frozen, unresponsive.

But after a moment, he hugs back. He's a bit boney, but doesn't matter because he's here. And though they don't really do this, they do now, just holding each other in the entrance of the bookshop for a long, long time.

When they finally pull apart, it's gentle, and they still hold onto each other's arms.

"Angel," Crowley breathes. He reaches up with one hand to remove his glasses, looking Aziraphale in the eyes as he lowers his hand right back to be held and to hold. "I um, I'm... I'm glad you're okay."

"Oh, my dear." Aziraphale's smile is soft, but joyful, and so full of relief and care and love-

"I'm glad you are, too."

They hold each other's stares for another long moment, until Crowley's eyes flick to behind Aziraphale, and the latter realizes he still has his wings out to see. Suddenly Aziraphale feels a panic, almost a shame, as Crowley's expression is unreadable as he takes in Aziraphale's changed wings.

"Ah, yes!" Aziraphale quickly pulls his wings in close to his body. "It ah, it seems the Hellfire had a bit of a... side, effect?" He still can't quite read Crowley's expression. It's relief, shock, perhaps... perhaps a bit sad? No, not sad, but something... something. Something he's not used to seeing. He clears his throat. "I-I quite like them, truthfully." Though the longer this goes on, the less he's sure he does.

Until Crowley nods. "I do too, actually." He meets Aziraphale's eyes again, and one of those small, almost withheld smiles makes it's way onto his face. "And what do you think of mine?"

Crowley's wings unfurl, and Aziraphale gasps. Softly, with awe. If his won wings are beautiful, than Crowley's are gorgeous. They're a dark stunning and almost glimmering dark gray, not unliek the scarf Crowley likes to wear, with streaks of varying shades of lighter gray all throughout. And yet, as the shades vary within his wings, Aziraphale realizes with a bit of something... unknowable, but enjoyable, that the shades in Crowley's wings match the shades in Aziraphale's exactly.

"They're... amazing," he breathes. He looks back into Crowley's eyes, knowing he's probably making the most ridiculus face in his elation, but he doesn't care. "Do you think- well, do you think this is because we're on our own side now? And-and perhaps, She may have had something to do with this?"

"Who knows, Angel? Who care? We're not apart of all that anymore. We can do anything we want now, anything in the world, without worrying about anyone watching us!"

Aziraphale takes in the look on Crowley's face, the freedom, the excitement, and he feels the same feelings in his own heart. "Anything," he repeats. "How about we start... with lunch? At the Ritz?"

And Crowley smiles back, putting his sunglasses back on. "Lunch it is."

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens fic #ineffable husbands #my attempts at fanfic #crowley #anthony j crowley #aziraphale #fanfic

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redrose-arrow · 1 year

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my [shared account’s] spotify wrapped, except it’s only the songs that i listened to exclusively because they remind me of RA

#8: Serenade by BANNERS: the biggest Will and Maddie song, if ever there was one.

#12 It’s Gonna Be OK by BANNERS: hi yes so this was the designated song for George telling Maddie It’s Gonna Be OK after everyone’s died in my Heroes get remembered, but legends never die killing spree.

#15 Missing You by All Time Low: Gilan being a big bro to Will will forever have a special place in my heart

#16 Someone To You by BANNERS: at this point I just love this song, but way back when it was one of many Willyss anthems.

#17 Venus Fly Trap by MARINA: Maddie Maddie Maddie Maddie Maddie Maddie Maddi-

#18 On And On by The Score: hahahahahahahhahaa yes so this was the song I chose for Crowley’s death. anyways.

#21 Viva La Vida by Coldplay: do I even need to explain myself? okay I will- it’s Halt and Ferris and the crown of Clonmel.

#22 Where Do You Run by The Score: I don’t fully remember how and why, but I just got Will vibes.

#24 Home Without A Heart by Blanks: Willyss without me being able to explain why. I just have a vivid memory of thinking about them when I first heard the song.

#25 Half Light by BANNERS: uhhhhh yea so that’s the song I associate with Halt being deathbed sick.

#30 Going Home by The Score: the special task force coming home. I wish we’d seen more of that.

#39 Where The Shadow Ends by BANNERS: look, I just went though a songfic period this spring, and I used this one to write about Cassandra helping Will face his trauma.

#41 Centuries by Fall Out Boy: an oldie but goldie, but like, look me in the eyes and tell me that most of the RA characters do not embody this song. you can’t.

#43 Coming Home by Sheppard: I will not apologise for loving the “coming home” trope so much and using it every. single. chance. I have.

#55 Unsteady by X Ambassadors: ok, I will apologise for the killing spree, but this song was for Will learning of Alyss’s death. I have never been less okay.

#56 Symphony by Sheppard: WILLYSS WILLYSS WILLYSS WILLYSS I’d literally die for them.

#58 Young Volcanoes by Fall Out Boy: my friend once suggested this song for “the wards changing and saving the world” and she’s right.

#61 Ghosts by Banners: will you kill me if I remind you that this song was for Pauline after Halt’s death? because that’s how it ended up here.

#65 Quarter Past Midnight by Bastille: always thinking of the Redmont wards when I hear this.

#68 Got It In You by BANNERS: this one I also used for writing Cassandra telling Will that he’s more than his trauma.

#69 The Anchor by Bastille: Horace trying to help Will, but sometimes it’s awfully hard for Will to believe he can be helped.

#73 Brother by NEEDTOBREATHE and Gavin DeGraw: I am so in love with the found family in RA, istg.

#82 Superheroes by The Script: this has been an appreciation song for Will and Alyss as separate characters and as a couple for literally as long as I can remember.

#86 For the First Time by The Script: remember my whole AU about Alyss going to Gallica with Keren and Will getting her back but they have to built their relationshp from scratch? yeah.

#92 Let Her Go by Passenger: this was one of the first songs I every associated with RA and of course it’s TRR. how could it not be?

#93 Before I Go by Guy Sebastian: I’m a little hesitant to admit that this one is also from my killing spree, but it was the David/Rodney/Arald returning from retirement to save Araluen again which leads to all of their deaths song.

#97 Die Young by Sheppard: life is hard and dangerous but they’re still having fun. you only live once, right?

#seems i have an identifiable music taste #anyways-#ranger's apprentice #rangers apprentice #john flanagan #i feel like this list is incomplete but idk

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solarishashernoseinabook · 2 years

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1. What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who had never read any of your work? (In other words, what do you think is the best introduction to your fics?)

Thank you! Answering them all as one as per usual :3

1. What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who had never read any of your work? (In other words, what do you think is the best introduction to your fics?) Hmmmmmmm that's a good question actually! I think maybe Richard Thompson Learns About Rangers, it's short, fluffy, has worldbuilding and a focus on found family :3

2. Go to your AO3 “Works” page, to the sidebar with all the filters, and click the drop-down arrow for “Additional Tags.” What are your top 3-5 most used tags? Do you think they accurately represent your writing habits? Whelp, we've got fluff (used 12 times), light angst (used 4 times), and angst, injury, and reminiscing (all used 3 times). That's, er, fairly accurate lol. I do be writing a lot of fluff.

3. What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics? I think I mainly focus on character relationships! Not just romantic ones, I take time to build up platonic and familial ones too. And when there's hurt, there's almost always comfort. In fics like The Ward Ghost I spend more time showing recovery from trauma and characters looking after each other than I spend showing the trauma itself, and this goes doubly so for The Royal Ranger - most of the trauma went through as an autistic child raised by unsupportive parents is implied or shown in brief flashbacks, and more of it is about Crowley giving him space to be autistic in an environment that won't punish him for it

11. Are you partial to a certain character/pairing or are you more equal-opportunity? If you are partial to any character/pairing, why do you think that is? Either Will/Horace or Will & Halt lol. I like both the dynamics. It's fun to write Will and Horace in love, and showing Halt being a father and mentor is just great, especially when contrasted with how gruff he is

15. What’s your favourite AU that you’ve written? You're gonna make me choose between my two largest AUs? You're a cruel, cruel person /j

Okay but seriously, I like both The Ward Ghost and The Royal Ranger equally for different reasons. The Ward Ghost asks one simple question - what if Will hadn't gotten his apprenticeship? - and continues on from there. I have to put a lot of thought into what the characters would be like after the six years that have elapsed since, and what canon events I can or can't include, and if I can include them, how. The Royal Ranger is really fun because I get to play with narrative conventions to show how Halt sees the world through an autistic lens. When we're following Halt's POV, for example, I typically barely describe other character's facial expressions or tones of voice, to indicate that he has trouble picking up on them.

23. What’s a trope, AU, or concept you’ve never written, but would like to? I want to write an RA fic featuring predominantly - almost entirely - original characters. I've got it planned, sort of. Built With My Own Two Hands briefly features Will's last apprentices before he retires, identical twins named Joey and Roy, and I had a lot of fun writing them for the couple of paragraphs they appear in.

36. Do you visualize what you read/write? Yeah! A lot of scenes are ones I visualised beforehand so I could plan them out before writing them

50. Answer any question of your choice, or talk about anything you want to talk about! Yay, a choice!

46. Do you prefer writing on your phone or on a computer (or something else)? Do you think where you write affects the way you write?

Okay, firstly, I never trust people who can type easily on phones /j

(in all seriousness tho modern phones are so uncomfortable to type on. No proper tactile feedback - and no, vibration doesn't count - and they're just too big and awkward to hold. The only phone I was able to type comfortably on was my old Blackberry Curve)

I actually most prefer writing by hand, with pen and paper! There's the obvious advantage of not having tumblr on hand to easily check, but it has other perks as well. Without the option to easily delete what I just wrote, I spend less time agonising over phrasing and just get the raw ideas down. If I realise I need to add something to what I've already written, instead of wondering where or thinking of how to transition to it, I just make a note to put it somewhere and continue on. There's a layer of portability to a notebook and pen that laptops don't have, and I don't have to worry about battery life or notifications breaking the flow of writing, and I can curl up more easily to write (which is a huge advantage when you're queer and autistic and can't sit in a chair without curling up). Finally, writing is a tactile stim for me (so's typing, but that depends heavily on the type of keyboard I'm using) so I feel motivated to do it just because! When I go to transcribe it to the computer later, that's when I do my editing.

I also regularly switch back and forth between handwriting and typing my fics - mainly if I get stuck. If I'm stuck typing something, I close my computer, pick up my notebook, and start writing from the last sentence I remember - even if it doesn't gel perfectly with what I already wrote, that's something I can fix later. If I'm well and truly stuck while handwriting, I go to my computer and transcribe what I wrote. Going over it and thinking about it often helps me realise what was causing the issue that stopped me writing - either I didn't set something up properly, or something was happening in the wrong spot in the story, or the character's POV doesn't fit the scene very well.

Link to the ask game if you want to play!

#asks #ask games #fic writer asks

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ambrasue · 2 years

Note

💜🍁

💜

And you make me choose?

I think it probably might be this? From Words Not Written, https://archiveofourown.org/works/32730988

He can’t choose just one, that would be sacrilege. No one coming into a bookstore like this can choose just one book, he is sure of it. It of course has nothing to do with greed, that wouldn’t be very angelic of him, but it is simply the laws of nature. One book, on its own, would be lonely, and he could never subject a book of all things to the feeling of loneliness. That is a burden he carries on his own. Books need to feel treasured, to feel loved, to be taken care of. To be handled gently, cherished, repaired if needed. He is good at loving. Things, people, all creatures great and small, his unnecessary heart beats for them all, for the world. His heart also beats for something else, something that can never be mentioned. Something kept as close as the pages of a book pressed together, a piece of paper slipped inside a treasured tome, words left carefully blank in a notebook for that express purpose. He has filled clay tablets, scrolls, manuscripts and notebooks with the words he cannot write, all carefully left blank and yet containing so very much. His hand has gripped styluses, reed pens, quills and pencils, all hovering above the page, pouring out the words in his heart without ever touching the page.

No, Aziraphale will buy two books. That way they will never be lonely.

🍁

My current WIP is at least moving forward, which is better than a couple of weeks ago. It's an GO human AU, where Aziraphale's name is William (there are reasons).

Sneak peak! (cw bullet wound, but nothing graphic here)

“I need you to drink that while I check the wound.” Pulling on gloves, he gently lifts the bandage on the injury. Crowley hasn’t pulled any stitches at least, but there’s a little bleeding and some irritation at the edges of the wound. William busies his hands with cleaning the wound and re-dressing it, focusing on every step.

“I don’t have to tell you how bad this could have been, do I?”

“No, you don’t.” Crowley lowers the bottle of water from his mouth

“Then why are you not taking better care of yourself?” The frustration threads through William’s voice.

“Come on, it’s not that bad…”

“It is, it is that bad, or it could have been! There are so many variables, anyone of which could have killed you if you had been just a tad bit less lucky!”

“Look, angel, it’s fine…”

William whips his head up, suddenly furious.

“Don’t, do not call me that. You do not get to call me that. You disappeared, and you do not get to just waltz back into my life. I will take care of you because I help people, it’s what I do, but this is not ‘fine’, we are not ‘fine’.” He takes a deep breath and steps away from the bed, away from the man lying on it. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. You need to rest. I’ll get you some food in a little while.” Another deep breath, and he turns to the door to leave, halting at the sound of Crowley’s voice from behind.

“You still haven’t said my name, William.”

“I know.” The blond man straightens his back before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

#good omens #fanfic #fanfic asks #current wip #writers #human au #ireallyneedanameforthis

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lifeofroos · 3 years

Text

Masterlist of retellings/fanworks:

This list is seperated by category, with a short summary of each story beneath the title. The older the story, the higher it is listed in the category. So for the newest, probably best stories, look at the very end!

Greek Mythology:

Much too lovely a night for commitment:

Apollo got himself drunk (Or, as he calls it, ‘a little tipsy’). Dionysus decides its time for him to take a break and they end up talking.

I am not necesserialy asking for your blessing (But I'd love to get it):

Artemis' afternoon rest is disrupted by Ariadne, who has something to say. Artemis doesn't necessarily disagree, but...

The Night:

Ariadne wandered far into the forest at night. It makes Dionysus nervous, but she can't help but feel calm and in love.

Vultures:

Vultures, Athena called them. Enyo and Ares take a break from battle in the encampment. They have to kindly disagree with their sister.

Ghost Story:

Ariadne is awoken one night by a ghost girl named Cora. They keep meeting again and again, through different stages in their lives.

The girl who likes dogs:

Hades needs someone to walk his dog a few days per week. He asks Persephone to do it, as she walks more people's dogs. Yet, that might not be the only reason he asked her...

Back:

Dionysus thought it would be impossible to get his beloved Ariadne back. When she is there again, in front of him, he thinks it can't be real. There is no way he can just hold her now, and love her again...

The Queenly Ghost:

Ariadne raises the spirit of Pasiphae, her mother. Although she isn't sure exactly what to say, she knows she has to say something.

I Hope For The Future:

Hades comes to the surface for a moment to have a chat with Demeter. They are still new to their domains and it is unsure who their allies will be. They hope it'll be each other.

The Story Of Tonight:

They should have held back Artemis, Apollo and Hermes before they climbed onto the buffet table. Now that they are already drunkenly singing, it is a little too late, don't you think?

I’ve Got A Proposal:

Usually, Dionysus tends to be quite smooth. Not when asking the woman he finds the best if she wants to marry him, though.

Test Of Courage:

Dionysus and Hephaestus are nearing Olympus, meaning the end of their quest is in sight. Hephaestus wonders whether he'll dare to complete the mission when the time is there. Dionysus tries to show him he probably will.

I Told Him To Try A Little Harder:

Zeus wants Hera as his queen. Hera wants Zeus to prove he really thinks she is worth his efforts, with something big. Something unexpected.

Hide (Just a little longer):

Hera will be the queen of the universe, with her husband Zeus as the king. There is no denying it. Yet, she would like to keep it under the covers for a little longer - until she knows she finds the courage to tell her mother.

Give Me Anything But The Giraffes:

During his meanderings, Dionysus came to Africa, too. Without his army, he trecks further south into the country. A guide helps him over the savanah, where they meet some creatures Dionysus hopes he'll never encounter again.

The Walk:

Aglaia loves Hephaestus and the other way around. Yet, so shortly after Aphrodite left, they don't know what to do about it. Maybe it's better that way. It means they can slowly discover their love instead of crashing into it.

Right Hand Men:

In order to create a destructive power the world has never seen before, Ares and Enyo decide to get married. Right now, at this very moment.

Kiss Me Not (Yet):

Ariadne wants to kiss Dionysus, she really does. Yet when she tries, all she can do is recoil. All Dionysus wants is for her to feel comfortable.

Mind and Matter:

Hephaestus never expected Athena to show up to his forge ever again. When she is there anyway, it takes little for the tears to come out.

For I Am Not A Weapon To Be Wielded:

Phaedra can hardly accept the feelings she got for Hippolytus. She starts to wonder why she has them and soon enough, she decides she doesn't want to be a weapon of the gods anymore. A retelling of Phaedra's story. Because I stuck to the source material, I can only advise viewer discression. Contains themes of suicide.

Mom Isn’t That Angry:

After Dionysus hasn't been seen on Olympus for a long time, Athena is send out to find him. She does, in a sleeping bag somewhere in the middle of nowhere, healing from injury. She decides to sit by and hold his hand until he feels better. Sometimes, it's the wisest thing a person can do.

I wish I could keep him:

Due to the danger on Olympus, Zeus gives Dionysus to Persephone, so she can raise him in secret for some time. When spring comes, he needs to come with her. She can't help but hope that she can keep him, just slightly longer, even though she knows the danger makes her hope idle.

Egyptian Mythology:

Two-faced:

Set killed Osiris. When Isis left to search for him, she left her son Horus drifting down the Nile. How big is the chance that Sets' wife Nephthys finds him? She takes him in, but whenever Sets' with her, she can't tell: Does he know, or not? And what does this mean for the baby, or more importantly, for them?

Riordanverse:

Hotel Walhalla’s weird activities to the death:

We all know of sword-fighting, spear-throwing, and yoga to the death. Yet, what other weird, totally peaceful activities have they managed to make dangerous in hotel Valhalla?

Percy Jackson one-shots:

In this book, I write Percy Jackson one-shots. Most of them were previously uploaded on my FanFiction and Wattpad account, but I decided to transfer them here as well! ! I write romance, random headcannons and ideas, cute stuff and funny ideas (No angst, very bloody stuff or anything like that). The One-shots get better in quality further in the book. The first ones are not amazing, but I added them to be complete. Update: I have decided to stop writig one-shots, but all of these stay right where they are!

At Least He Got The Minotaur:

Percy has just arrived in camp. A camper runs to Chiron and Dionysus to tell them. The camp directors are more than a little surprised at the news that a new, young camper could defeat a minotaur. It couldn't be the prophecy, could it?

There are always reasons:

Percy is in camp to meet with some friends. He seizes a chance to ask Dionysus about why the god released him from the Chrysler building, all those years ago. He gets a more profound answer than expected.

This Might Be Crazy:

Nico has some issues and needs help - even he agrees. He is just not really sure if Dionysus of all people will be able to help him. Or: A fic in which Nico gets therapy from Dionysus, learns to live again and regains control of his life, inspired by what was said in Tower of Nero. Updates every three days! This fic was nominated for the Solangelo awards 2021.

Elevators and Boys keep me awake:

Nico is going through a tough time. Luckily, he has his upstairs neighbour Dionysus to help him. Or: A Nico-gets-therapy-from-Dionysus-story, but in a mortal AU.

The Biters:

Short stories about Clarisse, told via those around her, ranging from when she was a little girl to getting claimed to getting a boyfriend and becoming a hero.

A Question:

Nico figures out Will went to Dionysus a couple of times, with questions about how to make his boyfriend feel more comfortable. Nico finds it adorable, really.

Loki (2021):

Maltesers:

Loki notices Mobius carrying a bag with a sweet scent coming off of it. Perhaps he would like to try some of that, too.

See You later, Alligator:

Loki is bored on Asgard. On a wim, he decided to transform a few things in his room into animals. After all, what can come from that except for some harmless fun?

Bohemian Rhapsody, or: Misschief on ice

Finding out that Loki can figure skate is one. Finding out that he has qualified himself for a world championship is in a whole other ballpark. Still, Mobius and Sylvie support him to the best of their abilities. Even when Loki decides to skate by his own rules.

Whoever you are:

Loki is gender fluid. Before they knew Mobius, they casually slipped in and out of different looks, whatever felt right at the moment. When they began dating, it suddenly felt so weird. Mobius tells them he'll love them, no matter who they are.

Rangers’ Apprentice:

High school could go many ways:

For a group of five orphans, the time for high school has come. Will is determined to get onto a sports team. Yet, is that truly what he wants, or has he been putting up an act for himself?

During all of this I have one question:

Crowley has an idea and plays a prank on Gilan and Halt. They handle the situation quite well, I would say.

KoFi - AO3

#masterlist #writing #writer #lifeofroos

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allhailthemightyquattro · 3 years

Text

Laura’s Deckerstar Fic Recs (Part 1)

So I finally finished bookmarking all my favourite Deckerstar fics and ended up with 99 bookmarks (and that was after trimming back a little). So now I am going to start a fic rec series where I share five of them at a time. All of the fics contain Deckerstar, but not all of them are Deckerstar centric. The list contains a wide variety of tropes and ratings, and even a couple of crossovers and AUs. It contains both one-shots and multicapter fics. Most are completed works but there are some WIPs, a few of which have not been updated in a while, so fair warning.

Disclaimer: These recs have no real ranking and are simply being shared in the order in which I bookmarked them. And just because I say more about some than I do others, does not mean that those fics are “better” or that I like them more.

You can find the complete list at my Ao3 Bookmark page.

Anyways, on with Part 1 of Laura’s Deckerstar Fic Recs! (I’ll think of a better name for it later)

Detour (with Jigsaw Puzzles) by HiroMyStory

Rating: Mature Status: Complete Word Count: 17210 (3 chapters) Author’s Summary: An accident leaves Chloe and Lucifer snowed in.

Rec Notes: A great Christmas themed story filled with plenty of post-Devil face reveal angst and a happy ending (written before Season 4, so no Eve or Father Kinley or trips to Rome). Tropes include: snowed in together (obviously) and bed sharing.

Serpent Delivery by Dacelin (Good Omens crossover)

Rating: Teen Status: Complete Word Count: 120355 (69 chapters - Lucifer would approve) Author’s Summary: When Lucifer orders the demons back to Hell, he sends ALL the demons back. And a certain Serpent of Eden would really just like to get back to his love and life in Soho. But Lucifer has other plans for the demon who botched the apocalypse. Set immediately following the finale of season 4 of Lucifer, and twenty years after the book version of Good Omens.

Rec Notes: I’m not normally one for crossovers, but these two fandoms just work so well together. And the best part about this particular series is that it’s hard to pick just which fandom is the “main” focus. The writing itself is fantastic and the characterisation is pretty spot on for all the characters up to and including Crowley’s plants. I also love how both this and its sequel have a good amount of humour worked into the writing style without it becoming a crackfic or taking anything away from the serious points of the story.

P.S. Don’t worry if you haven’t read the novel and are only familiar with Good Omens as a TV show; the plot is still easy to follow.

Beginning of Eternity by Dacelin (Good Omens crossover)

Rating: Teen Status: Complete Word Count: 123,755 (65 chapters) Author’s Summary: Peace between Heaven and Hell is a lofty goal, but not everyone is onboard. With threats of invasion whispering through Hell, it's really a terrible time to plan a wedding - except no one has told Lucifer what's going on. The council is desperate to halt the danger, even if it means making a deal with the Endless. Crowley's really regretting ever agreeing to making deliveries.

Rec Notes: If you liked my previous rec, then great news! Because this is its sequel! The balance of fandoms is even more even in this instalment, but it does go a bit more in-depth on both sides. For instance, Gabriel from the Good Omens TV show is a major player, so book knowledge alone may not be enough, and there are characters and concepts from The Sandman comic series, which is what the Lucifer TV series is based on. But if you aren’t familiar with these, don’t worry, the author has got your back! As the third instalment of the series, they have made a Characters and Information Sheet! I reckon you could muddle through without it, but I highly recommend giving it a quick glance over if you need to.

P.S. Look out for all the subtle (and not so subtle) references to The Good Place.

Castaway by ariaadagio

Rating: Mature Status: Complete Word Count: 131015 (26 chapters) Author’s Summary: The Devil is real. A sentence Chloe Decker never believed until Lucifer Morningstar burned out her skepticism with his hellfire eyes. It's a "Hell" of a reality shift, but Chloe realizes she may not have time for gradual acceptance when she discovers that one of the bodies in her most recent murder investigation isn't human. Worse still, the next target might be Lucifer. A story that begs the question: who prays for Satan? [Post-S3 finale continuation. Deckerstar.]

Rec Notes: I’m sure you all saw this one coming. There is a reason why this fic is so popular and that reason is because it is brilliant! It is set post-Series 3 finale but written before Series 4 so, once again, no Rome or Father Kinley, just Chloe trying to cope with her new knowledge of Devils and Demons. The one thing I will warn people about is that it starts with a brief description of Lucifer’s fall, but don’t let that dissuade you if you are not into that sort of story (you can even skip it if you really want as it serves more as foreshadowing than anything else). The fic may delve into Lucifer’s past, but it is very much plot-focused on the now.

The Night Before by FearTheSpork

Rating: Explicit Status: Complete Word Count: 6947 (1 chapter) Author’s Summary: A smutty oneshot in which we see Chloe bite off more than she can chew when babysitting Lucifer. Also smut.

Rec Notes: This is a great smutfic set somewhere around Season 1, so Chloe is still heavily in denial, and Lucifer is bringing his annoyingly confident flirting A-game. It’s a highly entertaining read. There is also a really cute, albeit short, morning after scene, which is probably the thing that makes this fic so memorable for me.

#lucifer on netflix #lucifer #deckerstar #fan fiction #fan fic rec #lucifer morningstar #chloe decker #Laura's Deckerstar Fic Recs

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ad1thi · 4 years

Text

keeping a low profile | AU-gust Day 11: Farm/Ranch AU

AU-gust masterlist

disclaimer: i haven’t actually watched Hannah Montana The Movie

Tony mimes cleaning out his ears, dramatically and theatrically in a way that makes his father roll his eyes.

"I must've misheard you," he says, sending his father a significant look, "so why don't we try that again? What is it you wanted to see me about, father mine?"

His father pinches the bridge of his nose, and Tony is equal parts ecstatic that he managed to garner such a reaction and worried that he's made things worse, "I said - I'm sending you to Crowley Corners Tennessee, to go live with your Aunt Peggy."

"But I don't even know my aunt Peggy! Besides, I have a life here, a life that you can't just tear me away from. You can't send me, I refuse to go."

His father scoffs, "A life? What life would that be?" he grabs a magazine from the pile stacked next to him and flings it across the desk at Tony, "A life where you get into fights with Tyra Banks over shoes?"

"Or is the life where you pass out drunk in the back-alley of nightclubs?"

"Or," he takes a second to look at the magazine cover, and Tony fights the urge to sink into his seat, "and this is my personal favourite - is it the life where you make your bestfriend's birthday party all about you?"

Tony would very much like it if the Earth could open up and swallow him whole, much like it did in that one story his Ma used to love telling him as a child.

"That was," Tony splutters, fumbling for some sort of explanation, "that was a mistake. I didn't mean to make Rhodey's party all about me!! But Hammer was just following me everywhere, and I couldn't shake him off - and you know how paparazzi are just like bloodhounds and I just…"

He trails off when Howard gives him a look. Mostly because he knows there's no excuse for this one. He's still working on getting Rhodey to forgive him for ruining his eighteenth birthday party, but it's slow going.

"You're going to Crowley Corners Tony," his father says in a voice that Tony has learnt to mean no arguing or pleading or begging will change a thing, "the fresh air and countryside will do you some good. Turn you back into that child that your mother loved so much instead of this, media monstrosity you've become."

Ordinarily, if Tony was travelling anywhere, he prefers flying. He isn't enough admitting that he's got a taste for the finer things in life and he learnt long ago that unless he was completely comfortable with the company - land journeys were not his thing. He was a big believer in popping a pill before the flight took off, pulling a mask over his eyes, and being gently woken up by a pretty air hostess when the flight landed.

Howard however, disagreed, which is why he was in a ratty bus that moved maybe 5 miles an hour and had seats so thin that Tony could feel it digging into his skin and making a home there. This is about getting back to your roots, Howard had said when he saddled Tony with two large suitcases and then left him off the side of the road to fend for himself.

He's been trying to sleep for the better part of an hour, but funnily enough - leaning your head against the dusty window made it rattle like you were in a laundry machine and that wasn't very conducive to a good night's sleep. And since Tony was surrounded by strangers and he had some survival skills, he wasn't about to pop a pill and make it easier for the homeless guy two seats away from him to kidnap him.

His only small comfort was in the fact that once Rhodey had found out where Howard was shipping him, he'd laughed so hard that he'd forgotten why he was mad at Tony, or, more likely, he decided that Tony's life was already hard enough without him also having this weighing over his head.

His exact words were: You think I'm going to miss out on you slumming it with countryfolk? Nah we're good as long as you promise to update me every single day.

Given that there was nothing to do in Crowley Corners Tennessee (he knows, he googled it), Tony didn't think that was a hard ask.

The bus finally halts to a screeching stop, and Tony cups his hands over the glass and peers through the window to see the sign better. C-owley C--ners, it reads, in faded red paint, and Tony is fairly certain that this is his stop. He gently pushes back the large man who'd plopped into the seat next to him over an hour ago and makes his way off the bus; rocking back and forth on his heels as he waits for the bus driver to unload his suitcases from the trunk.

While he's waiting, he takes a cursory look around at the town that's supposed to be his home for the next summer. It's painfully obvious that they're no longer in the city, because Tony can't see another person for miles. Reaching into his back-pocket - he pulls out his phone and starts thumbing through his contacts, trying to look for the number that his father had sent him earlier.

"Tony!" he looks up at the sound of his voice, and sees a tall woman walking up to him, with blonde hair that curls around her shoulders. Aunty Peggy, his mind supplies, thinking back to the photos he'd seen of her. There's a touch of familiarity as she gets closer, even though Tony knows it's been years since he's seen her.

"Aunt Peggy," he replies weakly, and that's all he gets out before he's pulled in for a tight hug.

"Oh it's so good to see you darling," she says, and Tony realises with a jolt that she has a british accent. She pulls back and cups his cheeks, not unlike how his Ajji does when he goes to visit her, "you look so much like your mother."

Tony ignores the tug in his heart when he hears those words, mainly because nobody ever tells him that he looks like his mother, and says instead, "It's good to see you too."

"You must be so exhausted from your journey, let's get you all settled in."

Despite his preconceived notions, Aunty Peggy actually does have a nice house. She's got a jeep parked just off the side of the road from the bus-stand, because apparently Crowley Corners isn't big enough for more than a small bench at the edge of town; and Tony dutifully drags his suitcases all the way to the jeep and hauls them over to park them in the back.

Riding in the jeep isn't too different from the bus, except that it's less stuffy and Tony can feel the wind on his face. He isn't sure if that's a good thing yet, but he silently marks it down as a point for Crowley that he doesn't immediately hate it. It's a short journey, no more than five minutes - and soon Aunt Peggy is turning the corner into what looks like a very nice house, with a man in crutches standing at the door.

"That's my husband Daniel," she explains, as they step out and Tony goes to grab his bags, "He injured himself a couple years back and was forced to retire, and New York was no longer fun without him, so I joined him out here a couple months later."

"What happened?" Tony asks, out of politeness more than anything.

"He got shot at," Aunty Peggy replies, but before he can ask whether she's serious or not, they're at the front steps

off the house and Mr Sousa is making his way down the stairs. Aunty Peggy meets him half-way, tilting her head up ever so slightly to kiss him hello, because he's still a step above her - and then smoothly shifting under his arms and helping him back up the stairs.

He thinks he can hear Aunt Peggy scolding him for trying to come down the stairs, but he isn't sure. They remind him a lot of his father and his Ma, before she died, and he turned into a tyrannical asshole. Before that though, he remembers them being happy.

"Come on in Tony!" Aunt Peggy calls after him, and Tony moves to grab his bags, when movement from the side of the house catches his eyes. Huh, he thinks to himself, I didn't know anyone else lived here. He wants to ask Aunt Peggy who it is, but she's already gone inside, so he feels a bit foolish yelling after her.

"Hello?" he calls out hesitantly, "Is anyone there?"

There's a shuffle and then a boy who can't be much older than Tony steps out; with mud on the scuffs off his boots and wearing an honest to god cowboy hat.

"Howdy!" he says brightly, while Tony tries to wrap his head around the cowboy hat, "You must be Mrs Sousa's nephew." He wipes the back of his hand against his cotton tshirt, which is so thin that it's practically see through, "Clark Kent. I help out with Mr and Mrs Sousa's ranch sometimes, on account of Mrs Sousa being away a lot and Mr Sousa's leg injury."

"Tony," he says back, and up close, Tony notices that his thick framed glasses and wide brimmed hat are hiding blue eyes, "Tony Stark."

"Nice to meet you Tony Stark," Clark says with a twinkle, "I guess I'll be seeing a lot of you 'round here."

"Yeah," his tongue feels heavy, but Tony manages to unstick it just enough to say, "yeah I suppose you will."

Both of them stare at each other for a couple of seconds longer, missing the way Peggy looks at the pair of them with a private smile playing on her lips.

Fin

#my writing #superiron #clark/tony #clark kent x tony stark #clark x tony #clark kent/tony stark #adi does AU-gust #AU-gust #farm/ranch AU #hannah montana the movie AU #desi tony stark #i actually had so much fun writing this #and i might expand on it who knows??#i feel like i say i had fun writing this for everything that i write #but im genuinely rly enjoying myself yknow #even though my posts aren't getting that much notes and stuff #im still having a rly good time #tackling all these different AUs and different ships

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ineffable-snowman · 3 years

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I wrote a GO Christmas fic!

or am still writing, to be honest, but here’s the first chapter. It’s a human AU, inspired by too many Christmas romance movies that I’ve watched over the years.

You can read it here or on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28245411

Many thanks to the lovely people at the GO-Events discord server who helped me with beta-reading and brainstorming!

Chapter One: December 19th

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!”

Crowley threw his phone onto the passenger seat. Dead battery. And he was in the middle of nowhere and it was close to midnight. He cursed Lucifer and that stupid job and the stupid snow (and ice storms, road works, poorly signposted roads, and zero internet reception). He was completely lost without his phone. What was he supposed to do? Just keep driving, without a clue where Ashville was? Everything just looked the same: heaps and heaps of snow. Why would anyone want to build a factory here of all places? (Probably low property taxes.)

Crowley got out of the car and kicked the bloody snow at the side of the road only to hurt his foot because it was more ice than snow. He cursed some more. His words formed wisps of tiny clouds in the dark and the cold. A gigantic factory would definitely be an improvement for this area. It would mean a bit of variety in this desolate place. Maybe even a signpost here and there. Or internet reception!

Finally, the glint of headlights in the distance. Crowley waved wildly to make the car stop.

The driver rolled down the window. “Do you need help?”

“Yes. I seem to have gotten slightly lost. Can you point me towards Ashville?”

“Ashville? Never heard of that.”

Neither had Crowley before Lucifer had sent him there. “Do you maybe have a phone I could use?”

“No internet reception here.”

“What about phone calls?” Not that it would be much help. Crowley did not even know Lucifer’s number by heart. But maybe he could call directory assistance to ask for the number of that Bed and Breakfast, what was it called again? Something with ‘Book’. Shit. Of course, he had all the necessary information on his phone and only his phone.

“Afraid not.” The driver got out of his car and opened the trunk to pull out an old roadmap.

“Mm, didn’t know these still existed,” Crowley said but was all the more grateful for such old-fashioned things in this situation. Back in Chicago, the first thing he was going to buy himself was a new phone, at least two power banks, and a roadmap.

Crowley and his rescuer – with a bulky flashlight – poured over the old roadmap until they finally located the small town called Ashville. Without ever having been there, Crowley already hated it. He tried to memorise the map (taking a picture with his phone would have been so helpful…) and thanked the man for his assistance.

After half an hour of driving through more snow and trees, Crowley finally arrived at Ashville. Now he just needed to find his B&B. Well, he would simply do it the old-fashioned way: go to the tourist information or, in the worst case, book another place to stay for the night.

There was no tourist information.

There was nothing that looked like a hotel.

The streetlights had already been turned off as well as all the lights in all the houses. It was not that late, just half past midnight. Did people even live here? It felt like a ghost town.

Crowley drove down road after empty road until he finally passed a house with the lights still on. He brought the Bentley to a halt and promptly slipped on the icy sidewalk when he got out of the car. “Damn it!” Clinging to the wing mirror, he picked himself up and shuffled to the front door. He was tired and cold and hungry, his bottom hurt from the fall and he badly needed to go to the loo. The lights in this house were his only hope.

A friendly-looking man in reading glasses and a beige cardigan opened the door.

Crowley quickly started talking before the man could shut the door right in his face, “Sorry to disturb you so late at night but your house was the only place with the lights still on, so I thought I’d try my luck. Anyway, I’m looking for a B&B in Ashville – I am in Ashville, right? – called something like Books and Bed and Breakfast. It’s meant to be here somewhere.”

“Did you mean The Book Nook?”

“Yes!” Crowley almost shouted in relief. Finally, something that went right today.

“You’ve come to the right place. This is The Book Nook. Are you Anthony Crowley then?”

“Oh, thank God! Yes, I’m Crowley.” Crowley smiled apologetically at the man. He must have kept him up for longer than usual because, apparently, in Ashville, everyone went to sleep before midnight. “Sorry for being so late but there was an ice storm around Little Falls and the road was closed in Randall and then I had to go back to Little Falls and crawl along those bloody slippery roads again and try to find another way and I got lost about five times because I didn’t get reception for my phone and then the battery was dead. Anyway, sorry. Didn’t mean to keep you up.”

“It’s fine, no need to worry. The most important thing is that you arrived here safely. I am Aziraphale, by the way. Welcome to The Book Nook.” The man opened the door wider. Inside looked warm and cosy. “Please, come in. Can I help you with your luggage?”

“No need, don’t have much with me.” Crowley quickly got his suitcase from the Bentley and followed Aziraphale inside. He found himself inside a crammed little bookshop. Not what he had expected.

His confusion must have shown on his face because Aziraphale said, “Don’t worry, you won’t have to sleep between the books. Your room is upstairs and you have a perfectly nice and comfy bed.”

“Great.” Crowley followed him up a winding staircase, which was decorated with a festive garland. Aziraphale led him to one of the rooms and fiddled with the large key (Crowley could not remember when he had last stayed at a place that still used such keys. Key cards were the standard). Finally, he managed to open the door with a resolute yank.

“There it is. I hope everything is to your liking.”

Crowley could only stare. It looked like a Christmas explosion had happened here. There were Christmas lights on strings wound around the wardrobe and the mirror. Every available surface was covered with Christmassy knick-knacks: Santa figurines, Christmas baubles, candles in the shape of snowmen, even a nutcracker (What on earth was he supposed to do with a nutcracker???). The windows were decorated with glittery stars and the letters forming ‘Merry Christmas’, missing the dot on the i.

Aziraphale looked expectantly at Crowley. Oh, yes, he had asked if Crowley liked the room.

“Yeah, great, thanks,” Crowley answered, staring in horror at the flowery bedspread and the assortment of plush cushions in various sizes, some of them with ruffles and lace. How old was that guy? Or did he rent his Grandma’s old rooms?

“So, what brings you here to Ashville? Visiting relatives?”

Crowley supposed that must be the only reason why anyone came here. Who would voluntarily go to this place? “Nah, I’m just a tourist on vacation.” He was not in the mood for small talk (and he really needed to go to the loo!) but it would not do to be rude to Aziraphale after Crowley had made him wait for so long for him to arrive, so he tried his best to be friendly.

“Vacation, how lovely,” Aziraphale commented.

Was that too obvious a lie? “Thought I’d do some hiking in the woods,” Crowley elaborated. “Just…find some peace and quiet, you know? Work’s been busy lately.” At least that part wasn’t a lie. He probably could convincingly play the exhausted businessman from the city who needed some time away from the hustle and bustle to find his inner self or some such bullshit.

“Ah, I see. You would need snowshoes if you want to go hiking in the woods, though. The snow is very deep if you leave the road, you won’t get very far without snowshoes. I think I heard Sara say that they had sold out the last ones but I could ask Arthur if he could lend you his, he is about-”

“No, no, it’s fine, I brought my own.” Crowley did not own snowshoes, of course, but as he would never willingly go hiking in the snow, that was no problem.

Aziraphale dubiously eyed Crowley’s little suitcase.

“I left them in the car,” Crowley explained. “I hardly need them here, right?”

“Ah, no.” Aziraphale chuckled. “Anyway, I’ll leave you alone now so you can make yourself at home. Would you like a cup of tea? Or something to eat? I suppose you haven’t had dinner yet if the journey took you so long?”

Just on cue, Crowley’s stomach rumbled. “Starving.” The only roadside restaurant he had seen during his trip here had already been closed – at 9 pm! Ridiculous, really. “Any recommendations for a good restaurant?”

“I’m afraid the diner is already closed.”

Of course it was. But another thing worried Crowley much more: “Diner? As in singular?”

“Well, Ashville isn’t that big. There is a pub in Elm Street but they only serve light lunches. And there used to be a lovely restaurant next to the town hall but the owner – sorry, you’re probably not interested in all of this. I have some leek and potato soup left that I could reheat or if you’d prefer sandwiches, I could prepare some quickly-”

“No, soup is fine.” Jesus Christ, Crowley just wanted to go to the loo and he needed to recharge the phone’s battery so he could shout at Lucifer for sending him to this ridiculous place – he did not need leek and potato soup. But asking the guy to prepare him sandwiches in the middle of the night seemed somewhat ungrateful. “Soup is great.”

“Lovely. The kitchen is just over there.” The guy pointed to the end of the hall. “Come whenever you’re ready.” He handed Crowley the rusty key. It had a little wooden guardian angel as a key chain. Then he finally left Crowley alone.

Crowley rushed to the tiny bathroom and groaned when he saw the crimson red and very plushy cover on the toilet lid. He was going to kill Lucifer!

After he had finally relieved himself, he unplugged the Christmas lights (because apparently there was only one socket in the whole room) so he could recharge the phone’s battery. Then he went into the kitchen, which was as crammed and full of Christmas decoration as his own room.

Aziraphale put a bowl of steaming soup in front of him. Leek and potato soup was not exactly Crowley’s thing but he was hungry and cold, so it would do.

“When would you like to have breakfast tomorrow?” asked Aziraphale while rummaging through the kitchen drawers. “I’m afraid I can’t offer you a late breakfast because I have to open the shop tomorrow at half-past nine. You see, the last Saturday before Christmas is always the busiest day of the year. Many people turn to books as a last-minute Christmas present. But if you wanted to sleep longer, I could prepare something for you. Pancakes are easy to reheat, for example, and-”

“Don’t bother, I just have coffee for breakfast anyway.”

“But if you plan to go hiking, you need to have a proper breakfast! Seriously, the cold will wear you out in no time at all!”

It took Crowley a bit of time to calm Aziraphale down but he eventually convinced him that he would not go for a long hike tomorrow but would just walk around the town for a bit. Then finally Crowley could go into his room. He removed the horrible bedspread (and two woollen blankets underneath it) as well as five cushions. Five! Who on earth needed that many cushions? Most of them not even big enough to rest your head on.

Unfortunately, his charging cable wasn’t long enough – or rather: there was no socket close enough to the bed. So Crowley sat down on the floor next to the socket and texted Lucifer: Just arrived in Ashville. Are you fucking kidding me???? Well, he meant to text him but the message could not be sent because he had no reception. Damn it, this was a town, people lived here! How could there be no reception?

Groaning, Crowley stood up again and left his room. The lights in the kitchen were still on and he could hear plates clatter and water running. No dishwasher, naturally.

“Sorry, could you give me the wifi password?” Crowley asked. “I mean, if there is wifi…”

“Yes, of course there is. But it can be a bit finicky, especially if there are snowstorms. Which is practically all the time in winter. You usually have the best reception at the top of the staircase. The password is,” Aziraphale waggled his eyebrows, “Pri-fiAndPrejudice.” He looked immensely proud of that horrible pun. Crowley could not entirely suppress a snort of laughter. What a nerd.

“If there’s anything else you need, my room is the one next to yours. Don’t hesitate to knock.”

“Isn’t that annoying, always having strangers in your house?”

“Not at all. The house would be too big for just me. And anyway, I don’t have many guests and most of them are just lovely people, so I don’t really mind it.”

Crowley shrugged. He could not imagine living like that. But he also couldn’t imagine sleeping between dozens of tiny fluffy cushions and doing your dishes by hand. Suddenly his conscience got the better of him. It was way past midnight, this guy had offered him soup in his own kitchen – which was not usually included in a B&B – and was now doing the dishes. “Can I help you? I could dry the plates.”

“Absolutely not! You’re my guest and you deserve your vacation. Besides, I’m almost finished here.”

“Ah, well. I’ll leave you a five-star google review then.”

“Oh, really?”

Aziraphale smiled at him and – Crowley was momentarily taken aback. There was no reason to smile like that just because of the promise of a simple google review. Aziraphale’s smile was just like his Christmas decorations: blinding and completely over the top.

“Yeah, no problem,” Crowley said. “Well. Night then.”

Back in his room, Crowley typed in the password and waited for his phone to connect to the ridiculously slow wifi. Finally, it sent the text messages to Lucifer. While waiting for an answer, Crowley checked The Book Nook’s reviews on google. There were only two: one anonymous who had given it two stars and one who had given it three stars and an added comment “breakfast was good.” Crowley frowned. So did that mean the rest of the place was not good, just the breakfast? It felt oddly unfair. Obviously, this place did not meet Crowley’s taste but he could tell that the owner went out of his way to accommodate him. Crowley frowned again. What on earth was he doing here, pondering over google reviews while sitting on the floor because there was no socket next to the bed? It was cold and uncomfortable in spite of the room’s fluffy carpet. This was really absurd. On the spur of the moment, he decided to rearrange the furniture a bit. He pushed the bed closer to the wall with the socket – and almost tripped over the numerous boxes under the bed. Probably where the Easter decorations were stored…

There was a soft knock on the door. “Er, just wondering, is everything alright?”

“Yeah, just perfect,” Crowley grunted and then sneezed heartily because his activity had raised quite a bit of dust from under the bed. (He would have to rethink that five-star review.) He pushed the bed further towards the wall until he could sit comfortably on the bed with his charger cable still plugged in. Only to get a notification that his phone was not connected to the internet. Well, he was tired anyway. He removed a Santa figurine and eight wooden reindeers from the bedside table so he could place his glasses and a cup of water there. Then he sank back into the bed. It squeaked loudly.

“Fuck.”

#good omens fic #my writing #ineffable husbands #christmas fic #human AU #aziraphale #crowley

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lattereadsra · 5 years

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Faengers AU

A collection of ideas and headcanons about the Rangers as a fae court compiled from the RA Discord server

(It’s real long, so I’m putting it under a read more)

General stuff:

-King Herbert made a deal with a fae court to form the Ranger Corps

-The common folk know the Rangers are fae; it’s obvious

-The nobility know they’re not fae; that’s ridiculous

-The Crown family knows; they have to

-The Deal is automatically renewed with each new coronation. Should someone not part of the family take the throne, they would have to renew it personally. “Family” is not defined, though, so marriage/found family counts

-To this day, all the Rangers are fae

-Like, all of them

-Instead of abducting children, they take them as apprentices. These kids all already have a bit of fae blood in them, even if it’s distant. “Graduation” is when they are turned into full fae

-The Gathering is where their court is held. That’s why no one can find it

-They can’t tell anyone they’re fae unless they are asked first which causes a lot of frustration. Apprentices have to put together the clues and ask the question for themselves, and if they don’t, it’s a good sign they ought not to be a Ranger

-Rangers brag to each other about their apprentices by saying how long it took them to ask. Too long and it’s perceived as unobservant; too soon and it’s considered hasty/surreptitious

The fun stuff (aka character specific):

-Will knows the rangers aren't actually magic. He thinks Halt is just being polite when he pointedly invites him in when they first get to the cabin. He thinks he's just personifying Tug. He assumes Halt replaces the wildflowers in the vase every day. It takes him a while to start putting together the clues

-When Will awkwardly asks if Halt is actually a fairy or something, Halt responds with a sardonic "Took you long enough. I thought I taught you to ask questions, boy."

-And so the training shifts

-Halt believes the apprentices should learn to be as skilled as they can using human abilities before learning to use their fae skills, which is why he didn't tell Will about becoming fully fae until his graduation

-Halt is obviously Hibernian fae

-The inheritance is a funny thing because Ferris is entirely human (he repressed his fae), and Caitlyn only got the Uncanny stuff, not the Wild Skills

-Crowley is full-blooded fae. Will calls him “long in the tooth” because he literally has fangs

-Will’s fae ancestry is on his mother’s side

-Aka desert/sun nymph

-It’s how he was able to survive in the desert in book seven. A normal human would have died out there, but he managed to hold out because the sun has a hard time killing him

-It’s also why that snake tried to attack the kid, and how he was able to win the race; nature was giving him a chance to prove himself

-Will is lucky he was mostly mortal while he was in Skandia. As a sun nymph, he does not do well in the cold. His fae blood saved him in Arrida, but had Halt fully released the boy from his mortality as soon as he was able, had he not been prudent enough to wait, Will likely would not have made it to the desert at all

-They go the first Gathering and Gilan is asking Will sort of cryptic questions that Will is so confused by, and Halt has to interrupt to tell his former apprentice that Will has already asked The Question, so he can speak freely

-There's also another first year (possibly at a later Gathering) who hadn't asked yet, and it's the first time Will is really affected by the third clause of the deal

-His words change to things he doesn't mean to say, eventually becoming twisted tongue-tied noises, and eventually he just stops being able to talk when he tries to explain to the poor kid

-Getting Horace to ask is a hell of a thing

-During Kings of Clonmel:

“Honestly,” said Horace, “I think I kind of – assumed Halt just sprang out of a hill or something.”

Will looked up at him sharply. Say it. Ask it.

-Horace gets frustratingly close to some version of a question that would count, and Will gets so annoyed that he can't really prompt him further

-"Wow, Will, it's like you were born in the woods"

-“Why don't you come visit the castle more often?"

-“How are you so good at sneaking up on me like that?"

-“Do you believe there are spirits in the woods here?"

-After many many close calls, Will eventually snaps and tells Horace to just say what is on his mind instead of hemming and hawing about it and Horace says he sometimes wonders if the rangers made a deal with the Fair Folk. Will just stops, tries to say something and gets tongue-tied and very carefully tells Horace that if he wants to know so bad, maybe he should ask

Horace: Uh, okay... Did you make a deal with the fae?

Will: I fubctva hv

Will: sigh

Will: Something like that

-Eventually:

Will: Horace, I need to tell you something important

Horace: Of course, go ahead

Will: I love you

Will: No wait, that's not--well, I do, but I meant to say that I olikarcbacsvberq

Horace: Are you okay?

Will: No, I onialevbunpi;erawvn

Horace: What's going on?

Will: LOJSRNVILHILUABUAV

Horace: What's your deal?

Will: DOES THAT COUNT?

Horace: Does what count?

Will: Say it again

Horace: Uh, what's your deal?

Will: I'M A FAIRY

Will, to the sky: HA IT DOES COUNT

Will: Can't wait to tell Halt that that worked

-Will plays his mandola and low key charms everyone listening

-Except other fae

-Aka Halt

-Alyss' helper in book five copies all of Will's technical mistakes but he can't copy the feel of the music because the diplomatic corps don't know about the deal. Thus, he doesn't know about Will's music being literally magical to listen to (and wouldn't be able to copy it anyway)

-Berrigan is noted for his very strong musical magic. Rumor has it he once talked a warlord into never picking up another weapon in his life, just by singing, but truthfully his gitarra is his tool

-Sir David was In The Know and flat-out forbade Gilan to "cheat" at his swordcraft, charisma, &c

-And fae are nothing but fair, so Will got the same treatment

-Malcom made a deal with a fae for knowledge of medicine and good luck in his work, and in return, he can't leave his glade. He's able to get away with it in book nine because it's to help another fae, but it’s thin ice

Most of this was copy/pasted from the Discord. Special thanks to @stxrduste for helping to come up with a lot of this. I think they’re working on writing a fic version of this, so keep an eye out

BONUS:

The Contract of the Rangers

Declared by King Herbert of Araluen, 493 CE

Composed with the help of Conor Porter, Head of Diplomatic Services

*Historian’s note: The contract was likely prewritten and read aloud word for word to minimize the ability of the Rangers to find loopholes.*

The contracted fae agree to thus, so long as I and my descendants rule the country we call Araluen;

The contracted fae will be referred to as Rangers;

The Rangers will serve primarily as an intelligence force and, as needed, a specialized force of uniquely trained warriors and tacticians for the Crown of Araluen;

The Rangers shall not tell those outside the Crown of their nature unless they are asked.

The Crown agrees to thus, so long as I and my family rule the country we call Araluen;

The Crown will not allow for the destruction of the natural landscape in which the Rangers live;

The Rangers will be allowed to take willing children as apprentices to train as new Rangers, one per Ranger at any given time;

The Rangers will be given the authority to self govern within the laws of Araluen, whatever they be, and as an organization, they shall hold equal weight as a Crown Prince or Princess.

So long as neither side of the contract is broken, both parties will be bound to follow it. Unless the Crown or the Rangers wish it otherwise, the contract shall be renewed with the coronation of each of my descendants. I, King Herbert of Araluen, agree to this contract.

*Historian’s note: We have no record of the name of the first Ranger to agree to this contract, nor do we have a record of what was said, but given the current existence and state of operation of the Ranger Corps, it would seem they agreed to the contract as declared.*

*Unofficial historian’s note: I think it was Meratyn*

#Ranger's Apprentice #Rangers Apprentice #ra au #faengers #literally all the characters

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that-one-enby-ranger · 1 year

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Halt O'Carrick Playlist Part 4:

It's continuning on with more songs, and more Queen. Because I am very biased about that band. I am currently litsening to their new collectors edition album right now while writing this. But whatever. Moving on:

You're My Bestfriend by Queen: More Queen :) This song reminds me of Halt and Crowley. Which makes since. Even though the song was originally written for John Deacon's wife, it works better with Crowley and Halt rather than Pauline and Halt. Because I prefer Cralt of Haltine. Oh, you're the best friend that I ever had. I've been with you such a long time, you're my sunshine and I want you to know that my feelings are true. I really love you. Oh, you're my best friend. Things Halt one hundred percent feels but is also one hundred percent never going to say them outloud. Not in a million years.

I'll Be There For You by The Rembrandts: Yes, the F.R.I.E.N.D.S theme tune. This also reminds me of Halt and Crowley. And Halt and Will. And Halt and literally everyone in the entire series that he is protective of. Which is pretty much everyone. This song more reminds me of the all the characters as entire friend group. Well, obviously not all the characters. Like Moragarath and the other villains. But you know what I mean. They are a chaotic friend group and they will always help each other like the chaotic friends that they are.

Friends Will Be Friends by Queen: I kind of feel like I've already done this one. But whatever. More friendship. More Queen. There will be a lot of Queen this time round. The reason for this should be fairly obvious as to why it reminds me of Halt and his should be husband, so I'm not gonna say anymore. Except this we can rule Pauline out of this one, unless you like Craltine, because this was not written for John Deacon's wife. It was just for friends in general. Random side note: Halt and Crowley are gay.

We Are The Champions by Queen: Not done with this band yet. There is just so may good and powerful songs. Sue me. I DON'T. CARE. We Are The Champions is once again another song that fits well with most of the characters, mainly as one big badass fighting group. Pretty obvious as to why. I can't be bothered to explain why. But there is a line in the chorus I would love to bring your attention to: And we'll keep on fighting till the end. Powerful shit right there.

Spread Your Wings by Queen: We're not done yet. This song might more apply to Will actually but whatever. It can still relate to Halt pretty well, with just some changes. The songs about a boy who wants to get away from where he is now to be doing something else. Kind of how Halt didn't want to be king, and didn't want to die, so he left Hibernia for Araluen adn became a ranger. The only difference is that the boy in the song is working at a bar, lives in a hotel room, and is poor and is basically a nothing. The exact opposite of what Halt was. Also the boys name is Sammy.

Bring Me To Life by Evanescence: Emo song. Emo boy. I don't really know what else to say to this. This song could kind of relate to where Halt was most likely feeling depressed, at least a little bit. Like when he had murder attempts against him from his own bloody brother, or when Pritchard died. I don't have anything else to say but emo.

Do I Wanna Know? by The Arctic Monkeys: I dunno. It just reminds me of him. I think this is a song he would maybe sort of like in a modern AU. Like I've said, I think he would actually like some modern stuff, especially since it sounds a lot better than medieval stuff and its all different varities and genres.

Centuries by Fall Out Boy: This is another one that should be pretty self explanatory. I've seen other people say that this song reminds them of RA. Again, this song can relate to most of the characters. Probably more closer to being a Will, Horace, Gilan and Cassandra song. But still relates to everyone really.

Always by Bon Jovi: Again, don't know why. Again, another song that I think Halt would like. The songs about loving and being there for someone always. For some reason whenever I hear it and I think about Halt, I don't think about him being there for Will or Crowley or Pauline, or any of those characters. I think about him and Caitlyn. Even though this is supposed to be a love song, and Caitlyn's Halt's sister which would make it weird, I don't think about it as a love song. I just think about people caring about each other very much. Platonically.

21 Guns by Green Day: And lets end it off with yet another song I don't have a real reason for, other than the feel and sound of th esong, and I think Halt would kind of like it. I guess if you really look deep into the lyrics you could probably find a better reasoning, but I'm too lazy, someone else can do it.

So thats that. Now that I'm done, I'm going to continue litsening to a Queen interview on the radio.

#halt's playlist #halt o'carrick #rangers apprentice

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thelastranger · 5 years

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Keeping Up With The O'Carricks

A family reunion au where Caitlyn doesn't die, Halt regularly visits, Ferris is exactly the same, and everyone is horrified at the O'Carrick drama. Sean included. It's a mix of trashy reality shows and the office.

Halt gives Sean a complete tour of the castle. No one has heard Halt speak this much at one time ever. "Here's where Ferris tried to kill me, here's where I beat him up.." It takes a full day to give Sean the complete tour. Ferris tries to shoot an arrow at Halt during the tour from the roof and Halt is more offended at Ferris' bad archery skills than he is at the attack of his person. Halt promptly tracks down Ferris and beats him up. He gets up and dusts off his cloak. "And here's where my brother tried to shot me with an arrow. And here's where I beat him up for the 500th time..." "I know Uncle Halt. I was right there."

Everytime Ferris opens his mouth to speak or says anything, Caitlyn will look into the camera like Jim from the Office.

Everyone loves Caitlyn because she is super chill most of the time and super willing to give away royal secrets but also seems competent. At the same time, Caitlyn will tell people off (and by people she means Ferris) and is frequently found hanging off a castle turret with Halt. This just makes everyone love her even more.

There's a rotation of who gets to choose the dinner courses and Ferris always tries to get the staff to make shrimp just to bug Halt but Caitlyn bribed them with more vacation days

Halt regularly pretends to be Ferris when he's confronting con men, enemies of the state, and stuffy nobles. He drops em into the moat and leaves Ferris to deal with the aftermath.

One time Ferris tried to pretend to be Halt but he fooled nobody. He got bucked off of Abelard immediately.

Will and Horace come along too and pretend to be Halt's sons just so they can keep telling Ferris that he's been demoted down the line for the throne. They like to see which color Ferris' face will turn with rage and annoyance.

Family meals are... interesting. Horace and Sean are next to each other, earnestly talking about life in the castle and making genuine attempts to get to know each other. Caitlyn is telling Will stories about baby Halt and suddenly Caitlyn is Will's favorite person. Halt and Ferris are on opposite ends of the table and tend to glower at each other through meals. One time a spoonful of peas was discreetly thrown at Ferris who assumes that Halt threw it and throws a pie back at him. A food fight erupts. Ferris thinks it was Halt. Halt thinks it was Caitlyn. Caitlyn and Horace think it was Will, Will thinks Horace did it and no one suspects Sean, who actually flung the peas.

The only time they all relatively get along is when Pauline visits. Halt is on his best behavior, Ferris has to act kingly since Pauline is a diplomat of Araluen, the head one in fact, and could easily make life difficult for him. Pauline and Caitlyn get along famously. They get a little tipsy and swap stories about court life, Halt, and literally anything else they can think of.

Ferris, by the river: Oh my gosh, I'm gonna cry! My braided leather crown!

Caitlyn and Halt, in unision: Ferris, there's people that are dying.

Halt: I start laughing at Ferris when he's crying 'cause I just can't help it. He has this ugly crying face that he makes.

[Cuts to Ferris ugly sobbing curled up on the ground]

There's a supercut of Caitlyn's beleaguered and confused husband looking bewildered any time the O'Carrick siblings do anything together.

One episode there's a segment where Ferris has to sneak out of the castle to meet Tennyson to make shady deals. Ferris is trying to be silent but he keeps tripping over his cloak (it's a horrendous shade of bright purple) his feet and literally everything else. When he gets to Tennyson, he sees that Halt and Sean have already snuck out and are pretending to be him.

Halt will do something and then Ferris will roast him, but Ferris will do the same thing one second later and Halt roasts him even harder

Caitlyn is married but no one else ever sees her husband. They'll catch glimpses of him in the corner of their eyes but Ferris has never talked to the man. Halt has made it one of his goals to track down Caitlyn's husband in the castle.

Crowley visits once and Hibernians love him. Crowley also takes a drink every time Ferris does something dumb so Crowley is pretty sloshed pretty much all of his visit. Halt joins in and they start singing drinking songs together. Will plays his mandola.

Will and Horace are officially added to the O'Carrick family tree and they love it. The O'Carrick tree just keeps getting bigger and bigger and Ferris keeps getting more and more dismayed.

Ferris leaks his self care routine and people actually like it? Like, sure this guy is the worst and incompetent, but he's got a great skin care routine and looks (relatively) good for his age. Halt is considered the more attractive twin by the Hibernian public though.

There's a super cut of Caitlyn aggressively mothering Sean before he goes into diplomatic meetings. It's so pure and sweet.

Will and Horace replace Ferris' black hair dye with a blue dye and he has to go around with blue hair for a week. They never let him live it down.

#Ranger's Apprentice #Halt O'Carrick #Ferris O'Carrick #Caitlyn O'Carrick #Will Treaty #Horace Altman #kuwtoc au

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redrose-arrow · 2 years

Note

Crowley/Halt/Duncan (Crownhalt? Crodunhalt? Duncralt?) anon back! Hi! Here's some softer headcanons because the last two parts have been a little heavy on plot and angst and it's (probably) only going to go downhill from here (remember what was mentioned about folks possibly trying to get back at Halt and Cody for what they've done and at least a couple Rangers being jealous of them? yeah that'll end up playing a part)

Anyways. (A lot of this is in the future of the AU because I promise that this will come out with a happy ending)

- When Halt and Cody were kids, back when Ferris was still around, they'd all been forced to play musical instruments. Cody played the flute, Ferris played the harp, and Halt... well. Halt played the mandola. Which is why, in a little less than two decades later, he will feel completely justified in calling Will's mandola a lute. If he had to feel that pain, then so will his beloved apprentice.

- Cody, when they were younger, used to drag around this big ol' book filled to the brim of ancient Hibernian legends and myths. Unfortunately, they had to leave it behind when running away with Halt, which was pretty much their biggest (and only) regret in leaving. Halt, who knows them very well, saves up enough money so that he can get them a copy of the same exact book-- a newer copy so that it'll hold together better over the years, but still overall the same book. He gives it to them on their first birthday after they meet Crowley and Duncan, which arrives in mid-spring. Cody is ecstatic.

- When they're older, Cody gives this book to a young kid who had just come to Hibernia. They're still working with the Rangers at this point, and the kid reminds them of themself in a way-- or even of Halt. And they've pretty much memorized the whole book by now, so they don't need it anymore.

(- In the next few years, that very same kid ends up becoming their apprentice of sorts. Cody doesn't mention how happy they are to see that the kid kept the book. Halt doesn't need to be told to know.)

- Halt, Crowley, and Duncan are still together and very much in love when Will becomes Halt's apprentice. Will, however, doesn't know this, and he also doesn't know that Halt used to be Mongoose. So, when Will meets King Duncan for the first time (in his office, away from the public), accompanied by Halt, he is shocked, flabbergasted, and horrified when Halt outright insults Duncan's shirt.

- Duncan just laughs, then asks if Halt has any fashion advice. Halt just says "Wear anything but that." Will is very scared for Halt's safety, and remains so until it is finally explained hours later that Halt is not only in a relationship with Crowley, the commandant of the Ranger Corps, but also with King Duncan, the ruler of Araluen.

- Will decides to head to bed early after that. He needs some time to digest this new information and also wonder if this makes Halt royalty. (If only he knew...)

- Halt, Will, and Horace still end up heading to Clonmel, where they meet King Conall. Yeah, remember that guy? Well, when he realizes just who Halt is, he is terrified and... willingly gives up the throne to Halt. Which Halt is mildly surprised by, but he's happy with the result nonetheless since it makes things so much easier to deal with. Will and Horace, meanwhile, are exceedingly baffled by this turn of events. Why is King Conall so afraid of Halt? Because in this AU, Halt never told them who he was beforehand.

- Halt eventually tells them (mostly) everything. While Horace is just a little scared out of his mind (temporarily), Will's only response is "I don't know why I'm surprised about anything when it comes to you anymore." Horace eventually comes to agree, realizing that honestly, this is kind of par for the course when it comes to Halt.

this is a lot better, thank you. no i do not remember anyone threatening the happiness of these characters, absolutely not :))

ANYHOW

i shouldn’t have laughed so hard at the mandola thing but i couldn’t help it rip. halt why are you like that. be compassionate.

that being said the whole book thing is the cutest thing EVER and makes my heart warm and my face smile and yeah <3

poor will being so clueless. why did no one tell him?? gilan 100% hid this fact because he wanted someone else to suffer too. djskajsa my brain is shortcircuiting over halt and duncan’s interaction i love them sm

ALSO will being unfazed should’ve been canon 100%. now i need to know what halt will do with the crown. and ALSO — where did Cody go during this mission???

(((ive been thinking about their shipname but the only thing i could come with was hacrodu or ducroha which had me in tears)))

#wear anything BUT that #let me just say that i read that differently initially #iykyk #aaaahhhhh #why am i so obsessed with these three #it makes no sense but alas we’re in this now and having a very good time #ra halt au #rangers apprentice #ranger's apprentice #john flanagan #ask redrose #ask redrosearrow

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moonflower-31 · 4 years

Text

Confessions - Sabriel Rapunzel AU

Part 7

Part 6

Part 5

Part 4

Part 3

Part 2

Part 1

As they walked down the tunnel, Gabriel walked behind Sam, summoning a torch when he wasn't looking. Then he ran back up to Sam's side.

"So... let me get this straight... what exactly is off limits for me to ask about?" He asks, giving Sam a confused look, glancing at Crowley who continuously gave him the stink eye.

Sam smiled and laughed a bit, pushing a strand behind his ear again. "Okay, well, just don't ask about anything that doesn't--consern you, alright?" He settles. Gabriel rolled his eyes.

"You gotta give me specifics. I already know your father is off-limits, can't talk about the hair cause you're like--crazy afraid someone will steal it or cut it," He starts. Sam nods as he mentions each one.

"Yep, those are definitely none of your buisness." He says, smirking a bit as he looked at him. "By the way how did you find a torch? This place is pretty pitch black." Sam asks, chuckling nervously.

Gabriel looked at him, slightly in a panic. "Oh... you know, just found one on the wall, used flint and steel, the hard ways of life." He insists.

Sam gave him another weird look, and was about to press the issue further. Until light began coming through the end of the tunnel they were coming from, and the sound of guards filtered in.

Gabriel widened his eyes and grabbed Sam by the hand. "No time for questions! Let's just go-!" He exclaimed, pulling Sam through the tunnel as he ran. Sure, he wanted to use his tired and unused wings, but again that would give it all away now wouldn't it?

Sam widened his eyes as he was pulled. "Wait what-?!" He called to Gabriel, feeling uneasy as he was pulled through the tunnel.

Gabriel ignored him and kept pulling him along until they saw more light and they exited the tunnel. Sam looked down, and almost shrieked when he realized how high up they were.

"Loki. You had better have a plan for this!" He exclaimed, looking at Gabriel with a panicked look. Sam rolled his eyes and gave Gabriel his frying pan.

"Just try not to die, please." He says before he launched his hair that he had begun to bundle up and swung to the other side of the canyon.

Gabriel widened his eyes at Sam. "You couldn't have taken me too?!" He exclaimed just as the guards, lead by Dean came through.

Dean grinned triumphantly. "I've waited a long, long time for this one. And you aren't even Loki, are you?" He teased, making Gabriel widen his eyes.

Gabriel panicked, and swung the frying pan, knocking Dean out cold. He let out a shocked laugh and looked back at the guards.

"This, is absolutely the strangest thing I've ever done!" He exclaimed, swinging it again as each guard came at him, knocking them each unconscious.

Once each of the guards were on the ground, Gabriel let out a chuckle. "Oh father I have got to get me one of these!!" He exclaimed, before he heard a neigh sound beside him. He gripped the frying pan in his hand and aimed it at the incoming threat.

Then his triumphant smile faded to one that expressed 'Oh shit-' as he saw the horse, the one who could freaking talk, with a knife in his mouth.

Gabriel gulped and began to fight with the pan, smacking against the horse's jaw and face and its blade. The horse was much more matched though, as when he swung, he knocked the pan straight out of Gabriel's hand.

Immediately Gabriel held up his hand in defeat as the horse held the knife in his face.

"Loki-!" Sam called, before tossing his hair over to Gabriel. "Grab on!" He exclaimed.

Gabriel smirked, and gestured with his hand 'adios' to the horse as he was pulled to the water filter lines. He immediately began to run down them, in which the horse then followed.

"Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-" Gabriel cursed as he felt the filter lines under him begin to heave under his weight.

"Curse all of those cupcakes-!" He swore as the lines finally fell, and the canyon began to fill with water from the dam that the filters were collecting it from.

Sam jumped from the ledge he was at and heaved Gabriel away from the wreckage. "You're gojng to drown you idiot!" he yelled at him. Gabriel rolled his eyes. He knew that he himself wasn't going to drown. But Sam was.

Gabriel grunted as he ran, pulling Sam close to him and holding his waist. "Now you're going to also! What were you thinking?!" He exclaimed as he kept running.

Behind him, a familiar face called out a different name than what Sam knew. "Gabriel!" He called.

Gabriel cursed under his breath. "Fuck, let's just get the hell out of here-!" He called.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "B-but who does he mean by G-Gabriel-!" He asked, not being able to finish his question as Gabriel tugged him forward.

Sam's feet were beginning to ache from running without any foot coverage. He knew he wouldn't be able to run much farther. He surveyed the canyon, searching for a way out when he found a small cavern at the edge.

The water was quickly approaching, so they had no choice and no time to test and see if the cavern was deep. Sam pointed at the cave, and Gabriel nodded, running towards it as fast as he could. At least as fast as his vessel could.

A large column of rock began to tumble towards them from the strength of the water pushing it forward. They reached the cave with seconds to spare, with Sam tugging the rest of his hair into the cave and Gabriel snatching up the frying pan that had been swept back to them. As soon as he grabbed the frying pan and pulled it back, the rock collided with the cave's entrance, trapping the three inside.

Crowley curled up in Sam's hair, shivering from fear. Sam was pressed against the back of the cave, and cursed as he couldn't find an immediate way out.

Gabriel sighed as he pressed his hand over a few of the rocks, trying to sense and see if they would lead to their way out. As he did so, he pulled at rocks, trying to see if maybe his grace would work better if he were closer to the surface. In doing so he scrapped his hand, making him hiss and pull his hand back in pain.

"Shit-" he cursed, holding his hand. Sam frowned at his hand, and began to think of how to tell him that he can heal him. Then the water began to fill the cavern up. Slowly, but still entering through the cracks the rock had left.

Gabriel cursed again, knowing he had to save Sam from this watery prison. He took a deep breath for simplicity and dove under the deep, dark and musty water, unable to find anything.

He cursed again and came back up to the surface, wincing at his cut hand. Sam leaned against the wall, feeling terrible and defeated.

Sam watched Gabriel with a sad look. He already knew it was no use. But he was going to try anyway.

Sam took a big gulp of air and tried to search under the rising water for an exit. Gabriel widened his eyes, panicking for Sam's safety as he pulled him back up.

"It's no use, Sam. The water is pitch black. You can't see anything." He assures Sam in a calmer voice. Gabriel got a bit confused. Why now? Was it because after so long of pretending to be human his head was telling him he was going to die? Was he finally admitting to something he refused to acknowledge? No, no he wasn't. Angels didn't love humans. It was crazy. Wasn't it?

Sam slightly sobbed, leaning against Gabriel with a hiccup in his chest. "I'm sorry... I never should have left my stupid tower... then you wouldn't..." Sam whimpers, tears running down his cheeks.

Gabriel felt something halt in his chest, a feeling maybe. He hesitantly wrapped an arm around Sam, holding him close to his frame and sighing, looking down at the rapidly rising water. So this was it. This was going to be his end. He'd spend forever down here because the water wasn't going to go away and it was too dark to see anything. He was going to waste away here with Sam withering away with him.

Was it too late for confessions?

Gabriel tilted Sam's chin up from where he had been hunched down in the water. "Hey... since... since this is kinda the end for me, I wanted you to know I..." he started. He was going to be here forever. No one would find out.

Sam wiped his eyes and stood up again, holding onto Gabriel. "You what?" He asks, sniffling.

Gabriel let out a sigh before he finally continued. "My real name isn't Loki. I... I'm not even human. My name is Gabriel." He confessed, closing his eyes shamefully. He felt bad for keeping this from Sam all of a sudden. Was it really that much of a burden on him? He guessed so.

Sam chuckled sadly, holding onto Gabriel still and sniffling. "Well... no one else is gonna know, right?" He asks in a sad laugh. Gabriel smiled mournfully and nodded.

"I... I have magic hair that glows when I sing." He admits, looking down at the rising water. Gabriel gives Sam a bewildered look.

"Wait... what?" He asks, squeezing Sam closer. Sam widened his eyes, looking at Gabriel as he realized with a smile.

"I have--magic hair that glows when I sing!" He reiterates in an exclaimation. He looks down at the water that was now at his shoulders and began to sing the spell as the water finally rose above their heads.

"Flower gleam and glow, let your power shine-" he sang quickly before taking in a large gulp of air before the water engulfed them.

A few seconds pass before a golden glow can be seen in the water. Gabriel lets out a bit of his air he had taken in in surprise. Sam forced his eyes open, and looked for where they could maybe find a way out.

Thats when he saw his hair being drawn towards an area of rocks that seemed looser than the others. Sam gave Gabriel a look before he swam towards the cluster of rocks and began pulling the rocks away, clearing an opening.

Gabriel hissed a bit as his hand got more irritated. He'd have to heal it when they reached the surface. Sam took over and started to pull the rocks away faster, and finally reached the other side, his arm pushing through.

After a good long and hard push from both of them, the wall of rocks caved in, and the three were launched out of the cavern.

Gasping, they both heaved themselves onto the shore. Sam looked over at Gabriel and raised an eyebrow as he panted. "I-I thought you weren't...weren't human, how come you need air?" He chuckled weakily.

Gabriel glared at him in annoyance as he pulled himself back onto the ground, offering Sam his hand. Sam took it and Gabriel pulled him onto the grass.

"Hey, pretending to be human for so long, you kinda have habits you can't get rid of." He explains, pulling Sam over and away from the water.

Gabriel takes a seat on a fallen log, and starts to manually dry his clothes with his grace.

Sam glances over at him as he wrings out his hair one portion at a time. "You know, I could use a bit of help over here." He teased. Gabriel rolled his eyes and faced his cut hand towards Sam, and began to try and use his grace.

Sam instead scooted himself closer, taking Gabriel's hand in his. "Wait, just... let me do this, okay?" He asks. Gabriel raised an eyebrow.

"What are you going to do?" He asks. He looks down and sees Crowley curl up in Sam's hair, almost expectant.

Sam sighed and looked up into Gabriel's eyes. "Look, my hair... it doesn't just glow." He starts. Gabriel raised an eyebrow, shaking his head in confusion.

Sam sighed and wrapped Gabriel's hand in his hair. He didn't care that Crowley had been in his hair. Though the rat had never actually done it before.

"Just... please, you said you aren't human so, don't freak out, alright?" He says, giving Gabriel a wary look.

Gabriel mouths a 'what' before Sam starts to sing again, forcing him to be quiet.

"Flower gleam and glow, let your power shine," he starts, the roots of his hair beginning to glow. Gabriel widens his eyes again, thankful to be able to see the magic in person and without being on Death's dinner plate.

"Make the clock reverse, bring back what once was mine," Sam continues, more of his hair taking on the golden glow. "Heal what has been hurt, change the fates design," he sings, closing his eyes as he sang. Almost like he'd had to do this over and over again. A thousand times.

"Save what has been lost, bring back what once was mine, what once was mine." He finishes, and then looks up at Gabriel, taking his hair off of his hand, which now had no sign of ever being cut in the first place.

Gabriel widened his eyes, and almost began to freak out at how in the hell a human had that ability, when he looked behind Sam, and immediately stood up, pulling him behind him. A figure had been standing behind him, a rather rounded figure.

"I said don't freak out-oh my god what is that?!" Sam exclaimed, hiding behind Gabriel.

"You really don't recognize me, Moose? Of course I am missing the little pink tail and buck teeth. Would you like me to squeak for you?" A british accent asks, the figure stepping over to them. Into the light steps a man who was now dressed in a suit-like attire with a red tie to match. He had a black beard that wasn't too long, and his hairline was receeding.

Sam tilted his head in confusion, stepping forward. "C-crowley?" He asks. The man smirked and rang an invisible bell.

"We have a winner, this one. Yes, I was your little rat friend. Your 'father' cursed me. I was just trying to help you." He says in an annoyed voice.

Sam still stood there in shock. This was really Crowley? The rat that always gave him advice? Perhaps.

Sam then smiled at Crowley, pulling him into a tight hug.

Crowley let out a sound of discomfort, and waited for Sam to stop the hug. "Thank you... well, I'm not one for affection, sorry." He admits, running a hand up and down his suit.

Sam broke the hug and rubbed his neck. "S-sorry... I just... I never knew. I would have helped you sooner if I did." He says.

Crowley shrugged. "There is only so much you can say when you are a two toothed rodent that only eats cheese." He says, looking over at Gabriel.

Gabriel was still in disbelief, running a hand through his own hair. "So-so you're like... you were cursed?" He asks.

Crowley rolls his eyes. "Yes, how many times must I say it?" He asks, gesturing at him. "For an angel you are really stupid." He says.

Sam does a double take and looks between Gabriel and Crowley. "A-an angel?" He asks.

Gabriel rubbed his neck. "Told ya I wasn't human." He admits. Sam puts his head in his hands and shook his head.

"Okay... lets... lets just build a fire. We need to settle in for the night anyway." He says, looking back up at Gabriel.

Gabriel winked and nodded. "Sure thing." He says, snapping his fingers and building a fire out of thin air.

Sam rolled his eyes and looked at the fire Gabriel just conjured out of thin air. This was all too much. The flame was real, he checked as soon as the fire came into existance.

Gabriel took a seat again. "So, are we asking questions now? Cause I got one for you Moose." He says, looking at Sam.

Sam looked up from the fire and away from his thoughts. "Hm? What?" He asks. Crowley narrowed his eyes at Gabriel, wary of what he was going to ask.

Gabriel cleared his throat at Crowley's stare, gulping for a moment. "Anyway... Sam, what's with that one brown strand of hair? Its like, the only part that didn't glow when you sang." He asks. Crowley growled and Sam put a hand on his shoulder to assure him Gabriel wasn't in the wrong.

"Well... when I was young, my father told me some people tried to cut my hair when I was born. And when they did..." he stopped, pulling the strand into his lap. "It turned dark brown. It lost its power. So he resolved to keeping me in the tower. To keep me and this gift safe." He explains, running his hand through the darker strand.

Gabriel opened his mouth to speak, but as his eyes trailed up he gulped. He cleared his throat and stood up. "You know what? I'm... I'm gonna go get some more fire wood. Crowley, come with me. I could use the help." He says, and soon after walks away, Crowley behind him, grumbling in annoyance.

Sam smiled at Gabriel as he walked away, before he heard a rustle behind him.

#sabriel #spn #spnfamily #supernatural #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #sabrielspn #sabriel/tangled #supernatural/tangled #gabriel/sam #sam/gabriel

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bowlegsandbiceps · 4 years

Text

Suptober Day 6: Mask

LoveBlock

Mature / A/B/O Dynamics, Reality Show AU / Destiel / 2,735 words (Incomplete)

Read on AO3

Suptober Masterlist (A03)

Week 1

Castiel Novak tugged at the starched collar of his shirt, shifting from foot to foot in too-tight shoes. It was customary that the Alpha wore a tuxedo to the initial meeting though he wished that he’d insisted on that changing as well. The network had wanted something big for the fifth season of LoveBlock, something different. When Castiel got the call that he was one of the finalists chosen to be that year’s Alpha, he’d been understandably confused given that he’d not entered.

Change #1: Alphas were nominated by family or friends. Thanks, Gabriel.

Castiel did everything he could to throw the interview. He was gruff, unsmiling, and showed up with bedhead wearing the hideous trench coat their grandmother gave him when he’d gone off to college. He went out of his way to be cantankerous and rude, refusing to answer some questions and providing terrible answers to others.

Change #2: The chosen Alpha was quiet, withdrawn, and definitely not interested in finding their true mate. One might even call him an asshole.

In the end, Castiel had agreed to participate for two reasons and two reasons only. Gabriel would be given a huge promotion based on the fact that he’d convinced someone with no desire to be on the show to be their grumpy, jerk of an Alpha for the season, thus finally getting him out of Castiel’s condo. And the other…

Change #3: Contestants could reject the Alpha meaning any contestant that dropped out before Hometown week would be competing on a new network show, EscapePlan, to win $50,000. If the Alpha made it to the finale with any contestants left, he and his chosen mate would both win $100,000

“Stop fidgeting.” Gabriel nudged Castiel in such a way that the point of his elbow rolled painfully over the bone in his bicep, a practiced move he’d perfected when they were children.

Castiel flinched away but stood straighter. “My feet hurt. Why does the Alpha have to be in formal dress? The other contestants have to show their personalities not just with their masks but their clothes too. Why-“

“Shhh, my boss is coming!” Gabriel muttered out of the side of his mouth before stepping forward and extending his hand. “Mr. Shurley! So glad you could make it!”

Chuck Shurley gave a small, friendly wave in lieu of shaking Gabriel’s hand, and Gabe dropped it cringing. “Sorry, no offense man I just don’t shake hands. Nothing personal, promise.”

“No no, sorry I uh, forgot.” Gabe scratched his ear before he turned abruptly to Castiel. “You remember my brother.”

“Yes, of course. I liked the promos you did. They were very controversial. Exactly what we were looking for.” Chuck gave Castiel a nod. Castiel pressed his lips together in a caricature of a smile, but his disdain was evident. Chuck just grinned. “Gonna be a good season.” He looked over his shoulder at the commotion as Fergus Crowley moved towards them.

“Gents,” he said by way of greeting. “Chuck,” he added with a smirk, and Chuck gave a rueful smile in return.

“Glad to have you back, Crowley.” Chuck’s tone implied he was not remotely glad to have Crowley back.

“Glad you agreed to my demands during contract negotiations.” Crowley beamed with a smarmy grin.

Castiel looked to Gabriel who’s lips were puckered, eyes rolling up to look at the palm trees hanging over where they stood at the edge of the beach house’s wide circular drive. That was the face Gabe made when he was trying not to laugh. Castiel began to open his mouth to ask when he received another sharp jab to his upper arm.

“Let’s get started shall we?” Gabe gestured towards the space to the left where Castiel assumed visitors would park but was now lit and prepped for Crowley’s opening remarks before the cattle call began.

How do we fall in love? Do we see someone across the room, strike up a conversation, and the rest is history? Do we catch a whiff of a tantalizing or homey scent and follow the instincts of our secondary gender all the way to mating? Or is it possible to fall in love without seeing someone’s face? Without catching their scent?

For the last four seasons, we’ve been asking this question and so followed four alphas on the journey to true love. We watched them try and see past the contestants’ masks, week after week. We saw scent bonds break emotional bonds once the blockers came off. And we cheered when our Alpha looked into the face of his or her potential One True Mate.

This year, we do it again with an entirely new set of rules and an Alpha as you’ve never seen one. Welcome to LoveBlock.

The first limousine slithered up the drive toward Castiel, and he stood stock-still, hands crossed in front of himself. Gabriel had said it made him look like security and not the show’s Alpha, so Castiel had decided that would be how he would stand for the rest of his life. He did his best to ignore the camera to his left and the six or so people behind it as well as the camera to the right and its gaggle of crew meant to capture the contestants as he rushed over to help the contestant climb out of the limo.

Castiel stayed put, the moment stretching, and finally, the door opened, and what looked like the head of a wolf peeked out. “Um.”

“Come on then,” Castiel unclasped his hands to motion them forward, and he could hear the person give a stuttered, o-o-oh…, before a motorcycle boot appeared out the door. A slender woman in a leather jacket and jeans with a frighteningly furry mask walked over to him.

Castiel squinted his eyes. “You’re a horror fan.”

He felt the woman’s surprise more than saw it because well, obviously, and her voice was breathless when she asked, “How did you know?”

Castiel fought the urge to roll his eyes, but his tone made his disdain clear. “Lucky guess.”

The woman hugged him anyway and went off to her first impression interview.

Hannah, Office Assistant, Beta

“Wow, they weren’t kidding when they said this Alpha was different! I mean still handsome,” Hannah paused, to tip her head from side to side, shifting the wolf-head mask in her lap, “which won’t matter in the end I know, I know. But if the guy is gonna be grumpy to start?” Hannah’s blue eyes widened emphatically as she pushed out her lower lip and her huff made her dark bangs flutter. “It’s nice that’s he’s something to look at, you know?”

And so it went for three more contestants. April, a plain brunette Beta who wore safety goggles and a medical mask, was deeply unimpressed that Castiel didn’t understand that she was a dental hygienist from her face coverings. Inias, a male Omega in a suit and the plain, white drama mask they used for group dates before The Scenting, told Castiel he’d have to work to get to know him. Castiel immediately decided he was going home that night. Then Kevin, an Omega college student wearing a giant paper mâché pie on his head, but instead of the typical latticed crust, it contained the numbers 3.14 because he liked math as well as desserts.

There was a bit of a delay after the fifth contestant exited the limo in an evening gown, fiery red hair pulled into an elegant up-do, wearing a printed paper mask with Crowley’s face on it.

“Mother!”

The woman huffed and halted barely two steps out of the limo. “Fergus, you’ve ruined the take! D’you want me to do it again?”

Castiel was intrigued by her Scottish burr as well as the fact that Gabriel had managed to get Fergus Crowley’s mother to compete on the show her son hosted and that was notorious for hookups with at least one group nude exhibition a season. That had to be some kind of miracle from the TV gods. Gabe did say he felt like this season had been blessed.

Once the yelling stopped, and Rowena, mother of one, Beta sashayed off to do her interview, the limo returned with another contestant. Word must have gotten out that he wasn’t opening the door for anyone, so this time, there was no wait, the door swinging open, and a hand curled over the top of the car while a dusty boot hit the ground. A fit young man pulled himself out, wearing a ripped pair of jeans and a Led Zeppelin t-shirt with a green and black plaid flannel over it, a welding mask covering his face. Castiel nearly rolled his eyes again as the man strode forward, hand extended.

“Hey man, D-”

Castiel cut him off as he clasped his hand tight, feeling the roughness of his palm, callouses on the fingertips. “You’re an artist.”

The welding mask tipped to the side, the man’s body stiffening before his grip became crushing, a throaty chuckle echoing from behind the metal. “Not even close. Mechanic.” Castiel winced as his hand was pumped vigorously. “Dean Winchester. Nice to meet ya.”

Castiel looked off-camera to Gabe. “I thought you said you weren’t bringing in Alphas this year.” His attention returned to Dean as he laughed harder this time.

“Wrong again. Man, this is gonna be fun.” Castiel jumped as one large hand clapped hard against his sternum twice before Dean began to walk away.

Castiel turned to watch him go, taking in his bow-legged gait as he entered the house to go do his first impression interview.

Dean was directed to a stool in the entryway situated in front of a camera and surrounded by lights. He plopped down, heaving a sigh as he flipped up his welding mask before pulling it off his head. He tried his best to ignore the murmurs from the women behind the camera as he dropped it to the floor with one hand, patting his hair down with the other. When he looked up, he could see everyone behind the camera had red eyes, except for the redheaded woman with the clipboard who looked annoyed.

“Sorry about them,” she muttered, jutting a thumb over her shoulder, and the Alphas blinked themselves back to brown or blue, “but in their defense I’m a Beta and a lesbian and woof your face is still pretty impressive.”

Dean managed to fight a blush as he gave a good-natured laugh. “It’s fine I get that a lot.” Dean shifted on his stool, situating his face into a calm, attentive expression, and waited for the Beta producer to look her fill.

“If you could start by stating your name, occupation and secondary gender for the graphics team. This is what will show at the bottom of the screen during your interviews.”

Dean gave a short nod. “I’m Dean Winchesteeeer…” He reached up to scratch at his ear. “Uh, mechanic.” He flicked up a hand and took a deep breath, sighing out, “Omega,” before letting his hand fall to his knee with a thump. It wasn’t enough to mask the unmistakable interested growls of the Alphas on the crew. The producer actually looked over her shoulder and glared at them.

“Go outside. All of you. Yes all of you the camera is stationary and already rolling I can turn it off when we’re done. Thank you. Byyyyyyye.”

Dean chuckled as the alpha cameraman and the other two, whatever they did, sulked away to the snack table. Dean let his amusement sit on his face as he looked back at the producer, who gave him a strained smile. “Sorry, again.”

“Not a problem. I figured I’d be just another piece of meat here anyway.” Dean gave an unaffected wave, and the producer frowned, marked something on her clipboard.

“I’m Charlie Bradbury-“

“Executive producer.” Dean nodded and stretched out a hand. “Nice to put a face to the name in the credits.”

Charlie shook his hand and gave him a surprised smile. “You watch the show?”

“Yeah!” Dean’s face scrunched as if to say, of course, I do, and Charlie tried to force back a laugh but only succeeded in choking herself. She knew the resulting grin he gave her was going to turn Alphas’ eyes red on couches across the country when this aired.

“So did you nominate yourself?”

Dean snorted. “No, no. I was completely content with this being my Thursday night guilty pleasure,” the guy actually licked his lips after he said it, and Charlie made a note to check if he’d done any acting. “My little brother actually nominated me. Said I need to find a nice Alpha and settle down.”

“That’s sweet.” Charlie jotted down, interview brother. “How old is your brother?”

“22,” Dean gave a casual shrug of his shoulder at Charlie’s questioning blink. “Yeah I know he’s also 6’4 so he’s really not that little but old habits die hard ya know? He’s in his first year at law school. He actually started watching the show his freshman year of college. It was one of those excuses to get everyone on the floor in the rec room and make friends.” Dean turned his head, squinting at the camera. “There may also have been a girl involved.”

Charlie let herself laugh this time. “But you also watch the show you said.”

Dean gave a nod. “Yeah, I mean he was in college and I didn’t understand half the shit… er, sorry.” Dean winced, and Charlie waved a hand before giving a sharp clap of her hands that made Dean jump.

“It’s so audio can find the cut faster. Makes a big jagged line in the file,” Charlie explained, and Dean’s eyebrows rose, lips twisting in an impressed expression. “Can you begin again at ‘I didn’t understand?’”

Dean cleared his throat and shifted on his stool again. “Uh yeah, um. I didn’t understand have the things he was talking about. I mean like I said I’m just a mechanic with a GED and a give em hell attitude.” He winked at her, and she rolled her eyes but grinned nonetheless. She was definitely going to be rooting for this guy. “But he went on and on about the show because, like I said,” Dean widened his eyes and muttered conspiratorially through closed teeth, “there may have been a girl involved,” He shook his head and smile. “So I started watching just to have something to talk about with him.” Dean rubbed his palms up and down his thighs a few times. “Well and to help the poor kid talk to the girl. He’s smart and an Alpha but man is he bad with the ladies.” Dean gave a smirk that morphed into a grin before he looked at the floor.

“So are you looking for your One True Mate?” Charlie felt a warm flutter in her chest as Dean lifted his head, green eyes wide and full lips parted in genuine surprise before a blush began to creep up his neck.

“Ah… you know…” Dean grimaced and hissed, giving the camera a side-eye. “I’m not sure they exist.” He gave a shrug. “I mean, that Alpha out there?” Dean jutted a thumb over his shoulder and raised his eyebrows. “Not a bad looking dude. I wouldn’t kick him out of bed.” Dean smirked again and chuckled. “But did my insides go gooey at the first whiff of his scent?” Dean scrunched his nose and shook his head.

Charlie smiled. “What did he smell like to you?”

Dean rolled his eyes before closing them and doing a slow-motion fist pump as he mouthed yes. “The first smell montage. Seriously,” Dean gestured with both hands splaying his fingers and then wiggling them excitedly. “It’s my favorite.”

He cleared his throat as Charlie laughed again.

“Uh…hmmmm.” He pursed his lips, looking up and to the right, and Charlie was convicted this guy had at least modeled before because he found the light instantly. His eyes tightened just enough to slant his expression into a sultry stare but let the green of his eyes stay visible. “Rain.” He gave a satisfied nod and looked back at her. “Or, really, a thunderstorm. That thick smell before the thunder and lightening show starts.”

He nodded again, a wistful smile pulling at his lips. “Which seems pretty appropriate given the circumstances.”

#suptober20 #suptober #destiel #spn fanfic #fanfic: supernatural #writing by me

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