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callmerainman · 3 months

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Alastor with a pure hearted s/o

a/n I'm fully aware that Alastor is aroace. My scenarios are meant to be interpreted as a deep, unconditional love, not necessarily romantic. I'm not aroace but I'm all for educating myself, so please if something's off let me (gently) know. Hope you enjoy :)

TW! canon typical violence

being a twisted person is not a requirement to reincarnate in Hell. Sins depend on religion, culture, societal norms. You were more of a victim, in fact.

you never got used to being in Hell. Surviving not only the Extermination but also the inhabitants becomes harder and harder every year.

it's kill or be killed, but you just can't bring yourself to do any harm to anyone, even if it means risking your own life.

as soon as you hear about princess Charlie Morningstar's new hotel for souls who want a second chance, your bags are PACKED

it's not like you really need redemption, you are pure hearted already. it's more a matter of understanding the reasons why you ended in Hell and coming to terms with them. maybe then the gates of Heaven would open for you. it's also a safer place for you to be.

Charlie welcomes you excitedly; Angel Dust, Husk and Vaggie aren't that friendly at first since your personalities don't match, but they eventually grow fond of you

and then there's, well...the Radio Demon.

you never met an Overlord before, and Alastor was supposed to be gone for years. But his presence wasn't frightening. A big smile spread across his face, he welcomed you like a gentleman.

you heard stories about his lifestyle and even previous murderous acts as a human, but for some reason you just can't bring yourself to fear him.

at first you were kinda pathetic to him. so naive, out of touch with the evils of Hell. he didn't dislike you. just thought your life was so easy to throw away in a society like that and that you wouldn't last long.

it seems like you two don't have much to share. he just wanders in his den, while you spend time in your room. you greet each other and have small talks, but nothing more than that. that's until he hears jazz music play behind your door.

he mentions it during dinner, and you start talking about your interest in 30s jazz music, especially the one of the Roaring 20s. you come from a later era, but you're very much cultured about jazz and its forms and that's enough for Alastor to develop an interest in you.

he has so many jazz artists recommendations, and you share some of your favourite pieces with him through your gramophone.

without even noticing, Alastor starts spending hours in your room just listening to music. some time even practicing swing dancing. and talking about jazz culture all around the world, and entertainment in general. he has many fun facts about the history of radio too!

the others at the hotel notice your growing bond and low-key support it, in their own, weird way. Angel Dust is especially convinced that you two are hooking up, as Husk not-so-kindly explains that it's more likely for Alastor to ascend to Heaven than express interest in sex.

you would start to open yourself up a bit to the Radio Demon. he doesn't understand why, since it didn't ask or never showed much empathy. but he just can't bring himself to tell you to stop. he wants to listen.

you manage to make him talk about some glimpses of his own life and thoughts. you knew that he was the complete opposite of you. incline to Evil, an enjoyer of all things that made your stomach clench. but he's still the one person who spends hours with you just listening to both jazz and your fears.

one day, Alastor decided that in no way you are walking around the city without him. it's just too dangerous for you. he tries to teach you how to use weapons and demonic powers to defend yourself but he doesn't feel like you can make it into Hell by yourself.

you like strolling through the streets with him, arms intertwined, chatting and laughing even if demons around you are shitting their pants just by seeing the Overlord walking around.

but one day, Alastor can't find you.

you're not in your room, or in the Hotel hall. No one saw you that morning. He starts to feel something he never felt in his life: fear.

he darts out the Hotel, trying to find you. that's when he sees you just a few streets away.

a group of animal-like demons is encircling you. you are on your knees, arms over your head to protect yourself. A lion-demon is holding a knife over you and your arms are covered in cuts. you hold something close to your stomach.

that's when Alastor realized that he had feelings for you.

when he threw himself between you and the demons attacking you.

it's the first time you see Alastor without a smile. his teeth are gritted, face full of unprecedented violence and will to kill, breathing heavily in and out in a sort of animalistic way, but there's no trace of his characteristic smile you love.

his body starts to morph into his full demon form. his horns grow exponentially, his body too as it hovers menacingly on top of your aggressors as they start to feel a pure fear they never felt before.

in a matter of a second, they are gone. Alastor has always been a calculated, elegant killer, but this time he only felt a raw, ferocious instinct to kill.

as he's done, he turns around towards you. he doesn't want to, but he snaps.

"W̶̞̐H̷̻͒Y̷̰̅ ̶̠͛D̸͕́I̸͔̍D̴̿͜ ̷̯̇Y̶̭͌Ỏ̴̬U̵̖̍ ̷̛͎Ģ̷̕O̸̩͑ ̷̹̈́O̶̮͆U̸͍̇T̴̙͆ ̷̧̀W̴͓̅I̷̞͑T̸̗͒H̴̹͒O̴̺̓Ṷ̵̂T̵̺̚ ̵̢́M̴̜̅E̶̬̋?̸̻͋!̸̦͂"

you flinch, you never saw Alastor lose his composure. he was always so calm and collected. his voice was static, choppy.

the tears that were cornering your eyes start streaming down your face "I-I..."

"Ţ̶̈Ḧ̴͙́Ė̵̩Ỳ̷̳ ̷̳̒Ã̸̡L̷̛͚M̶͇̚O̸͈̔S̴̜̎T̸͚̊ ̷̤͝K̷͊͜I̵̺͝L̵͚̎L̴̤̆Ẽ̴͖D̶͍̈́ ̵̻͝Y̵̰̑O̸̜͘Ù̶͍!̵̻͝ ̸͓̾D̴̯͒O̶̅͜Ṉ̶̌'̷̹͒T̵͎͋ ̶̺́Y̴̹͂O̶͍̅U̴̘͌ ̵̘̾Û̷̪N̸̩̊D̵͎̋Ȅ̴͜R̵̮͂S̸̰̄T̸̝̅A̵͓͘N̷̩͂Ḏ̴̀?̵̗̍!̸̭̎"

suddenly, your bleeding arms fall from your head. you expose what you've been protecting all along.

a vinyl, a really old record from Alastor's favourite jazz artist. a rare find.

"I-I know but...tomorrow it's your death anniversary and I wanted to give this to you...as a surprise. I'm sorry"

Alastor's face immediately softens. Eyebrows raised, smile still not seen. He's just surprised and...moved.

He doesn't say anything, he just picks you up in his arms and takes you back to the Hotel where he bandages your arms.

Feeling guilty for putting yourself in danger, you ask Alastor to come to your room in order to apologize to him.

As he closes the door behind him, he says that there's no need to apologize.

"I'm...glad that you are still in your room. Listening to jazz, alive"

words didn't come easy, but he did feel the need to say it. you smile at him.

you propose to put his gift on the gramophone and so you do. music starts to flow between the small space you shared with the Radio Demon.

that's when you and Alastor start slow dancing. his arms around your waist, yours encircling his neck. his smile is back, but soft and...almost loving.

with his silent agreement, you reach for his cheek and graze it.

"Thank you for saving me, Alastor. Even if you are everything I distance myself from in this life...I'm glad you are the person that you are with me. In my next life, I'll make sure to be a sinner again if it means dancing with you like this"

Alastor now understands his feelings. It's something deeper than care. It's love. But not the same love you reserve to a friend and not even romantic. It's something deeper, more visceral.

He doesn't answer, just closes his eyes and leans in to press his forehead against yours.

you later fall asleep on your bed to the quiet sound of the gramophone playing, hands intertwined on Alastor's chest.

#alastor #alastor the radio demon #radio demon #hazbin hotel #vivziepop #alastor x reader #alastor x reader headcanons #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction #writers on tumblr #headcanons #hazbin hotel fanfiction

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amuseoffyre · 14 days

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I've been rolling around in Good Omens thoughts again and a gifset made something jump out at me.

This is where the Metatron is going to come undone. He's got the same binary thinking as Heaven. Good or bad. Heaven or hell. Coffee or death. So predictable.

It reminded me of the scene in S1 when Aziraphale is confronted by the angels and they tell him "it's time to choose a side" and this is where it gets chewy and delicious.

Aziraphale points out "there obviously has to be two sides. That's the whole point, so people can make choices. That's what being human means - choices, but that's for them. Our job as angels should be to keep all this working so they can make choices".

He's already arguing for humanity all the way through S1, which is a problem, but it's something he's done consistently. Not questioning. Very much, not questioning. Just... offering suggestions. So this isn't news. He's even made these kind of suggestions to the Metatron before, so not new.

At the end of S1, Crowley points out that he thinks the real 'big one' is coming "Heaven and Hell against humanity". Aziraphale has been sitting with that knowledge for years. He and Crowley have been dancing on the edge of disaster with Heaven and Hell turning up whenever they wanted, invading their space, demanding their time and compliance even though they are seen as rogue agents.

Everything in S2 is Aziraphale trying to maintain the veneer of everything is fine while still dealing with the terror of it all falling apart. The "or death" has been hanging over them the whole time. He saw the attempted execution. He's been told by Heaven that Crowley is under threat.

But the thing about Aziraphale is that he never ever does the predictable thing. Yes, he agreed to go back to Heaven. Yes, the Metatron leveraged Crowley's safety against him to guarantee it. The statement of "I don't want to go back to Heaven" turning around as soon as Crowley's safety is brought into it. Yes, he'll be the Archangel.

But this is the angel who gave away his flaming sword and lied to God's face. This is the angel who interfered in a bet between God and Satan to save the lives of three children. This is the angel who collaborated with a demon so they could have more down time. This is the angel who was swayed towards saving the world because he loves his life there and all his favourite foods and music and indulgences. This is the angel who flipped the bird and dive-bombed out of Heaven to possess a medium and fly a scooter to the end of the world.

Whatever the Metatron thinks he's done by separating Crowley and Aziraphale, he has no idea what he's unleashed. Crowley's bee metaphor comes to mind here. Angels are fiercely protective of Heaven but once you're inside? Well, that's another story. Aziraphale may look like a bee, but he hasn't been a bee for a long, long time. They knew it at his trial.

And Aziraphale can't say he didn't warn them:

"So you're probably thinking if he can do this, I wonder what else he can do and very, very soon, you're all going to get the chance to find out"

Heaven's got a big storm coming and they let it right in through the front door.

#good omens #good omens meta #Aziraphale

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creepy-friday · 1 year

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Can I make a request? Headcanons or a little Oneshot idk of Alastor x Wife!reader? Both being couple goals like Morticia and Gómez. Being evil together, like a good old classical couple 👉👈🥺

Alastor x Wife!Reader

I can see the reader symbolic animal being a crow/bat,and being able to manipulate/manifest them in both physical and shadow form

they would get along with Alastor's manifestations,sometimes he would pet them,have them around whenever you're not since he craves presence

both of you play spooky little tricks on the other demons such as making things levitate,opening the doors,flicking the lights,it's truly amusing seeing the undead fear the ..well..undead

you would give "soft nightmares" to someone then said someone would think they're prophetic and Alastor would further convince them they are just so that they make a deal with him to keep them safe from absolutely nothing

both of you give each other the side eye everytime something happens that both of you don't agree on

he has a shadow attached to you and inevitably the said shadow would try to woo you every chance he has

the "microphone" he has also has to be a little bit oblivious at times.

Both of you sit in complete silence,just enjoying each others presence while doing your own thing then suddenly his mic opens his little eye "what a lovely couple both of you are,what were the odds for both of you to be silent in bed!" Alastor chuckles and you let out an annoyed giggle "did you hear that,dear?" you ask him,putting your chore aside.

"Of course,just don't mind him,but for real now,what were the odds?" he continues to joke about it."No.That was the sound of a fucking divorce." you joke in return making him even more flustered and talkative,getting him all touchy feely with you

for real now,the word "divorce" makes him a top comedian,cook,lover and everything in between,even if it's in the context of a joke,he wouldn't want to lose you

if your personality tends to be more introverted/melancholic he would 100% take it as a challange and would do everything in his power to get you to do something completely out of your character

he never calls you by your name(except for serious occasions/spicy ones,if you know what I mean) but rather uses pet names such as "Honey";"Dear";"Darling"; "Cara mia"

uses every opportunity to dance with you whenever a good song is playing

you don't have to be shy with him,his mischievous personality will totally use it to his benefit and tease the living hell out of you

I have this lil' headcanon that if the both of you are listening in to a conversation and if you can't hear,he would manifest some old headphones to hear better "here you go,darling"

"Husk is adorable" you sing,trying to pet the man in question "Well,I say he looks completely utterly miserable!Of course you find him adorable!" Alastor laughs,bringing his one sided friend closer to your reach

asks your opinion on every important decision he has to make even if he is already sure about what to do.If you have a different view on it he will definitely reconsider

Angel Dust would be all sighs,puffs and "get a room" just because the two of you do simple romantic gestures such as Alastor's gentlemanly behaviour of kissing your hand and such

Vaggie's tolerance of Alastor drops to 0,but she adores enjoys your presence.She wishes both of you would have more time together but your husband always needs to barge in and annoy the living hell out of her.Alastor doesn't really likes her so he wouldn't want you around her that much

dark humour that leaves everyone poker face except the two of you

he doesn't except much from you tbh,just the same old love to be reciprocated

#Alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel headcanons #alastor x reader #alastor #Alastor #radio demon #radio demon x reader #Alastor headcanons #alastor headcanons #y/n #wife!reader

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bestosunglass · 2 months

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Hi! I just wanted to say how lovely and interesting you make your platonic radiostatic :)) I saw your stuff on TikTok and I’m loving seeing it here as well!

I see so much one-sided or romantic radiostatic, and while I love it all, this is by far my personal favorite depiction of their relationship. Your art makes them look like such cuties even while they’re two of the scariest demons in hell <3 my personal fav so far is Al laying with Vox while he recharges it’s just so cute!!!

If you don’t mind me poking your brain of it I’d love to hear more about your AU and headcannons! If you want to bounce off of something specific then I’d love to hear how the residents of the hotel think of Alastor and Vox and if they clump them together or think of them differently.

In any case I adore your art and hope to see more of it no matter the fandom!

I'm really glad you like it!!! I didn't expect it to get this reception at all as I was planning on it being something more along the lines of "Comfort" after seeing so much Angst content, so I'm genuinely glad so many people liked it!<33

As much as I like the ship I wasn't entirely sold on seeing it in a romantic or suggestive context; I rlly love that Alastor is respected as an individual Aroace (as a fellow Aroace lol) so seeing him in contexts of that sort were a bit ... demotivating??? So I wanted to create this Au of them being typical husbands but on a platonic way.

The residents of the hotel definitely have different opinions. On one side is Charlie who sees this as a great miracle, the two great entertainment representatives from hell, giving her hotel a chance! Especially when her relationship dances very well between the two of them; with Alastor there is "the voice of reason", the one who offers a solution and listens patiently and undaunted to whatever news she gives him, where she knows she will find an answer as Alastor chooses the pen over the sword; while with Vox there is the chaotic, where the sword is above the pen. He vocifies his opinions tactlessly and offers the less gentle, quicker and more effective ways. In him Charlie finds far more vivid emotions than Alastor would be willing to unveil.

Then there is Vaggie who is of course the most informed about these two and her concern is very much on the edge as she knows that the Media Demons are a couple that absolutely no one knows anything about beyond the false image they paint in their shows and the imminent danger these two represent.

Angel, Pentius and Cherry don't really have a strong opinion about them as they pass over or ignore them. Nifty is already more than familiar with both of them.

Husk (his relationship with Alastor is considerably "better", even though Al still owns his soul, than it is in canon as Alastor still owning his soul and having a faithful and warm companion with him for years, his personality is arguably somewhat more relaxed and patient than the original), like Nifty is already familiar with them so he doesn't give the matter much thought.

And Lucifer ofc is terrified that it's not just one but two Overlords who apparently want to steal his daughter.

I still have a lot of polishing to do on this Au as it's new but I want to slowly build it here as people can offer different points of view that can be explored (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

#inbox #hazbin hotel #broadcast husbands #hazbin hotel au

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fizziepopangel · 28 days

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A Surprise For You, My Dear

* Author’s note: In this story, I’m going to interpret Alastor’s asexuality and aromanticism as more fluid than it seems to be canonically. Also, this is my first fanfic so please keep that in mind if it's shit... That being said, I hope you enjoy!

P.s. If you enjoy this fic, you can always request more with the Fic Request Form

Alastor. The radio demon. Everyone knew the radio demon, and though he had been gone for quite a while, most still feared him upon his return, but not me. Because he was different from me. Softer, kinder, more genuine. It wasn’t a relationship, at least I didn’t think it was, but I still enjoyed my time with Alastor; the dancing, the laughter we both shared, every moment left me in awe of the man that had come to be feared by so many.

“You gonna answer me or not?” Husk snapped, pulling me from my thoughts.

I tried to cover my embarrassment that struck me when I realized that I hadn’t been listening to the old bartender at all despite having been the one that came and started conversing with the man. I sat up a little straighter and looked over at the bar cat. “Sorry, I… my mind was somewhere else. What did you say?”

Husk rolled his eyes. “I’m goin’ out with Angel tonight but that damn pig of his is sick. I think the little shit got into my whiskey when Angel brought him down here last night. Angel wants to know if you’ll watch him.” He takes a long sip of whiskey in his glass. “So you up for it?”

Although I loved Fat Nuggets and would usually jump at the chance to spend time with the sweet little pig, I shook my head. “Sorry, I have plans with Alastor.” I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. “Al said he has a surprise for me tonight…”

“Right.” Husk gives me an unimpressed look that seems to say something along the lines of fuck you without outright saying fuck you. “Your boyfriend and your date night.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” I say awkwardly. “I mean.. I don’t think so…I mean, I… I just… I like him but its, it’s…” I sigh deeply, a heat rising in my cheeks. “Shut up, Husk.”

“Whatever.” Husk says in his usual empty sarcastic tone. “Guess Angel and me’ll just stay in with the pig tonight…” I watch as he turns, grabbing a glass and beginning to polish it with a rag that ironically didn’t all that clean.

“Oh… sorry, Husk…” I mumble awkwardly, suddenly feeling a bit like a dick for essentially denying the couple a night out. I knew they both deserved it but I just couldn’t bring myself to say that I would cancel on Alastor when he made the night out seem so special. “I…” I trail off for a moment, feeling the other demon’s judging eyes despite his back still being turned to me as he continues to polish glasses on the shelf behind the bar. “I’m gonna go get ready to meet Alastor. I’ll see you later, and maybe I can take Fat Nuggets another time?”

I receive a grunt in reply, but as I get off my barstool, I hear the old demon grumble under his breath…. A simple warning. “Just… Be careful around Alastor, kid…. You been having a rough enough time without his bullshit” He says, not even sparing me a glance as the words left his lips. I promise him I will, knowing that he’s only looking out for me… Husk always told me that, or at least something along those lines…. But this time felt different; this time it sent a spear of anxiety through my chest and made my mind wander to what everyone in hell knew about Alastor versus the Alastor that I knew. The Alastor that I loved despite knowing he probably didn’t and would never feel the same about me… when I really thought about it, I did wonder why the man had taken such a liking to me. I wasn't indebted to him, I had no real power in hell or the hotel, and even I knew that no matter what version of Alastor was on display, he didn't keep people around without a reason.

My thoughts continued to wander from one shitty thought to the next as I went up to my room to change for our little hang out. I was so lost in the whirlwind of thoughts when a knock at the door jolted me from where I sat in my room.

“Darling,” Alastor’s cheery, sing song voice. “Are you ready to go?”

Despite the fact that I had just been questioning my entire purpose in his life and why my companionship was so valued by him, I practically tripped over my own two feet trying to get to the door. “Al!” I beam the second I see him. “I thought we were supposed to meet up? What are you doing here?”

Sporting his signature smile, the usually detached demon waltzed into my room, grabbing me and spinning me around. “I thought we could make our way to our outing together, hmm?” He says as I giggle. “What do you say, my dear? May I escort you to the roof for your surprise?” Alastor’s smile faded into a warmer grin as he held out his hand in invitation, waiting for me to take it.

When I took his hand and let him lead me through the halls of the hotel toward the roof, it felt as if all at once the anxieties that had been gnawing away at my gut just melted away ... it was like butterflies just swarmed my insides.

“What is this big surprise, Al?" I giggle as he whisks me up to the roof, stopping just outside the door.

“Now, I know that you've had a rough week, and that you've been absolutely dying to see that new horror film…” He said giddily. “And I've set something up that I think you'll enjoy very much.”

A frown crossed my face for a moment. I had mentioned wanting to see the horror movie that came out last weekend, and I had been pretty having a shitty week, but I wasn’t sure where Alastor was going with this surprise since he wouldn’t dare touch a tv that would stream the movie. “Yeah…?” I laugh lightly as we stand in front of the door. “What, did you find someone to go to the movies with or something?”

“Not quite.” I can actually heat the excitement in his voice as he opens the door and pulls me through it. “What do you think?”

“Alastor…” I breathe, looking around at the rooftop. There’s twinkle lights strung up all over and blankets and pillows and wine sitting and a basket of my favorite snacks all sitting beside a projector pointed at the wall beside the door. “This is…”

“Oh, but wait, there’s more!” Alastor said, his shadow hitting play on the projector. The beginning sequence of the movie I had been dying to see popping up.

My eyes lit up and despite myself, I launched myself into the radio demon’s arms, eliciting a small ‘oof’ from the man before I felt his arms snake around me. “Alastor, this is amazing! I love it!” I looked up at the man who everyone around me seemed so terrified of, the man my friends warned me to be careful around. “Did you really do this for me?”

“Why of course!” The man smiled down at me, pulling me a bit closer than he usually did before his head dipped just a bit lower and I felt him place a soft kiss on my forehead. “I would do anything to make you happy, my sweet little radio wave.”

My heart stopped for just a moment before it began racing, hammering against my ribcage as the butterflies in my stomach went wild. “Al…” Before I could stop myself, I found my lips connecting with his and despite his usual aversion to touch and romance and anything that could even possibly lead to sex, he pulled me a bit closer.

When he didn't pull away, it felt like electricity crackling in my veins. I felt like every star in the sky aligned perfectly as he held me. It felt perfect, it felt right.

Radio static cracked in the air around us and Alastor’s face was just a light shade of red, no doubt mirroring my own embarrassment at what I had just done.

“Well then, “ Alastor cleared his throat, the static seeming to fade a bit as he straightened his jacket and held his hand out to me. "Shall we sit down and watch the movie?” I take his hand and nod wordlessly, afraid that I would ruin what was certainly a perfect moment if I uttered even a word or asked him to define our relationship.

Alastor showed me to my seat on the blanketed area he had set up, I immediately sank into the soft pillows and blankets, and smiled as he sat down beside me. The movie began to play and as the opening credits began to roll, I knew I should at least thank him for all of this since I knew it was a show of care he reserved for only those he loved on some level, but before I could form a coherent sentence, I felt it… His arm snaked around my waist and pulled me closer to his own body.

“I don’t think I could’ve made this anymore perfect if I tried, Al.” I sigh softly, resting my head against his chest and listening to the quiet, steady crackle of radio static that always seemed to emit from the demon. Although he set this movie night up for me, I’m not even watching the movie, but rather, just trying to soak up this moment before it slips away. “Thank you.”

Alastor chuckles, his hand gently coming to rest on my chin. My breath caught in my throat as he leaned in, our lips hovering just apart from one anothers. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, my dear.” The static completely stops and his whisper tickles my lips as he catches them in another soft kiss.

The week had been shitty, but this… This was perfect.

Alastor Tag list : @writersonicfan91

#fizziepop thoughts #fizzie's fics #vivziepop #hazbin hotel #first fanfic #alastor hazbin hotel #the radio demon #alastor x reader #fic request #fluff fic #alastor fluff #hazbin hotel x reader #huskerdust mention

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ao3cassandraic · 9 months

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What does Aziraphale know and when does he know it? Part 3, The Fiasco

Prologue, Part 1, and Part 2, for those who need them.

Let's play an incredibly clichéd game about acting: What's My Motivation?

When Aziraphale walks back into the bookshop after his chinwag with the Metatron, Crowley's motivation is singular and steel-strong: he wants to declare his love for Aziraphale and truly launch Our Side. That's it. That's all there is.

If only things were so clear for our poor angel. If we accept my prior analysis, at this point he's got several things he needs to do, all of them in the name of thwarting the Metatron's wiles:

Like Shax, inform Crowley that something -- something still unclear, but definitely something -- is going down in the up. Up up. (Beautiful bookending here. Beautiful.)

Beg for Crowley's help to...

Make a plan to deal with it. (And he's all out of plan-juice after the demon fight in the bookshop, poor angel.)

All this without letting the Metatron know that Aziraphale doesn't trust him, didn't buy his bullshit, doesn't want to accept his job offer but may have to accept to have any chance of thwarting him (or, you know, surviving), and thinks the whole business reeks to (you should excuse the expression) high Heaven. He has reason to think this feat can be pulled off, because he knows from the chinwag that the Metatron is neither infallible nor omniscient.

So yeah, I think there's some playwright or screenwriter slogan about characters who are talking to one another having completely different conversations at the same time? Totally what's happening here.

In a truly remarkable bit of dramatic irony, Crowley, who is usually a stickler for kayfabe, has utterly dropped it -- he's being gorgeously heart-on-his-sleeve sincere -- while Aziraphale, who is often slack about kayfabe, is playacting for the Metatron's benefit like their lives depend on it. This... doesn't help them get on the same page. (Litotes. Your key to quality meta.)

Let's see how that works out for them.

As Nina and Maggie leave after blowing Crowley's brain to smithereens, Aziraphale continues taking deep breaths to pull himself together, pasting on a smile for the ladies... and, as it turns out, for the Metatron watching from across the street.

He who hesitates is lost; the determined, singleminded Crowley starts in. Aziraphale tries non-verbally to stop him. That's what the hands-out pushing-down-and-away gesture is -- with a quick sidewise glance out the window toward the Metatron, no less. But Crowley will not be stopped, so Aziraphale has to use his words -- "hold that thought."

Not "no." Not "I'm talking blithely over you for no reason." Just "not now, please, I need help." And again, I can't blame him. He does need help, urgently, because whatever bullshit the Metatron laid down about "take all the time you need," he's expecting an answer from Aziraphale (and it jolly well better be "yes" at that) and worse, he's not leaving the vicinity to wait for it.

So Aziraphale starts explaining the Metatron's offer, sounding rather forced and inarticulate. None of the bodily markers of true Aziraphalean joy are present. He's holding his torso straight and still, and his hands are not doing the shoulder-level wave of joy -- they're doing the aimless-gesture dance of anxious confusion.

He says, "The Metatron... you know, I don't think he's as bad a fellow -- well, I think I might have misjudged him."

When Aziraphale's happy, he tosses around words like "nice" and "kind" and "good." Did y'all hear any of those words? I didn't. I heard another covert call for help: I misjudged the Metatron, Crowley, he's not as bad as I thought -- he's so, so much worse! And he rather reasonably thinks Crowley will pick up on this because they've played a lot of rounds of the kayfabe clue-dropping improv game over the millennia, the last round not fifteen minutes ago.

Then Aziraphale recounts the chinwag. His words appear accurate (the cuts back and forth to the chinwag itself are pretty seamless), though again, we don't know what he might be leaving out.

Crowley is distracted from his purpose by the raised bribe. "He said what?!"

If I'm Aziraphale in this moment, with the Metatron all but physically dragging me back to Heaven, I would want Crowley with me there in the worst way! Going to Heaven together, rather than Aziraphale alone, might be the start of a plan capable of thwarting the Metatron! So I don't think Aziraphale's starry-eyed statement of the offer is about wanting to change Crowley (though the implication absolutely is there for us to pick up on and dislike). I don't think it's about keeping Crowley safe, either -- anyplace with the Metatron in it is categorically not safe. It's a "yes, actually, this might work! do you think it'll work? will you come with me and see?"

Aziraphale then puts on the unhappiest happy-news performance ever. No happy hands. No shoulder shimmies. His voice is in its highest, most anxious register. His smile is decidedly tense and kayfabe-y.

Over the next part of the fiasco, Aziraphale figures out that Crowley hasn't picked up the kayfabe phone; the angel's face visibly falls as he listens to Crowley rant. Crowley's taking all this seriously -- which is also reasonable; Crowley's being honest and Aziraphale, historically, mostly ignores kayfabe. And this is a problem, because Aziraphale still needs Crowley to locate a clue, still needs a plan, still needs help.

So Aziraphale calls back to the s1 bandstand: he starts telling the same old whoppers about good and evil and Heaven and Hell, whoppers so transparent to Crowley (and likely enough to fool the Metatron, what with his contempt for everyone ever) that Crowley must pick up on the kayfabe, mustn't he? Mustn't he?

But he doesn't. Crowley doesn't pick up on it. (Again, fair. He's had to put up with centuries of Aziraphalean unexamined self-righteousness.) He just says "Tell me you said no," with a strong undercurrent of "if you actually care for and value me, you bloody well said no."

And Aziraphale can't, because the Metatron is watching, explain that he didn't say no because the Metatron was not taking no for an answer, and because Aziraphale himself doesn't know what to do, which response will lead to a Metatron-thwarting. He's running out of kayfabe lines to say that will get Crowley back onside, and this desperation shows in his face and his two or three fruitless attempts to speak, before he finally says, sincerely to my ear, that he could make a difference.

Which is what he's trying to do! It's his motivation! He wants to make a difference by thwarting the fucking Metatron! Which may well mean going back to Heaven!

But this isn't the meaning that Crowley hears (and a lot of us missed it too, me included at first -- no shade, Gaiman and Sheen did a lights-out job of trick-with-the-truth with that line). Crowley hears that Aziraphale wants to go work with the Metatron to do Heaven's will, and he'll trample Crowley's very identity to do so. So Crowley, still singleminded, still determined, now as desperate as Aziraphale to be understood, finally forces himself as close as he can get to a declaration of love.

Watch Aziraphale as Crowley declares them a team, a group. He glances out toward the Metatron again. He looks anxious and unhappy, hardly the face of an angel whose long-time unacknowledged partner is finally acknowledging their partnership. This isn't what Aziraphale needs just then. Just then, Aziraphale needs Crowley's help, and he can't for the life of him figure out how to tell Crowley that without tipping off the Metatron to the kayfabe. He's failed at it how many times by now?

Then Crowley pulls a second bandstand: "we can just go off together." Aziraphale, as other meta-ists have noted, can't say yes to this any more than he did in s1. He's got a Metatron to thwart! So he shakes his head, and he begs Crowley to come with him, repeating that they can make a difference. That's sincere! He wants them to! But, to my ear, there's still a teensy bit of possible kayfabe in there, with "second-in-command." That just rings false.

"You can't leave this bookshop." "Oh, Crowley. Nothing lasts forever." Kayfabe, kayfabe, kayfabe -- Aziraphale is a guardian and an avowed and demonstrated preservationist. This line is for the Metatron to buy and Crowley to finally do a proper WTF about.

And Crowley WTFs, all right, but in the wrong way, putting on his shades and heading for the door. Now Aziraphale is truly desperate -- he tries to call Crowley back, and he tells another part of the truth: "I NEED YOU!" To help. To thwart the Metatron.

And yet another part of the truth, duly kayfabed, with the angel starting to be a bit irked at Crowley's stubborn misapprehension: "I don't think you understand what I'm offering you." Namely, a chance to thwart the Metatron.

Crowley sure doesn't. He suuuuuuuuuuuure doesn't. He's still having a completely different conversation. Aziraphale gives up in exasperated despair: "then there's nothing more to say." And on his face at that moment: calculation and displeasure, because he still has a Metatron to thwart and it's looking like he'll have to do it alone.

Only Crowley has more to say, about the absence of nightingales and us-es. And Aziraphale's face is all are you fucking kidding me with this shit? Aziraphale still has a Metatron to thwart, and if Crowley won't help, the least he can do is get out of the way, as Aziraphale made him do in their earlier argument over helping Jimbriel.

He looks away, giving Crowley the chance to jump him, haul him in by the lapels, and kiss him. Because that's the conversation Crowley's been having all along.

If I'm Aziraphale in this moment, my brain is exploding in several directions. I have a Metatron to thwart. He's watching this drama from across the street. What is he thinking, and how do I deal with him now? I don't have Crowley's help to thwart him. With that in mind, do I accept or refuse the job offer? I have finally figured out the urgency of the conversation Crowley thought we were having. I'm so terribly sorry I didn't make any gestures toward that conversation, because -- Crowley is actually kissing me, there aren't enough WTFs in the entire history of the entire universe for this!

No wonder his hands are tentative. No wonder the camera doesn't let us see much of his face; the above is a lot to convey for even the mega-ultra-talented Master of Microexpressions Michael Sheen.

Aziraphale, shocked and irked and scared and brain-exploded and feeling new things, tries kayfabe (mixed with truth; he is direly irked at Crowley's obtuseness) one last time: "I forgive you." Surely this time Crowley's got to --

But no. Still no uptake. Crowley leaves. Fiasco complete.

Next post will be the last: The Aftermath. Plus some comment on this as, in my view, the most parsimonious and narratively accommodating read on the scene, ergo (again, in my view) the likeliest.

#gos2spoilers #gos2 spoilers #good omens season 2 spoilers #the fucking metatron #the final fifteen minutes #good omens meta #good omens #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands

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phoen1xr0se · 8 months

Text

Good Omens S2E6 - Aziraphale's perspective

Taken from my fanfic 'Don't Fall Away From Me', on AO3 (link below). Apologies for any broken hearts in advance, but I hope it fixes some too. Most of the dialogue is taken from GOS2E6 but everything else is all me.

Artist credit: @mistysblueboxstuff

Aziraphale

Forty-one days earlier.

"Go on. The day can't get any weirder."

Aziraphale swallowed, turning to exit the bookshop, coffee in hand. The last thing he wanted right now was to leave Crowley's side and the sanctity of their little world - he knew that the significance of what they had just witnessed between Gabriel and Beelzebub would not be lost on the demon, and he desperately wanted to talk about it with him. When Aziraphale had intuitively reached for him, he was sure he had seen Crowley give a small nod, as if to say, "I know, angel."

The thought that he might finally give a voice to what they had been dancing around for years made him feel as though he was in a freefall - Aziraphale took a long swig from the sweet almond coffee to try and ground himself and glanced back at the Metatron.

"Sit, sit, dear boy," said Metatron, gesturing to a small table and chairs.

Aziraphale sat, hands fluttering anxiously. He put them back on the coffee to stop himself and took another sip.

"Now, I shall get right to the point. It seems we are down an Archangel." The Metatron smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Do you have any thoughts on who might be best suited to replace them?"

Aziraphale paused. Why was the Metatron asking him for advice? "Well... Michael?"

"Oh, don't be silly! No, no, no, no, no. There's only one candidate who makes even the slightest bit of sense."

Aziraphale raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"And that's you."

Aziraphale blinked. Had he heard that correctly? "Me?"

"Well, yes. You're a leader, you're honest, you don't just tell people what they want to hear. It's why Gabriel came to you in the first place, I imagine."

Aziraphale's mouth dropped open in astonishment, struggling for words. He had always believed that those qualities had contributed to his exile from Heaven, and yet the Metatron was telling him that these were reasons he should be... promoted? In charge? Surely there was no way that this offer could be genuine.

The Metatron continued, before Aziraphale had a chance to pick that thread apart. "There are huge plans afoot, enormous projects, and I will need you to run them."

Aziraphale paused. In a flash, he remembered what Crowley had said four years previously about The Big One. Us against humanity. Left in the hands of Michael, or Uriel, or any of those bad angels, he could only begin to imagine what would befall Earth. Humanity wouldn't stand a chance. The angels didn't understand anything about what it truly meant to be human... or even what it meant to be good.

"You are just the angel for the job." The Metatron smiled, and in spite of himself, Aziraphale thought that he was probably right about that.

But no... he couldn't leave Earth. His bookshop. Crowley. This peaceful, fragile existence. "But I... I don't want to go back to Heaven. W-where would I get my coffee?"

The Metatron's eyes grew steelier and Aziraphale realised that he understood that this wasn't about coffee. He shifted in his seat, uncomfortably. How much did he know?

"You know..." Metatron phrased the words very carefully, "as Supreme Archangel, you would be able to decide who to work with. I've been looking back over a number of your previous exploits..." Aziraphale swallowed nervously, "and I see that in quite a few of them you formed a de facto partnership with the demon, Crowley."

The name hung in the air between them. Aziraphale glanced away. Apparently he knew quite a lot.

"Now, if you wanted to work with him again, that... might be considered irregular, but it would certainly be within your jurisdiction to restore your friend Crowley to full angelic status."

The impact of the statement took a while to register. Aziraphale blinked. In his mind's eye, he flashed back to the first time he had ever interacted with the angel-that-had-been-Crowley. It was at the creation of the universe, and he recalled with a pang the joy on his face, the sheer exuberance and excitement that had left a lasting impression on the more junior angel. Crowley as an angel had been magical, magnificent to behold. And Aziraphale knew better than anyone that Crowley had never deserved to Fall. Crowley had no memories of his time spent as an angel, but Aziraphale remembered. He remembered it all.

He was so lost in thought that he missed the triumphant glint in the Metatron's eyes.

"I... well, I don't quite know what to say," began Aziraphale, but Metatron held up a finger to halt him.

"It's just an option. One of many powers you will have as Supreme Archangel. A word to the wise, though..." Metatron leaned in conspiratorially. "There has been some talk that this partnership is all simply a part of Hell's... how shall we put it... long game."

Aziraphale was lost. "What do you mean?"

"Well there is a rumour that Hell assigned some specific demons to tempt angels away from Heaven..." Metatron paused, choosing his phrasing with care. "I personally didn't believe it myself until the utter disaster with Gabriel. Quite a shock, I can tell you. I never thought Gabriel would be vulnerable to demonic influences, but I suppose you never can tell..."

Aziraphale inhaled sharply. "I can assure you -" he began, but the Metatron interrupted.

"Oh, my dear boy, I am certain that you would never fall prey to a demon's wiles. You are far too intelligent for that." The Metatron looked Aziraphale coolly in the eyes, but there was a question there. A question Aziraphale didn't want to examine too closely. He looked down at the coffee in his hands, and recalled the night he and Crowley had spent in Job's basement.

Are you... trying to tempt me?

Not at all, angels can't be tempted, can you?

The taste of those ox ribs. The way once he'd tasted it, he'd realised he was so hungry, not just hungry, but ravenous. Starved.

Aziraphale pushed the thought away, but as soon as he pushed it away, another thought barrelled in to take its place. The first time Crowley had convinced him to try wine, promising him that a drop wouldn't hurt. The first gift he had ever been given, a book, his first material Earthly possession, gifted to him by Crowley. The way Crowley had convinced him that there was no point in doing Good if they were always cancelling each other out. The way Aziraphale had done so many small, little, bad things because Crowley had assured him it didn't matter. Each memory was like a gut punch.

But no.

No.

He knew Crowley. Yes, he was a demon, but he wasn't bad. At least, not all bad.

"I believe you are quite wrong," stated Aziraphale boldly, sitting up straight. "The demon Crowley has, over the many years we have spent... I mean, over the time we have known one another, done many kind and Good things. He is better than half the angels I know! Michael, Uriel, Sandalphon, they don't have half his compassion, his honesty, his bravery. I believe God was mistaken in..." Aziraphale's brave defence faltered as Metatron's eyebrows raised. "I mean, I think sometimes people deserve a second chance."

Metatron nodded. "Perhaps it is as you say." He stood, and Aziraphale followed suit.

Aziraphale glanced back at the bookshop. All he wanted now was to get back to Crowley. He knew that talking with him would alleviate these fears. Crowley might not want to go to Heaven, but surely he would see that it was the safest place for them to be? Especially if their fears about The Big One were correct? In spite of everything Crowley felt about Heaven, he was certain that Crowley would see it was the only way they could save the world they had both come to cherish. And perhaps he'd see a glimmer of that happy angel he'd known so long ago... before Aziraphale had put thoughts into his head, thoughts that had ultimately led to...

Aziraphale shook the thoughts away.

"Uh, thank you for this... chat... I really had better get back to the bookshop," Aziraphale said delicately.

"Well, you don't have to answer immediately," said the Metatron, "Take all the time you need."

His expression, however, demanded urgency.

"I... I don't know what to say," Aziraphale faltered. He needed Crowley. He couldn't make this decision without him.

"Well then, go and tell your friend the good news," said the Metatron measuredly. Good news.

Would Crowley see it that way?

Aziraphale very much doubted it. As he crossed the street, he resolved that he was going to hard-sell Heaven to Crowley no matter what. Above everything else, he wanted Crowley to be safe. He wanted humanity to be safe. And the only way that was going to happen is if he had a voice. He exhaled, steeling himself for what he knew was going to be a very difficult pitch.

The bell tinkled as he entered, and he saw Maggie and Nina walking toward the exit. "We're just going," smiled Maggie. "I'm sure you two have a lot to say," Nina added, and they exited.

Aziraphale took another deep breath as his eyes fell on Crowley. Crowley was sat in his usual chair, leaning forward with his dark glasses on, his mouth hanging open as if in surprise. He thought, with a sudden rush of feelings, how accustomed he had become to seeing the demon here, and how comfortable Crowley had made himself here. These days he almost always took his glasses off around the shop, a level of vulnerability Crowley had only recently managed in the last year or so.

Crowley, noticing Aziraphale, suddenly stood, removing his glasses. Aziraphale felt his resolve soften as he looked into the demon's wide yellow eyes with their trademark snakelike slits. Yellow really was the most beautiful colour. He was so busy staring that he didn't even realise Crowley had begun to speak.

"Look, I suppose, um... I've got something to say. I know we ought to be talking about... uh, it's probably best if I start off doing all the talking, you do all the listening, 'cause if I don't start talking now, I won't ever start talking, right? Yes, so -"

Aziraphale barely heard a word of what the demon was saying. This wasn't uncommon when Crowley was around, Aziraphale did have a tendency to get a little distracted - but this time it was because he was desperately trying to think of the right arrangement of words that would help Crowley adjust to what he was about to hear.

"What's that lovely human expression?" interjected Aziraphale, flailing his arms wildly. He was feeling giddy. "Oh yes, hold that thought!" He pasted on a wide grin. Sell it, sell it, he told himself. "You see, I have some incredibly good news to give you!"

Crowley didn't look particularly pleased so far. "Really?"

"I, um... so, uh, um..." Aziraphale's arms were still doing most of the talking for him whilst he frantically tried to explain. "The Metatron, you know, I don't think he's as bad a fellow... Well, I think I might have misjudged him. You see, I... Well, he said, um..." Aziraphale noticed Crowley's expression darken with mistrust. Oops. Go bigger. "He said that Gabriel, obviously hadn't worked out..." Aziraphale laughed nervously, "as Supreme Archangel and Commander of the Heavenly Host, and he asked who I thought should take over in Heaven now that Gabriel was gone. And I said Michael, to which he laughed, and said there was only one candidate who made the slightest bit of sense. Me."

Crowley's face was frozen. It was hard to assess how he was taking this. "And I said, 'me?' And he said that I was a leader, honest, I didn't tell people what they wanted to hear and that they needed me. Of course I was surprised - I mean, obviously - and of course I said I didn't want to go, because... well... but then..." Aziraphale paused and took a step closer to Crowley, his entire face lighting up. "He said that if I was Archangel, I could restore you to be an angel. Full angelic status."

A beat. "He said what?"

"He said I could appoint you to be an angel." Aziraphale couldn't help beaming. Crowley deserved to be restored, deserved it more than anyone, in spite of everything Metatron had said, he knew that Crowley should never have Fallen. "You could come back to Heaven and... and everything. Like the old times. Only even nicer."

Aziraphale's smile lit up the room as Crowley held his gaze. "Right. And you told him just where he could stick it, then?"

Aziraphale's smile faltered. What had gone wrong? "Not at all..."

Crowley shook his head slowly. "Oh, we're better than that, you're better than that, angel! You don't need them, I certainly don't need them!" Crowley began pacing, avoiding Aziraphale's gaze. "Look, they asked me back to Hell, I said no, I'm not rejoining their team, neither should you!" His yellow eyes met Aziraphale's again and they were awash with confusion.

Aziraphale fumbled. "But.. well, obviously you said no to Hell, you're the bad guys." He saw Crowley's face change. Whoops. He should have said THEY are the bad guys. Crowley was anything but bad, and that was precisely the point he was trying to make. "But Heaven... Well, it's the side of Truth, of Light... of Good." And that's why you belong there.

"When Heaven ends life here on Earth, it'll be just as dead as if Hell ended it," growled Crowley.

Aziraphale was flustered now - this hadn't gone how he thought it would, at all.

"Tell me you said no," Crowley begged. Aziraphale looked away, avoiding the way Crowley's body broke a little as he stepped forward into the silence. His voice when it came out was devoid of all his usual venom. It was almost soft, pleading. "Tell me you said no."

"If... I'm in charge, I can make a difference," Aziraphale said. It sounded so lame and contrite given the weight of the conversation, but he really meant it. The angel had endured so much loss that he had been unable to control, so many of God's choices he had been unable to question or challenge. How many times had he had to sit back and endure human tragedies at the hand of God, wrestling with himself to try and believe that it was for the Greater Good but never understanding why. This was his opportunity to finally understand God's will - and perhaps even try to alter it.

Crowley sighed deeply and began pacing again. "Oh... Oh, God." He gulped. "Right, okay. Right. I didn't get a chance to say what I was going to say, I think I'd better say it now. Right. Okay. Yes. So." Crowley sighed, and Aziraphale noticed that the demon was almost imperceptibly shaking.

The energy in the room shifted instantly. Aziraphale instantly knew that whatever Crowley was about to say was going to change things. Permanently.

"We've known each other a long time."

This was it.

"We've been on this planet a long time. I mean, you and me."

He wasn't ready.

"I could always rely on you. You could always rely on me."

How long had he waited to hear these words? Words he was sure would never come. Crowley never spoke like this, not ever. Aziraphale's eyes flicked to the street where he could see the Metatron standing by Muriel and he shifted uneasily.

"We're a team. A group. A group of the two of us."

Aziraphale's blue eyes widened. This was really happening.

"And we've spent our existence pretending that we aren't." Crowley's voice cracked.

Aziraphale's mouth struggled to find words, but no sound came out. Crowley hadn't looked away from him once, but broke their gaze now.

"I mean, the last few years, not really." Crowley looked around the bookshop and Aziraphale knew that they were both thinking of the last four years they had spent together on Earth. No longer having to pretend to be on opposite sides. No longer having to deny their affection for one another. It had still been unspoken, but it had been allowed. They had allowed a life to grow, here.

"And I would like to spend -" Crowley began, but as his eyes met the angel's, he choked on the words. He looked away again, growled, exhaled, then regained his composure, whilst Aziraphale stared at the demon as though he were a freight train coming straight at him. Was Crowley really trying to say what he thought he was trying to say?

"I mean, if Gabriel and Beelzebub can do it, go off together, then we can." Crowley's voice was desperate, pleading. Aziraphale had never seen Crowley like this before.

It scared him.

Crowley was always the strong one, always the brave one, always coming to his rescue. Despite knowing the demon had a softer side, Aziraphale had come to rely on the demon's hard exterior. You always knew where you stood. Except now, he really didn't.

"Just the two of us. We don't need Heaven, we don't need Hell, they're toxic! We need to get away from them, just be an us."

An us.

In all honesty, they had been an us for quite some time now, and they both knew it. It was just one of those things they didn't say. Except all of a sudden Crowley had changed the rules and Aziraphale didn't know what his part was in this new dynamic. He felt lost. All he knew, all he had ever known, and all he had ever tried to do, was the Right Thing.

"You and me, what do you say?" finished Crowley, his eyes wide. Pleading. Hoping.

An eternity seemed to pass as Aziraphale stared into Crowley's open, hopeful face. He reminded him then of the angel he had been. It reminded Aziraphale again of what they had both lost, and what stood to be lost now. And even though Aziraphale had dreamed of this moment many times, in many ways, over many years - and in no version of his imaginings had he ever rejected the demon's affections - he knew that he could never place his own selfish wants over what was right. He wouldn't be able to live with himself.

"Come with me," he implored, stepping closer to Crowley, his blue eyes begging the demon to see reason. "To Heaven. I'll run it, you can be my second in command. We can make a difference."

Crowley looked stunned. "You can't leave this bookshop."

Aziraphale almost laughed. How could Crowley be thinking about the bookshop at a time like this? Humanity was at stake, for crying out loud! If they remained here on Earth and let Heaven and Hell wage their wars, there wouldn't be much of anything left, let alone a bookshop. The existence Crowley wanted wouldn't even be possible.

"Oh Crowley," Aziraphale said softly. "Nothing lasts forever."

Crowley's entire demeanour changed. He wilted, and with horror Aziraphale saw tears glisten in his beautiful yellow eyes. Crowley's face, that had moments ago been so expressive and open, turned to its usual impassive state. "No," said Crowley quietly, blinking and looking away. "No, I don't suppose it does." He put his dark glasses on, and Aziraphale realised that Crowley had read something into his words that he hadn't meant. "Good luck," he said flatly, and walked past Aziraphale to the exit.

Aziraphale felt the world drop out from beneath his feet. "Good luck? Crowley!"

He watched his demon pause, momentarily, then turn around. He knew he had to say something to convince Crowley to stay. He knew trying to convince Crowley it would be a good idea to go to Heaven would be tricky, but he knew that Crowley was at heart a GOOD person. He had to appeal to that.

"Crowley, come back! To Heaven! Work with me!" He saw Crowley's deadpan face and realised, with some shame, that he hadn't truly responded to any of the wonderful things Crowley had tried to say to him. Crowley had dropped his defences and tried to redefine their relationship and Aziraphale found himself unexpectedly unable to reciprocate. The words just wouldn't come. He gulped, now, examining his own feelings.

Did he care for Crowley?

Yes.

Did he love Crowley?

Yes.

Did he want to spend his existence with Crowley?

Yes.

But did he feel deep shame and guilt for loving him, a demon?

Also, yes.

Aziraphale tried. "We can be together!" he clasped his hands together, as if trying to press together what he wanted and what was right. "Angels! Doing good!"

Crowley wouldn't even look at him.

The feeling of the Earth falling away came back to him. He was really about to lose Crowley. "I - I need you!"

Crowley looked at him then. They were both remembering the many times they had protested quite the opposite over the years. Crowley looked unimpressed.

Aziraphale felt his whole body burn with frustration - he was offering Crowley a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity here. Fallen angels never came back to Heaven, not ever. And he knew Crowley deserved to be there. He wanted to undo the mistake he had made all those millennia ago, the guilty truth he had never forgiven himself for. He swallowed back a lump in his throat as he recalled the last moments before Crowley fell, how the angel had sought out Aziraphale's face in the crowds, his eyes wide and wild, hopeful and scared - and how Aziraphale had looked away. This was his chance to put Crowley back where he belonged. "I don't think you understand what I'm offering you."

"I understand," said Crowley flatly. "I think I understand a whole lot better than you do."

And that was the moment Aziraphale knew he'd lost him.

The world fell away, for good. Somehow he stayed standing. "Well... then there's nothing more to say."

Crowley was only two feet away but it felt like miles. And soon the distance would be a lot further.

"Listen," said Crowley, pointing up. "Do you hear that?"

Aziraphale barely heard him over the sound of his own panicked thoughts. "I... I don't hear anything," he said, unable to keep the frustration from his voice.

"That's the point," said Crowley, his words dripping with emotion. "No nightingales."

At the mention of nightingales, something hardened in Aziraphale. More unspoken understandings between them. The song 'A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square' had been playing on the night their life together began, the night they were freed from the confines of pretending they were on opposite sides. Neither of them had ever mentioned it, but Aziraphale knew it was a song that signified their relationship, their partnership, their freedom. No more nightingales meant no more them. Crowley was saying, in his own way, in the cruellest way, that they were over.

He saw something like satisfaction in Crowley's face as he realised the hit had landed. "You idiot," continued Crowley, frustration etched on every line of his face. "We could've been... us."

Aziraphale was the one to turn away now, hiding tears that had betrayed his resolve. Did Crowley think he didn't know what he was giving up? All he had ever wanted... but not at the cost of life on Earth. He couldn't bear to watch his demon leave, to walk away forever, if he looked at him a moment longer he knew he wouldn't be able to go through with it.

He heard footsteps, and closed his eyes, not wanting to see Crowley leaving - but instead felt a rough tug at his lapels, and before he knew it, he felt Crowley's lips on his. The shock reverberated through his entire body and his instinctive reaction was to pull away, no, I can't, I can't he thought desperately... but the warmth of Crowley's lips, the feeling of his body so close, the fact that it had taken six thousand years to finally close the gap between them, it was impossible to resist. It felt so good, to finally be... us. Despite himself, Aziraphale's hands stopped fluttering, and he pulled Crowley closer, giving in to the temptation.

The temptation.

Aziraphale's hands flew off the demon.

Hell assigned some specific demons to tempt angels away from Heaven...

Crowley let go of Aziraphale and Aziraphale gasped, overcome with a torrent of emotions. He hadn't known he'd wanted this until the feel of Crowley's lips pressing into his. It had taken a moment but the craving it had awoken in him raged through his body, a betrayal against all that he tried so hard to be. It felt exactly like that night in Job's basement, all those years ago... He wanted Crowley. His entire being ached to close the space between them again. He wanted so badly to forget all about the Metatron, Heaven, Hell, everything, and just throw himself back into Crowley's arms. But he'd been tempted, hadn't he? The serpent did what he does best, what he does so well, so slyly, what he's done for thousands of years... Aziraphale felt something inside him break, deeply, as he realised that, regardless of whether or not Hell was behind it, he had been tempted, and failed to pass the test yet again.

Aziraphale felt a cold, righteous anger sweep over him.

Crowley was staring at him expectantly. What did he expect? A declaration of love after having completely manipulated the angel's feelings?

I won't let you have the satisfaction of knowing how much you tempted me. How much you hurt me.

"I... I forgive you," Aziraphale said unsteadily, clenching his jaw in resolve. He regretted it the moment he said it.

Crowley sighed, a deep sigh. "Don't bother."

With that, the demon turned and finally left the bookshop.

Crumbling, Aziraphale let the tears come. He lifted his fingers to his lips, allowing himself for just a moment to remember what it felt like. He had never been kissed before, he had always thought it a peculiar human oddity, to press their faces together to show affection - he had not expected it to feel warm, to feel intimate, to feel like they were communicating in ways that could never be put into words. It was... magical.

But then he remembered who he was. Or at least, who he was supposed to be. Not an angel in love with a demon. An angel who did The Right Thing. An angel like that does not get tempted away from doing The Right Thing. If he was going to be Supreme Archangel, he had to be THAT version of himself.

He wiped the kiss away from his lips with vehemence. He would not allow himself to think about it, or Crowley, anymore.

Because if I did, I would run back to you...

As Aziraphale struggled to regain control of his emotions, the bell tinkled, and for a moment, one glorious moment, Aziraphale thought it was Crowley coming back to straighten everything out. Turning, he felt his hope fade as he saw the Metatron striding in. Quickly turning away to wipe the tears that threatened to fall and betray his emotion, he gave himself a quick talking to. This was no time for weakness.

"Well? How did he take it?"

Aziraphale said, truthfully, "Uh... not well." He chuckled nervously. He didn't want the Metatron to interfere with Crowley. He knew he needed to be careful about what he said.

"Ah, well, always did want to go his own way," said the Metatron dismissively.

Aziraphale stole a glance outside the bookshop and saw Crowley standing by the Bentley.

"Always asking damn fool questions, too," said the Metatron. Aziraphale recognised that this comment was a disguised warning to himself - don't ask questions. "Right, ready to start?"

Aziraphale felt his heart lurch. Hadn't the Metatron said he had plenty of time to decide? "I..." He glanced once again at the tall, dark figure standing outside. Crowley was stood completely still, watching Aziraphale from the street. Waiting? "My bookshop!" stammered Aziraphale desperately, trying to think of a way to give himself a little more time.

"Ye-es, well, for now, I've entrusted it to Muriel," said the Metatron matter-of-factly, indicating the young angel who waved exuberantly from the window. "So it should be in good hands."

"But..." Aziraphale stared out at the street. At him.

"Anything you need to take with you?" asked the Metatron.

Him, thought Aziraphale. Just him.

The Metatron's energy was cold, and forceful. Aziraphale could feel it coming off him in waves. He knew, somehow, that he had been backed into a corner. "No... nothing I can think of."

The Metatron made an affirmative noise and made to move towards the door, and it all suddenly hit Aziraphale - if he went with the Metatron now, it would really be over. No more cosy bookshop, no more books. No more sushi, no more sherry. No more music, no more plays. No more nightingales. A flash of what returning to Heaven would actually mean suddenly cut through Aziraphale and he understood, finally, what Crowley had been trying to tell him. There would be no going back.

Overcome, he rushed forward. "I think I -" he burst out, but stopped himself.

For once in your soft, silly life, do the Right Thing, angel! Aziraphale told himself sternly. This is about more than you and... him. He took one last look at Crowley. Leaning against the car on the street outside, the demon hadn't moved an inch, his dark-shaded eyes fixated on the inside of the bookshop.

"Nothing at all," said Aziraphale, straightening himself up and exiting the shop, plastering a fake smile on his face.

The street was busy, and Aziraphale could feel a pair of snakelike eyes burning into the back of his head but he wasn't going to look. If he looked, he'd run...

As they approached the entrance to the elevator that would take him to his new job, Metatron smiled at Aziraphale in a way that was intended to be reassuring but sent chills down Aziraphale's spine. "Well, I can't think of a better Angel to wrap things up, and to set into motion the next step in the Great Plan."

Aziraphale started. This was why he'd taken the job. This is why he'd forsaken everything he'd ever wanted. "Um, yes, you mentioned that. Can I know... what it is?"

"Well, it's something we need an angel of your talents to direct. An angel who is familiar with how they do things on Earth."

Aziraphale felt himself relax somewhat. Perhaps he had been mistaken and Heaven really was beginning to consider the merits of humanity. He began to smile.

The Metatron turned as the elevator doors opened. "We call it the second coming."

Aziraphale's face dropped its smile, now stricken with panic and fear. The second coming wasn't a fluffy visit from Jesus as most people believed... the second coming meant Judgement Day, when all of humanity would be judged and those found wanting would be thrown into Hellfire. The world, as they knew it, would be over.

The Metatron turned and looked at Aziraphale with steely eyes. Aziraphale felt as though the being could see into his innermost thoughts and tried to rearrange his expression. He looked away... to his left, the tall, dark figure of Crowley still leaned against the car. Definitely waiting. Aziraphale realised Crowley was holding on to the hope that at the last moment, Aziraphale would change his mind and choose their life on Earth.

But what will that be worth if we end up with no Earth left to live on, my dear?

It took every bit of strength Aziraphale had ever had to tear his eyes, his heart, his everything, away from the life he could have had and walk into that elevator. He sighed, inwardly letting go of it all. As he entered, it almost felt as though every step was being taken by someone else, and the smile on his face was a ghost of himself. He was so focused on appearing normal that he didn't notice the Metatron's sigh of relief and smile of victory as the doors slid closed.

"Going up," said the disembodied voice, and they began to move up towards Heaven. Every second that passed, Aziraphale felt his anxiety rise.

The second coming.

Judgement Day.

What had he done? How on Earth could he possibly circumnavigate this? And on his own? Without...

With another pang, Aziraphale realised that Crowley would be Judged just like everybody else. He knew in his heart that Crowley wasn't completely bad, but he had always been under the impression that Judgement Day was very black-and-white when it came to who was deemed righteous and who was not. He could lose him. He could lose everyone - and this time, it would be all his fault. No chance to shrug and complain that someone else had the power this time.

What could he do? What could he actually do?

As the elevator continued to take them higher and higher, Aziraphale racked his brains, and Crowley's words suddenly sprang into his mind. "Just to be able to ask the questions..."

Slowly, a plan began to form in his mind.

A plan that would begin... with a suggestion box.

Aziraphale smiled.

Please visit me on AO3 and leave feedback! 🤍

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kerryweaverlesbian · 4 months

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I want destiel with 13 or 22 (the prompts you reblogged)

Take it easy, with me please, touch me gently, like a summer evening breeze

"You know what this mix is called, Cas?" Dean murmers, pressing his forehead to the side of Castiel's and changing their sway to match the new rhythm.

They've been dancing alone in the kitchen, slow and close, for something like half an hour, and these are the first words either of them have spoken since Dean pulled Cas in. On one side their hands are tangled loosely together, and on the other their arms cross over at their waists, keeping them both pressed together, chest to chest.

"No," Cas says, playing along. They both knew the tape had already been in the stereo when Dean had reached out and pressed play. It wasn't one Cas recognised; all slow, a lot of crooning women.

"It's called, 'For Cas, if we win'. I made it while you were gone." Dean's breath warms the tip of Cas’s ear, and his meaning warms him everywhere else.

"Was there an 'if we lose'?"

Dean shifts his head back to look Cas in the eye. "No. I was never going to happen."

Andante, andante, just let the feeling grow.

Enchanted by the devotion in Dean's eyes, he's caught of guard by his sudden, amused smile. He understands when Dean sings along, sotto voce, "Touch my soul, you know how. Forgot that was coming."

"You've touched mine, now," Cas reminds him, "Or, the closest thing I have to one."

That's how he'd gotten out of the Empty, Dean cradling his Grace to his chest and then fighting his way back through miles of black, sucking sludge, beset by angels, demons and the Empty's own power as he went. The place had been a lot more active since the last time Cas had been stuck there, but no less bleak. There had only been a chance for Dean to finally choke out an, "I love you too, you fucking idiot," when they'd collapsed back out through the portal before he'd fallen asleep for 15 hours straight.

"Your hands were very gentle," Cas notes, and he can feel Dean's face heat as he moves them cheek to cheek, an endearing and unsuccessful attempt to hide his blush. "I felt very secure."

"I didn't want to drop you," Dean admits at a mumble, then complains, "You were freaking slippery, man."

"My apologies," Cas teases, and Dean knocks him with his hip in playful retaliation. "If it helps, you fought me all the way from Hell to your gravesite."

"Sounds like me," Dean says, with a prideful grin that Cas can hear in his voice.

I'm your music. I'm your song.

"Yes. Had I known then how you would change me, I might have held you even tigher."

"Or you might have let go, save yourself the trouble," Dean quips, but there's a fragility to it that has Cas stop the dance and take Dean's cheek in his palm, guiding him to look at him.

Play me time and time again, and make me strong.

"I wouldn't trade the life that we have built for anything. All the time that I have loved you has been-" Cas can't help the tears starting to catch at his voice - "Has been the best of my existence."

Dean's welling up along with him. Perhaps they will both cry every time he tells Dean he loves him. A very small price to pay, in comparison.

"Cas," Dean says in a rasp, and knocks their foreheads together gently. Two teardrops fall from Dean's eyes to Cas’s cheeks with the movement.

Andante, andante, tread lightly on my ground.

No matter who moved in for the kiss, they both lean into it, careful and soft and everything they haven't managed to be with each other until this point. The passion shared between them is palpable, even as the kiss remains relatively chaste. There's no finish line to run to, anymore. No Apocalypse to beat. They have the time to dance together, just as slowly as they please.

Andante, andante, oh please don't let me down.

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itsyourvalerie · 2 months

Note

Hello! I know not a lot of people like him because yk but may I request a Valentino x Female Reader romance?

Like basically the hazbin hotel crew was figuring out how to get Angel Dust out of his contract with Valentino and they decide to go to Reader because Angel said that shes the most cooperating vee-

So reader is one of the vees and is a dance choreographer and owns the souls of her dancers

And while the hazbin crew is on their way to her studio they don't know that the three other vees are there watching the reader teaching her dancers

Yeah the crew got there and Angel spotted the vees there so the crew tried not to get noticed and eventually saw the reader just dancing with demons behind her trying to copy her

They overheard the vees conversation and just Valentino worshipping the reader and the crew is just shocked of Valentino's relationship with the reader, pretty please 😇🤗

Also Val and Reader are in a relationship :p

Thank youu! ❤

HI MY LOVE!! im so sorry this request took so long i have been thinking how to put it together and i still don't quite like the way it came out and im sorry if its not what you imagined. Hope you like it tho ❤️

---

Valentino x female reader

warnings: none

---

As the Hazbin Hotel crew (minus alastor, because he could care less) ventured through the bustling streets of Hell, their mission weighed heavily on their minds. They were determined to free Angel Dust from his nefarious contract with Valentino, and they knew that their best chance lay with y/n, one of the notorious "Vees" known for her cooperation with the underworld's elite.

Unknown to them, y/n was not only a Vee but also a dance choreographer, revered for her captivating performances and owning the souls of her loyal dancers. As they approached her studio, they were unaware of the presence of the other Vees lurking in the shadows.

Inside the studio, y/n stood at the center of the room, her graceful movements commanding the attention of her demonic dancers.

As Angel Dust spotted the other Vees observing from the sidelines, a wave of apprehension washed over him. He signaled this friends to keep quiet, not wanting to draw attention to their presence.

They watched in silence as y/n danced, her movements fluid and mesmerizing. But their focus soon shifted as they overheard the Vees' conversation, filled with unsettling praises and worshipping of y/n by none other than Valentino himself.

"Isn't she divine?" Vox whispered eagerly, his eyes gleaming with admiration as he stared at the dancing female.

Valentino's voice cut through the air like a sinister whisper, a smirk on his face and a cigarette between his two fingers, his tone laced with reverence. "She's a masterpiece, a true gem of Hell. I've never seen anything quite like her." He praised.

Shock and disbelief washed over Angel and everyone else (even Vox and Velvette) as they listened to Valentino's twisted admiration for y/n, realizing the extent of his influence over her and the dangerous game she was unwittingly playing.

As the vees continued their conversation, discussing the power and prestige that came with being in y/n's favor, the Hazbin crew exchanged worried glances. They knew they had to tread carefully if they were to stand any chance of freeing Angel Dust from Valentino's grasp, now that y/n was in the game.

But amidst the chaos and deception, one thing became clear: y/n was not just a vee caught in Valentino's web—she was a key player in the intricate dance of power and manipulation that defined life in Hell. And if the crew wanted to free Angel Dust from his contract, they would need to navigate this treacherous dance with caution and cunning. Which meant to get y/n's help as soon as possible.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x oc #valentino hazbin hotel #valentino x reader #Valentino hazbin hotel x reader #valentino #valentino x you #hazbin hotel x female reader

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fellthemarvelous · 6 months

Text

Warning: I use sarcasm when making points.

I have things to say. (And I'm going to be extremely snarky while saying them.)

Y'all, I love Crowley just as much as anyone else, but the way some people think that defending Crowley means it's necessary to villainize Aziraphale is just gross.

Yeah, Crowley is super easy to sympathize with. We all care about him.

But like...some of these Aziraphale hate takes are insane. (And no, haters, I don't actually want to hear from you unless you want to give me even more fodder to work with.)

"Aziraphale shows compassion for everyone except Crowley." (Actual footage from the very first episode, just to name one example, but okay. I guess sheltering someone who was supposed to be his mortal enemy under his wing was a senseless act of cruelty.)

"Aziraphale doesn't love Crowley." (Wait, I totally utilize my heart eyes for people I don't love too!!)

"Aziraphale has never actually trusted Crowley." (They only helped save the world together though. Weird. And then there was that time in 1941 where he trusted that Crowley wouldn't shoot him in the face while their miracles weren't working.)

"Even in second season when Crowley says "I'm a demon, I lied" Aziraphale doesn't think of Crowley's pain, he was busy being sad for himself. Before this Aziraphale even says "I'm like you now" as if being demon is worse thing than killing innocent children and animals." (Whatever the hell this is.)

This one is just really special. Congratulations on walking into the point and somehow missing it at the same time? That's exactly what makes the system so fucked up in the first place and why Crowley doesn't tell anyone that Aziraphale lied to Heaven. This moment wasn't about Crowley. It was about Aziraphale. Crowley knows the pain and trauma that comes with falling and he doesn't want Aziraphale to experience that?? Aziraphale is allowed to be scared and sad because like, I don't know if you know this, but when you've been indoctrinated into blind obedience, going against the grain is actually really fucking scary because the punishment is terrifying. This is why so many religious abuse survivors relate to Aziraphale?? Also, a demon like Hastur would have killed the animals and the children, so....

"I can not in my sane mind think that Crowley could ever trust Aziraphale with his trauma. He would never share anything that was done to him. Because chances are if he did, he would just be invalidated and belittled. Or worse, he would have been blamed even for it since he is a demon and that's what he deserves (which Crowley already believes to be true)." (What?!?!?!)

Aziraphale, most compassionate and kindest angel there is, would mock Crowley's pain? The same Aziraphale who has been mocked and abused (verbally, mentally and physically) by his superiors would turn around and do the same thing to Crowley when Crowley is the only one who has ever understood him? Aziraphale, the angel who gave the demons a chance to walk away from his bookshop without being hurt, would mock Crowley? Aziraphale, the same angel who had to sit there and listen to Shax mock him and belittle him relentlessly while he protected Jimbriel, would invalidate Crowley?

"Aziraphale only loves Crowley as an angel and not a demon." (Yeah, look how disgusted he is...planning a whole ball just so he could hold hands and dance with his demon. Eww.)

"When Crowley asks for the holy water instead of asking for why he needed something that was so dangerous he immediately jumps to conclusions and then hurts Crowley even more."

I mean other than the fact that we saw what happened to Ligur in season one when he got doused with the holy water, I can't imagine why Aziraphale would be so hesitant to hand something like that over to the love of his life. And he finally did hand it over, knowing he would never be able to forgive himself if Crowley did use it to end his own existence. Not to mention that Hell actually did plan to kill Crowley with holy water at the end of season 1. I would totally jump at the chance to give someone I love something incredibly dangerous to them, but I guess I'm built differently. 🙃 And who cares about Aziraphale's feelings on the subject anyway, am I right?

"Crowley has no reason to trust Aziraphale." (I know right? Aside from the time Aziraphale gave him the holy water even though it scared him or the time he used a human magic trick to save Crowley from having to go back to Hell again or the time he protected Crowley's identity by playing along with Bildad the Shuhite so Heaven wouldn't know he was actually a demon or all the times Aziraphale has offered Crowley sanctuary in his bookshop or when they performed their half miracle together or when they literally swapped bodies.)

"Aziraphale chose Heaven over Crowley because he thinks Crowley is beneath him." (I mean he sacrificed his own happiness to go back to Heaven too, but why bother exploring that when we can all just hate Aziraphale for doing what he thinks is the right thing to do? What even are shades of grey?)

Like I get it. I do. Aziraphale leaving was very upsetting because we wanted to see the Ineffable Husbands get their happy ending. But whenever I see people talk about how rejected Crowley feels, like Aziraphale feels rejected too. You get that, right? And I'm not saying he was right for asking Crowley to go back and become an angel again, but he wants Crowley to be safe and he mistakenly believed it would be that easy.

Just because Aziraphale has a lot to learn doesn't mean he's wrong for going back. Just because Aziraphale has flaws doesn't mean he's bad. Crowley isn't the only one suffering and heartbroken.

And we all saw that the Metatron gave him no time to begin grieving over what just happened. Instead Aziraphale turned around, put a smile on his face that didn't reach his eyes, and stepped onto the elevator because he is going to try and make changes even if he has to do it all alone.

How would revolutions get started if people saw no point in trying to change things for the better?

I leaned into bitch mode in this post. It happens.

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #i used my sarcastic voice #and i will use it again if you try to come at this post with even more aziraphale hate #aziraphale defense squad #crowley would be really fucking unimpressed with the aziraphale hate too #i'm just saying #crowley would also be annoyed with being so woobified by aziraphale haters #and if you think my religious trauma fuels my annoyance you would be right

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things-arent-what-they-seem66 · 29 days

Note

9 and 14 adamsapple maybe? Idk if they fit together well or how you would do that but yeah

9. “…Damn it all to hell, if I don’t get to have you tonight then I’m never going to be able to have you.”

14. "Bet they don't make you sound like that."

Thank you! Enjoy :)

Content Warning: Sexually Suggestive

Lucifer sipped at his drink, he was seated in a booth at a club. His eyes were locked on a fallen angel who was having fun with the other hotel goers.

It had been months since Adam fell into Hell and became a sinner, he made a deal with the devil, quite literally, for protection against the demons that would want him dead. Lucifer always wondered what it would be like to own the first man's soul, to literally have him on a leash.

It was exhilarating.

But he wanted more than that. Not just Adams soul, but his heart and body as well. The king wanted to own every aspect of the sinner. Especially before someone else moved in on what was his.

He watched as some demon brought Adam over a shot. They clinked glasses and downed the liquid. They started dancing very close together. Too close for Lucifer's liking.

He growled and slammed his empty glass down. “…Damn it all to hell, if I don’t get to have you tonight then I’m never going to be able to have you.” He said mainly to himself as he got up and made his way over to Adam.

He froze when he saw the guy grab a hand full of Adams ass. Adam yelped, he rounded on the guy and punched him in the face. "Fuck off, asshole!" He heard Adam say before storming off.

That was his cue.

He followed Adam to the bathroom where he was gripping the sink, his face pinched in anger. Lucifer locked the door behind him once he deemed they were alone. "You okay?"

Adam snapped his head up, surprised to see Lucifer standing there. He scoffed, his guard going back up. "Like you care."

"If I didn't care, I wouldn't ask." He got closer to the sinner. "I saw what he did."

Adam looked away, he seemed embarrassed. "Yeah, so?"

"No one should touch you like that." Except for me, Lucifer added mentally.

"Yeah, well, a lot of people down here don't understand the word no." Adam crossed his arms looking angry again.

Lucifer advanced on him. "I do."

"Huh?" Adam questioned, then a gold chain and collar materialized and yanked him down to eye level with the king. Their faces a few mere centimeters apart.

"Do you want me to stop?" Adam shook his head no. "Good." Cause Lucifer really didn't want to. He would if Adam told him no, he wouldn't force him. He let the chain and collar disappear and pulled Adam in by cupping his face for a bruising kiss.

Adam returned the kiss placing his hands on Lucifer's shoulders. He felt himself being backed up until he hit a wall. He was slouched there to be level with the king. He half yelped when Lucifer's hands left his face and picked him up, his legs wrapping around him for support. Adam moaned when a hand firmly gripped his ass.

This was much more pleasant than the asshole that used it as a stress ball. "Bet they don't make you sound like that. They will never get the chance." Lucifer husked in Adams ear making him shiver. "What other beautiful sounds can I pull from you?" Lucifer purred.

Adam bit his lip. They were going to be here a while.

#adamsapple #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #lucifer x adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #ask

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batorchids-meadow · 4 months

Text

Happy New Year! Satan x GN!MC (Part 1)

Fluff, low social battery, cheesy confession, new years party

Constructive Criticism it welcome, hope you enjoy :)

I will most likely make a part 2 for this which is more on the smutty side, will be up once finished.

Word Count: 1.1k

Last year was, weird. Really fucking weird. I met nine demons, two angels and a sorcerer, the twelve of them slowly but surely becoming some of my closest friends, yet my mind always came back to one of them. A specific recluse. A lovely bookworm with a short temper, but I’ve found that his temper has improved over the time I spent with him during the exchange program. And when I came back and accidentally landed on him, he didn’t threaten to kill me like he would anyone else. In fact, he hugged me and said he was glad to see me alive and healthy. I’m glad I met him, and I'm glad that he’s the one I've grown closest with. We’d often have book nights in his room and sit in a comfortable silence with tea by our sides. Satan is something else. An angry personality with a soft spot for me. I'm really grateful for him. We were all at a new years party at the Demon Lord’s castle and I was hoping to dance with just the blondie of my dreams but, I never got the chance. Instead, I had Lord Diavolo, Lucifer, and Mammon all over me with Simeon and Solomon intervening at intervals they saw fit. I never had the chance to dance with him and that made me upset. My social battery had been at a rapid decline for most of the party, but he was here so I couldn’t just leave. Plus, Diavolo put his heart and soul into making this party enjoyable, even Levi was enjoying himself. Yet I was stood on a balcony gasping for fresh air as all I wanted was to go back to the house and spend a quiet evening with Satan by the fireplace in the library while we read, listening to the crackle of the fireplace on new years eve. But that wasn’t going to happen. At least not this year or right now. I wanted to leave, badly but I'm not allowed. Even if I did leave the castle, Lucifer has the house keys, and I don’t have the heart to beg him to let me leave. I heard footsteps coming towards me and if I was correct, Barbatos was about to ask me either: if I was okay or to come back inside and enjoy the party. Knowing him, it’d probably be the former.

“Are you alright MC? You’ve been out here on your own a while.” He said, I knew it was him. He’s the only one who can slink away unnoticed. I nodded saying something about fresh air and my social battery reaching its limit. I assume he nodded and made a quiet exit because when I turned around to face him, he was gone as if he’d never been there in the first place. I wanted to go back inside, I really did but at the same time, I just wanted to leave. To go home and have a comfortable evening. I heard another set of footsteps. A bit heavier than Barbatos’ but not heavy enough for me to pin who they belonged to.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you, I'm lucky I bumped into Barbatos, and he told me.” A gruff voice sounded from behind me. I knew in that moment that it was Satan’s. I turned my neck to be able to look at him from the corner of my eye and, damn did he look good in a suit. He looked good in a lot to be honest. I let him walk towards me and look across the Devildom at my side. Leaning into him, I felt my whole body relax and my social battery began to recharge. All be it slowly, but it was recharging.

“You know, you are the most beautiful looking at this entire party.” Satan whispered to me; a light flush covered my cheeks in that moment as he wrapped his arm around my waist. He often did stuff like that: holding my hand in public, holding me by the waist during our book nights and if I was busy falling asleep, he’d play with my hair lightly and give me a kiss to my forehead as I drifted off. He hasn’t always been this comforting especially when we first met, but he warmed up in time and I'm so glad that I stayed with him the whole time.

“Did you want to dance with me?” He questioned.

“I really did, but then I had Diavolo, Lucifer, Solomon, Simeon, and Mammon constantly asking. And now my social battery is fucking gone. I'm sorry, id love to dance but I'm exhausted. It’s the whole reason I came out here.” I confessed, my feet ached, and my ears were ringing from the loud music playing.

“You were the only one I wanted to dance with because you know when I want to stop and you do, the others just constantly begged for me to keep dancing, Simeon being the only exception.” I drawled, my words starting to slur slightly together as my exhaustion slowly started to catch up. It was at that moment when the new year clock began to count down, and everyone in the hall began to count down. They started from thirty.

“Look, there’s something I've been meaning to tell you for a while and… I just don't know how to say it.” Satan started speaking, I was solely focused on him and his words.

“The time we’ve spent together has been amazing and I wouldn’t wish for it to be any other way apart from one thing.” I raised an eyebrow at his statement, my confusion starting to sober me up.

“It’s just, I just… ugh, I want to know-” He was cut off from everyone inside getting louder:

“Ten.”

“Nine.”

“Eight.”

“Seven.”

“Six.”

“Five.”

“Look, I really want to be able to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Four.”

“And I’d be so grateful if you would like to spend those years with me.”

“Three.”

“And I hate that it took me this long to be able to tell you.”

“Two.”

“To tell you that-”

“One.”

“I love you.”

“Happy New Year!” and with that, he kissed me. Slightly passionate and wanting, almost lustful. I kissed him back, wanting this for I can’t even remember how long.

“I love you too.” I whispered to him, as we broke the kiss. I've wanted this for ages, but I’d been too shy to be able to tell him.

“How about we get out of here.”

“But Lucifer has the house keys.”

“I already thought about that.” He held the keys in front of me and shook them slightly allowing them to jingle quietly.

“Then lets fucking leave!” I whisper yelled back to him.

#obey me #obey me satan #obey me fluff #satan #obey me writing #obey me mc #obey me x reader #happy new year #satan x reader #satan x mc #satan obey me

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aziraphales-library · 2 months

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Hey! First time asking. Does anyone know a fic where Crowley moves on with someone else and Azi is jealous? Or any fic with jealous Aziraphale? Thank you!

Hello. We have a #jealous aziraphale tag you'll want to take a look at. Here are more jealous Aziraphale fics, along with a couple in which Crowley is with someone else and does not remain with Aziraphale...

Muse by LadyRazzle (NR)

"There’s more to temptation than hanging round and whispering sweet nothings into delicate ears. Sometimes you have to get…stuck in." "Stuck in?" Aziraphale exclaimed.

Courting Dance by commandersmoothdog (T)

Aziraphale and Crowley's relationship is...healing. Things simply couldn't go back to how they were or how they wished they would. So they're taking things slow. While at the Farmer's Market Aziraphale learns that Crowley was unknowingly set up on a blind date the previous week. Shyness ebbs away as jealousy takes over, along with the fear of the chance of Crowley moving on from him, and he amps up the romance in their relationship. He apparently can't claim to have been subtle with his feelings before, but now they are undoubtedly present! At least he hopes they're undoubtable to Crowley.

A Tryst and A Job offer by justsimplymeagain (E)

The angel gone - Crowley was left to his own devices - and for a demon like him. That meant drinking, sleeping and trying to escape the worst century in any way possible. By any means. Or it normally would mean that if it wasn’t for two things: One - He had company to drink with. Two - He had a job offer that was more tempting than it had a right to be.

Bit On The Side by commandersmoothdog (E)

"So how's it been? Reuniting with your angel," Lucifer asked with a smirk as he took a drag from his cigarette. "I don't think that's the best pillow-talk conversation we can be having," Crowley countered. "Oh, I disagree! I love it when angels do a walk of shame out of heaven. Plus...I should keep tabs on my competition, shouldn't I?" "He's apologized. I'm slowly accepting his apology. We have lunch. And dinner. And drink." "Do you talk?" Lucifer prompted. "Mostly about nothing." "Do you fuck?" "No." "Do you want to?" "What could I do with him that you can't do better?" The smile Crowley gave Lucifer was small, and he wouldn't claim to be happy, but content is enough...given the previous years. His answer also fed into Lucifer's ego, which did the trick and Lucifer was satisfied. or Lucifer opens a London branch of Lux and puts Crowley in charge. The party is as modern, sexy, and sinful as it is in LA. It was enough of a distraction for Crowley until Aziraphale returned. Can he keep his sexual relationship with Lucifer and his romantic relationship with Aziraphale balanced?

Forget Him by DarkHedgehog, slatehertzer (E)

When Aziraphale breaks up with Crowley for the hundredth time, it's as if his whole world had shattered, but there are other people that care for him still and he's about to find out just how much. A Crowley/Lucifer positive fic

Crowley Gets A Boyfriend by swimmingfox (T)

Six months after Aziraphale left him for Heaven, Crowley is moping around London hating everything. Until he meets an unruffled mechanic who asks him out. Rebound fic! In which Crowley learns to a) like himself a little bit and b) learns what having a boyfriend is supposed to be like. But the Second Coming looms, and decisions have to be made…

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley/other(s)#crowley/lucifer #jealous aziraphale #adult omens #mod d

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seithr · 3 days

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top 5 blazblue character designs

YIPPEE BLAZBLUE

I feel like my tastes are known but I still will take this chance to gush a bit about the characters and design philosophy of em that Ive always been real fond of :)

No particular order here or else I'll be here all night formatting on mobile. More under the cut!

HAKUMEN it goes without saying I LOVE HAKUMEN'S DESIGN SO MUCH. The taloned tabi, the silhouette of wide pants and closefitted shinguards/torso. The faces/eyes scattered across his armour while the face is totally blank—made more unreadable and inhuman by the slats of neck guard. Fox-ears built into the helm shape to feel both animal and mechanical like antennae...and obviously the longass hair to sell the "tailed" look.

I remember reading really early on into liking BlazBlue—I can't remember the source, come maul me if I'm wrong—I read that Hakumen as a character and design was made when Mori was in middle or highschool, the idea of "what is really cool," and much of those ideas stayed. I not only really respect that and think its charming as someone who still likes MY own designs from that time, but, as it turns out, middle schoolers are still right. Hakumen is very cool. Augh. Fucking? Time travelling fox-robot samurai who's here to kill his brother to save him and also himself because his old self wanted to do the same thing for the wrong reason and thay thought disgusts him. Also him and Tsubaki in general make me start to choke (positive). God ok I have four more guys to discuss. Yes i also like Susanoo but I feel like thats a copout, I like that he's both animalistic and brutal martial arts as the God of War. Anyways CONTINUING

VALKENHAYN R HELLSING I will admit that he is an old man in a suit and that speaks to me but that he's one of the strongest beings alive as a old man in a suit ohh. And he's a werewolf ohhhh. Shifting just his body parts to kick and rip with his claws, quickly leaping back and forth between a normal bone-breaking jab or knee or biting and snarling—the dance between raw force and refined precision and a brutal tear's always been sooo cool to see and think about. I also think his ribbon in his hair moving to his wolfy tail is very cute. A man of sharp extremes from refined to flashing his fangs, human and wolf, cool and very cute. I like him :)

TSUBAKI YAYOI her uniform is so nice uruururururugh. Big cape and the way it drapes around her in combat like wings... Her sword and buckler/Izayoi looking so unique for being a "basic sword and shield for the hero"-type of deal! The eye on her hat's always been really striking too—the only "cold" colours being her and her uniforms eyes.....................Sparing a glance at Hakumen's recurring red eyes for no reason here. Knightly angel women and her flower-like "tassets" hanging off her clothes. Its a uniform which plausibly feels like it could be a uniform—she doesn't have anything uniquely "hers" or "for this female character" while still being really standout and clean. Her design's just really good guys. You can do so much.

Really want to mention her masked look too at least really quick here. my girllllll...

RAGNA THE BLOODEDGE well of course I really like his design. Yeah him being here is partially obligation because I love his character a lot but both things inform each other in the end. Mr Grim Reaper, Enemy of the World, red-and-black with a demon's arm on one side and a rebuilt one on the other. His big red coat and the oversize shoulders! The massive baggy pants—I love the silhouette he has. Blood Scythe/Aramasa/His sword transforming and able to clack around and shift's just. Always been such a cool design. Seithr-powered man, devil-smoke powered man, ashes of your own old dead self-powered man. Ragna is fucking cool auauauuuaghrhg.

And it DOES only make it more charming that he has a good heart, has a bit of a Kicked Puppy charm about him if you can pardon uhh that implication. He is just some fucking guy and he likes barbecues. He is sweet and cares for stray cats. His dad is a cat. He blows up the government regularly. He's a rebel who visually looks really clean if "intentionally trying to look like someone you should think is cool", which is both dork-charming and cute and also actually yeah cool because it's not a visual mess.

I like that his arm underneath is all belts and bandaged—Bloodedge only wearing half his coat for example is such a good look and it shows his clean black shirt underneath, which feels a lot like... Under that big eyecatching rebel coat of his (personality), Ragna's... Ragna, I don't know. I hope that makes sense. Knowing his personality makes me like his design a lot more than if I didn't I think.

As mentionned in Hakumen's block of text however: I already really like chuuni-ass designs, so combined in Ragna he makes me unwell entirely.

And last (I am running out of images allowed per post :((((( )

Kitty peepaw. I am cheating slightly here. I like the Kaka Kittens' big hoods too and think they're very cute and very eyecatching and I adore them always—the kittens especially being stompy little things that travel in packs are really cute. I love that Jubei, actual strongest thing in the world, has the oversized paw sleeves too. There's cat claws bigger than his body stored in what looks like emo kids' oversize hoodie sleeves. He's so simple and still the imagery of that coat gets reused several times over and it looks good every time. Orange kitty peepaw. AND he has an eyepatch, how can I not like eyepatches.

There are my 5 favourite BlazBlue designs :> Sorry if them all being C series or smth is boring wauh. I can spend as long as I want thinkinh about it but I do always seem to come back to these guys, give or take one change depending on the mood. Unchanging faves are Hakumen and Tsubaki for sure and forever though.

#LONG POST #REALLY FUCKING LONG POST #IF MY READMORE BREAKS I AM SO SORRY EVERYONE. I AM PUTTING A BUNCH OF TAGS TO HOPEFULLY DISSUADE SHOWING UP IN MAINTAGS #JUUUUST IN CASE..... ANYWAYS #smellpelt #BB designs have an important place in my heart but these guys especially have a special place in my Brain #To the extent they're a sort of inspiration I jiggle around in there for fun in shapes and clothing and pushing it around/reusing/etc #I dont have much to say about them but I like to think about their design choice: Azrael Kagura and aforementioned Susanoo #Azrael's coat kick esp and the sort of. i guess wrestler aura around him. I can't pick it apart but like it. the pant leg sleeve is neat #Kagura I like holding him up to Jin comparatively. You can read his personality off the difference with the open shirt+I prefer #How Kagura's mantle+loose flappy sleeves look to Jin's. Is it the detail? It feels there's more to 'read' there. I like his ed. of uniform #And while Kag is wearing tight fitted pants I like them more than how thin Jin's legwear makes it look. just personal pref idk #Susanoo (MUST DIE starts playing loudly) it is known.#blazblue #Thank u for your prompt i lov and mis blazblue so bad forever mwah mwah I love you BlazBlue #My asks

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