#crowley just terrifying him to spite him.
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as part of the getting-worse-before-it-gets-better portion of aziraphale and crowley's season 3 relationship arc we NEED a desperate "i love you" from aziraphale met with a hissed, spiteful, and quickly regretted "i forgive you" from crowley
#good omens#ineffable divorce#aziracrow#ineffable husbands#i really want things to get as bad as they can possibly get before their relationship#is saved and actualized if you couldn't tell.#like yes i want them to make up and have a big fabulous kiss together sheltered under a canopy in the rain#and then spend the rest of their eternity together on earth in blissful love#but i also want them to be really unstable for a bit#spiteful crowley. aziraphale blurting out a confession no buildup no apology#because he thinks that'll fix everything.#more miscommunication to give more weight to their final climactic episode where they actually work things out.#crowley has to give him a lift and they start arguing and he blasts queen in the bentley#and takes them careening down oxford street at 120 miles per hour#grinning and laughing manically while aziraphale screams and hangs onto the baby basket he's holding#containing the second coming of jesus for dear life.#crowley just terrifying him to spite him.#i want them to do and say fucked up things to each other! do you get it?
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I was ENTIRELY too nice in that last ficlet, and we cannot have that. Since that phrase is going to be stuck in my brain for a while, enjoy "they aren't talking" take two.
This time with more pain <3 You're very welcome.
-
They aren't talking.
Crowley is exhausted, Aziraphale is spiteful, and so, as they inevitably begin to orbit around one another once more, it is in a cutting silence. It hurts somewhere deep in their chests, a hollow with empty claws reaching out and being denied what it wants, what it needs.
I miss you, is written in the air between them, always a few steps apart, always far enough away to make it look deliberate, to make a point. Dark glasses cover Crowley's eyes, his face a chiselled mask of petrified longing, and the purple irises that Aziraphale returns with are enough to deter Crowley from meeting his gaze.
Blue, they were blue. He remembers. a storm-grey, summer-sky-bright, sparkling and familiar and alive—dimmed to a bleached-out violet, a hyacinth blossom on the verge of rotting.
Come back, he breathes, listening to the melodic cadence of his voice as it drifts through the bookstore, finally at home. They do not talk to each other, but they talk to everyone else; not that they had another choice with yet another apocalypse about to end them all.
Crowley's fingers twitch, his body constantly leaning and stumbling when it finds not the subconsciously expected shoulder but emptiness, and he catches Aziraphale lifting his hands in his periphery, almost reaching out to steady him.
Almost.
Angels descend, demons ascend, and it is chaos. It is plans going wrong and the sky turning red, it is running and thinking and praying. Even right in the middle of Armageddon number two, they still do not talk, distracted and frenzied now, less intentional, more habitual.
Then the world tilts, blinding white ripping through his body like it's nothing, meeting a black hole where his grace had been and setting fire to his heart.
The why, who, how, where—none of it matters, not to him, not to Aziraphale, who screams his name. His knees meet the ground with a dull crack, and Crowley blinks through the lightning bolts in his vision to see scared blue eyes, wide open and heavy with tears. Relief washes over him, his thoughts narrowing to he's back, he's mine again, he's back.
"Crowley," soft, terrified, desperate, and the most beautiful sound he has ever heard.
They aren't talking.
A strangled sob escapes his aching chest, darkness swallowing him whole to soothe the pain eating away at him. He will wake later, he hopes, if just to hear Aziraphale say his name again. To hear it gentle and amused, to hear it pressed against his skin, his lips, to hear it over and over and over for all the times they did not, could not.
Aziraphale is praying. Crowley is silent.
They aren't talking.
#alex writes good omens#good omens#ineffable husbands#they aren't talking#crowley#aziraphale#good omens season 2#go2#aziracrow#crowley x aziraphale#ineffable divorce#the final fifteen#good omens 3
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the way they acknowledged all the hurt gabriel had caused them both, especially crowley, how profoundly he'd had them terrified for thousands of years, how he had been one of the singular reasons they were unable to ever act on their feelings for each other, and then turned around and gave him the happy ending they'd been yearning for instead. I think that's honestly why I'm more upset than anything. I cannot make my peace with the way this played out because letting gabriel and beelzebub, the two characters who were most instrumental in trying to destroy crowley and aziraphale for loving each other last season, go off together with no punishment and no questions asked, letting them do the exact thing they made aziraphale and crowley too scared to do for literal fucking millennia, is so unbelievably cruel, so intentionally spiteful towards them and us, that it makes me sick to my fucking stomach just thinking about it. it's such a slap in the face. the fact they went as far to have crowley sit gabriel down and tell him just how much he hates him for what he did to the man he loved, for keeping them apart, for making sure that he never got to be with aziraphale in the way he wanted, only to watch him get literally everything he'd ached for for his entire fucking existence, without working for it, without apologising, would have been sickening enough, but for then to put crowley through losing aziraphale again as a direct result of that. it's sick. it's twisted. and I am not going to forgive.
#fuck you. fuck gabriel. fuck neil gaiman. fuck this entire season#it was CRUEL. there was no justice there was no relief. they will never be free#and that would be bad enough#but to watch someone else get exactly what they wanted.#especially someone like gabriel.#it crosses a line. a line i didnt know was there but i know its been fucking crossed now#you dont DO THAT.#good omens#good omens spoilers#meta tag
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June recs
June was full of Neil Gaiman fandoms: first I rewatched Good Omens S1 (S2 on Friday!!!) and then plowed through my backlog of fic to read, and then I watched The Sandman. So there's six Good Omens recs, two Sandman recs, and one lone but lovely Goblin Emperor rec.
GOOD OMENS
Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach by Nnm / @mouseonamoose
Amazing story about Crowley going to therapy, from his therapist's POV. The author clearly knows their stuff and Aubrey is a vivid character in her own right with her own journey to go on. This one's been recced all over, but it really is that good.
dearly departed by attheborder / @areyougonnabe
In which Crowley gets discorporated and many shenanigans ensue - the London occultist underworld, lust-demons, Hell bureaucracy, Aziraphale vs loopholes, fake marriage, and of course, a happy ending. Slightly morbid at times but a fun hilarious romp.
Temptation by out_there / @out-there-tmblr
Lovely look at Crowley tempting Christ (as he mentions to Aziraphale), and the lasting effect it has on him.
the deft, sweet gesture of your hand by deadgreeks / @mortuarybees
Post-S1, Crowley turns up injured at the bookshop and Aziraphale takes care of him. Such a tender romance, such warm h/c. Poetry! Knitting! Pining! Ferociously protective Aziraphale!
Hell to Pay by battle_cat / @fuckyeahisawthat
"In the midst of the Great Fire of London, Crowley does an emergency good deed too undemonic for Hell to ignore." Wistful h/c.
Lead me to the banquet hall by obstinatrix & wishwellingtons
In which Crowley doesn't eat around Aziraphale because he has too many Feelings about it - and then Aziraphale finds out. Creative, delightful, hot, and well-characterized!
You can also find my older Good Omens recs on Pinboard!
SANDMAN
Spite (Is As Good A Reason As Any) by Blue_Sunshine
In which Hob doesn't just build an inn and pine after 1989, but hires Johanna Constantine to help him track down Dream. Great AU in many directions, and the Hob-Johanna friendship is a complete scene-stealing delight. (If you like them as much as I did, there's another WIP that just finished: Totus Mundus Agit Histrionem, which kicks off with Johanna rescuing Hob from a demonic possession.)
Passing the Time by Anonymous
Dream passes time in the fishbowl by quietly terrorizing his guards. (The author tagged this 'Dream is petty and terrifying' and I couldn't agree more.) Viciously funny but also a little heartbreaking.
GOBLIN EMPEROR
Between the Grave and the Well by Sphragis
"In which Iäna Pel-Thenhior catches a fever and Thara Celehar catches feelings." Gorgeous hurt/comfort-y get-together that really captures the characters and the world.
#good omens#crowley/aziraphale#the sandman#sandman#aziraphale/crowley#goblin emperor#thara/iana#fic rec#monthly recs
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Enemies to Lovers Part Ten
Summary: You've finally come to terms you are in love with Vil...but will your kiss save him from the sleeping curse?
Chapters One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Epilogue
You rushed to the NRC hospital wing as fast as your feet could take you. You rounded the corner, and nearly slammed directly into the door of the hospital wing. You took a breath, and opened the door, before slowly walking over to Vil.
Rook must've been keeping his hair and makeup styled, because he looked almost exactly how you remembered him looking. His hair was in his typical style, the only difference being it was slightly longer. His makeup was pristine. As you noticed the first time, you'd have thought he was simply sleeping after school or work.
Now that you were by his side….you were terrified. Yes, you'd realized you loved him, but what if he had moved on? What if you kissed him, and his eyes remained closed forever?
Your heart would break, that's what would happen.
But…what if it did wake him up?
What if your kiss brought him back?
What if he still loved you?
Stealing your courage, you leaned down, and softly pressed your lips to Vil's. You held there for two seconds just to make sure it would last long enough to fully work, since you weren't sure how fast something like this worked.
You felt an arm wrap around your middle, and work its way through your hair, as the lips you were pressed to began to move and deepen the kiss.
With a start, you backed away, pressing your hands to your face.
Vil's gaze was incredibly smug as he looked at you. He propped himself up on his elbows, and grinned.
"I guess I didn't misread the situation, did I, my Apple blossom?"
He was probably expecting some kind of retort or sarcastic remark, but instead you let out a choked sob, and wrapped your arms around him. You felt him gently rubbing your back, and whispering calming words in your ear.
"I thought I'd never get to see you again," you sputtered out.
"Well, I'm here. I'm back, my apple blossom. And I promise you, I'm never leaving you again," he whispered.
Suddenly, you both heard the sound of glass shattering, followed by a "Mon dieu!"
By the time you could fathom what had happened, another set of arms was around you, as Rook rattled off rapid fire French.
….
Ironically, after Vil had been woken up, you had had little time with him. First, every student came to see him. Then, the nurses had made everyone leave so they could do checks on him. Then Malleus returned to do a magical checkup. Then, Vil was in meetings with Crowley off and on for two weeks, followed by him having to do a press release, various interviews, and then a witness testimony for the court case.
Really, you'd only been able to spend that first hour he was awake with him.
So when someone threaded their fingers with yours at the end of a class one day, you were obviously startled.
You looked at the offender, and saw Vil, beaming with a mischievous grin. He brought your connected hands to his lips, and pressed a soft kiss to the back of your hand.
"I missed you," he said, nuzzling his cheek against your hand.
"Yeah, well, I didn't miss you," you muttered half heartedly.
He laughed brightly, and said in a sing song voice, "I think we both know that's not true."
Suddenly he was pouting.
"I hope we don't have to make it a habit of me getting cursed so that you can be honest with yourself and me."
"Next time, I'm not waking you up," you sighed.
He pulled your hand and tugged you close to him. He released the hand, and wrapped his arm around your waist, pressing you even closer. He traced your lips with the index finger on the other hand. The ticklish feeling it left behind made you smile slightly in spite of yourself
"If you aren't the one to save me, I don't want to be saved," he whispered. "I am madly in love with you, Y/N. And I want to spend my life with you."
"What are you say…"
He pressed his lips to yours. Now that he was fully in control, it was breathtaking. You had woken him up with the first kiss, but he was waking you up now.
"I want you to be mine," he breathed against your lips, and began pressing soft kisses along your jaw, as he continued whispering. "And after that, I want you to be my spouse. I want to live life with you. Grow old with you. Be there for you."
He halted his kisses and pressed a finger to your lips.
"All you have to do...is say yes."
....
Tag list-@stygianoir @shytastemakerthing @da-disappointment @iruiji
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#vil schoenheit x reader#vil x reader#vil schoenheit#twst vil
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More Ditto!Yuu HCs/info
-They bounce...
- For instance, when Jamil threw them across the dessert they bounced about 5 times before finally stopping.
- They did NOT like being thrown.
- They do hold a grudge against Jamil.
- During the events of book 5 Vil and Rook have to tell Ditto!Yuu to stop transforming into giant bugs and chasing Jamil around.
- They still turned their head into a giant spider during lunch just to disturb Jamil.
-Vil was so disappointed.
-Ditto!Yuu did stop, but only because Vil lectured them for three hours because Jamil was starting to get paranoid, and stay awake all night, thus causing him to have bags under his eyes, but also because Jamil was starting to lose his voice from the screaming.
-Also, after the events of chapter 4, once Crowley got back, Ditto!Yuu snuck into his office, under the door.
-Crowley was mildly terrified, he had no idea that this student could almost completely liquefy themself.
-Ditto!Yuu then proceeded to "eat" the phone that he gave them out of anger and spite.
-Ditto!Yuu dissolved most of the phone, except the sim card snx the SD card, which they spat out at him indignantly, hitting his mask with both. Then they left his office in the exact manner that they entered.
-Lazy bird man is so confused. On one hand, he's upset that they destroyed the phone he so graciously gave them, but on the other hand he's rather impressed, and mildly terrified that they were able to break down a phone within a few seconds.
Spoilers for chapter 6 ahead!
-Ditto!Yuu was delighted to see that Ortho was finally a full-fledged student!
-So delighted that they immediately transformed into a copy of him and bounced around excitedly for about an hour.
-Ortho was happy to see Ditto!Yuu so excited.
-Idia was not.
-It's not that he doesn't like Ditto!Yuu, but it's weird that there's a student who is essentially a sentient slime.
#Ditto!Yuu#Ditto Yuu#twisted wonderland#disney twst#twst wonderland#twst#ditto!yuu#ditto yuu#twisted wonderland idia#idia twst#idia shroud twst#idia shroud#ortho twisted wonderland#Ortho shroud#twst idia#twst ortho#dire crowley#twst crowley#Dire Crowley twst#vil schoenheit#twisted wonderland vil#twst vil#rook hunt#twst rook#jamil viper#jamil twisted wonderland#jamil twst#twst jamil
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okay yes episode 6 killed us all and there's a lot about this season to love and talk about and dissect but i wanna talk about episode 2, specifically the temptation scene in the cellar because my friend and i were watching it and it got me thinking
so we saw that crowley was the one who got aziraphale into human food, right? which is a super fun character detail but then i thought, why?
crowley doesn't eat, at least not that we ever see. not in that scene, not in any of the restaurant scenes. like it's almost an unspoken agreement that their "lunches" are going to be aziraphale having lunch and crowley just kinda being there. so it's not like crowley wants someone to share meals with or bond over enjoying food with.
and he was so INSISTENT about aziraphale trying it. and then of course, he does and he loves it.
what i think is that crowley absolutely knew aziraphale would like it, because, like he says, he's "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing", and he's been like that since day goddamn one. crowley sees right through the holier-than-thou angelic guard that he uses to protect himself (that's mostly made up of guilt and repression), because crowley is the exact same way (but with curiosity instead of material pleasures).
they're both fallible in a way that makes them both incredibly human, in a way that puts them on their own side, and this scene is where aziraphale realizes that crowley and him are alike in this way, and that crowley seeing this aspect of him isn't a bad thing.
being "human" in the way that he is is aziraphale's deepest insecurity due to his angelic nature and his environment. part of BEING an angel is the constant need to be perfect and holy and untouchable or else you'll fall and then you're cast down for being unforgivably, fundamentally wrong. it's living in constant fear of being "found out". (which is a very queer experience but that's not the point.)
aziraphale is terrified of indulging himself or slipping up or admitting doubt, it's his biggest fear at the time this scene takes place. that's another aspect of himself that crowley recognizes in aziraphale, but one that he doesn't still have. crowley fell. he knows the world doesn't end when you stop being an angel, and he knows that experiencing pleasure doesn't make someone a bad person, or angel, or whatever else. so when he sees that little inner hedonist that aziraphale just can't repress, what does he do? he tempts him into letting go, into indulging himself, because he knows aziraphale will love it.
even if it's "sinful" or "bad" in the eyes of god, it isn't the end of the world. this scene is where aziraphale starts to understand that. and on top of that, he starts to understand that crowley still likes him in spite of his perceived flaws, or maybe BECAUSE of those flaws.
which is why, after so many millennia, crowley still buys him wine and desserts and expensive lunches even though he himself couldn't care less about it. it's why aziraphale acts so differently around crowley than he does in heaven - he's more openly hedonistic and honestly a little bitchy, but that's what makes him easy to love.
this show is so fucking good
#good omens#good omens s2#good omens season 2#good omens spoilers#aziraphale#crowley#ineffable husbands
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HII ROSIE ∅ for Victoria and Keres mayhaps or Camilla and Quincy since he's friends with Byeol-bit :3c
HELLO MERCIE WERCIE 😈😈 your wish is my command fr fr
Much like Jas and UiO, I'll be making a separate post for Cami and Quincy!
Victoria Shard — Thoughts on Keres Perrault
Character Featured: Victoria Shard
Mentioned: Keres Perrault, Dire Crowley, Vil Schoenheit
Warning(s): Crowley mentions/j, Vic being Vic, manipulation (not directed at Keres), potentially ooc
[ Apologies for any out of character moments ]
[ Reblogs > Likes ]
†•°•══════ஓ๑❃๑ஓ══════•°•†
“Keres… I take pity on them, being Crowley's unpaid assistant. Always working so hard, yet barely getting anything in return. If I were Crowley, I would at least give them decent pay. Alas…”
— Victoria Shard
╔══ஓ๑†๑ஓ══╗
Non-verbal Thoughts
╚══ஓ๑†๑ஓ══╝
「 General Thoughts 」
˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ Victoria pities Keres if that wasn't obvious enough.
➜ She doesn't understand why Keres continues to work for Crowley. After all, the headmaster barely even gives Keres a break for all the errands he makes them run.
➜ She's probably tried to sway Crowley into at least giving Keres a salary, but somehow — in spite of his greediness — Crowley didn't accept the bribe.
➜ So, without any further attempts with any sort of success in them, Victoria simply took it upon herself to just… Treat Keres better than Crowley ever had.
↳ Frankly, she's only really doing the bare minimum.
➜ Victoria invites Keres to tea when they aren't flooded with errands thrown at them by Crowley. If they don't like tea, then Victoria would be more than willing to serve them something more to their liking.
➜ Hopefully, Keres can understand that while Victoria may come off as distant and cold (which she is), she still has a heart, and has more than enough hospitality to spare for them.
➜ Although…. There's a possibility that they'd be overwhelmed by how… Nice??? Vic is being to them?? 😭
↳ Given Victoria's reputation, that sort of demeanor coming from her is rather uncharacteristic…
➜ Victoria indulges in the pastries Keres bakes with open arms. Especially if they're chocolate flavored. (Keres probably noticed her love of chocolate, and took that into account when making pastries for her)
➜ While Vic isn't particularly fond of Vil…. She's willing to put up with him if it means getting on Keres' good side. Assuming they are on good terms with the current Pomefiore housewarden, at least.
↳ If not.... She'd consider it a good thing.
༝ㅤ･ㅤ˚ㅤ。ㅤ.ㅤ⋆ㅤ「❃」
「 Interactions 」
❐ More likely than not, Keres must've stumbled upon Victoria while recently finishing an errand for Crowley.
➜ At first, Victoria did nothing more than a couple hums, nods, “yes/nos” to anything Keres said to her. Frankly, given her stature, it wouldn't be surprising if Keres found her…. Err…. Intimidating, to say the least.
➜ But, Victoria is a woman who seeks benefits through information. And so, over time, she began doing as much research on Keres as possible.
↳ If I'm being honest, this woman is fucking terrifying with how thorough she is in gathering info on people 😭
➜ Through this development, she'd discover that Keres was, in fact, childhood friends with Vil. Safe to say, Victoria was Not Pleased. And no one did Not Pleased like Victoria Shard. (She kinda just disregarded that information, as she didn't deem it important enough to benefit from it.)
➜ For the first few interactions they had together, Victoria would only speak to Keres if it meant possibly getting more information about them. Over time, however…. She learned to care for them.
➜ She'd notice how tired Keres would usually be, especially when it came down to following Crowley's errands, doing paperwork, taking over for him from time to time, etc.
➜ Thus, leading to the present day. Victoria , though not openly admitting it, shows concern for Keres — and, by most accounts, treating them with the respect they lacked from Crowley.
↳ In her own way…. Vic's kinda like a mother hen for Keres, in that regard. 💀
†•°•══════ஓ๑❃๑ஓ══════•°•†
#twisted wonderland oc#twst oc#victoria shard#mutuals <3#twst ocs#keres perrault#oc asks!#asks!#mutuals ask#mutuals asks#「🌹」 oc interactions
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𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄 ! ⋆｡°✧
— . . . ❝ take the dream with you, wherever you may go. ❞ . . .
「 the abandoned dormitory next to night raven college. it was inhabited by ghosts that would chase anybody out the moment they stepped foot into the building, but due to certain circumstances, a magicless(?) person and their familiar now lives there. little do most nrc residents know, there were more than just ghosts that haunted the place… 」
YUME DOKUEKI.
⤷ a yakuza member with a very uncanny appearance. they’re surprisingly a friendly guy despite their criminal status, though they can be rather impulsive and reckless. their insatiable hunger proves to be the most dangerous thing about them.
twisted from: eddie brock and venom.
bio
SARAI VANG / YULIANA CROWLEY.
⤷ the so-called “adopted daughter” of the headmaster. a young girl that came to twisted wonderland after ending her own life, she’s not sure if it was reincarnation or something else. apathetic and polite, she’s a big sister figure to adeuce and grim.
twisted from: the raven.
bio
AIKATERINI SIDERIS.
⤷ a child that managed to enter night raven college. energetic but unintentionally morbid, she loves to run around and explore the strange school, seemingly fearless. according to her, she got picked up by a “shiny pumpkin ride”, so how did she end up here?
twisted from: thumbelina.
nothing has been recorded in the books.
U.
⤷ an eccentric, strange anomaly, often stirring up equally strange antics—despite this, he usually has a good heart. he’s cartoonish, in a way. underneath the flamboyant exterior he puts up is a very spiteful man, however…what made him resent twisted wonderland?
twisted from: ???
nothing has been recorded in the books.
GHOST SHAYDE.
⤷ a being from another magical world. even though their appearance is off-putting, ghost is pretty harmless. they do anything anyone tells them, even if it doesn’t want to. it seems to have suffered through a lot, huh? for some reason, it worships nrc as a saving grace…?
twisted from: second star to the right.
nothing has been recorded in the books.
MELODY.
⤷ a recently-built music box robot. chipper girl, she’s always playing happy tunes as she walks. built to sooth humans, she loves to socialize with the other students. unfortunately for her, not a lot of people like the overly pacifistic and gullible types.
twisted from: red riding hood + hugo.
nothing has been recorded in the books.
SENALAT EBENEZAR.
⤷ a reclusive but friendly painter. usually meek, she tends to daydream about stuff and forget her surroundings. however, there are times where she seems almost paranoid, terrified of what may possibly happen to her friends…is she alright?
nothing has been recorded in the books.
ROY BUTCHART.
⤷ the prince of a long-forgotten kingdom. cursed with immortality by a witch, he has spent many centuries wandering all over the world, though he never thought he’d ever go to an entirely different one. destiny is weird. arrogant man vs. arrogant man, who will win?
twisted from: merida.
nothing has been recorded in the books.
ATAJAN NIYAZOVA.
⤷ a retired soldier who somehow got transported to his daughter’s new favorite game. sarcastic but never harsh, he tries to navigate this game with what he remembers from his daughters’ ramblings. dealing with rowdy boys is not good for the old mans’ fatigue.
nothing has been recorded in the books.
GALINA KOVAČ.
⤷ a sweet but overbearing mother who willingly went into the dark carriage despite not knowing what would happen. oddly enough, she isn’t worried about anything even though she’s in a strange world; it’s like she’s gone through this kind of thing before.
twisted from: digory kirke.
nothing has been recorded in the books.
YUDAI TOYA / “SEIYUU”.
⤷ an extremely talented swimmer and musician back in his own world. normally rowdy and passionate, he’s turned rather salty due to losing his voice and becoming paraplegic. he’s trying his best to survive despite his current disabilities.
twisted from: the little mermaid.
hypmic bio
MARY-ANNIE MIRANDA.
⤷ anxious and bashful, it takes a while for her to loosen up but when she does she’s really sweet. unless it’s here, where she is unsettled every second being surrounded by men…sure she wanted to face her fear, but not this soon…
twisted from: ???
nothing has been recorded in the books.
MAXIMILIAN.
⤷ a doll in the basement of ramshackle, maximilian is a human that got cursed by a witch. more outgoing than his sister, he gives advice to the prefect and listens to them when stressed. he tends to blow up rather easily though, so be careful of what you say.
twisted from: hansel.
nothing has been recorded in the books.
MARGARETTA.
⤷ a doll in the basement of ramshackle, margaretta is a human that got cursed by a witch. more timid than her brother, she gives gifts to the prefect to hopefully relieve them of stress. in contrast to her delicacy, she’s quick to suggest violence to solve problems.
twisted from: gretel.
nothing has been recorded in the books.
𝐀𝐋𝐋 / 𝐌𝐈𝐗𝐄𝐃 !
nothing has been recorded in the books.
#masterlist#ramshackle#twisted wonderland oc#twst oc#twst mc#twisted wonderland mc#twst#twisted wonderland
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Just had an interesting thought. What Disney villain aligns with some or all of the girls more negative personality traits? I discussed this with a friend over vc. For Lizzie (the MC of crossover fic I'm cowriting with a friend) is most like the Evil Queen due to her being petty, selfish, jealous and vindictive. She said Addie is like a mixture of Hades and Jafar due to her being kinda sassy, manipulative, and her toxic girl boss tendencies. (Honestly, I can also see her being like Deadpool in a superhero AU, and the fact that her and Ryan Reynolds are both Canadian also adds to that. But he's not an animated Disney character and is more of an antihero, so that doesn't count.) Also, I find it funny, since their dark sides mirror the Great Seven figure that their love interests are twisted from...minus Hades, I guess. xD
After much deliberation... I believe I have some. I stuck with the actual villains not antagonists for this one to show off the bad bad traits and not characters flaws.
Val- as a whole in Thorns and Ink id say her wishy washy/all or nothing attitude to things is her biggest flaw which I feel is very similar to Madam Mim from Sword in the Stone. She's very much not above changing the rules to suit her needs and wants, even if that isn't fair to others. (Something we're going to get to see 10 fold in Roses and Blank Pages thanks to previously unseen factors)
Kris- Hopper from Bugs Life. She very much finds security in the status quo and is terrified from veering from it and acknowledging people can be different. Would rather force people into the boxes she's assigned them because it feels safer then letting people in.
Anne- ironically Maleficent, since that is about the same level of spite and petty that Anne can be when she feels like someone slighted her. You can't tell me Anne wouldn't curse a baby out of spite if she was Maleficent, you just can't.
Jude- I wasn't going to say Jafar at first because Jude can keep her know-it-all attitude in check sometimes... and then I remembered Jafar said 'bet' when Aladdin dared him to become a Genie and got himself trapped in a lamp and I feel that is something Jude would do if I was honest. (Not disney but also Pitch Black for his comment about ignoring Jack cause that also feels like Jude)
Kim- Evil Queen or Mother Gothal. Both for the sheer amount of weight she puts into looks and appearance. A little more Evil Queen because of what she did to Jude's costume
Eva- She gives me Yzma with her level of annoyed "I'm smarter then everyone here" attitude. Like sometimes I swear I can feel the 'no one appreciates me in my time' and 'you are all peaking in high school' from her without having to even write it. If that isn't Yzma idk what is
Fiona- this one was hard cause out of all the other girls I would say she's the most morally good instead of grey. Maybe Pete from Toy Story 2? Mostly cause she's she is the kind of person that thinks you aren't entitled to set boundaries after people do things for you and if you do your ungrateful. Like I worry for what Crowley could have talked her into doing if the other girls weren't there to tell him to shove it.
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Crowley/Halt/Duncan anon here, I'm just going to jump right in because I have been thinking about this bhsdjs
- Cody comes over and looks at the letters. "That's not Crowley's handwriting," they say. "And look at that, his last name is misspelled. And the letter is all crinkled up, Crowley wouldn't do that-- he'd kill if someone creased any of his letters any more than necessary to fit in an envelope."
- Halt had been so caught up seeing Crowley's name that he hadn't looked a little closer. Indeed, instead of Crowley Meratyn in the swooping, graceful curves of his partner's handwriting, it was messy and scratchy, spelling out "Crowley Meretin". And the paper was all folded up and badly taken care of, the corners ripped slightly at the edges-- there was even some evidence of water damage.
- Not to mention, there were supposedly lots of details about Crowley's personal life held within the letter-- and none of them were correct. As soon as the panic had subsided, Halt just sighed, looking through the letter a bit closer. Meanwhile, Cody looked for more "evidence"-- and found that "Crowley's" handwriting matched the handwriting of the baron of this fief.
- Suspicious.
- Halt packs up the letters in his bag while Cody confronts and arrests the baron. Well, maybe a little more than just arresting him-- but he was being rude and wasn't compliant, so Cody felt obligated to use a little force. Maybe a little more force than necessary, but no one would ever know.
- The baron makes a comment about how Cody looks like a "boy version" of the late Princess Caitlyn of Clonmel. Cody punches him. Sources claim it was a ghost possessing their hand, and their brother is very eager to back them up on this fact.
- Sibling shenanigans aside, they head back to talk to Crowley and Duncan. The baron is put away to be questioned later, but Halt needs to explain what they'd found. Because if one baron was willing to attempt impersonating "Crowley Meretin", then others probably were, too. Which could cause issues if some poor, unsuspecting citizen were to "accidentally" find the impersonated letters.
- Halt talks to Duncan first. He wanted a second opinion-- well, a third opinion, really, and Duncan knows Crowley best. Duncan agrees that no, this definitely isn't actually Crowley, and this means another charge can be added to the baron's ever-growing list of criminal offences.
- He then talks to Crowley, who gets rightfully pissed at the baron. And he also sees and understands Halt's worries. Even if this baron was incompetent, others wouldn't be, and may also have much bigger issues with Crowley.
- "Something similar could also happen to you and Cody," Crowley says. "You know they probably have way more hatred towards you two than to me, what with all you're known for and everything you've done."
- "That's why we try to keep our identities mostly secret," Halt responds. "Not a lot of people know us as being anything more than Mongoose and Mongoose's partner in crime. It could only prove to be a major problem for us if one of the Rangers held a grudge, I think."
- Crowley reluctantly agrees, but is still worried. Morgorath still held a lot of sway over a lot of barons and officials in spite of how hard they'd worked and fought-- and this just proved it. And Crowley knew one or two Rangers who were probably a bit jealous of Halt and Cody's closeness with himself and with the King.
- The war wasn't over. It probably wouldn't be for a long time. And there was no telling in which way the favor would sway over the next however many years it would be waged.
- And that... that was terrifying.
- that's a lot lot better, thank you.
- this is now a Cody stan account. where would we be without them ??? this is literally like the third of fourth time that they've saved the day.
- extra s/o to Cody punching the baron. i approve.
- also can Halt stop being a little stupid because he terrified me. love truly does make blind huh? that took a whole other meaning here.
- ANYHOW I love him going to Duncan first and <333
- i just want them three to go on a little vacation together but the war isn't over and it probably wouldn't be for a long time.
- and that... made me a little terrified.
#ngl i was a little terrified of where this was gonna go#but it's alright#i can go back to being in love with all of them again#doesn't mean i'm not still terrified of the other barons but#damn this started out as a funny au but i'm as invested as i've been in any ra book i think#ra halt au#ranger's apprentice#rangers apprentice#lmao i wish i could be more substantial in my answer but i have a headache and don't want to forget about this ask lmao#ask redrose#ask redrosearrow
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The Villainous Paranoiac Did Not Ask to be a Senpai
It’s been maybe two weeks since you woke up with a blade to your throat in a strange, ninja-and-pirate themed afterlife, and then woke up in a maximum security prison the next day. On the third day, thankfully, you woke up again in your bed in Ramshackle dorm with Grim snoring beside you.
There was even a surplus of food in the fridge and pantry, and some recipes for it in one of your notebooks, which you appreciated.
After three days, you let your guard down enough to assume you weren’t going to travel to anywhere else in your sleep and began to work on your essay for Professor Trein again.
On the seventh day, however, you woke up to an attempting smothering that was only foiled by Grim screaming and a second preteen tackling your would-be murderer off of you.
You then had to separate the two brown-haired children who were fighting on your bedroom floor and looking more and more like they would actually kill each other with every blow.
You got a broken nose for your trouble.
That was how you met the two brats who you temporarily swapped places with, and who are currently living in your dorm with you as “hopeful potential students” as the birdbrain headmaster put it.
It’s clearly just a clever way for the dumb bird to avoid taking direct responsibility for the lives of under sixteen years olds. If they die from a magic mishap or getting squashed by an overblot, he can pin the blame on your incompetence instead of the school’s.
Joy.
Epel’s still sulking about you “swiping his kohai” from him. Vil-senpai acts as if he doesn’t care, but the number of times he’s dropped by to complain about your standards of beauty care begs to differ.
Honestly, they and Pomefiore can have Nana if they want him so badly... is what you would say if Crowley weren’t increasing your funding per temporary occupant. You were quite pleased with negotiating that, as previously the birdbrain acted like he expected you to somehow feed two growing children plus yourself and Grim on just your paltry allowance.
Grim and the ghosts would be glad to see the British boy who introduced himself to you as “Johnny-Powers-but-call-me-Nana” gone in spite of the added money. They’ve made sure to tell you so, multiple times.
Even without hearing about how well he played ghost exterminator first time he was here, you can kind of understand what they’re talking about. That kid can go from homicidal to ingratiating so fast it feels like you’ll get whiplash, and he’s disturbingly quick to bring up maiming as a solution to your problems. You attribute this to him being an incarcerated thirteen-year-old gang leader in addition to a model Pomefiore student and resolve to keep him as far away from Octavinelle as humanly possible.
He and Leech-senpai would either give each other ideas, or he’d overthrow Ashengrotto-senpai and have him served as calamari by the end of the week.
You quite like Ashengrotto-senpai where he is, whole and healthy, so you stay vigilant.
At least he can speak Japanese well enough despite being a foreigner, and does his share of the chores around the dorm without complaining. You’ve even caught him doing Grim’s share with no fuss, because of the sudden increase in quality of the finished job. He responds well to praise and is very bribable with chocolate, which makes your life a lot easier in many circumstances.
Now if you can just find him a good child psychologist for all the issues he clearly has, Nana might make a passable dorm-mate.
You’d keep Mayu in a heartbeat though, even without the added benefit of payment.
Ketsugi Mayu’s an absolute sweetheart, if a bit on the... straightforward side, to put it nicely. She’s an amazing cook, able to create feasts out of the barest essentials and haggle with Sam to get groceries for a much lower price that you’re able to. You’re not sure if you’ve ever eaten better. If not for how clearly homesick she is and the fact that her mother terrifies you, you’d offer to let her stay here forever.
Of course that’s not to say the kid doesn’t have some quirks. She keeps making odd remarks like, “it feels weird to be watched only some of the time” and “oh right, you have lawyers here” that make you very concerned about the ninja afterlife she was in. And a bit about the place you’re currently living in.
She’s also obsessed with this one comic about pirates to the point where she puts Shroud-senpai’s fixations to shame, claiming she wants to become a pirate chef when she grows up and praying to the main characters. This has given her one of the weirdest moral compasses you’ve ever seen, which treats theft as an excusable offense but wasting food as a crime that she needs to go and beat up people for.
This would be less of a problem if the child wasn’t strong enough to break bones.
You’ve had to break up more fights for her than you have for Nana honestly, just because she’d spotted someone throwing something away half-eaten in the cafeteria and quietly made a beeline for them before you wised up to her shenanigans.
Nana was no help on that front because he immediately tried to join in, only to play innocent bystander the moment the teachers and dorm leaders came.
The fact that her mindset has a lot in common with Deuce’s and Kalim’s is just the cherry on top of the problem sundae. Ace and several other students have already tried to con her into giving them free food, because apparently this child thinks it is her gods-given mission to feed the world’s hungry.
Which is noble and all, unless you don’t have a lot of food that you can afford to share around in the first place. Especially not to greedy freeloaders who call themselves your friends and claim to want to test Mayu’s gullibility “for her own good”. Grim’s perpetually rumbling stomach and puppy-eyes have been some of your best allies in thwarting these attempts.
At least your guests get along with each other after their rocky start.
After a few days of him refusing to eat anything on his plate unless Mayu or you had eaten a bit of it first, the twelve-year-old roped Nana into helping out in the kitchen to try and get him to be less picky. Amazingly, it worked, and you usually seize the opportunity work on your homework while they’re distracted preparing meals.
From there, they became friends pretty quickly, though you think that has more to do with Mayu being a reliable source of chocolate than anything else.
Nana flips between nervous child and overprotective gang leader on a dime for her, which isn’t helpful when you’re trying to stop any more Cafeteria Incidents. Mayu at least has the maturity to help you talk Nana down from some of his more extreme responses to problem-solving and keeps him entertained by telling him more of that pirate story she’s always going on about.
It’s nice that they both found at least one friend around their age to help them survive here in Twisted Wonderland.
Now if they could stop teaming up to make you go grey before you turn eighteen, that’d be swell.
#my art#my writing#twisted wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland yuu#twst yuu#villainous paranoiac yuu#one piece#naruto#naruto oc#ketsugi mayu#nanbaka#nanbaka the numbers#nanbaka oc#0307#nana#yuu is suffering#what is the best thing to do to a character who is bad with children?#give them some!!#make them responsible for tiny lives when they barely have any idea how to keep themselves together!#im having too much fun with this crossover help
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I don’t know if you’re still doing requests but if so, I reallly liked the not wanting a child one with Vil Leona and Malleus. Could you do it with Lilia, Rook, Azul, Floyd, and riddle? If you have time? If that’s too many people than just Azul, Rook and lilia. Only if you’re able to. Thank you. Have a nice day. 💖💖💖
Oh boi this was challenge but I love how it turned out! Sometimes when writing dialogues for the boys,I hear their Japanese voices and the struggle of needing to find the English equivalent to that hurts my braincells 😂😂 I'm looking at you, Floyd (눈‸눈) Lmao but really,I enjoyed writing this, so thank you for requesting this! Hope you all like it as much as I do ♥️ imsorryriddlegotangstyandimblackbutlertrash
Warning; Toxic relationships and mentions of physical abuse
Lilia Vanrouge
- He's planned this the moment he realized he wanted to be with you! Children are a hassle, true, but the thought of being the father to your child made Lilia want to run in circles.
- He was aware of how you often avoided the question though,and unlike Malleus, he was more patient as he slipped in small hints and tested the waters. Seeing which part of the topic took you off.
- Lilia, ancient and wise, believed that if he pushed you the wrong way, nothing good would come out of it. You'd be unhappy and an unhappy mother would lead to an unhappy child, and that's the last thing he'd want.
- Lilia sees the image of him standing beside you with your three children almost every single time he looks at you, and he knows happiness is key!
- So,he pampers you and he studies you. Every single reaction you give him, he digests it then analyses it and finally forms an approach.
- The two of you were in his manor's library when he went into the conversation, and as he expected you were trying to divert the whole topic.
- "I'm practically a child myself, I don't think I can handle such a responsibility...I'm sorry,Lilia" You hung your head low,averting his gaze when he came up beside you.
- Lilia was always hard to read. He wore the exact same expression most of the time and even when he's in a whole other mood, it doesn't show.
- When he intertwined your fingers with his though, a slight sense of relief washed over you and a small smile curved on your lips when Lilia pecked your cheek.
- "But little lantern, having small candles beaming through the manor would be pleasant in a way wouldn't it? I'd especially spend more time here with them" His voice was so soothing then, you could never have sensed the sourness in it at all. The way he simply and casually carried his aloof air around you, and had you feeling a sensational warmth from the way his hand held yours.
- You were clueless to the fact he was spinning you into a web. One you'd never be able to escape from.
- "And think of the things you could teach them about your world! Or how anyone can do anything despite having no magic"
- "Doesn't that bother you though? Our children not having magic?"
- The word 'Our' perked his ears. Lilia smiled, feigning an innocence you were too naive to see was rehearsed.
- "It doesn't. Any child from you is magic already."
- "You say that, but you could have children as strong as Malleus if I wasn't a simple human"
- Ah, that's when Lilia's plans ticked perfectly.
- "It's because you're human I want to have children with you,little lantern"
- "I'm here with you now because despite being considered someone defenceless against mages, you've proved yourself to be just as capable as the next student, even more so actually! You're a mystery,my love bird. Don't you see that?"
- You didn't. Of course not. You came from a place where magic was a fairytale, nothing but fiction. Twisted Wonderland was a place you had to struggle even more to be able to have your own footing and none of your trials were easy.
- He saw you as someone so special despite that? Your heart clenched at his words.
- And that's how he gets to you. He doesn't try it once and forces you into it when you refuse. No, Lilia simply keeps pushing.
- He'll make you feel as if you were no different to him or the other Twisted Wonderland residents who wielded powers you can't.
- His words would coo in your head whenever you doubted that a child of yours would do well in this version of the world.
- "They'll have you as a mother after all. Strong and reliable,they won't have any problems you couldn't fix!"
- "Bullied? You wouldn't allow such a thing in the first place"
- "Imagine them having eyes just like yours. Maybe then you'd be able to see how fiery your spirit is!"
- Lilia knows you all too well. Your lack of joy when talking about children came from the fact you were afraid you couldn't be good at it. Poor thing, being constantly dogged at by Crowley to run errands that drained you with exhaustion and confronting people who thought magic made them powerful. It's no wonder you feel numb from it.
- Oh,but no worries. His plan is perfect, and plays well for both of you.
- You don't want a child because you feared it being neglected? He'll just change that image of yours.
- On the day, you wake up to the sound of a baby crying and realized it was simply from a dream, you swear you've never felt so empty before. So, incomplete.
- Lilia doesn't bring up the subject of children for a while and it makes you anxious. Did he not want them anymore? Did your constant refusal made him give up on that? Give up on you?
- Your thoughts would run wild until you find yourself wrapping your arms around Lilia, teary eyed and apologizing as if the words had been burned into your throat and you desperately wanted it out before you lost your voice.
- And Lilia being the ever so gentle,ever so understanding lover, would hold you. Cooing to you as he plays with your hair softly.
- He'll ask you what was wrong, the hue in his gaze shifting when you stare deeply into them and you'll shed tears.
- "It's okay,my sweet" He coos, smiling, despite your sorrow weighing down the room. "Why don't you tell me what's wrong?"
- Lilia takes the long route to having children but it's all worth the wait when he sees you smiling lovingly at the newborn child in your arms as you gesture to the five year old next to you to come see their younger sibling.
- "Mommy,look, same eyes as you!" Cheered the child, and you perk up at the sight. Lilia was right, children were perfect remedies to a tired soul.
Azul Ashengrotto
- The thought of children,at first, terrified him. It'd be like trying to leash two more Floyds, wouldn't it? But then Jade mentioned that having children was similar to having a contract and something just clicked in his head.
- If he impregnated you, it'd be harder to run from him, right? And when he was truly a father then you'd have to look up to him to care for both you and the child, right?
- Of course! How didn't he see this sooner? What a fool.
- Azul would be hellbent on wanting a child and he'd try his hands at it multiple times, and was equally disappointed each time since all you ever did was refuse.
- "Kids are too hard to handle. We'd both be busy, and I don't think even Jade would have time to juggle them around when we can't." You sounded so bitter, so disapproving. It made Azul feel all dejected, as if you were just disgusted at the thought of having his seed inside of you.
- From then on,Azul starts to mope. His cool composure slips from time to time and it gets too often that Jade has to handle most of the clients. He'll pull a face when you ask him what's wrong and harshly tells you to leave him alone
- He's hurt,but he doesn't want to say it and he frustratingly tries to wrap his head around a plan to make his desire come true, playing out multiple routes in his mind to find a weak spot he could probe you with.
- "Why don't you want a child?" Azul asked you this right after closing Mostro Lounge. There's a hint of sorrow in his blue gaze when you come to meet it, and you wonder if you were too blunt with your answer.
- You shifted on your feet, something you did out of habit, and Azul took note of how out of place you seemed.
- "Cause I don't think either of us are ready?" You answer and in a split second, Azul's sorrow sharpened into irritation and you could just feel how badly that answer set him off.
- "Was that supposed to be an answer or a question?"
- "Azul, I don't want to fight over this." You reach out a hand to place on his shoulder, but he slapped it away with surprising speed and the hit leaves you slightly stunned. He'd never hit you before.
- "It's someone else isn't it?" He asked, almost a murmur. The way his gaze seemed to latch onto you then gave off an unsettling feeling.
- "You're seeing someone else,aren't you? That's why you don't want to have kids with me."
- "Azul,what are you—"
- He moved swiftly, but when his hands came to grip you by your shoulders, his nails sunk into your skin and his lips snarled at you.
- "Who is it? Tell me or I can't promise I won't hurt you right now." His rage practically frothed and you found no words to compensate for your lack of comprehension of the situation.
- "I don't care if it's Jade or Floyd. I'll take out anyone who wants to take you away from me!"
- Your lips parted,to speak perhaps, but Azul silenced you with his spiteful stare.
- "You're mine, aren't you? Why won't you just admit it? Why won't you just accept me already?"
- You thought the pain was from the words he threw at you; Sharp it resembled a hit from a whip,but then your vision had blurred and you were coughing up dry air it made your lungs hurt to take in anymore. Then you felt something run down the side of your lips, and only then did you realized Azul had thrown you right across the room and the wall collided against your body.
- There was a scream, so filled with frustration it wrecked your entire being you had to curl up in a ball before a strangled whimper came from your lips.
- "You're taking everything from me" Azul said, his still gaze watching your crumpled form. He sounded distant as if he wasn't really there, yet when he came over to cup your face with his hands, he had felt so real it hurt to look.
- You were so broken in his grasp then, he was sure you didn't even know where such anger came from, then again Azul was always aware of how reluctant you were in your relationship. You were with him only because he stirred you up in a contract. You never really did loved him as much as he loves you.
- The rising pleasure of being able to make you go through at least a portion of the pain he had to go through was surprisingly pleasant to have.
- He laughed before pulling your face close to his,nose almost touching. "Look how beautiful you are when you don't run your mouth or fight back", the words came in a coo yet you shivered from it.
- "I could make us the happiest couple in the world,you know. Our children would be the best among the best." Azul placed a lingering kiss on your lips, the scent of your blood edging him on. When you weakly tried to pull away, he gripped harder and bit your cheek until it bled and you were letting out small whimpers.
- "Don't cry,my sweet small seashell. If it hurts, I'm here for you. I'll make everything okay again. So, stop crying,I don't want our night of conceiving to be filled with tears."
Rook Hunt
- "Little Lamb, aren't you well enough to give me children?"
- You were merrily drinking tea when this question came out of the blue.
- Rook stood behind the chaise you were sitting on, his arms gracefully enveloping you in an embrace as his breath grazed your skin. He smelled of the forest right after rain, and his words left you rather stunned.
- "In the letter I received from Vil, he and his small hare were planning on having children of their own", he bent down slightly, enough to place a kiss on your cheek before he went around the chaise and faced you. The smile he wore rivalled the morning sun itself.
- You tried to collect your thoughts, tried to piece up the right words to tell him that you simply did not want children. In the end though,you decided it was better to just come out and say it.
- "Rook—"
- "Yes,my love?" His eyes seemed to beam, and Rook's eyes always beamed but this time, it was as if he had been playing the scene of your children running around the halls of his manor the entire day. Mesmerized was the word you'd use to describe it. Your chest tightened at the thought of breaking that dream of his. But you had to tell him...This was something you truly didn't want.
- "I don't want children,Rook." Blunt and precise, the words came from you without hesitation, and in that piercing second that held the room in silence, Rook felt his heart sank into the metallic jaws of disappointment. A mighty bear caught in the savage claws of man's horrid trap.
- He blinked. Once, then twice. By the third blink, you were already regretting your refusal and desperately searched for a way to amend for it.
- Unfortunately for you,Rook had already taken great damage, and as a result, he completely shrugged off your comment.
- "It would be splendid, wouldn't it? I would teach our sons to hunt and our little princess would have an entire garden built for her!"
- "Rook, didn't you hear—"
- "Yes! I can see it already! Our family would be such a joy to have!"
- You stood up then, exasperated by how delusional he sounded. You knew he didn't like the answer you gave him but to just pretend as if he hadn't listen! Just when you were about to turn on your heels to speak your mind,Rook stood as well, swiftly without a sound, and with the strength of a seasoned hunter he gripped you firmly by the waist and hoisted you up into the air.
- Your scream lodged in your throat and blood rushed to your head. Instinctively you held onto his hands, but when your eyes finally locked onto his, the deep-set emerald of his gaze turned luscious and vicious all at the same time and your words lost their volume.
- His lips curled, deliberately coy. When he lowered you and pressed your lips against his, your body flinched.
- "You'll give me good children,won't you?", he murmured before another kiss stole your breath again.
- "My precious dove, you'll make a fine mother."
Floyd Leech
- "Nee,nee, little shrimp,let's have kids,okay?" Floyd threw his arms around you as casually as always but the words he had said with the same amount of casualness was what staggered you on your feet.
- His sharp teeth bared,lips pulled into a grin, Floyd eyed you with great interest.
- You returned it with a terrified look.
- "No." You blurted out before even thinking, and Floyd frowned faster than he had grinned.
- "Why?" Flat and practically monotonous, his question sent a chill down your spine and you bit your lip out of habit.
- Floyd had always been unpredictable, mostly because he acted on how he felt rather than thinking it through first, and that's how you saw this whole situation. Maybe someone had said something, or maybe he met up with Cheka and somehow thought it would be nice to have kids, but he didn't really meant it. Right?
- "Nee,why don't you want kids?" He repeated his question, inching closer to you as you tried to avoid any physical trigger that would set him off. The mer-male had a tendency to bully you whenever you showed him any hint of feeling inferior to him, and that often ended with Jade having to tend to the 'love marks' he left behind on your body.
- "Why do you want kids anyway?" You shot back, minding how your tone sounded while still seeming firm. "They take up a lot of time you know? I'd have to pay more attention to them than to you"
- At the statement, Floyd arched his brows. The distant look in his eyes told you he was having a thought before his expression turned lax.
- "That's okay, I'll be there anyways so it's no big deal"
- "What?"
- "Hm? I'm telling you it's okay,little shrimp. Even Jade said he'd help around if it gets too much"
- He snaked his arms around your waist,pulling you real close to his chest until he could squeeze you tight.
- "It'll be fun,won't it?"
- Your body reacted before you could even comprehend anything, and it was only after you heard the dull thud of Floyd's back hitting the wall did you realized you had pushed him away.
- "You pushed me" He said this so softly, you thought you only heard it in your head but then he lifted his gaze and the mismatched orbs held such malice, your stomach lurched.
- "Floyd,I'm sorry...I didn't mean it, I just—"
- "Shut up. You're really pissing me off. " He elicited the words,each enunciation cut into sharp edges of glass scraping against your skin you wanted to close your eyes and run away from the whole thing.
- But with Floyd,if you ran, it meant you'd already lost.
- "What's with you? I ask all nicely and hug you and stuff, and you're pushing me? Jade said you didn't like kids but I told him that if it was with me you'd definitely say yes, cause after all, you're my little shrimp right?"
- You opened your mouth to speak, to say anything to avoid him having a tantrum, but Floyd let out a low growl and cut you off before you could.
- "Ah,I'm annoyed now. You should've just said yes but now...Now,I want you to come here"
- He opened his arms, the look in his eyes a spiral of aggression that shredded through your nerves.
- "I said come here,___, or you're gonna make me even more angry"
- You hated the way your body reacted to him. How it felt like you were a ghost in your own body as you watched yourself obey him.
- The coldness of his embrace had tears brimming your eyes and you pressed your face into his chest as if it was an instinct. An instinct to protect yourself.
- Floyd eased into your desperation, arms closing around you as he held you in his grasp. He was smiling but it was bland and it was meant to scare you.
- "Aha, you're crying! Aw,did you think I was gonna hurt you,little shrimp?"
- You shook your head,hands gripping onto his shirt as Floyd patted your head playfully.
- "Ah,it's cause you went and made me mad, right? Hahaha! You're a funny one,little shrimp. Always getting yourself into things you can't handle"
- Floyd then cupped your face with both hands, a feverishly possessive look in his eyes.
- "But,If you're really sorry you'll have to show me,okay?"
Riddle Roseheart
- Funnily enough,the suggestion of having children was brought up by Cater, and it had taken both you and Riddle off guard.
- Though, unlike you, Riddle saw it as an enlightenment. He adores you and acknowledges you to a great degree and so when the thought of being a father to your child crossed his mind, everything changed for him.
- "Children would be nice" He said,voice a soft lull as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck. The two of you had been laying on his bed all day, Riddle claiming his fellow dormmates had made his day stressful as always.
- You were running your fingers through his hair when his question struck a cord in you,yet you opted to keep your thoughts to yourself.
- Riddle was a rather conflicting partner to have. Unlike the other yanderes, he wasn't at all aggressive or wholly dominant when he began his recession of obsessive love for you, at least not all the time. When Riddle admitted his feelings for you, he had laid himself bare.
- Gentle but clingy, he latched himself onto you as if you were stitched together, and due to the lack of childhood his mother deprived him of, Riddle found great comfort in the way you handled him with such an understanding and loving attitude. Sure,you had your days when you let loose your tongue of sarcasm but that was also an aspect about you he adored.
- "Don't you think so,____?"
- Riddle called you by your first name now rather than your title as supervisor, he didn't have a nickname, said it was all just too stuffy for him. Plus, the way your name rolled so lusciously on his tongue, satisfied him.
- "I guess" was your answer, and somehow despite how casual you sounded Riddle couldn't help but to hear a slight hint of disapproval in it.
- Still, he smiled when he looked up to you and let out a gentle laugh.
- "Our children would surely be an outstanding batch, won't they? I'd teach them how to use their magic and if one of them can't, they'll have you" He sounded so genuine, so soft. It hurt you to inwardly disagree with him.
- You weren't really fond of kids but you were also not the type to admit it out loud, afraid that people would look at you badly if you did.
- "Hmm, you don't seem like you're excited..." ,His voice a gentle coo,Riddle pressed his body against yours,his lips lightly caressing your skin. You arched your back and a small laugh escaped him.
- "Doesn't the thought of having children makes you want to try it?"
- If your silence didn't set him off, the way fear swirled in the hues of your eyes did, and like a switch, Riddle clasped your throat with his hand, a snarl scrunching up his expression.
- "Answer me when I talk to you,____."
- You let out a strangled gasp,your hand coming up to grip his wrist only to feel it burn instead
- Riddle's gaze shifted,clear blue eyes resembling a flickering flame.
- "Don't touch me. If you even move from this position, I'll rip that head off of you faster than the March Hare himself."
- You flinched at his words,eyes shutting close as your chest throbbed in panic. This was what you were avoiding, yet ultimately failed to notice. His moods shifted so profoundly after all, it was like treading on Alice Liddle's stubbornness.
- "I... I'm sorry!" You managed,half a sob and half a plea. Despite his hands looking so fragile, Riddle's grip was like an iron clamp, and somehow his skin seemed to burn into yours.
- "If you're sorry, then why am I still angry,___?" Riddle laughed, "Why do I still want to punish you?"
- You broke into tears easily after that, hopelessness coursing through your veins and warping your features.
- This broke his heart as well, Riddle now knew the answer he was waiting for. You didn't want children with him.
- Near tears himself,Riddle released his grip on you, letting you fall onto his mattress and curl into a ball as he sat there, kneeling before you. He watched as you let out an agonizing sob and called his name,for what reason he wasn't sure. He didn't know if you really loved him or not. You probably stayed because you feared him as well like most people did. But he loved you,he really did. If the world he lived in was a twisted Wonderland, you were his salvation, his home.
- "I'm sorry,___",he said after tears had stained his own cheeks and his heart weighed him down and his chest felt like exploding. He inched closer to you before gathering your trembling form into his arms and burying your face into his chest.
- "I'm sorry I hurt you. I won't do it again,I promise" He held you so tight, you couldn't even grasp enough air into your lungs,but you held onto him nonetheless.
- "I don't like hearing you cry" Riddle murmured in-between sobs, "I love you,___. I just wanted to show you that I do"
- He repeated those words like a mantra, and you fell deeper into your sorrows, as if you shared a single heart with him and the pain the two of you felt somehow had mixed together until you were unable to tell them apart.
- Love with Riddle was maddening,it really was. It was like diving into a rabbit hole. Endless.
- "I love you too, Riddle. I'm sorry for making you mad"
- "I don't care about that anymore" Riddle held your face in his hands,cheeks flushed when you leaned close to kiss his lips first. "I don't care about children or anything. I just want to be with you"
- You smiled. "Maybe having a few wouldn't hurt,if it's yours,I'll be okay,won't I?"
- He pressed his forehead against yours, chuckling, "Yes,my Lady"
#twisted wonderland#twst#twst wonderland#twisted wonderland scenarios#twisted wonderland fanfic#twisted wonderland yandere#lilia vanrouge#twst lilia#yandere lilia vanrouge#azul ashengrotto#yandere azul ashengrotto#twst azul#rook hunt#twst rook#yandere rook hunt#floyd leech#twst floyd#yandere floyd leech#riddle rosehearts#twst riddle#yandere riddle rosehearts#male yandere x reader
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When The End comes for real, it’s just as Crowley supposed, with Heaven and Hell united against humanity. There are a lot of people who don’t believe what’s happening, but about half earth’s inhabitants do. And they show up for the fight.
The army humans have guns, there are doctors wielding baseball bats and taxi drivers with tire irons. Masses of youths are forming up with nothing but broken bottles and spite to defend themselves with.
Lucifer scoffs at them, his beauty already luring some people from their posts.
Not too many of them, though. Aziraphale has to believe that...
There may be millions of angels and demons among the ranks, united for a common goal, but there are billions of humans.
Crowley and Aziraphale are in the thick of it, of course. Of course. Aziraphale has come into the possession of his flaming sword again, through a series of events that Crowley really doesn’t want to think too hard about.
They stare down the Morning Star across the open expanse of the soon to be battlefield, humanity behind them, as much of it sheltered beneath their wings as they can manage.
And then the Heavenly forces begin to sing.
There may be no rousing war songs in Heaven, but there’s an otherworldly intimidation that can’t help but be felt by the humans when all those angelic voices resonate in harmony. It’s as beautiful as it is terrifying. Singing was, after all, one of the angel’s first jobs, and they’re masters at their craft.
“Steady…” Crowley calls out to those around him, his own core trembling a little as well, to hear the sound again after all these millennia.
As the song ends, Heaven and Hell stand there, smug, assuming ants have no chance against the boot they represent. Hell is likely basking in the fear it caused, while Heaven is just simply basking.
“Pity the humans don’t all speak the same language anymore…” Crowley mumbles, knowing it’ll be difficult to inspire courage back into their hearts after that.
Aziraphale blinks. “No… But they do all love music…”
“This is no time for Mozart, angel,” Crowley practically growls.
“Please, where would we even get any instruments out here?” Aziraphale gives him a prim look, “No, we need something that doesn’t require accompaniment… Something that almost everyone on earth knows… You there,” he says to the homeless man on Crowley’s right, “Take this. You’re going to need it more than I will,” he says as he thrusts the handle of his flaming sword into the man’s hands.
“Aziraphale…” Crowley hisses, “What are you doing?”
The homeless guy blinks, then hefts the sword, giving Aziraphale a stunned yet thankful smile.
“I needed my hands free, dear boy,” Aziraphale says.
And then he stomps his foot.
Twice.
And claps once.
Then repeats it.
Stomp. Stomp. Clap.
Stomp. Stomp. Clap.
It takes approximately two and a half seconds for every human around him to catch on.
It takes Crowley three times as long to pick his jaw up off the ground.
“Do feel free to join in, darling, if you know this one,” Aziraphale tells him almost gleefully, determination etched in every line of his face.
Crowley’s core trembles with something entirely different this time as the beat spreads through the entire camp of humanity.
He joins them.
The fervor rises quickly, pushing back fear, pulling forward the love of everything it means to be mortal that the song represents. Some people are singing the words, some are just clapping and stomping, but the ground shakes under their feet nonetheless.
Eventually, Lucifer realizes it was Not A Good Idea to let the humans have their little war cry. Because even though he roars at them to silence their stomping, they’re spoiling for a fight now.
They roar back.
Lucifer raises his fist in the air, just about to motion the charge forward, when suddenly the homeless man with the flaming sword is standing in the middle of the open space between the armies.
His posture straightens.
His rags fall away.
He bears scarred wrists and a crown of thorns, in addition to Aziraphale’s sword.
He gives a quick nod to the angel and the demon who chose the humans’ side above all else, just as he did. With sword raised, he addresses the Heavenly and Hellish forces, who are stunned in His presence.
“Anyone who wants to lay a finger on humanity,” His voice booms out across the field, across the earth, across the heavens, “Is going to have to go through me first.”
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Time - Good Omens Fic
Goal was to write three fics for this weeks @bingokisses prompts. Well, I got two! The first is “Time” a Night At Crowley’s Flat/Pre-Body-Swap/Wing Grooming fic. It’s for the prompt “Wrist kisses” which I had twice on my card, the first paired with “Wing Grooming.” I’m going to do edits before I move this to AO3, so let me know if anything sounds off!
“So that’s it.” Crowley lounged against the wall, arms crossed. Not looking at Aziraphale. Not looking at anything.
“Yes. I pretend to be you, you pretend to be me. Hellfire. Holy water. We survive.”
It wasn’t easy, keeping his voice steady. Aziraphale mostly managed it by not looking at Crowley, not thinking to hard about it, acting as though the entire problem were simply some clever logic problem. Most certainly by not imagining what would happen if they failed.
“Don’t like it.”
“Come now,” he tried to smile. “Let’s not start over again. We’ve considered every angle. The plan works, and it’s our – our best chance.”
Crowley grunted as if regretting his promise already. “Not going to argue. Just. Don’t like it.” He’d been belligerent since the moment Aziraphale had suggested the swap, inspired by his own recent experience with discorporation. He’d expected Crowley to dislike the idea, but the demon had fought against it, tooth and nail, every step of the planning process.
Not that Aziraphale didn’t have his own doubts. He’d struggled to keep them at bay since stepping off the bus. Now he pressed his hands together, ordering them not to tremble, as the fear started to grow in his gut, building, pushing out into his limbs and his heart.
Choose your faces wisely – that was clear enough. But playing with Fyre could mean many things, only one of which Crowley was immune to. What if he’d missed something? What if there was more to it?
What if the prophecy wasn’t intended to save both of them?
He imagined Michael’s sword, blade aflame, swinging towards Crowley while he was bound to a chair—
It wasn’t a noise, just a sharp intake of breath as he pulled himself back to reality, but it was as loud as a scream in the silent room. Crowley’s head snapped around, eyes pinning the angel through his dark glasses. “What’s wrong?” he demanded.
“Nothing.” Oh, his voice didn’t sound certain at all, his eyes still burned in the imagined light of Heavenly swords. Aziraphale cleared his throat and tried again, but no words at all came out this time, just a strained squeak.
Heaven would see this coming, surely. They would suspect as soon as Crowley stepped into the flames. He needed to outsmart them, needed to think of the next step, and the next, a hundred moves ahead, but he didn’t have time…
“Angel.” Crowley’s voice was sharp, a whip crack cutting through the silent room, and Aziraphale cringed, huddling into himself instinctively. “Bless it, Aziraphale, if you’re having doubts too, we need to rethink this. There’s still time, we can – can take off, be out past the Oort Cloud before either side notices. I know plenty of stars they’d never think to look.”
“Crowley, no. We’ve been over this already.” His voice didn’t sound calm but at least it wasn’t breaking anymore. “We can’t hide forever, they’ll – they’ll find us eventually.”
“I’d rather they chase us across the galaxy than – than stand around waiting for them to grab us. At least we’d have a chance. At least we’d have time.”
Aziraphale wanted that. Time. More than anything, he wanted time to think, to plan, to prepare. To stand beside Crowley and not be afraid.
But that was the problem, wasn’t it? There was no future if they ran, no earth, no them, just this one terrifying moment, stretched on and on for eternity, poised forever at the last moment before the attack. Always waiting. Always afraid. He couldn’t take a life of this, he couldn’t even take one night of this.
He was so lost in his own thoughts – torn between wanting time and wanting it to be over – that he didn’t even notice Crowley’s approach until the hand landed on his shoulder. It wasn’t rough – it was the gentlest touch, barely felt through his jacket – but the suddenness of it startled Aziraphale, making him stumble away.
“Crowley! There’s no need – I’m – please—”
“You aren’t fine, don’t try to tell me you’re fine,” he spat. Then, in a lower voice, “Talk to me.”
It was too much. Already he’d nearly given in to the fear, but this – this moment of concern – it tugged at him, threatening to break his last thread of dignity, of control, and that was the only thing keeping him going right now.
“There’s nothing more to discuss.” He tugged at his waistcoat, trying to school his expression. “And if – if you’re just going to argue, I’d rather you left me in peace.”
“Aziraphale…” A warning.
“I mean it, Crowley.” He interrupted, fighting to keep his mind from shattering. “That’s enough. Go!”
Crowley spun away, with a noise halfway between a snort and a snarl, and stalked through the enormous revolving door, disappearing into the next room.
Leaving Aziraphale alone with his thoughts.
--
Crowley glared at his trembling plants, burying his fingers in leaves, tugging at them for any sign of weakness, of spots or yellowing, any imperfections. But he didn’t really see them.
His mind kept shifting, jumping between a bookshop in flames, a voice in a bar, and the sudden appearance of Aziraphale at the airbase. A hurricane of worry and relief and fear and longing with nothing remotely like calm at its center.
He wanted to run to Aziraphale. Override all his objections, drag him away. Haul him off this world, to the stars, to Andromeda, to the farthest corner of the universe, far from the beings that wanted to hurt them, had hurt them again and again for thousands of years.
It wasn’t the first time. He’d wanted to at the airbase, run up, grab Aziraphale by the lapels. Make sure he was unharmed, shout at him to stop taking foolish risks. The same at the church in 1941, the Bastille in 1793, again and again, across centuries of companionship –
Wanted to reach out, pull him close, promise that everything would work out.
But he didn’t. Couldn’t. Never could. Maybe never would.
He’d always blamed it on their sides, needing to stay apart to stay safe. But he didn’t have that excuse anymore, did he? And that’s all it was. An excuse.
It was Crowley’s nature to be cold and distant. Aloof. Project coolness and confidence so that no one could see what lay underneath, the shattered worthless wreck of demon. Keep them all at arm’s length, even the being he least wanted to push away, and where did that leave him?
Alone in his solarium, shredding the weakest leaves off a fig tree, on what could be the last night of his personal eternity.
Had he always been this way?
Crowley didn’t think so. There had been a time when he’d been open, inquisitive, carefree. Long ago, before the Fall, before six thousand years in Hell and on Earth, before he learned…everything.
He could never go back to that. You couldn’t unlearn the truth of the world, once you’d learned it.
One glance over his shoulder, back at the door. He could go back. Apologize. Open himself up to the one being he knew would never hurt him. Say the words that had sat on his tongue for countless centuries.
He could, but he wouldn’t. Not tonight. He needed time. Time to get his head on straight, to learn to be honest with himself, to know what it was he even wanted.
And time was the one thing he didn’t have.
--
Aziraphale rested his hand on the door frame, wishing he had the courage to step through.
It was his own fault, of course. He’d pushed Crowley away. As he always did. It was easier.
He didn��t belong here, among humans, beside a demon. Simple fact: he was an angel, and he belonged in Heaven. There was no place else an angel could exist and feel whole and happy.
That, he’d always told himself, was why he had this aching emptiness inside – because he was far from his home, corrupted by earthly influences. A degraded angel.
Heaven talked a great deal about love. Angels love Creation, they love the humans, they love God most of all; they love each other, and they love him. In spite of all his flaws, he was constantly reminded, they loved him.
And he believed it. For a long time, he believed, because not believing was dangerous, and painful, and terrifyingly. And because, well…because that’s what he believed love was. How was he supposed to think otherwise? It was the only thing he ever knew.
But six thousand years on Earth slowly eroded his ignorance. He saw humans develop friendships, saw them fall in love, saw them care for their children, their parents. Saw some become cruel, or manipulative, or negligent; saw others be loyal, and warm, and welcoming even to strangers.
He learned all the ways that love could be expressed. All the things that masqueraded as it. What it could look like. What it should look like.
And even then, he could keep pretending that he found that in the cold, distant praise of Heaven, but only so long as he could pretend he didn’t find it anywhere else. That he didn’t have a being in his life who always supported him, always stood by him, never made him feel flawed or broken, never abandoned him.
Even now, when it might mean destruction for both of them, still at his side.
In the face of that, how could he ever believe that Heaven loved him?
He pushed the thought away, back into the dark recesses of his mind, where he’d carefully hidden it from himself for longer than the lifetime of civilizations. It was still a dangerous thought, a dangerous word. A distraction.
It wasn’t the time for such things.
He had to put their survival before everything else. It meant staying here and facing their former sides head-on, not running away and waiting to be caught. It meant deceiving Heaven and Hell, not angering them from some foolish desire to fight or take revenge. And it meant facing the challenge with cool logical minds not clouded by any newly acknowledged emotions. It made sense.
The best thing he could do for himself, for Crowley, was to keep his distance tonight.
--
I need a new plant mister.
For ten minutes, Crowley had managed to keep himself focused on pruning the trees, silently clearing out some leaves or stems to make room for new growth. The emotions raged somewhere deep inside, but the surface was as calm as ever. But then he noticed the echeveria was a little dry, went to give it a bit of water, and realized the bottle was gone.
Hastur had destroyed his plant mister, and he needed a new one.
He could simply manifest one, he supposed, as easily as he’d created the pruning shears. But the ones at the corner shop were so cheap, it was easier to just grab one on the way to Aziraphale’s bookshop, and take a few moments to see what new sprouts had arrived, then stop over at the bakery for some coffee and one of those crispy pastries.
Except.
Except there wasn’t a bookshop anymore, was there?
Which meant he wouldn’t be heading over tomorrow, or the next day, or ever again.
No more surprise breakfasts before the first customers of the day. No more late nights sharing a dozen bottles of wine and arguing about philosophy. No more perusing the poetry section when Aziraphale wasn’t looking, or thumbing through the latest illustrated guides to botany or astronomy that always found their way onto the shelf beside his sofa.
No more secretive walks in the park to share secrets and feed ducks. No more shoddy pretenses for a weekend drive. No more weaving the Bentley through four lanes of traffic.
The world had ended, but only for him and Aziraphale.
It wasn’t fair.
After everything they’d done, everything they’d suffered to save the world, they still lost everything and it wasn’t fair!
The knot of emotions he’d been holding back broke free in a flash, flooding him faster than he could control it. With a shout he hurled the little plant at the wall, cracking the pot, spilling soil everywhere. Then he grabbed the aloe vera, the orchids, the antherium. One after the other, thrown against the wall, the floor, the window.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He screamed, pulling over the umbrella tree, shredding all its leaves. “All of you! You worthless pieces of shit!” He kicked over a dragon tree. “You had your fucking chance! No more excuses, no more second chances.” A glass bowl full of air plants; he snatched it up and smashed it hard against the table, shards spinning off in every direction. “Make your fucking peace with the soil, because every one of you is—”
“Crowley!”
He spun around to find Aziraphale watching, wide-eyed, from the doorway.
Fuck.
Well. That’s the end of that, he supposed. After that sort of display, Aziraphale wouldn’t want anything to do with him ever again.
He clenched his fist, turning away, but that sent a sharp pain through his hand. Hissing, Crowley looked down to find a shard of glass, stuck in the side of his hand. Of course. Exactly what this day needed.
“Are you hurt?”
He shot a glare at the angel, suddenly beside him.
“Just a scratch. Leave me alone.”
Aziraphale’s hand landed lightly on his wrist, pulling the hand over for closer inspection. “You need to be more careful, Crowley.” He ran his thumb lightly up the side of Crowley’s palm and the little triangle of glass fell free.
“I’m not going to – to die from a little cut, Aziraphale.”
He’d meant it as a joke, of a sort, but Aziraphale’s hand tightened around his. “Don’t.” The angel’s thumb brushed across the cut, making it disappear in a small burst of healing. “You need to be more careful.”
“It’s a bit late for careful.” He tried to pull his hand away, but Aziraphale ignored it, bending over as if to inspect his palm for damage. “Look, Angel…”
“What a mess!” Aziraphale tutted. “An absolute disgrace.” But he hadn’t so much as glanced at the graveyard of ruined plants all over the floor. Instead, he was inspecting Crowley’s nails. “And you expect me to go out wearing these tomorrow?”
“You’re one to talk. I saw the state of your wings earlier. Have you groomed them this millennium?”
“Even if I hadn’t, it still wouldn’t compare to this – this—” He held up Crowley’s hand, nails caked with dirt, cracked, uneven. “I thought you took pride in your appearance.”
“I’ve been a bit busy.” Crowley snatched his hand back and tried to walk away.
“I don’t want an argument tonight.”
“Then stop trying to start one!” He took a deep breath. “If it bothers you that much, I’ll go take a shower. You wait in the kitchen, or wherever you want.” He glanced around at the mess he’d made. “Don’t bother cleaning. No point, is there?”
“Crowley, stop!”
“It was ‘go’ before, now you want me to stop? Make up your blasted mind.” But Crowley stood still, glaring at him. “What is it? What do you want?”
“I want to take care of those nails.”
“You what?” But Aziraphale’s face was dead serious, set in his most stubborn frown. “Look, you fussy bastard, this isn’t – we don’t have time for this!”
“You have somewhere else to be tonight?” But when his hands reached for Aziraphale’s again, the touch was strangely gentle. “Let me take care of these. Please.”
The demon groaned, but what was he supposed to do? Not say yes? “Fine. If you insist.”
--
Crowley stared at Aziraphale, sitting cross-legged on his bed. Between them was a bowl of warm water, an array of tiny torture implements, and a towel, which Aziraphalehad used to briskly brush the dirt from Crowley’s fingers. Now he held the demon’s right hand, turning it this way and that to inspect each nail in the light of his halo.
“That’s a little better,” Aziraphale murmured, picking up the clippers and starting to trim.
“You know, I can do this myself.”
“Can you? Really?” It was strange, having his hand held this way. Entirely in Aziraphale’s power, unable to move, yet it was only the lightest pressure, really. Firm, but gentle. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you chewed them.”
“Only when they break.”
“That isn’t funny. Look at this.” He lowered Crowley’s right hand and picked up the left, pinching the thumb between his fingers. “Just look!”
“Looks like a thumb.”
Another tsk, and Aziraphale set to clipping again, not trimming each nail as low as he could (as Crowley usually did), but instead quickly removing the sharp edges or cracked portions, leaving a few millimeters on each. When he was satisfied, he picked up an emery board. Crowley expected him to start scrubbing roughly, sandpapering his nails smooth. Instead, with a few quick delicate motions, he reshaped each nail into a perfect oval. Now and then, he paused to scrape underneath with the point of a nail file.
“What is this, anyway?” He held up the tip of the file, covered in hard flakes of black residue. “I thought it was soil, but it isn’t the right consistency.”
Crowley gulped. He remembered charging into a burning shop. Driving for almost an hour in a flaming car. Falling to the ground at the airbase more than once—
“Dunno,” he said weakly. “Could be – lots of things…”
Aziraphale’s hands hesitated over Crowley’s smallest finger, and he could see how the emery board trembled. Yeah, you’re cleaning the last of your bookshop out of my nails. How does that feel? Crowley wished he had something comforting to say, but he just felt hollow. The day had left him without anything to offer.
With a deep breath, Aziraphale steadied his grip and got back to work.
“Why?” Cowley found himself saying, as the angel moved back to his right hand. “Why are you wasting your time on this?” On me?
“Don’t be foolish. Time spent with you is never wasted.” Blue eyes flickered up again to catch his gaze before focusing on the nails once more. “Although I do wish you’d put a little effort into basic maintenance without my needing to nag you.”
“But—” He bit his words off, not knowing what to say. “Why?”
“Why? Why? You spend an hour every day on that ridiculous hair, not to mention weeks spent putting together your – your ‘new look’ every few years. I would think you’d agree that personal grooming is its own reward.”
“No, I…” He watched the long, thin board move back and forth. His fingers were curved slightly in Aziraphale’s grip, pinned in place by his thumb. “I just thought you’d want to be alone.”
Silence for the length of two fingers. “Why on Earth would you think that?”
His stomach was hard as a rock, twisting with emotions he couldn’t name. “I…I’ve been awful,” Crowley confessed. “All night long, since we got back, I argued, I snapped at you. Threw a tantrum. The other day, I shoved you against a wall. And…and this morning I called you stupid…I’d think you’d want to be as far from me as possible.”
“As I recall, you were the one who wanted to abandon me for the stars.”
“No…” But he had said that, hadn’t he? “I didn’t…I wouldn’t really…”
“Oh, hush.” Aziraphale frowned and moved to the last nail. “I’ve known you for six thousand years, Crowley, I’m well aware you have a temper. I have never held against you the things you said, or did, when you were angry.”
I have plenty of other people to ‘fraternize’ with. I don’t need you.
“Never?”
“Never.” Aziraphale put down the file and pressed Crowley’s hands between both of his. “I’m sorry I didn’t make that clear.”
He lowered Crowley’s hands into the bowl of warm water. Aziraphale had added some sort of soap, and it clung thickly to his fingers in a pleasant way.
“Still…I don’t like you to…to see me like that…”
“You’ve seen me at my worst,” Aziraphale reminded him. “Do you think less of me?”
His worst? Crowley couldn’t even imagine what that would mean. The embarrassing smile as he showed off his latest magic act or shouted encouragement at the actors in a play? The possessive gleam when he saw a priceless first edition, whether one of his own or one he was about to acquire? His incorruptible desire to see the good in absolutely everyone, even Gabriel, even Crowley?
“No,” he whispered as his heart surged anew. “No, I never have.”
Aziraphale nodded, watching Crowley’s hands as they soaked in the water. “It’s good, you know, to-to have a simple ritual in a time of stress. Something you can walk through, step by step. Unhindered by, ah, by emotions. Very calming.”
“I do feel a little better,” Crowley admitted.
“I expect you do. But…I meant for myself.” He lifted Crowley’s hands free of the water and gently patted them with the towel. “I’m…I’m…well, I’m rather convinced I’m going to let you down tomorrow. Not play my part well, or…or lose my nerve…or overlook some vital clue…”
Crowley felt the tremors in Aziraphale’s hands before he suddenly pulled away, fingers twisting in the towel, pressing it against his mouth. But he couldn’t hide the wave of emotion that overtook him before Crowley’s eyes.
“Angel!” Crowley grabbed his shoulders, newly manicured fingers feeling more sensitive against the fabric of his shirt. “Aziraphale look at me.” Slowly, the blue eyes came back into focus. “We don’t have to do this.”
“We do. Crowley, it’s the only way.” The towel crumpled further as he crushed it in his grip. “I – I – I won’t – I’ll find a way, I just need to – to buck up…”
“Are you scared?”
“What? No, I – I—”
“Because I am.” Crowley let go with one hand to pull his glasses free, toss them aside, then reached up to brush the back of Aziraphale’s hand. “Have been for…longer than I can remember, but then I lost you. Last night, and this morning, and then…the fire…” He swallowed. “And you know what? Each time it felt more real and more painful than before, and I don’t…I can’t…”
His gut heaved. The hollowness he’d felt after the fire opened again, threatening to devour him, permanently this time. “Aziraphale. I am more terrified right now than I’ve ever been in my life, and I don’t know how to stop it. So. If you’re scared…that’s fine.”
The towel fell, and Aziraphale took Crowley’s hand in both of his again, but this time clinging to it, clutching it, pressing Crowley’s fingers against his lips where the towel had been a moment before. Crowley reached with his free hand and…what? Touch his face? His hair? What was he supposed to do?
Before he could decide, Aziraphale seemed to blink his eyes clear and look again at Crowley’s nails. “Just a few hangnails to trim, and then we’re done.”
“Nh. Yeah.” He settled more comfortably. “Whatever you want.”
--
Aziraphale held Crowley’s hand, carefully massaging moisturizer across his palm, between his fingers, and into his nail beds. Memorizing the shape of them, the knobby knuckles, the veins on the back of his hands.
He’d wanted to do this once before, when the thoughts that needed to be hidden, even from himself, had threatened to overwhelm him. 1941. He’d longed to sit Crowley down and wash his feet, check them for burns and injury after his walk across hallowed ground. Let the activity distract his mind from the thoughts and emotions he couldn’t afford to acknowledge, and just be there, in the moment, caring for Crowley. Appreciating him. Holding him.
It was just as well he hadn’t attempted it back then; evidence tonight suggested it didn’t work.
He ran his thumbs across Crowley’s palm one last time, smoothing in the moisturizer, feeling the skin plump up, taking note of the calluses here and there just below the fingers. He didn’t want to let go.
“Aziraphale,” Crowley said, when his fingers had lingered perhaps a bit too long. He looked up to meet the demon’s golden eyes. They were soft tonight, and vulnerable, and filled with pain that tugged at his heart. But that pain seemed to be fading, replaced by…by one of the things Aziraphale was not supposed to be naming. What with the thunderous pounding of his heart in his chest and the blood in his ears, Aziraphale almost missed Crowley’s next words: “Thank you.”
Very suddenly, his heart went absolutely still.
“You…you’ve never…said thank you.”
“Grave oversight.” Crowley turned his hands over, running his thumb across his newly manicured nails. “This is…yeah, this is nice.”
“Ah. Well.” Aziraphale waved a hand, neatly teleporting his supplies into a different room. It was his usual method of cleaning up – eventually, things would wind up where they were supposed to be – but he realized alarmingly late that this now meant he and Crowley were simply sitting on a bed together. “I…I suppose I should thank you. For, ah, for indulging me—”
“Should I…return the favor?”
“Ah!” He snatched his hands against his chest, as if afraid Crowley would steal them entirely. Well. That wasn’t quite what he was afraid of. “Return? How – how would you – Crowley, my nails are – are already in tip-top shape, and you wouldn’t—”
“Your wings. Like I said,” Crowley went on, familiar sharp edge slipping into his tone, “absolute mess. You’re one to talk about grooming, carrying around two disasters like that.”
“Crowley!” Aziraphale was about to snap something else, but his eyes accidentally met the demon’s, and there was nothing mocking about them at all. Anxious, shy, almost waiting to be hurt. Did he always hide that expression behind his glasses?
“I, ah…I’ve never…how do we do this?”
Crowley’s eyes went wide. “Ngk. Unh. I mean. Sit there or…or maybe…lay down? On your stomach?”
“Ah, yes, I wouldn’t want to – to get tired, holding them up.” Aziraphale stretched out across the top of the duvet, resting his cheek on one of the pitch-black pillows, and extended his wings.
He could have sworn he heard a heavy breath – maybe a gasp, maybe a sigh. “Just as I thought. Look at this utter disgrace. When was the last time you preened?”
“Well, as I never walk around with them out—” Aziraphale was cut off by an impossibly gentle touch, two fingers brushing lightly across the leading edge of his wing. It felt…good, an electric shiver that ran down his wing and up his spine.
“Oh! S-sorry.” Crowley sounded embarrassed, which was something Aziraphale had never heard before. “I shouldn’t have…is this alright?”
“Yes. It’s…it’s very much alright.” He wrapped his arms around the pillow, feeling the need to brace himself, and stretched his left wing slightly. “Please, continue.”
The touch of Crowley’s palms against his wings was electrifying, yes, but also gentle, soothing. He carefully explored down the length of them, not stirring any feathers yet, just learning the ways they lay against each other, where they grew thick, where the flight feathers emerged. Aziraphale could feel the feathers that were out of place now – they snagged and tugged against Crowley’s hands, bunching in the wrong spots. Uncomfortable, the way sitting in a chair too long could be uncomfortable without even noticing.
“You’re lucky you didn’t need to fly,” Crowley remarked, scolding, as if it was an everyday risk, instead of something that hadn’t come up in five thousand years. His fingers now flicked around the shortest patch of Aziraphale’s coverts, just shy of the leading edge, finding one of the culprits. Manicured fingertips burrowed deep into white feathers, hot against the skin and muscle beneath, and with a few quick but gentle scratches twitched it back into position. “Does this hurt?”
“No…That feels…” Crowley traced the feather from base to tip, pushing the barbs back into the correct alignment. A few more strokes ensured it lay, flat and neat, alongside the rest.
“One down, dozens more to go. And that’s just this side. Hope you’re comfortable.”
He was, though. Aziraphale closed his eyes, sinking into the gentle rhythm as Crowley moved – feather by feather – across his wing, setting each to rights. He felt as though a burden were being lifted, the worry in his stomach slowly unknotting, bit by imperceptible bit, as if the world were fading away, leaving nothing but that touch.
By the time Crowley reached Aziraphale’s alula feathers, the pain in his gut was gone. As he worked his way back across the primary coverts towards the scapulars, Aziraphale began to forget what he’d been worried about. Then the warm fingers ran down the first of his flight feathers, and time stopped entirely.
--
Crowley had never imagined Aziraphale’s feathers could feel so different from his own, but they did, so soft and delicate he would have believed they were pieces of clouds if not for the warmth that emanated through them.
Was it because angel feathers were somehow more pure? Or was it simply a matter of familiarity – that his fingers had stopped even noticing the texture of his own wings?
He was nearly finished. Really, he was done already, but his hands still glided across coverts and primaries, feeling for anything out of place, any excuse to delay longer.
“Right there, please.” Aziraphale suddenly interrupted. “Just…just a little itch. Could you…?”
“Got it.” Crowley let his fingers sink in again, scratching gently at the base of a feather. “Here?”
Aziraphale just murmured in relief, a little sigh. Crowley had knelt beside him to better reach the wing, but now Aziraphale shifted, pressing their hips together. “This feels simply marvelous.”
“Y-yeah,” Crowley said, clearing his throat. “S’why you’re supposed to do it regularly.”
“I should have asked you to, years ago.”
Crowley smoothed the feathers back into place. He was finished. It was time. Time to switch and part ways, possibly forever.
He didn’t lift his fingers from the edge of Aziraphale’s wing.
“Would you have?” Crowley wondered, surprising himself to hear the words out loud. “Would you have let me, if I’d asked?”
Stirring, Aziraphale tucked his wings away, all that glorious heat vanishing to another plane. He rolled over and considered Crowley, but didn’t sit up yet. “I’m not sure. I…I would have wanted to. But…well…”
“And if I’d – I’d asked for other things?”
“I don’t know. Would you have asked? If I’d indicated my interest?”
Somewhere, the sun was rising. Somewhere, the day was starting. Time, never any time.
“I don’t know,” Crowley confessed, the words ripped from his soul. And then, not letting himself think, he fell forward, onto the pillows.
Aziraphale caught him, pulled him into an embrace. “I want to find out, Crowley. What we are. What we can be. I wish…I wish…”
Long fingers reached up to cradle Aziraphale’s cheek. “I know, Angel. I know. We’ll get our chance.”
Aziraphale nodded, though the tears in his eyes said he didn’t believe it. A brush of fingers on the back of Crowley’s hand, and Aziraphale turned to kiss his palm, his wrist. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I wasted our time. And now…”
“No, you didn’t waste anything.” He pulled Aziraphale roughly against his chest. “You hear me? Nothing. I’m…I’m glad for every moment we had.”
The angel didn’t respond, just sobbed, once, face pressed into Crowley’s shirt.
“Shhh. We’ll survive this. I swear it. And then we’ll have eternity to figure this out. Alright? You and me. And…and things will be different this time. I’ll be different.”
“Don’t you dare,” Aziraphale said, his arms locking behind Crowley, strong enough to break his spine. “Don’t you change a thing, Crowley. I don’t want anything to be different.”
“Really? You’re happy with how things were?”
“Oh, yes.” Aziraphale pushed back, just enough to meet Crowley’s gaze, eyes wide and wet and earnest. “So…so very happy, when we were together.”
“Well, then.” Crowley bent forward, resting his lips on the top of Aziraphale’s head. “That’s what we’ll do, yeah? Be together. Forever.”
#good omens#good omens fanfiction#ineffable husbands#Wings#crowley's flat#aziraphale and crowley#angst#good omens angst#emotional h/c#pre-body swap#night at crowley's flat#aziraphale#crowley#manicure#tumblr fic#my writing
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Season 6 supernatural re-write
keeping the seasonal plot points the same but tweaking the specifics so it flows more cohesively and sets up the next few seasons better.
we start with bobby phoning dean. it’s been 7 months since sam fell into the cage, dean’s looked for/at every possible way to get him out. he’s mourning still, but the days are getting easier.
then the call. a demon, or a shifter, or something. dean meets up with him. bobby has a photo - it’s definitely, unmistakably sam.
(because wtf there’s no universe bobby wouldn’t tell dean that sam was back from the dead if he knew, so - )
they track sam down. silver, holy water, everything. sam just laughs and goes for a hug, effectuating his best I Have a Soul impression for dean’s sudden appearance. he’s been out of the cage for months, running with this other crew now.
(not sam campbell because him coming back from the dead was dumb. another hunter group, maybe one that sprung up around or as a result of the apocalypse. remind us of the previous season’s plot and the fact that sam was hunted by other hunters. remind us how dissonant and disjointed it is that he’s working with them now).
no, he doesn’t think it’s odd that he didn’t go and get dean. dean was happy, sam was happy to leave him to it.
dean and bobby are O.O
it is Immediately obvious that Something is Wrong. any pretense otherwise is dispelled very quickly and sam gives up the game, shrugs. tells it like it is. he didn’t go get dean back because dean might hold him back, because dean cares so much about coddling him and sam’s fine, he’s great, awesome, actually. he’s strong and solid and doesn’t feel burdened. he’s light. he doesn’t sleep.
he doesn’t sleep?
okay, so something might be off, but he’s not looking a gift horse in the mouth. dean can be his partner again though, sam likes having him around. it’s nice, they work well together. it’s good.
(is it the blood, sam? what? no, no, haha, i tried that. didn’t even take. it doesn’t work for me anymore. how weird is that? you did what? yeah, i wasn’t craving it, but i thought it might help me get stronger. it didn’t do anything. weird, right?)
(sam doesn’t need sleep but dean hardly can sleep after hearing that)
bobby is researching like mad to figure out what’s wrong with sam and sam is like...yeah fine whatever i think i’m supposed to care about you so i guess this is fine.
sam and lisa do Not get along. sam’s smile is razor sharp and she feels uncomfortable to have him in her house. we get the distinct impression sam let dean get vamped to spite her, and possibly egged dean on to her house. it doesn’t take a truth spell for dean to call in the big guns after that.
cass finally answers the phone prayer. he hadn’t considered the amount of danger dean might be in around Soulless till now. cass soul-fists sam and tells hm he has no soul. oops.
and he doesn’t remember anything about hell? about how he got out of the cage? nothing at all?
sam smiles placidly. nothing, cass. i have no clue how i got out.
(he knows. cass knows he knows).
sam agrees to get his soul back because why not. then he finds out how unpleasant that will be. he blackmails cass into helping him stop it from happening. (angels can’t get that far into hell without an army or an ally, cass. what did it cost for crowley to let you into hell? you his bitch now, cass? is that it?).
cass and Souless as feral energy and restrained violence with each other. (”i dragged you out of that cage and i will throw you back in.” and “you dragged me out wrong and if you didn’t fuck this up the first time this wouldn’t be an issue now would it?”)
dean figuring out death can get sam’s soul. sam like ‘oh shit’ and trying to stop that, not by attempting to kill bobby (because this is my re-write and i hated that). except cass double-crosses sam and gags Soulless so he can’t spill the beans on him before the soul gets shoved in his body and the wall goes up.
in this version, cass puts up the wall (not Death). it’s not even clear if it’s necessary because the audience Does Not Trust cass at this point in the season after all the lies and talks with Soulless. Death gives us important exposition about the scarring on Sam’s soul and how deep it goes, how his soul is in literal tatters. it can repair itself, but it’s going to take a long damn time. this is gonna be relevant for the next three seasons.
note: his soul being in tatters is unrelated to the psychological trauma that the wall is keeping at bay inside his mind.
sam gets his soul. the wall goes up. sam remembers nothing.
cass like :))) this is fine :)))
cass’s lies are spiralling. season plot happens, meg, demons, etc. mr. not-sam-campbell betrays them, crowley is an asshole, raphael, etc.
(can you imagine if Mr. not-sam-campbell was actually bela talbot? she was one of crowley’s contracts and maybe he resurrected her because he knows she’s the best and so she can keep an eye on cage-freed sam because crowley might’ve given cass permission to go down the cage but he’s not stupid enough not to keep his eye on this situation. gaaaah i miss bela so much, and the parallel of sam/bela and dean/lisa and dean’s memories of ruby but bela is Not a demon and she is terrified of Soulless because he’s a sociopath through and through, anyway don’t mind me).
when it all comes apart, when sam’s memories are slipping through and he starts to remember conversations with cass from when he was soulless, puts pieces together -
cass breaks his wall. floods him with it. the “i dragged you out of the cage and i can put you back in” we had set up with him and sam earlier in the season is now actually coming full-circle in a metanarrative sense, and paying off cass first saying that to dean in s4 because sam’s pain is dean’s hell. chef’s kiss.
end of the season plays out the same. like i said, so few plot changes, just more cohesion and in-character.
next we’ll do seasons 7, 8, then 9 and how they will flow from this build-up better.
#i'm smart and i'm right#supernatural#spn#supernatural season 6#phyn rambles#let me edit season 6-15 i'll fix them#s7 and s8 will be the biggest overhauls i think#this is what i was thinking about on my morning walk today
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