#dear god this waz long!!

[xandertheundead]

hello!!! i just have to say i binged your superhero au today and im obsessed 😍😍 definitely my favorite one out there! i was wondering 2 things- one, would you mind if i drew for your au? and two, if thats ok, i was wondering more about what their hero outfits looked like! your fic gave some description, i was just curious 😊 sorry if this is a lot ahh!! have a lovely day!!

Oh my god! Thank you so much! It really means a lot to me that you liked it so much! And of course you can draw for it!! God lord of course that is such an honor! Which losers costumes were you thinking?

Richie - Richie’s costume is a literal blue jumpsuit, like one mechanics or factory workers wear, picture ghostbusters but blue. He wears a bandolier around his chest of water capsules as well as a jug of water tied to his hip for drinking and power uses. He wears a pair of large goggle over his eyes in place of an eye mask and big heavy steel toed combat boots.

Eddie - Eddie’s suit gold with deep red accent colors. His knee high boots and elbow length combat gloves are this deep red along with the shoulders and collar of his costume. His eye mask is deep red with gold lining and a large golden eight point star is on the center of his chest.

Bill - Bill’s suit is black and yellow, mostly all black except for his forearms, shoulders and the image of Athena’s owl stitched onto the chest. He wears a loose belt around hips, a place where silver can rest when she is not needed and a dope ass leather jacket. (Like 90’s Kon from Superboy)

Bev - Bev’s suit is dark blue and brilliant red. Because her skin is almost impenetrable, her costume resembles more of a long sleeved gymnastics leotard with a hood. She wears heavy steal lined red gloves that come to her wrists and flat red sensible shoes that help her be quick as well as strong. Her eye mask is navy blue and the body of her suit has two bright red stripes running up the side.

Stan - Stan’s suit is all black. His codename is Ghost and he feels like he should keep to the name by dressing as stealthy as he possibly can. He wears a black eye mask along with a black hood so he face hide better in the shadows. His shoes are made of almost only fabric, quietest when moving, with small rubber lining to help with running and combat.

Mike - Mike’s suit takes on the colors of the flower he named himself after, the bloodroot. The base color of his suit is black while his forearms, calves and shoulders are white, all which have yellow lining. His mask is pure white with yellow lining and the symbol on his chest is the Bloodroot.

Ben - Ben’s suit is his own design, top tier engineering and design went into making his suit along with his special gift to help without need of welding. His body is incased inside a heavy suit of medieval armor, though sleek and modern looking it weighs almost half a ton. But because of his power this weight means nothing to him and he can also use it to fly in his suit.

Georgie - Georgie’s suit is all white underneath, no one really can tell with his billowing black-blue cloak always around his suit. The large good of his cloak is almost always up, showing only his mouth and a pair of white vacant eyes. He carries a shovel with him, jokes that it’s what Hades dug him up with, which Bill finds not funny in the SLIGHTEST.

[mageofseven]

Back again with the request of the brothers and undateables reaction to MC drunk texting them that they love, Love them ❤️

Oh thank you so much for resending this! I'm sorry about the mishap before. I hope you'll enjoy these~ Since you didn't specify, these are written from the perspective that MC and the boys are in a relationship when they text the boys.

Also, I decided to split these up into two posts so this one will only have the Brothers in it, but I will put up a post for the Undateables real soon!

~

Lucifer:

The man sighed at his desk, signing what felt like the thousandth paper that night. It was only 1am so the night was still young; he knew he'd be at this till morning only to have to go through his duties tomorrow without rest. It was not unusual for him, but the oldest brother was still feeling a bit burnt out.

Ding.

He paused for a moment before setting his pen down and picking up his phone from the corner of the desk.

'Daaaddy. Mammnk dispered'

Ignoring the name they gave him, the man just stared down at the text. He gave another big sigh.

'MC, where are you?'

'I djnno. I went tk a party with Mammm and Asmo and thyy jsyt went poooff.'

God, his brothers were idiots. What if something happens to MC while they're off doing whatever?

'I'll track your phone then. I'll be there soon'

'Nuuu. I jsut wanna get my phone bacc from Mamsmm'

Oh dear Diavolo...

'Love, you're texting me off your phone.'

'Ooo. Yur rite!'

'I am coming to get you now.'

'Okaaaa bye Daddynm. Love yuo.'

The man rolled his eyes, but smile slightly down at the screen. What was he going to with his Love?

Mammon:

Shit! Where'd they go?! He took MC with him to the casino to help distract the other gamblers as he played cards-- hey don't judge!! He promised to buy them a few drinks afterwards. So there they were, sittin' and drink together when this guy he owes money to starts running up and yelling at him! Of course Mammon had to bail! He told MC to run with him but at one point he turned around and the human wasn't there! He's been rushing around and searching for them for the last twenty minutes. Where did they go??

Bing. His phone went off. The moron facepalmed. He has his phone! He should have been calling them or something.

'Baaaabbby. Im loneyl.'

'Oi! Where'd you go? I told you to follow me!'

'But I waz tlkin to thhe fnny man! He evn boght more deinks.'

Shit. They're still back at the bar. But with him of all people??

'Babe, why ya drinking with that jerk??'

'Im not. Hss wife cam e adn got him.'

Wife? Oh thank Diavolo, Belinda came through for him!

'Stay put, got that? I'm heading back now.'

'Kk I love yuo babbny 😘'

Mammon blushed as he read that last message.

'Ya, ya, just stay put, human.'

Leviathan:

Okay so Levi himself is not really a drinker in most circumstances. He pretty much sees it as another thing normies do and use as an excuse to spend time with other normies. Like, why would he care about something so stupid anyway?

Still, that doesn't mean there aren't exceptions to that kind of thing. Like the new bottle he won from a contest run by the creators of the anime I Partied So Hard That I Ripped Opened The Frabric of Reality And Was Met By My Future Wife Who Is Secretly A Cat Girl From Venus! I mean, it's seriously cool! It's the same brand of Venustian wine that Nyanitia loves in the anime!

Levi was so excited when it arrived that he practically begged MC to come to his room to drink it with him as he played his new video game from Akuzon. Honestly it didn't end up like he thought it would though. The wine barely did anything to him at all. I mean, yeah, the third brother didn't have a lot of experience with alcohol but he thought he would at least feel a little different than normal. Eh, whatever. The effect is kinda lame but it's still from the anime! If it's good enough for Nyanitia then it's good enough for him.

The demon shrugged it off and got absorbed in his video game to the point where he even stopped talking to MC, which wasn't unusual. After dying a couple times, he threw his controller down.

"Uggghh, can you believe that MC--"

The boy just noticed that he was alone. Oh... was he really that boring to hangout with? The Avatar of Envy started mumbling a lot of insults to himself as he picked up the bottle.

"Was my gaming that bad? Or was it the wine?" He mused sadly. "No, I bet it was the wine. It barely did anything to me so I doubt it effected them either...."

He starts reading the label on the back, skimming till he reads a section on alcohol level. Level for demons: mild.

"That explains it..." He grumbled, continuing to read in his head.

Level for Angels: low medium. Level for Humans: HIGH. WARNING. KEEP OUT OF REACH OF HUMANS.

Oh...oh no. What's gonna happen to his Henry?? Are they gonna die?? Is Lucifer gonna kill him??? GAH! Where did they go--

Beep. His phone!

'Leeevvvvvi. I fels wooozy.'

Panicking, the boy typed back.

'Where are you??? Are you dying???'

'Nuuuu. I'm jsyt wwwoooosh.'

Gah! What does that even mean?? Before the demon could respond, he got another message.

'Leeeevvvvi chan I lvoe you~.'

The boy's face and ears blazed red. I mean, yeah, it's not the first time he's heard/read them say that but still! Now isn't the time for this!

Another message.

'Sweeeeetue. Coem love me 😢'

The demon let out a panicked yell and charged out his door. His foot collided with something and he heard a whine.

"Sweeeeetie why?" MC laid on the floor of the hallway, pouting and looking more hurt emotionally than physically.

Still panicking, Levi picked up the human and brought them back into his room. He laid them in his bathtub and start researching the affects of Venustian wine on humans.

Boy nearly collapsed from relief and exhaustion when he found out they only had a sip and shouldn't have any health issues from it.

Ends up apologizing a million times over and becomes extra protective of them for the next couple weeks and is paranoid about every food and drink placed in front of them.

Satan:

It was an average evening for him. He was in his room, reading in bed as he waited for MC to come home. Asmo managed to convince them to go to a party with him. Satan didn't really want them to go tonight, but he saw their eyes light up with just the idea of it and the blonde couldn't bring himself to say a thing. Like him, MC didn't really have any experience with parties prior to this, but unlike him, they had a great interest in them. How could he ask them not to go if this was an experience they had wanted for a long time?

Ding.

The man laid his book down next to him and reached for his phone that he laid on the closest stack of books.

'Satn, peple are sk mean 😥'

The demon launched into a sitting position.

'Who needs to die?' He texted back, protective instincts springing up inside himself for them.

'Nno. Teh people here just amke me feel so lft out.'

He sighed. MC was too sensitive for that kind of environment.

'Kitten, tell Asmo to take you home now.' Satan texted before adding 'Tell him I said so.'

'Btu hes tlkin to a succubus'

'I don't care. Tell him what I said.'

'Okaa 😔'

The demon waited a few minutes, but didn't get a new message.

'Kitten?' He texted them.

Minutes when by. Nothing. The blonde got out of bed and started pacing. When that didn't help, he started to transform from the anger at his brother. He decided to text Asmo.

'Bring them home now or so help me, you will face a different type of hell when you get back.'

No reply from his brother either. The Avatar of Wrath was ready to start breaking shit.

Ding. He quickly checked his phone. It was MC.

'Bb I love you.'

The blonde stopped in his tracks. Why--after over 20 minutes of waiting-- was that their only response?

The demon reached out for his door knob, ready to go out and hunt for them, when his door swung open, revealing his brother, who was holding up an intoxicated MC.

"Ugh, you ruined my night!" The fifth brother complained.

Satan, still in his demon form, was ready to deck the other man at best and at worst, who knows. He didn't get the chance to find out because instead, MC tumbled forward and into his arms.

"Satan," They whined. "I wanna.... I wanna lay down."

The blonde took a deep breath before looking to his brother.

"Just leave. Now." He slammed the door closed on the other demon before laying MC down in bed and joining them. He pulled the blanket over them both and held his Kitten close to his chest.

"I should have...stayed home." They mumbled.

He kissed their forehead.

"It's fine. You're fine now, Kitten."

Asmodeus:

After a long, but fun night at The Fall, the Avatar of Lust had his fill was ready to get his beauty sleep. Sadly, he had lost track of his Doll. Oh dear, where could they be? Despite being so late, there were still plenty of people out and he was having trouble tracking them down.

Beep. The demon checked his phone.

'Azzy, I lvoe you🥰'

Asmo giggled, texting back.

'Aww! I love you too! Now where did you run off to? I miss my Dolly~.'

'By eth bahroons'

The man headed off that way and found MC on the floor in the hallway that led to the bathroom.

"Well, what are you doing down there?" He teased.

MC started giggling.

"I fell."

Seeing that they weren't hurt, the demon simply bent over and helped them up. The human instantly leaned against him and hugged him close.

"I love you, Azzy." They told him, closing their eyes as they enjoy the embrace and pressing their cheek against his.

Asmo let out a small laugh then pulled back just enough to kiss his Doll on their cheek.

"Oh you're just too adorable, you know that?" He told them before leading them to the front of the building. "Now let's go home, okay?"

Beelzebub:

Beel woke up for a midnight snack and headed to the kitchen. It was a quick in and out thing, not wanting to be caught by his brothers. He grabbed a whole cabinet full of snacks and carried them back to his room.

Ding. His phone went off and as he opened the door to his room.

The demon laid his snacks on his bed and got in before grabbing his phone off the nightstand.

'Beeesly, I love oyu~'

The redhead smiled happily. It was MC.

'I love you too. When are you coming home?'

No response. The demon simply opened up a bag of chips and started eating. It's fine; he can be patient.

Instead of getting a response however, he was greeted by his Muffin at door.

"I'm baaack~." The human giggled, stumbling just slightly as they walked up to the bed and flopped down before snuggling up to the big demon.

Beel kissed the top of their head, smiling at them.

"Did you have fun with Solomon, Muffin?"

"Mhmm." They said, closing their eyes and stretching out their legs, causing some of the snacks to fall to the floor. He didn't mind.

"That's good." He sat the chip bag on the stand so he could use both hands to hold them close.

The two of them laid there, cuddled up together. The big demon stroked their hair till they heard the human's breath slow and were asleep.

"G'night, Muffin." He whispered. "Dream sweetly."

Belphegor:

It was the middle of the night and Belphie was asleep. That might sound normal for the Avatar of Sloth to you, but in actuality, this was unusual for him. The sleepy boy slept so much during the day that he was usually awake starting from whenever he woke up from his after-dinner nap up until around 4 or 5 am.

Tonight, however, Belphie really wasn't feeling it. Ya know, the whole 'awake' thing. He didn't feel like being conscious. The same reason he didn't wanna be awake was the same reason why he wasn't sleeping very deeply either.; MC wasn't there with him.

That scum Mammon took them out somewhere and they didn't even tell him. He had to hear it from Beel. The 7th brother has been grumpy since then and didn't wanna do anything so he hid away in his attic and fell asleep.

Bing. Bing. Bing.

The demon let out a frustrated sigh. That was the 9th text he got in the last two minutes. He picked up his phone from the other side of the bed and begrudgingly read his messages.

'Belpphi'

'Beelphi

'Belphii'

'Babb'

'Babe'

'Babr'

'Beeelpie'

'Heeyy'

'Mr Moomooo man pay atttention ot me 😢'

"Mr. Moomoo man?" Belphie said out loud, scowling down at the screen. If he wasn't mad at MC, he would have cracked a smile.

'What's wrong with you?' He texted.

'Mammmn lfet me all alone 😔'

Belphie eyes went wide.

'What happened?'

'Mammo owes mnoey to this big Moloc guy and eh chased Maaamkn away.'

Ugh. Mammon's a dumbass.

'Where are you?'

'I dunno. He lefy me on a bench. Teh park?'

'The one by the school?'

'Mmaybe?'

The demon let out another big sigh.

'I'll be there soon. Don't move.'

'Okyy'

A couple seconds later, they sent another text.

'I love yuo, bb. Im srry 😔'

Belphie frowned. His anger at them was dissipating.

'Yeah, I love you too, butthead. Now stay there.'

~

Masterlist

[tranz-regent]

DEAR GOD ARC 7 WAZ LONG OKAY

- i rlly liked zeeing how the lambz (mainly sy) were dealing w jamiez death

- mary and lillian are cute. friendzhip woo :)

- i like ashton a lot zo far, hez very intriguing. getting hiz pov, even if only for a bit waz rlly interezting, zeeing how he viewz the world and thinkz and procezzez

- HA EAT ZHIT PERCY

- gonna b honezt i dont rlly remember who cynthia iz but it waz nice to zee a bunch of thr big badz if previouz arcz having to work together and how fray leadz

- i alzo rlly like the detail of sy keeping the ring

- helen iz ztill my favorite. even tho i have red hair and frecklez

[sodagendered]

it's fucking. comfort ship hours so here we go lmao

I'm on mobile currently so I can't do that whole click for more thing so y'all have to deal with a long ass post............. yeah

anyway let's a go

( @kiingcorobo since u asked me to tag you... 👉👈)

.

"hey-lo, kamal."

the large, green man almost towered over kamal, but despite his intimidating figure, dr. habit's smile was genuine and gentle, yet had a certain sadness behind it. the scars he had received when he was little were still very clear, especially when he was smiling like this. kamal couldn't help but stare at habit's lips, then at his eyes, then his lips again. he felt his hands become clammy, and he had to glance downwards to prevent himself from staring, though he had already failed at that.

"hey, doc," kamal swallowed nervously before replying, placing his hands in his pockets as he tried to play it cool, but that was immediately lost when habit's head titled in confusion.

"you aren't... you're not... mad?" the doctor asked, placing his large hands behind his back as he started rocking back and forth on his heels, "i was very rude 2 you, kamal..."

"i could never stay mad at you, doc," kamal replied simply, placing a hand on habits chest as he smiled at the much larger man, doing his very best to not have a heart attack due to how close he and habit were now.

"i amn... so very sorry, my dear assistant... i do not know how you can simply 4give me liek this..."

"doc, it's fine. you're fine. we're fine. it's all gonna be okay. i know you weren't doing your best, and i-"

"do not apologize, kamal. it's me who waz in the wrong... you've been perfect thiz whole time, it is me who was at fault."

with that, kamal felt a shiver shoot down his spine as the doctors words sank in.

"per... perfect?"

habit simply nodded, his eyes half-closed as he crossed his arms across his large chest, sighing a little before glancing upwards.

"doc, you're not gonna... cry, are you?"

"no, i amn not! i will not!"

and yet, tears were already streaming down the doctors face, and kamal gave a content sigh as he stood on his toes, just barely reaching the top of habits neck. despite this, he made do by gently grabbing the others chin, pulling his head down to wipe the tears away before he realized that their faces were just a few inches apart now.

habit leaned down so kamal didn't have to strain himself so much, and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he placed his own hands atop of kamals.

"you r so very kind to me, kamal..." he whispered, the tears still coming strong, but his smile didn't fade, "i was not nice to u at all, yet you decided 2 forgive me... you didn't have 2 do that, kamal."

"i... i know, doc," kamal cleared his throat, feeling his face redden the more habit spoke. god damn it, this was supposed to be a serious moment, why was he getting so flustered now? granted, the feeling of the doctors large hands right on his own and their lips being so close felt so... intimate... he shook his head to try and get himself to focus, but it didn't really work.

suddenly, the doctor carefully picked kamal up by the hips, his big arms wrapping around his former assistants waist, causing kamal to nearly pass out.

"g-geez, doc, why'd you do that?" kamal yelled, mostly in surprise.

"ah, am sorry," habits smile faded, and his cheeks darkened ever so slightly, "i just thought speeking liek this would b easier, but i cann put you down-"

"no, no!" kamal immediately protested, his arms then wrapping around the doctors neck, "i... i like it here..."

habits smile returned, even wider than before, and he twirled around with kamal gleefully, causing kamal to squeak in surprise, though he really should've seen this coming.

"so... r we good?" habit suddenly stopped and addressed it directly, looking kamal directly in the eyes, which made the both of them blush for just a moment.

"i mean... i mean, i know we will have 2 work some thingz out... but i would like 2 be close to u again, kamal."

"i'd love that, doc," there was almost no hesitation for kamal. he had been wanting this since the day after he quit working for the doctor, since he realized he missed habits company more than he would like to ever admit.

"ah, wunderful! we will make this work out, i promize!"

"yeah, i trust you, doc."

habit then set kamal down, his cheeks darkening as he started to mess with his hands.

"huh? what's up, doc?"

"i just... hm... wuld like 2 kiss u..."

"huh?!"

kamals face turned a bright, dark red as his fingers twitched, before he scratched the back of his neck nervously.

"i mean, uh... what? huh? kiss? huh? that's so, like, romantic, huh? like on the lips? well that'd be nice but why'd you ask? I mean, i, well, um... yeah just kiss me it's fine go for it!"

habit blinked in confusion, his head titling once more.

"are... do you want me 2 kiss you, kamal?"

"YES."

kamal gasped quietly in surprise, not expecting himself to blurt it out like that, but he didn't exactly regret it either. habit leaned down and placed a gentle kiss against kamals lips before immediately pulling away, becoming quite flustered himself.

"u shuld... probably get going now, kamal..." the doctor sighed, a sad expression falling upon his face.

"oh, i... uh... i can, uh... stay here with you tonight, if you'd like," kamal offered, his voice nervously quivering and even cracking at one point. nevertheless, habits face lit up, and he picked kamal up and spun him arond once again. he placed another soft kiss upon kamals lips and giggled at his own nervousness.

"oh, my lily! i love you so very much!"

[ladyoutlier]

A Demon’s Demons

In which Hell reunites Crowley with his Falling pains.

[Read on AO3] | [Read My Other Fics]

Prologue

In the deepest pits of Hell, below the torture cells and the mail room, existed a hallway that had been forgotten for longer than the Earth’s existence. Back when Hell lacked design and it was only a plane of fire and brimstone, this hallway was one of the first structures the Fallen created through their agonizing pain and scorched beings. As their wings burned and their chests collapsed with hollowness from their lack of Grace, the hallway came into existence as a way for them to rid themselves of the pain. They could hardly stand as a threat to Heaven when so horribly crippled from their Fall.

So the hallway became endless and gained many rooms that branched from it—one for each of the Fallen. And in these rooms, each newly born demon ripped themselves apart, tearing their Sins from their being. The Fall became a memory, moving into the past rather than living with them in every second of the present. The pain was gone, and the Fallen could live again.

Their Sins remained in their rooms behind doors with a thousand locks that were boarded up with a hundred planks. Left to the depths of Hell to be forgotten as the place of horror built on top of it for the next six thousand years. However, it was not gone. It merely continued to stir below the floorboards, waiting for someone to return. And after the End of the World was thwarted, someone who had never quite forgotten the hallway did return.

The hallway was dark and dusty but far from silent as Lord Beelzebub, accompanied by their right-hand demon Dagon, walked down it. Even through all the precautions, the doors rattled angrily as the Sins demanded to be freed. There were not a lot of things the Lord of Flies feared. Board meetings with Satan after particularly low months were one. A demon immune to holy water was another. And the Sins of a past better left forgotten were the most feared of all.

Still, one does not rise to Beelzebub’s position without the ability to press on in the face of fear, and so they walked on, footsteps echoing down the hallway barely audible above the smashing and banging of an army of Fallen’s Sins. The way forward and the way back were both consumed by darkness as the light flickered ominously above the two demons as they walked. Unlike the Sins, the dark didn’t trouble them. Those of Hell were all too familiar with it.

Beelzebub stopped before a door and gestured to it. “This izz the one.”

Dagon, Lord of the Files, looked to the door. A glowing signature that rather resembled a cursive letter ‘J’ burned above it. The door shook, and the chains barring it shut rattled. Dust puffed from the door’s seams as the Sins slammed against it from the other side.

“Shall I open it?” Dagon asked. “There’ll be no getting them back in there once it’s opened.”

“We may not be able to destroy Crowley, but that doesn’t mean we have to do him any favorzzz. If he wishes to live on Earth, let Earth have all of him.”

Dagon nodded and produced a crowbar. Board after board began to fall, clattering to the ground in a racket that was still drowned out by the noise of all the Sins. As the barricade weakened, the Sins behind the exiled demon’s door grew increasingly aggressive, pounding harder and more frequently. An eternity of waiting was coming to an end.

As the last board fell, Dagon’s crowbar became a key, and the locks and chains began to clatter to the concrete as well. There were still about ten locks on the door when the Sins busted it open. The dark spirits they embodied soared out from the crypt of a room in a frenzy. 

The hallway, although it was as deep in Hell as it could get, froze over. Screaming far too high pitched to be heard brought a chill to the hallway’s only occupants. Not from the cold, but rather from the distress of the Sins. They were only held together by the knowledge that those particular Sins tearing about were not their own.

As the Sins fully grasped their newfound freedom, they gained direction and skyrocketed down the hall, eager to return to the being they haven’t seen since the Fall. He wouldn’t be hard to find. Long ago, they had been one after all.

Dagon and Beelzebub were left in the hallway alone. Although the Sins of every other demon remained behind all the other doors, this one spot in the hall had become eerily quiet. Yet, without the presence of the Sins, both demons felt more at ease.

“It izzz done,” Beelzebub began. “For his sake, I hope the betrayal waz worth it.”

As the Sins piloted their way through every layer of Hell, the demons occupying them all felt a rather uncomfortable shiver down their spines. As one might imagine, this was hardly a normal occurrence. An uncomfortable demon was as much an oxymoron as a faithless priest. Something quite devious had occurred, and all the Fallen of Hell were glad they weren’t on the receiving end of it.

Only God could make an angel Fall from Heaven. To Fall from Hell, on the other hand, required a whole lot less divine intervention as Crowley was soon to find out.

*

Chapter 1: Sharing Secrets

Meanwhile on Earth, an angel and a demon that had chosen humanity over their respective head offices were taking a nice after-dinner stroll through Green Park to where the demon had left his Bentley. They had many conversations over the years stemming from humanity’s true nature to the brain mass of aquatic animals. On this particular day, they were talking about their favorite decade of human culture.

“‘Course the mid-1800s were your time, angel. You haven’t updated your wardrobe since then.” Crowley eyed Aziraphale’s outfit and smirked. “Me though? Big fan of the 1960s.”

“The youth did become rather rowdy during that time,” Aziraphale replied, tearing off a piece of a leftover dinner roll to throw to a duck crossing their path.

The warm summer air was beginning to cool for the year, and this evening was a prime example of that. Although something else entirely might have been bringing the chill to Green Park on this night. Something that was currently racing down Piccadilly as they spoke. Regardless, it was a beautiful, romantic evening, and many couples could be spotted sharing body heat on the sporadic benches along the walking path. 

Crowley very much wanted to share one of them with Aziraphale, but he shook that thought out of his head. There was one thing about the 1960s not at all related to human culture that he really didn’t like. One specific event in 1967 that keep him from moving too fast on those thoughts.

“Only you would describe the turf war between the mods and rockers with a term as mild as rowdy.” Crowley rolled his eyes with a shake of his head. “Oh, loved the chaos both sides brought about, although never could decide who had the most style.”

“Which side wore the suits? Found that to be a bit more charming than the leather jackets,” Aziraphale asked, wrapping the remainder of the roll in his handkerchief and tucking it into his pocket.

“The same side that rode scooters instead of motorbikes, so they lost any points they gained from attire there. I mean, really? Scooters? Who ever looked at one of those and thought that was the best way to get around?”

“Madame Tracy’s was a bit on the slow side. We would have straight up missed Armageddon had I not taken things into my own hands.”

“Exactly! The things have always been useless.”

“Seems like there were benefits to both sides then.”

“Why I never chose a side myself. Wanted the best of both—”

Crowley was harshly interrupted mid-sentence as a part of himself he abandoned over six thousand years ago finally caught up to him. He came to a complete standstill, and Aziraphale took a few more steps forward before looking back at him.

“Crowley, dear, are you alright?”

The demon stood petrified in place, mouth agape, as if he had just been shot through the neck which, in essence, he had been. He sputtered out a series of syllables which essentially translated into nothing before clutching his chest and falling to his knees.

Needless to say, Aziraphale panicked. His eyes went wide, and he ran up beside the demon and kneeled down to him. He clutched Crowley’s shoulder with one hand and his face with another. “Crowley, Crowley. Look at me! Oh, Heavens above. You have to tell me what’s wrong!”

The demon jittered rather irregularly. His sunglasses fell to the ground, revealing that his eyes were darting about in a similar fashion. Merely two words escaped his lips. “Holy fuck.”

Aziraphale gave up on holding Crowley’s shoulder, deciding instead to use his hands to cup Crowley’s face. “I’ve never seen you in such a state. Please, try to calm down. Take a breath. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on!”

“T—thought we all had forgotten about that.” A smile briefly flashed over Crowley’s face before falling back to distress. “I mean, I did. Until now that is.”

“You’re going to have to elaborate a bit more on that. Forgotten what?”

Crowley took a few breaths, slowly regaining his composure. The pain seemed to be subsiding.  He pulled Aziraphale’s hands off his face. “Not—not here. Let’ssss just get sssomewhere more private.”

A few onlookers began to crowd. One lady, looking to do more than gawk, came up to the two. 

“Is he alright?” she asked Aziraphale.

“Fine. Peachy.” Crowley answered for him. “Mind your own businesssss, lady. C’mon, angel, let’sss go before we attract a crowd.”

Aziraphale did not correct him that is was indeed just him that was gaining attention, and instead helped the demon to his feet. Crowley marched off in the direction he parked, and Aziraphale turned to apologize to the woman. However, neither did Crowley get that far or did Aziraphale get out his apology before the demon let out another garbled yell and fell back to the ground.

“Do you need me to call an ambulance?” The woman asked.

Crowley ignored her. “Aziraphale, just get us out of here.”

“But with all these people watching?”

“Who caresss? They’ll write it off as a group hallucination. I can’t—not here.”

Aziraphale blinked his eyes, coming back to grips with how dire the situation was with Crowley sprawled out in pain on the pavement. Yes, this called for quite the miracle despite how many witnesses were about. “Yes, alright. Very well.” 

He snapped his fingers, and both he and Crowley disappeared from Green Park and appeared back at the familiar Soho bookshop. The demon growled and pounded the floor with his fist. Aziraphale, once again, went to his side to aid him.

“Crowley, please tell me something. You’re worrying me sick!”

“Worrying you? That’s the issue? Want to swap placesss?”

“Gladly. If it would at all help you!”

Crowley was silent. He looked down to the floor, huffing out heavy breaths. Once again, he seemed to be at a pause in the pain. It was almost as if—

“Well, aren’t I lucky?” the demon sneered.

“What do you mean by that? You aren’t answering any of my questions, Crowley.”

“J—just stay here. Don’t go anywhere, okay? I’ll tell you.”

“Of course, dear. I don’t plan on leaving you alone when you’re in such a state.”

“Yeah, well, yeah,” Crowley fumbled. “Listen. To put it briefly, Hell’s reunited me with all my Sins, and it’s rather painful.”

Aziraphale straightened up. “Reunited? I didn’t know it was possible to separate.”

“Demons have been doing it since the beginning. Falling hardly felt like warm, summer days and cool breezes. Left most of us unable to do much of anything. So we lobbed off the part causing the pain and moved on.”

“I see…”

“And Hell just handed me a box full of the things on my desk, and my Sins were right on top.”

“Why are you not then…” Aziraphale gestured with his hand. “...crying out now like you were a moment ago?”

Crowley made a rather strange expression. He cocked his head, curled his upper lip, and squinted his eyes which were still certainly visible due to his sunglasses being left behind in the park. A dozen or so words formed from his mouth before he landed on one. “You.”

“Me? What about me?” Aziraphale became rather flustered. “How could I be influencing this at all.”

“You have an, uh, angelic aura. Whole Falling pains revolving around us, well, y’know, losing that.”

“Oh.” The angel’s eyebrows furrowed, and an introspective look took over his face. “So, quite literally, my presence comforts you.”

“Yeah, I guess you could put it like that.”

“In that case, I won’t leave your side until we get all this sorted.”

Crowley’s eyes widened, and he babbled for a moment before pulling himself back into a neutral, less readable appearance. “This isn’t going to be as easy as you think.”

“Well, I’m involved either way. If I’m going to stay next to you to keep you from being distressed, I might as well provide my assistance in any other way possible as well. We’re in this together. Our own side, remember?”

“Using my own words against me, huh?”

“It’s only what you would do.”

“And since when did you start acting like me?”

“Oh, 1601 after I lost a coin flip with you, I believe,” Aziraphale said with a smug grin which became more serious as he returned to the topic at hand. “What exactly are the difficulties here? You were separate from your, um, Sins before. Can you not separate again?”

“Few issues with that.” Crowley stood up, feeling like himself with Aziraphale near. “Nowhere to box up the Sins once they’re out, and we wouldn’t even get that far. It’s a messy process. Removing them, that is. Highly doubt this body would survive that, and unless Adam’s handing out more, I’d be shit out of luck considering Hell’s not going to be keen on giving me one. You know, since they put me in this situation.”

“I see how that makes this tricky.”

“Tricky. Yeah, just the word I’d use.” Crowley rolled his eyes.

“We’d have to find some sort of get around, or an alternative solution.” Aziraphale gestured for Crowley to follow him and began walking to his backroom. “If you didn’t experience the pain, there would be no reason to go through the separation process. As we’ve discovered, my aura neutralizes it, but if we could find a way to cancel it out without my presence being necessary, you could simply continue on as normal.”

Aziraphale paced about his backroom. In all sense, having this conversation here rather than in the storefront made no difference in terms of privacy. The shop had been most definitely closed while they were out for dinner. Rather, the angel simply had a better time thinking clearly in this room. It had been where Crowley had talked him into thwarting the Apocalypse, and it was where he had studied Agnes Nutter’s book. If an idea were to strike him, it would be here.

“Are you just pondering out loud, or is this leading somewhere?” Crowley asked, taking a seat. “‘Cause I have absolutely no clue how to do what you’re suggesting.”

“Well, you could atone for them.”

“Oh, no, no, no, no. Yeah, uh huh. Sorry, no.”

“It is how humans overcome their own sins.”

“Yeah, but not human, am I? And I’ll tell you, there was plenty of trying that right after the Fall.”

“Perhaps, that was too soon. The meaning wasn’t there yet.”

“Wasn’t there yet? Oh, if you were anyone else, you stupid bastard.”

“Crowley, please calm down. I didn’t mean any offense by it. I’m only trying to find a way to help you.”

“No. I’m not—I’m not having this conversation. About atonement. About the Fall. None of it.”

Crowley stood and made an effort to leave the room. He got about as far as the doorway before the distance became too great, and he found himself gripping the doorframe in agony. Aziraphale took his arm, and despite his best attempts to shake him off, the angel’s persistence won out and he was returned to the couch. They were both silent as Crowley slowly relaxed.

“I know this is beyond personal,” Aziraphale began. “It’s why I haven’t asked once in the six thousand years I’ve known you. I always thought that if you wanted to tell me, you would. But I’m afraid that’s a luxury neither of us can any longer afford due to our current predicament and this information’s relevance to it. I enjoy your company quite a lot, dear. However, I think we would both quickly tire of the companionship if we could never travel further than ten steps from one another. And I’m your friend, Crowley. After all we’ve been through, you can tell me anything. So please tell me, what did you do to Fall?”

Crowley continued to sit hunched over from his place on the couch, showing no signs of having heard anything Aziraphale just said. Of course, he had. He just wasn’t sure how to react yet. If he had ever thought this conversation would be happening, he would’ve straight up avoided Aziraphale that day in Eden and on every day after. But it was too late for that, and now here the angel was asking something of Crowley he had never intended to give. 

He would do anything for Aziraphale and had made a point to show it back in 1941. Crossing consecrated grounds to avert a mere discorporation was crazy, yet he would have done it a million times over. Actions were easy. Aziraphale was the focus. Questions were not. Which was really funny to him in a not at all funny way. 

What Aziraphale wanted was something Crowley had been keeping to himself since, well, forever. It was impossible to give, but impossible hardly mattered when Aziraphale was involved. It was impossible for an angel and a demon to be friends. Yet, Aziraphale had said it himself. They were friends. And perhaps that mattered a bit more than keeping secrets. So Crowley decided to share a conversation only God and him had heard before. 

“Look, angel, I really didn’t mean to Fall.” He broke his statue-like stillness to look to Aziraphale. “Really just found myself in a mess I couldn’t get out of.”

They were only a few words that hardly went into the specifics, but they still revealed quite a bit. More than Crowley had ever let anyone else know. That was for sure. For one, that he really wasn’t all that into the doom and gloom schtick Hell promoted. Of course, Aziraphale had already come to this conclusion many, many years ago. A demon could hardly show as much good as Crowley had over the centuries without coming across as a bit less than thrilled with their current employment. Still, this was delicate territory, and Aziraphale definitely recognized that.

“What kind of mess exactly? Would you be willing to tell me the story? Your version of it that is.”

Crowley looked up to the ceiling and bit the interior of his cheek. They were bad memories, and he’d much rather bury them in the back of his mind than share them to rot in Aziraphale’s instead. He didn’t want the angel’s pity or worse, his disappointment, but he had already decided to commit to this.

“Listen, before I tell you any of this, you have to remember that this was a different time,” he began. “Things like betrayal and hate and evil didn’t really exist yet. Wasn’t obvious like they are now. This is what made those things exist. So there’s good reason I didn’t see any of them coming.”

“I’m not going to judge you, Crowley.”

“You say that now.” The demon let out a sigh. “Really this whole mess of horrible events started with a chat with a soon-to-be Satan.”

[Chapter 2]

[queen-asante]

ejucated immigrant

((AUTHOR’S NOTE: @eene-fangirl For the Fanfiction Weekend Challenge! I should probably wait to post this for Rolf Appreciation Month, but there’s a lot of Jonny backstory/headcanons in here, so I thought it would count. Basically, it’s a poem from Rolf’s POV but it’s technically about Jonny, or rather, Jonny was my muse for this.

I haven’t written a poem in Rolf’s ‘’voice’’ since 2014 but believe it or not, that one little line that Edd says in ‘’A Case of Ed’’ inspired the poem (you know, the one), and as I was reading Ntozake Shange’s for colored girls who have considered suicide/ when the rainbow is enuf, it produced said result. A turnip for your thoughts? I don’t normally write Rolf like this, it’s actually more like Rolf emulating Ntozake Shange for those familiar with her style. As an Indian Immigrant girl who’s considered suicide, that book changed my life, she’s my idol. Hence, the poem is written in ebonics and all lower case to pay homage to Shange (and I consciously dropped third person redundancies, it wasn’t a mistake). Three non-EEnE characters are briefly mentioned: the first one is Vanessa, my friend who’s half African-American and half Haitian. The second one is Ice, who belongs to my friend, Dani. Ice, in her world, is a black and white cat who becomes Double D’s pet. Rolf fears him because he’s not only black and white, but he shares the name of Immigration and Customs Enforcement by pure coincidence. Dani didn’t plan this, as she created Ice before she met me but she liked the idea of giving Rolf a reason to fear the cat, and so we came up with that story together. The third one is Dr. Feelgood who was my therapist, it’s not her real name, it was an affectionate nickname I coined for her in my years battling Bipolar Disorder Type 3.

As a closing thought, much apologies for the length, also tumblr’s going to mess up the format.))

‘’ejucated immigrant’’

dear gods,

i be 14 wit skin as rough as treebark & hands dat look old

i waz the dark skined immigrant wanting to bathe in bleach

Brown Black / Blue Black / Amber Beige / Bister Brick Bronze / Chestnut Chocolate Cinnamin

Copper / Drab / Dust / Ginger / Fawn / Ochre / Coffe Colourd Caramel

Tawny / Terra-Cotta / Henna / Sepia / Umbre

lookin in the thesurus eddward wit two ds give me when i come to dis country

everything spell Brown but nothing spell White

White sound nice like pearl like snow like milk like golden skined white skined light skined

honey dipped / lemon kissed / but begging for ivory / fair frosted silvery ashen boy jimmy

your white hands on my brown skin

i waz the dark skined immigrant botherin to drag you round

you stand there like a closed mouth statue & you insult my way of life

think you know everythin / rolf just some ignorant third world peasant or somethin

but we be livin dis way longer than the foundin of your land

your country young my country old

numbers & poppy / it just to give you illegitimately born breeds of donkeys

somethin to hee-haw over / science say there no gods either but who know dat

you cannot contain lightning bugs in a jar

i waz the dark skined immigrant dreamin of shakin the mr presidents hand

the former mr president wit eyes like a tired old man & Brown his Brown like a mud bath

it really too bad you know / rolf like your former president

dat black man who dont check dixtionaries for validation of his blackness

he not so bad / he waz sympathetic to the plight of the immigrant but his hands tied

not blame him / he not god he not have all the power in the world to fix dis weather

dis cloud dat hang over your land & who the hell is perfect?

it really such a shame / i dream to see the Hill / see the pearly house painted white the place where he live meet him shake his large brown hand / one brown hand to another

cept i not black / rolf not have to be / not pass / rolf european he is white not bloodless

he not pass he not be white enough for your country

cept i be white on the inside look coloured on the out but i aint no coloured

under my skin i am more than a colour

whoever herd of white passing for person of colour

but suddenly i get to dis country & i be treated no different than jonny

so alls i got is coloured dreams

poor grate nano lived & died on silly dreams / well they not exist

there be only reality & reality not kind to the dark skined indigenous immigrant

no one know what i supposed to be / take a wild guess

indian pakistani mexican romani rolf herd it all & none suppose right

they only looking at my face / the outside the outside not matter

cuz i waz the dark skined immigrant not italian not irish but the other kinds

& no one will see unless rolf cut open his veins & bleed

a Wood Nymph have my colour & if i check off the box dat say caucasian i get a funny look

from the lady sittin behind the counter wit the yellow nail polish & beaded eyeglass

spose if jonny do the same they wont believe him neither

jonny be good

yous see him dancin / wearin his stomach out / dark skined bare feet / swayin his hips

& grate thin arms but he not care dat he gots splinters in his fingertips

his nails turnin all black & blue & those chapped lips look like eyes starin out atchu

the gods make dis child the way he is

wit skinted knees & all & elbows pointed outwards readin you like a map

always wit the label on the left side

but he bootiful & he know it / beauty sometime come in the empty coffee can

not in the paper lillies or plastic pearls

you cant make a silk purse from a sows ear / even if dat ear be made of wood

of wood widda crayon drawn smile

jonnys mother the madwoman in the attic

rolf be certain jonny the wood boy some kind of elf from the passage of Valhöll

the mother of the Tree Sprite she not like rolf / well she not like any child it seems

weepy jimmy-boy & rolf invited to jonny-boys abode for a meeting of the Urban Rangers

& tho his mother never says so we feel she not like us very well

she never ast us to stay for lunch

even tho rolf personally would not eat a morsel of what these people eat

& we always been so polite to her but still she build walls

rolf believe she jealous of us becuz jonny likes us

she come out to the parlour / barefoot / flowers in her wild tangled mess of black raven hair

like yoko ono & wearing a long paisley skirt / she bootiful in an earthy sort of way

but she has a wild look in her eyes like a tigress

a violently insane expression like a german vampire dat make rolf think of bertha mason

she looms over her son like a dark older sister becuz they look so alike

altho her skin much darker / a deep chocolate brown / her complexion remind rolf of vanessa maybe she is haitian / she like the demon in nanas stories the one we all have widdin us

who comes out when we try too hard to be good children

she look at white as snow jimmy & myself like she disprove

either she not like us the uniforms or both

rolf forget tho these hippies wit their anti-establishment

they think every uniform represents what jonny calls ‘’the Man’’ & dats what it is rolf think

she not want jonny in the organisation

becuz she think it goes against their opposition to social norms

rolf could tell she wanted to ast us to leave / she not like jonny spending so much time wit us

becuz then he not at home meditating wit her or whatever it is they do

jonnys family is strange / they not eat meat & walk around shoeless

rolf has been called a gypsy by the children at school but flower child jonny seem to rolf more of a gypsy if there ever waz such a thing

he is almost ethereal / his family must be from a clan of faeries the kind nana warns rolf about but brown-skinned jonny seem harmless enough

i watch his mama put a daisy in the pocket of his jeans

i not know if his daddy be white or black but what difference does dat make

rolf understand it is important for a child to love their family no matter their faults

i know The Giving Tree still love his mother

even if she would prefer him to leave the Urban Rangers

of us three jimmy be the whitest of white jonny the blackest of black & i somewhere in between

but any one of us can walk into a puerto rican bar & start speakin spanish

& no one would know what we are

race too complicated & people too narrow minded / want everything boxed in

one day we waz layin on dat grassy knoll / jonny & i

where the trees whisper to us & we whisper back

cuz you know the boy talk to trees & i listen to his voice / & i be lookin at our hands you see

cuz we waz layin inches apart a flower between us & i tuck it behind his ear

then i look & see my skin only one shade lighter than his

tho the sun make me browner than i really be

out in the sun for hours & hours plowing & plowing the fields

by sundown i roasted coffee bean brown / as black as the inside of a chimney

& if i stumble into town any passing stranger would think i waz Black i mean African

id have to stay out of the sun for days to get my old colour black lest i wander round wit only the whites of my eyes visible on my sun burnt dyed rust brown brown skin

& hair so course youd suppose it come off a horses ass

lookin more like an American Indian than a White

i holdin the back of my hand up to jonnys now

how bout dat two brown hands one dark & one light but whos to say i not be a dark white & he not a light skined brown

dont you dare tell me what i am & am not

bitch dis aint no south africa where yous all can reassign us based on what you think

i aint no sandra laing but sometime i wouldnt mind bein black if it meant for you to leave me be

in fact ill gladly be whatever you want me to be but i am what i am

not black enough for black not white enough for white so what am i?

dont box me into Black & White / cuz in dis world brother dat not exist

im sorry as hell but i gettin real tired of bein called

an illegal / an alien / a wop / a gypsy / a guinea / a brownie whatever you want to call us

all your bigoted slurs clumping us together like we one & the same

dat fine but papers or no papers not define who i am

so uncle sam can take it & shove it

welcome to america!

i be having a long love affair wit your country & people

i also be having a war wit em

mama told me there are limits for dark skined immigrants stuck in dis light skined first world

we come over the border wit all the rest of them

wit all them people from central & south america

wit all them refugees from africa & asia

guess what we blend right in we look no different

look just like any other brown faced ‘’illegal alien’’

border patrol take one look at us & think we just like the rest

cuz yesterdays europeans are todays mexicans & middle easterners

coloured Sons of Shepherds gots few chances

what it like to be bilingual / to speak in two tounge

ah but to be fluent in one & not the other tryin to find any definishun in the dixtionary

in which i drop third person redunduncies cuz i only one person not three

& i only speak two language

you speak spanish?

no habla inglés

you speak english?

i dont speak spanish

one day the hat & head as one edd boy say oh rolf! youre so unejucated!

i think my ears deseeve me but i know what i herd

i wish to strike his milk honey cheeks full of nonsense

& say to him i am the ejucated immigrant you be warned about

dont talk to me bout ejucashun

i sale cross the oshun

i wash up on your shore

i lern another language

it wasnt easy

what you know bout ejucashun

all you know come from books & theories

at least i know where i stand

you are a child & i am old old old my hands notted thick wit veins like the roots of a tree

you say i sound angry / yea i angry but not as angry as you

cuz there nothing they fear more than a minority who knows what up

i used to be fraid but not no more

i used to fear the plainclothes agents in Black & White uniform

of immigration & customes enforecement / of ICE police

of eddwards Black & White cat name Ice on ICE

he must be making fool out of me to call a domesticated beast after homeland security

a cat in uniform because the gods make him so not by choice

like there be some purpose to it / i waz the dark skined immigrant you made fun of

i see what they do to the undocumented immigrant on the telly  

but now i not be fraid / becuz you cant touch me

so the grapefruit widda red ugly mouth & bleached hair sit in office now

damming all them people from ‘’shithole countries’’ / just as well but we here to stay

it not what i ast for but no use fighting it

& i will gladly pull the bookmarks from my english dixtionary

the one double d edd boy give me

no longer will i bathe in bleach / only use to washing dishes & floors

i not some bloody floor

‘’immigrant’’

at least i can spell dat  / i look it up in the dixtionary

websters dixtionary / who the hell is webster?

but now it marked up used copy wit yellow post it notes

i use it a lot to lern your tounge

i not smart but i sho as hell not unejucated / papa can tell me dat

i be in your country in first place to reseeve ‘’best ejucashun’’ like grate nano wanted

grate nano waz an adventurer / a dreamer wit big goals

he travell far & wide seeking fame & fortune

when he a very young boy immigrants from every cesspool in western & eastern europe set sale for The North / it waz always grate nanos dream to travel North

everyone say he more insane than a bovine wit mad cows disease

there no room in dis life for dreams they tell him / he prove our village wrong

when rolf eight years of age grate nano briefly left the Old Country to set sale for america

everyone say he be too old / he never too old for dreams

he wanted to find dat American Dream he hear so often about

spoken wit fondness by the tinkers who visit our land

he returned from his valiant voyage wit stories about what he seen

in the North  he said everyone has cars & money & television & running water

no one listen / The North the North they say dat is all you ever talk about

he waz a man who dreamed of a new life for his family & so he decided to send for us

& make a better life for ourselves after the plagues of the land had haunted our family for years grate nano promised us america he said youll soon be eating apple pie from off a china plate white picket fence / coca cola / santa clause / marilyn monroe / empire state building

it sound like a fairytale he spun a legend dat the streets waz paved wit gold

& we believed him for shining in grate nanos eye waz a dream & so here we are

rest his soul he wanted so much to buy us light & sun & clean wind of the oshun

‘’immigrant’’ waz a new word for rolf when he first come here

did not know after hearing the stories from grate nano dat he would soon be one himself

rolf not know what dat mean & still really dont

the dixtionary definishun say \ ˈi-mə-grənt \ noun. a person who comes to a country to take up permanent residence

\ ˈi-mə-ˌgrāt \ verb. [to go or remove into; in, into, and migrate, to remove.]

to come into a new country, region, or environment in order to settle there: opposed to emigrate.

oh sorry dat definishun not say we unclean people / flea invested vermin

sickly serpents who not speak english / greaser / sheenie

contagions of american society / incredibly dirty tramps fresh off the boat

so pervasive / such nonwhite filth / staring back at pitch black faces

not blonde haired & blue eyed / nonwhite skin only fit for dirt & waste work

mama papa kiss me goodbye i going to haiti

but it is what rolf is now it part of his identity just as much as the colour of his skin

just as much as bein a pagan / just as much as bein a male

just as much as bein the Son of a Shepherd

now rolf a new man living in the New World

i am an immigrant

sometime i wish i waz shug avery / bootiful fictional dark skin harlem singer

half man half woman / wit my large glittering masculine thighs i make an animal of men

maybe i have the courtesan complex

so i ast dr feelgood what my diag-nonsense

& she say poor soul you suffer from Stressed Shepherd Syndrome

okay so we all crazy in one way or another / it alright for some

of a mannequin in tears / of personal prejudices

im an unejucated farm boy from No Mans Land

im a poet who write in english

neisatnaf i isatnaf ne / ttim tetrejh dem gnyalp re lesgnel og gem tolrof nuh

rettenremmos i sirb ne mos rav ed / gem etlatrof nuh dro retsem nadrovh

etted tal eddejks rofrovh? / enneh lit gem trekided gej og enneh teksnø etrejh ttim

senneh enenyoø ås gej etted tla eddejks rofrovh

& this is for Sons of Shepherds who have considered suicide

fin

[xxtoxicinsanityxx]

we should both do all the questions to the emo q&a!! >w

omg XDD i mean i cant say no 2 that so XD ill put it under a read more tho so i dont clog up u guys feed lol

1. Are you more Scene or Emo?

scene!!! irl i look moar emo tho cuz my hair is just plain black but im a scene kid at heart XP

2. Were you ever into Never Shout Never?

not a whole lot? i liek a few of their songs tho 

3. Fringes or Coontails?

fringe with a coontail X)

4. Bright and colourful hair, or dark black hair?

both! black with colorful streaks!

5. Gloomy bear or Hello Kitty?

hello kitty!!!!!

6. How often do you shop at a HotTopic?

whenever i go 2 the mall lol. p much the only store i go in XD

7. How many band posters do you have up?

none!! and im so sad abt it!!! i have a lot of anime and cartoon posters but no band ones DX

8. Have you watched Invader Zim? If so, who’s your favourite character?

yas!! i luvvv invader zim. dibs my fav tho lol

9. Opinion on Gerard Way?

hes cool? im actually not the biggest mcr fan DX

10. Waffles or Tacos?

wafflezzzzzz

11. Have you played Gaia?

nope XO

12. Dear Maria or Check Yes Juliet?

aaaa i liek both DX dear maria if i rlllyyy had 2 choose

13. Do you drink Monster?

noep im not rlly an energy drink person XO i barely drink soda tbh XD

14. Have you had a scene phase before?

yuppppppp when i was liek 12 lol. this blog is totally what i wished i waz when i waz 12. im finally the scene kid of my dreamz XD

15. Do you make Kandi?

i wish XD

16. Do you wear a lot of Kandi?

not rlly im more of a rubber bracelet kid

17. Do you have a Blingee account? And/or make Blingees?

i do!! ive posted a bunch on here!

18. Are you a furry? If so, what’s your fursona like?

already answered cx

19. Do you listen to BVB, AA, or BMTH?

i only liek a couple songs from all of them lolz

20. Do you have Funko Pops?

ya! i have hiro from big hero 6, and fry and bender from futurama!

21. Do you watch Anime?

yee!

22. Do you play Animal Jam?

nope!

23. Are you okay?

y...yes?

24. Are you Lol Xd Randum??

i think so XD TACO CAT SPELLED BACKWARDS IS TACO CAT XD

25. Opinion on Nyan Cat?

im lov

26. Big hair or big accessories?

big hair XD i wish i could hav actual scene kid hair tbh

27. Did you ever have a MySpace? Do you still?

i havvvvv friendproject which is kinda the same XP

28. Want any emo/scene tattoos?

YAS

29. Have any emo/scene tattoos?

i wish lol. not yet owo

30. Do you like Furbies?

kinda?

31. xD, Xd or XD?

XD

32. Do you like Care Bears?

answered!

33. Is Avril Lavigne a clone?

O.o maybe?

34. Do you want fangs?

OMGZ YES

35. Does emo/scenecore make you happy?

yes!! its fun and lets me be myself lol

36. Have you dyed your hair? If so, what colours and how long ago?

oh ya!!! a bunch of times!! my hairs dyed black rn, ive also done blue, dark blue, red, pink, and red and black!

37. Do you want/have any piercings?

i have 2 in each ear and i rlly want 1 more at the top, and spider bites cx

38. Do you wish you were in a band?

nah im not rlly good at any instruments lol

39. What Warrior Cats clan are you in?

i hav no idea XD i waz nevr a warrior cats kid DX

40. Is Gir annoying?

nooooo!!!!!

41. Have you ever played Imvu?

answered!

42. Are you a Killjoy or a Youngblood?

im so dumb 4 not knowing wat this is >n

43. Do you have any emo/scene friends irl?

GOD I WISH ToT

44. Who’s your favourite scene/emo blog?

answered

45. Do you wear Converse?

ya!! i hav red ones and....one black one that i cant find the other to XD

46. Does “Rawr” mean “I love you” in Dinosaur?

ofc!

47. Favourite Pokemon?

EEVEEEEEEEEEEE

48. Do you like Decora fashion?

ya! its cool!

49. Do you like Sparkle Dogs?

ye!

50. Show us the most emo/scene picture of you!

ive already posted it lol here!

[sicklylittlesnowflake]

Hi, I'm the same person that send you the sick Bones request (it was great!) and I had another idea... I really like the idea of Bones losing his voice, he's always shouting and making sarcastic comments. Kirk making fun of him before realising how ill and miserable his CMO is and forcing him to rest. Thank you, you're awesome!

(Hey anon! I’m so glad you liked your first fic, and this came in the inbox great timing as I just rewatched all three of the JJ Abrams ST movies and I’m in the mood for some Star Trek! I’ve completely forgotten how much I love these characters, and if anyone wants any more ST, hit up the ask!! ^^ also so sorry I’m taking so long with prompts!! Im currently busy with acting things, so I haven’t had the time!!)

The five year mission had been quite slow the past month, and Bones had been relaxed, doing nothing but performing random experiments on new plants and other resources they had found on their expedition.

However one day, a bunch of the crew had been rushed in with injuries, apparently upsetting some species because of some culture thing they weren’t aware of.

It had been hectic, a shock to his system of idleness, and suddenly being thrown into a high stake, stressful situation.

A huge wave of bleeding bodies and broken bones came in, the whole situation distressing. While Bones didn’t like to be too prideful, it was nothing he couldn’t handle. Of course, he had his trusty crew with him.

However, Bones was a human, who got stressed. And lost his temper.

“YOU! What’s so interesting about the ceiling? Does the ceiling have a broken bone?! Well, does it?! No? Well this man over here does, so get your ass over here!”

“Get me the hypospray–no, no dear, that is not a hypospray! This isn’t a guessing game!”

“Oh my god, look at that supreme speed right there, wow, have you seen anyone move with such agility? Hurry up and get me the damn hypospray!!”

Sarcastic comments were also not an odd occurrence for the doctor.

“Doctor McCoy, he appears to be bleeding..”

“OH REALLY?! I was wondering what this sorcery leaking out of his skin was..bleeding you say?! What is this alien process?! How fascinating!”

“Doctor McCoy, this person has a broken arm,”

“That’s great! How about we go dance around it and worship it!”

“Doctor McCoy, this guy has a small cut on their–”

“Welp, they’re gone. What a tragedy. They’re dead. Rest in peace, what a fine life they lead.”

Needless to say, at the end of the day, McCoy was exhausted.

He was suffering from a splitting headache from overworking and stressing, felt weak to the bones (a pun Kirk would make, and he’d yell at him) and his voice was beginning to go.

Just before the end of the day, he received a message from the captain.

“Bones, my dearest friend, how’s everything going down there? Is my crew still alive?” Kirk chirped, knowing fully that there wasn’t anything too serious happening, and even if there was, his doctor was more than capable of making things okay again. He had much faith in their CMO, even if he would never say it to his face.

Bones rolled his eyes, groaning, “No Jimmy boy, you’ve managed to kill them all this time. I’m surprised they’ve lasted this long anyway, I’ve already prepared the funeral arrangements.”

He groaned louder and flopped on his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose, “No, they’re fine, Jim!! Of course they’re fine, I’ve managed to bring you back from the dead, so of course a few broken bones can be healed!”

He could practically hear the captain raising his eyebrow.

“You said I was barely dead..”

“Oh, shut up!” Bones groaned fondly, and turned off the message.

From up at the bridge, Captain Kirk burst into laughter, slapping his knee and all sorts. He stretched on his chair, and yawned, “Well, let’s call it a day folks, tomorrows another day. We’ll see you all tomorrow.”

Gradually, the people on the bridge began to clear out, leaving Pavel Chekov to himself, looking rather worried.

Many of the crew, including Spock and Bones, had developed a slight parental instinct towards their youngest throughout the years. So naturally, when Kirk spotted the teen unmoving and worried he approached him, giving his hair a little shake.

“What’s up, Pasha?”

Chekov blinked, a little startled and smiled sheepishly, “I’m sorry Keptin’–it’s just zat..Ze Doctor seemed wery..his voice was wery hoarse..I wonder if he is becoming ill?”

Kirk blinked, not even realising how hoarse Bones had sounded until Chekov had pointed it out. The kid was really good at detecting and analysing things; and he wasn’t even sure why he was surprised when he was the youngest ever to be put on the enterprise.

He smiled softly,  giving the teen a pat on the back, “Doctor McCoy will be just fine. He always does, he’s..really a trooper. C'mon Pav, it’s been a long day, go and get some rest.”

The Russian nodded, and got up to leave but still wasn’t so sure.

“Doktor?” Chekov’s voice rang out, waking Bones from his half nap. By half nap, he meant that he was half asleep, not quite asleep and not quite awake.

“Mr.Chekov, I swear to god if you’ve broken anything..”

“No! I just..I brought you some tea,” Chekov said shyly, holding the steaming mug in front of him, looking far too adorable for it to be legal.

Bones’s heart burst with the sight before him, wanting to hug the boy for all of eternity but he could not let him know that he was a massive softie. No way.

“Is this your thing, now, kid? Givin’ up your boy genius thing to become a professional..tea guy?”

Chekov blinked, not knowing what to say.

Bones softened, “I’m joking, kid. I appreciate all this, it’s really sweet and all.”

Chekov’s face lit up with a bright, cheerful smile that made Bones momentarily forget about his splitting headache.

“It’s just zat you sounded sick on the message just there–I waz worried, iz all..Doktor, you must rest..”

Bones rolled his eyes at the kid fondly, “I’ll be fine, Mr Chekov. You should too, I promise I’ll head to my quarters too, in just a bit.”

Chekov frowned and crossed his arms, “Last time we had zis conversation you didn’t. It is now my duty to ensure zat you do.”

Bones groaned and huffed, unable to say no to this actual marshmallow fluff child and then got up, “Fine, lets go.”

Chekov’s frown disappeared and instantly resumed the cheery smile as the two walked out, with the Russian whiz kid dropping him off at his quarters. Much to Bones’s disapproval of course, he did not like being treated like a child.

The last time Bones had gotten sick, he had lied to Chekov and didn’t rest like he said he would. So naturally, when Bones actually did, he expected he wouldn’t be sick like the last time.

But of course, he was sick anyway.

Bones walked into the Medbay hacking, coughing his lungs out onto his sleeve. He felt awful, like he was about to collapse into a million pieces and that any second from now, his legs would betray him.

However, he would use his remaining time before his inevitable collapse to look after the patients from yesterday, who needed follow-up treatment and checkups.

The moment Nurse Chapel laid her eyes on Bones, she was off in a hurry, strutting away to send a message to the bridge. She didn’t even attempt to reason with the doctor, knowing full well how annoying and stubborn the man was, and that he’d never in a thousand years listen to her.

There were 3 people Leonard McCoy would give in to, Nyota Uhura, James Tiberius Kirk and Pavel Chekov, all three of which were at the bridge, and she knew at least one of them would come down and deal with this for her. She could not afford to waste time dragging him away!

Just as Bones continued to cough his way through the medbay, through examinations–to which the injured patients were more worried about him than their own injuries–James Kirk decided to make his presence known.

“Goooood morning Medbay! I have learned that your very own CMO sounds like a dying cat on acid at this very moment, and I am here to witness such an event!” He quipped as he strutted in, looking around for Bones.

It didn’t take him long to spot the doctor, and before he could even come 5 feet to him Bones hissed, quite literally like a cat.

Kirk blinked, “Woah shit, the cat on acid is still alive!”

“James, if you come any closer to me I will actually end your life,” Bones said harshly, although there was no real threat to his words. At least that’s what Kirk thought anyway, because he was more focused on how scratchy and hoarse Bones sounded.

“Oh, I will actually end your life,” Kirk mimicked in a silly, raspy voice to mock Bones.

Bones groaned loudly and continued to scan a patients wounds from yesterday, the patient looking awfully terrified of Bones, afraid he would snap and murder someone.

“What’re you gonna do anyway?” Kirk laughed, “Croak me to death? The sound of your nails on a chalkboard voice rupturing my eardrum as I die a long, painful death?”

Bones whipped around to face him for the first time, glaring daggers, “I will, James, watch me. In fact, I really want to right now.”

Upon seeing the doctor’s face, Kirk felt a sudden change in mood. He looked awful, pale, with dark bags hollowing his eyes. In fact, Kirk was beginning to feel a bit bad for being a shit. Bones must’ve felt horrible.

“Woah–uh, you can do that dude, but uh, after you go get rest and stuff. That is why I’m actually here–”

Kirk was cut off by a sudden harsh fit coming from Bones, as the doctor abruptly pulled away from the patient and turned away from both of them, coughing harshly into his fist. Kirk winced at the awfully chesty and painful sounding coughs, watching as his friend convulsed and shaken by the coughs. His entire frame was racked by them, and in fact, it looked like he could no longer support himself and was about to succumb to the illness and faint.

Kirk was at his side in an instant, wrapping a strong, caring arm around the doctor so he wouldn’t fall, steadying his entire frame. He lightly and gently patted his friend’s back, to help with the release of his coughs.

When Bones finished, he was gasping for air, taking a hot minute to recover himself and regain his breathing. Kirk sighed and gave Bones a pat on the shoulder.

“We’re out of here, you can’t be working now. Jesus, I should’ve listened to Pav last night..I know he got you tea and stuff and he got you to rest, but the kid’s too soft. He can’t force you like I can, his hearts too pure for that. I however can fight you tooth and nail,” Kirk smirked.

“You know what else I can do? Take care of you! Not that Pav can’t do that, it’s just his immune system isn’t the greatest and we need our navigator!”

Bones groaned, “You are not taking care of me, Jim! I will not allow it!”

“Who’s the captain here, hmm?” Kirk challenged, raising an eyebrow as he began to walk the doctor back to his quarters.

To his surprise, Bones didn’t say a word, and the journey there was quiet.

When they finally reached their destination, Bones slowly collapsed onto his bed. He instantaneously pulled his covers up and closed his eyes, face scrunching in a headache. Jim frowned at the sight, he looked so weak and sick. He wished he had realised earlier.

“..Ya really are sick, aren’t you?”

Bones opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

Jim widened his eyes, “Shit, should I get Chapel–”

Bones shook his head and took out his PADD, typing out,

“It’s fine. It will come back as I recover. Don’t worry about it.”

Jim relaxed, and gave him a smirk, “Y'know what? I really like this! You not talking..it’s so peaceful..OW!” He pouted as he rubbed the spot on his arm that had been whacked  by the PADD.

Jim glared, “It makes you more violent than usual though.”

Bones typed out: “You don’t have to take care of me, you know.”

Jim rolled his eyes fondly, “Well I am, to show how great I am.”

Bones typed out, “You’ll get sick.”

Jim laughed heartily, “I don’t get sick!”

Bones rolled his eyes and sighed, watching as Jim walked around to find and watch some kind of programme to keep them both occupied, enjoying this company with his best friend. He felt awful all over, and he couldn’t even shout at Jim (one of life’s greatest pleasures), but he felt happy like this, in silent company.