#dreary crowley

[adrianasunderworld]

Idk

[the-weirdos-mind]

First Impressions

My Yuu’s first impressions of some OCs/Yuu’s and her current thoughts about them. Note that it took Estella a while to open up to them as she’s shy and had past experiences with bullying with some people pretending to be her friends but only to ditch her.

Isabelle Rosa

First meeting: Estella thought that Isabelle was a bit shy like her and really nice and seemed to pick up the vibe that she’ll help others in need

Now: Estella now sees Isabelle as one of her best friends other than the first years. She goes to her to read books with her and get mad at character death’s together

Dreary Crowley

First meeting: Estella thought that Dreary was bubbly and cheerful and sweet

Now: Estella sees Dreary as a good friend of hers. She definitely introduced her to the pastel goth look as she thought she could pull it off

Drew

First meeting: Estella thought that Drew was also shy but could flip the switch from sweet to the complete opposite if messed with

Now: Estella sees Drew as an older cousin figure and good friend. She goes to her if she needs help with styling her hair

Freya Grimoire

First meeting: Estella was imitated by Freya, she sensed that if the wrong button was pushed then you’d regret it

Now: Estella sees Freya as a bit of a older sister figure. She goes to her for fashion advice and if she needs backup in a fight

Mia d’Angelo

First meeting: Estella thought that Mia was a really innocent and nice child

Now: Estella sees some of her younger cousins in Mia and looks after her in her own way. I definitely see Mia giving Estella spicy chicken nuggets while she give her a cupcake in return

Darling Crowley

First meeting: Estella thought that Darling was like Wednesday Addams, can and will kill you in your sleep if you make her mad

Now: Estella sees Darling as another best friend. She also goes to her fashion advice and help for any school work that she’s struggling with

Fayte Lyfie

First meeting: Estella thought that Fayte would be another version of Vil but meaner

Now: Estella sees Fayte as a good friend and even introduces him to some rock and metal bands from her home world. She also goes to him for any music recommendations

Minako Sakamaki

First meeting: Estella was worried about Minako’s mental health and thought she was bipolar or something

Now: Estella sees Minako as a good friend. She goes to her to help create some good comebacks

Isabelle and Dreary belong to @adrianasunderworld

Drew belong to @mangacupcake

Freya and Mia belong @writing-heiress

Darling and Fayte belong to @marrondrawsalot

Minako belong to @anxious-twisted-vampire

[rose-tea-and-strawberries]

So for some reason 'funeral roast' videos came up on my YouTube recommended feed and now I've got this idea of Ace, Deuce, Yuu, Grim and the Ramshackle ghosts hosting a funeral roast for Crowley (there's no casket and the 'eulogies' are given in the Ramshackle living room next to a horribly drawn portrait that was scribbled on an A4 sheet of paper with a biro).

The still living solemnly give the most burning, salt-filled tributes of the headmaster wearing all black funeral garb (Yuu even has a large hat with a veil and is dabbing their eyes with a lacy black handkerchief) with dreary organ music playing out of Deuce's speaker and the ghosts give their own commentary.

The video is uploaded onto Ace's magicam and goes viral in an hour. Professor Trein plays it to himself and Lucious every night before bed.

[oepionie]

—"MY DUMBASS SOPPING WET CAT" leona kingscholar

🎸masterlist | 💬ao3 link

synopsis: "are you insane?! look at you! you're soaking wet!" "i don't care. i had to come see you." in the middle of a stormy night, you hear knocking at your door and find leona standing outside your dorm in the pouring rain. it seems that he has a question for you.

⊹ [ cw ] — passing mention of freezing◞

⊹ [ tags ] — FLUFF.GN! READER | soft leona agenda, mutual pining, kissin◞

⊹ [ w.c ] — 800+◞

Thunder rattles the ground as a bright white flare lights up the dreary dark halls of Ramshackle. The rain pattered against the roof while you and Grim huddled in a blanket. Both of you were watching a soap opera on TV, waiting for the storm to pass.

Grim had long since dozed off to dreamland, snoring quietly, but you stayed up, far too engrossed in the family drama on TV.

As you grabbed the remote to play the next episode, the last thing you expected was to hear a knock on the door.

Now, cats were notorious for hating water, you were pretty sure of that. Those furry little balls of fluff loathed being hit by even a single drop of rain.

So, why in the Twisted Wonderland was Leona Kingscholar standing outside your dorm in the middle of a pouring storm?

Leona's hands were buried in the jacket he somehow had managed to grab in his haste. He kept his attention fixed to his feet as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Bout time you opened the door, herbivore."

"Are you insane?! Look at you! You're soaking wet!" Dumbfounded, you pulled Leona into your dorm and ran to fetch him a towel. The lion followed your retreating form with a paralyzed gaze, uncharacteristically silent.

Was running through the rain really worth it just to see you? He debated just making a run for it. The entire thing had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, anyway. However, before he could do anything, you returned and tossed a fluffy towel over his head. Leona took it into his hands, draping it over his shoulders.

"C'mon. You're making my doormat soggy." You grumbled, nose scrunching up as you pulled the lion into your dorm.

Leona slams the door shut behind him. He pulls you back by the collar of your shirt, dragging you to stagger back until your back was pressed up against the wall. He rests one hand beside your head and uses the other to lift your chin up towards him.

"What are we?" Leona mutters whilst staring at you, taking his merry time to take in every little feature on your face. His expression was contemplative, apprehension swimming in his eyes.

"I dont know-Rivals?" You snort, laying a head on his shoulder. Leona looks down at you with an annoyed expression. Chuckling, you peer up at him through your lashes. "What do you want us to be?"

He stays silent and stares at your lips, glancing back up at you for permission. You nod and he wraps a muscular arm around your waist. Your hands grip the fabric of his shirt, tugging on it slightly as you lean up to reach him. Leona cranes his neck and meets you halfway. He kisses you sensually, moving his hand down to rest around your neck and holding your hand with the other. You pull back and Leona chases after your lips. Giggling, you press the back of your hand against his mouth.

"Woah there, tiger. You're still cold and drenched. Let's go to the living room."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"That really all you have? Crowley didn't have anythin' better to give you?" Plopping down on the couch, Leona scoffed as he watched you drag a bulky heater over. Sighing, you pat the rusty metal. "Deadbeat crow-dad, remember?"

While you fumbled with the old switches, he took a mental note to gift you a new one soon. Old-fashioned tech like that isn't reliable enough to keep you warm during the winter - you could end up freezing to death. It was a situation he wanted to avoid at all costs, especially now that you've wormed your way into his heart.

Finally, after some tinkering, the heater buzzed to life. You clapped your hands, the giddy grin on your face making Leona's lips curve into a small smile. Cute.

"Anyways. Look at you. How much of a dumbass do you have to be to run through a storm like that?" You huffed, hands on your hips as you looked down at him.

The creaky worn down couch was already starting to darken and soak up the rainwater on his clothes. Leona fumbled with his hands, gaze moving to his feet.

"I don't care. I just-" He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. "I had to come see you." 

"Why's that?" You questioned, raising an eyebrow at him. Leona blinked. Even he wasn't sure. 

He hadn't expected to feel as strongly about you as he did. These were the kinds of things he thought a person like him was too rough around the edges for. It drove him wild and caused him to daydream about mushy lovey-dovey things he'd never considered before. Despite that, he wasn't ready to fully admit it yet, and somehow, he thinks you knew.

"You always have to ask dumb questions. I just fucking wanted to." Leona scoffed, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face into your stomach. His eyes fluttered shut as you stroked your deft fingers over his damp hair, undoing the knots and tangles with care. Snorting at the lion, you poked his cheek and jeered at him.

"Dumbass."

"Your dumbass, at least."

Likes and Reblogs are greatly appreciated and really motivating on my end!

Taglist: @keedas @spadecentral @crypticbibliophile @pastellepastary @cassidycampfire @cocomollo @poisoniousheart @anonima-2 @kawaiipotatoghost ↳ want to be added?

[uniquethingtastemaker]

Neige x Reader: White Beaches and a Spring Morning

Summary: The Ramshackle prefect is finally able to get a full week off from school after four overblots. Determined to enjoy their time to the fullest off campus, they set out to explore Sage’s Island, starting with the island’s southern beaches. However, it seems that our prefect can never catch a break, as they find an RSA student crying and upset. Unable to just look away, they set their sights on comforting him and helping him have a good time outside of school.

Word count: just under 3k

Tags: fluff, getting together (not officially though), dates, romance

Warnings: none… unless suave reader is a warning… reader being too hot lol

Author’s notes: this was inspired by a tumblr post by @sorbertisfruity and I loved it so much that I decided to start writing it. Also this is my first time I’m actually writing and posting my creative work, so I just ask that people are kind. Thanks and enjoy!

Leaning forward with the wind whipping through your hair, you fly down the mountain path away from Night Raven College. The engine of the magic wheel roars behind you, as music blasts from the speakers. Finally, you were free! After months of work, you finally got a week off. Of course, you had to blackmail Crowley by threatening to expose the multiple overblots. Nonetheless, he conceded to your requests in the end. Now, you’ve left your worries and Grim temporarily behind in favor of a relaxing day at the beach. 

Pulling up to the sandy shore, you park the magic wheel you’d borrowed from Ignihyde and look out at the sight before you. It was a nice change of scenery compared to the dreary mountain Night Raven College sat atop of. The morning was crisp and clear with the sea breeze wafting from the ocean. The beach was empty. You were here on a weekday after all. You grab your bag from one of the compartments and head off toward the tide.

The sandals on your feet sink slightly into the sand as you search for a more secluded area to place your bag. After walking along the coast, you catch a glimpse of NRC’s rival school, the Royal Sword Academy. It was almost blinding with its tall white spires that were tipped with blue. Overall, the vibe is much brighter than NRC’s gothic horror aesthetic.

“Wonder what their facilities are like,” you murmur to yourself, “Maybe I can secretly get a tour of the school and request a transfer while I’m at it.”

You chuckle at the thought of your friends’ outrageous reactions to your fictional transfer. Just as you finish the thought, you hear a loud sob. Furrowing your brow, you pick up your pace. Even on your day off, you never catch a break, you internally sigh. You blame your upright and well-meaning nature, but you shrug off the thought as you come across an alcove in the rocks. 

You find a boy huddled up against the stone, sobbing to himself. He’s wearing a familiar white uniform jacket, signifying that he’s from the Royal Swords Academy. You’re unable to see his face as he’s tucked it into his knees. Only his ruffled black hair shows. Next to him lies a black beret and the dirt and skid marks on his uniform make it obvious he ran out of the academy. 

Coming closer to the cave-like area, your footsteps are masked by the sound of soft waves lapping against the coast. 

“Hey,” you call out, “Are you alright?”

The boy’s head snaps up. He stumbles to his feet and begins making rapid apologies. His voice has a light, airy quality to it that cracks as he trips over his words. 

“I—I’m fine. Thank you for asking. I—I should probably go. I don’t want to bother you—“ 

He isn’t able to say anything more, as his foot catches on a nearby rock and he begins tumbling forward with a squeak. Moving on instinct, you catch him by the waist, pulling him in to support his weight. Pressed up against him, you note that he has a slim but fairly toned waist. He’s also a bit taller than expected. 

“Are you ok?” You ask, “That was pretty close. It might be a good idea to sit down for a while before moving again. Sorry, I startled you. I was just concerned whenever I heard someone in distress.”

Pulling away slightly, you’re able to get a glimpse of his face. His eyes are the first feature that stands out to you. They’re soft, doe-like, and innocent. His brown eyes are a little puffy and red around the edges from crying, but it doesn’t detract from their soft allure. Your eyes flicker down toward his lips. They’re tinted a natural red, as he chews on them. Suddenly, you become acutely aware of how close the two of you are. You can feel his ragged breath on your cheek, as you take the time to observe him.

He glances down and away from you, tears still in his eyes, as continues to gnaw on his lip. Whether from the anxiety of being caught crying or the flustered embarrassment of being so close, you’re not sure. You suspect it might be both. However, when he turns his cheek, the light catches a glimmer of wet tears that have already streaked down his face. Before you have time to think, you reach your hand up to cup his cheek and wipe it away. 

Blinking, you realize that you just performed a somewhat intimate gesture and you move your hand away. 

“Sorry, I just wanted to help. Did I make you uncomfortable?” You ask.

He stares at you with wide eyes and touches the place where you wiped his tears with his hand.

“…No, I didn’t mind it.” 

His voice breaks, then in a smaller tone, he comments, “It was nice.”

“That’s good,” you chuckle, “My name’s (Y/N), and you?”

He hesitates for a second before replying, “Neige.”

He watches your reaction intently, looking for any signs of recognition, but when there is none, he relaxes slightly. 

“I wouldn’t mind sitting down again,” he tells you. 

He starts to pull away to sit back down when you tighten your grip on his waist, stopping him. 

“Hold on, I have a towel. Let me lay it down first,” you state. 

Rummaging through your bag, you pull out a towel that you stole from Heartslabyul. The print on the fabric is a dead giveaway. It’s littered with multicolored card suits. Spreading it out, you plop down on the fluffy towel and turn to Neige, who comes to sit next to you.

“Again, sorry for scaring you earlier. I just heard you were in distress and wanted to make sure you were ok,” you repeat, inspecting for any physical wounds. “Physically, you seem fine. Are you in emotional distress?”

Playing with the edge of the towel, he glances up at you before looking away. His grip tightens on it and he nods. 

Neige hesitates before saying, “You know, if you have other places to be, you can go do those. You don’t have to stay with me. I’ll be fine–”

Before he can get any further, you cut him off, “Neige, I know we just met, but I’m not going to leave someone who’s upset behind. You seem sweet and I want to get to know you. It would be nice to get a new friend.”

You put a hand on his shoulder to reassure him. He looks up at you with wet eyes and hiccups slightly, trying to hold back newly formed tears. Your eyes go wide and your body moves on autopilot. You open your arms to offer a hug. 

“Hey, do you want a hug? Will that make you feel better?”

Neige hesitates before nodding. Given your cue, you envelop him in a warm, tight hug. Cradling him, you rub small circles on his back and whisper words of comfort. 

He breaks. Any semblance of wariness or guard that he had up before crumbles against your kindness and small persistence. He cries so hard that his whole body shakes against you. You squeeze tighter and you can tell that you are the only thing keeping him together at this moment. He ends up clinging and clawing at you as if you’re his only lifeline in the vast ocean. He sobs harder at your gentle approach to comforting him and a few broken words of gratitude spill from his mouth. 

“—Thank you, thank you so much. I never— I never got this growing up. I always had to put on a cheerful face to not worry my— my family. This means so much to me. Thank you, thank you (Y/N).”

You clutch him tighter, running a hand through his hair, as he sobs into your shoulder. You feel for him. You understand the struggles of having to carry everyone else’s burden even though it shouldn’t be your responsibility in the first place. You ended up solving and resolving each overblot with only some of your classmates and practically no teachers. No responsible adults were around to help fight Riddle, restrain Leona, stop Azul, and punish Jamil. It had been getting exhausting. Thankfully, you got a week to yourself, but this wasn’t about you and you turned your attention back on your new friend, Neige. 

You allow him to get all the tears, sorrow, and pain out of his system. When his sobbing slows down and his breathing starts to even out, you reach into your bag to pull out some tissues, nudging Neige’s face with them. 

Upon feeling the tap, he looks up from where his face was buried in your shoulder. Tears and snot run down his face, and he takes the tissues with a small smile. 

“Thanks,” he breathes, taking the tissue and blowing into it.

After giving him some water, snacks, a lot of tissues, and more cuddles, he’s much more relaxed than he was earlier. His tired eyes are unable to focus on anything specific, as they flutter to stay awake. He continues to lean on you for support.

Chuckling, you ask, “Wanna lay down?”

Letting out an almost incoherent murmur of approval, he clutches onto your clothes, before asking, “Promise you won’t leave?”

You give him a soft smile that he’s unable to see with his eyes closed, and you lay the two of you down on the towel. You rest beside Neige, as he makes himself comfortable, nestling into your arms. 

“Of course, Snow,” you answer, “I’ll make sure to protect you if anything is out to get you.”

He nuzzles into you with a smile filled with sweet dreams, as he drifts off to sleep. After a while of listening to the ocean waves lap against the shore and feeling the slow steady breathing of the person next to you, you also find yourself lulled into the land of dreams.

~~~~~~

“You’re already skipping school. You might as well take the day off to relax and enjoy yourself,” you persuade, “Besides, would you leave your new friend behind to hang out at the beach by themselves?”

You look at Neige with playful and expectant eyes. He lets out a sigh and a small smile slips through, as he concedes. 

“I suppose taking one day off wouldn’t hurt.”

You give a cheer.

“Race you to the ocean!” you shout, scrambling to your feet. 

Neige squeaks in surprise, before he latches onto your ankle, tripping you. Landing on your hands with a small oof, Neige rushes past.

“Ok, pretty boy! I see how it is,” you cackle. 

Launching yourself from the ground into a runner’s sprint, you catch up to him. Wrapping your arms around Neige’s waist, you use your momentum to spin him around a couple of times before flinging him in the opposite direction of the coast. He screeches at the unexpected attack and begins laughing as he stumbles back, trying to regain his balance. Without hesitation, you turn back to the destination and bolt toward the finish line. 

The tempered ocean water hits your feet, slowing you down, as you raise your fists and cheer.

Neige jogs over with a stuttering laugh.

“Alright, alright, you win. Are you happy?” He asks with a grin.

“Immensely,” you beam.

~~~~~~

“We’ll have a [favorite ice cream/gelato flavor] and biscoff gelato, please,” you order from the ice cream parlor you found. 

The man behind the counter nods with a smile and begins scooping out your request. Neige’s eyes are wide as they turn to you.

“You don’t have to pay for mine,” he insists, pulling out his wallet. 

You stop his movements by putting a hand over his.

You hold eye contact with him, as you say, “I like and want to spoil you. You’re sweet, so getting you something sweet only makes sense. Please let me do this.”

Neige’s face heats up and you watch his brain malfunction for a few seconds, before turning away. You take the opportunity to pull out your card and give it to the owner of the shop, paying for your snacks. 

“That’s so sweet of you to pay for your boyfriend like that,” the owner comments, swiping your card.

Grinning, you wrap an arm around Neige’s waist, tugging him closer to you. 

“Yeah, he doesn’t treat himself that often, so I have to make sure he gets what he deserves,” you answer, winking at Neige.

Neige’s hand rushes to cover his blush as it spreads to the tips of his ears. The owner coos at you two, handing you your ice creams and card. You thank him on your way out, still attached at the hip with a flustered Neige. 

~~~~~~

The magic wheel zooms through the streets of Sage’s Island, and the sun casts a golden glow on you and Neige. He’s pressed right up against your back, clinging onto your waist. It’s warm and comforting. You’ve been riding aimlessly together for about half an hour, but seeing the sun setting, you figure you should take him home. 

Sneaking a glance at your companion, you watch his wide-eyed gaze explore the mountainous scenery. You smile before speeding up. You feel Neige’s chest move with twinkling laughter. He squeezes you tighter and leans in. Today has been a far better day than expected.

The sun has partially set in the sky as you pull up to the gates of the Royal Swords Academy. Putting the vehicle in park, you dismount the wheel, before offering your hand to help Neige off. 

“Here you go, sweetheart,” you say with a wink. 

Neige’s breath catches, as a hand comes to block his mouth in embarrassment. He places his other hand in yours, using it to get off. With both feet on the ground, he looks at you like you’ve hung the stars in the sky. You might as well have, you note, as the stars begin to peek out.

“When will I see you again? I want to see you again,” he pleads.

You blink in surprise at such a bold statement, before chuckling. 

“Well, I can come back tomorrow if you want me to. You know I have the week off,” you offer with a fond smile.

“Really?! You would do that? That wouldn’t ruin your vacation, would it?” he clarifies at a rapid pace.

You laugh, leaning against the magic wheel. 

“Honestly, Neige, if I didn’t leave NRC’s campus, I’d probably get dragged into some kind of shenanigans with Ace, Deuce, and Grim,” you explain, “I love them, but they’re a handful and I want a break. I would much rather hang out with you. It’s more peaceful and relaxing. Besides, I had a lot of fun today and I like getting to know you.” 

Neige’s mouth opens in a small oh, as his gaze softens. He clasps his hands in front of his heart, simply gazing at you. For a few moments, you just hold each other’s gaze, content and comfortable in the silence. You reach out to tuck a loose strand of hair away from Neige’s face. You let your hand linger, cupping his cheek and rubbing your thumb against it. His eyes droop and he nuzzles into your hold. Unable to resist, you draw him closer and loop an arm around his waist, before remembering–

“Your beret,” you murmur, “Let me get it for you.”

Moving to open one of the compartments on the magic wheel, you grab Neige’s hat only to settle back into the space in front of him. Placing the beret on his head, you let him adjust it. As he finishes, you notice unfamiliar red lettering along the border. Leaning in, you take a closer look.

“Someday my princess will come,” you quote.

Smiling, you continue, “Mmm, that’s cute. That sounds like something you would say, Neige.”

Your thumb runs over the embroidery, following every swirl of cursive on the beret. Your eyes flicker down to his to realize that you’re rather close. You can’t help but take a peek at his lips. They’re red, just like when you first met him, but this time they're slightly parted. You find yourself locking eyes with Neige’s brown ones once again, drawn together like magnets. Neige presses his body more snugly against you, watching for any signs of discomfort, as he rests his hands on your hips. You play with his lapel, before moving up to his shoulders and finally wrapping your arms around his neck. You give a playful smile, as you draw closer, and you feel Neige’s quiet laughter against your lips. Eyes sliding shut, you lean in. 

Before you can kiss, however–

“Neige, Neige! There you are!” 

“Do you know how much you made us worry?”

“We couldn’t find you after you ran out of the dorm– *achoo*!”

“And you–you left your phone at the dorm, so we had no way to contact you!”

“We looked everywhere in the academy, *yawns* even my favorite napping place.” 

“I can’t believe you skipped class. You should take us next time.”

“Toby, what are you talking about? We’re not supposed to skip class.” 

“Oops, sorry, I forgot.”

Neige lets out a whine, as his head falls against your shoulder. With the moment ruined, he hugs your waist tighter in protest. Laughing, you pat the poor boy’s shoulder, rubbing it soothingly. You take a look past him to identify the source of the shouts.

You spot seven short figures toddling their way over to the two of you from RSA’s gates. You’re unable to make out the fine details in the diminishing light, and instead opt to look back at Neige, his pitiful form still draped over you. These must be the seven dwarves that he was talking about earlier; the ones he grew up with. Based on their behavior, they seem to care about him just as much as Neige expressed his love and concern for them. You squeeze Neige tighter, grateful that he has a secure support network. He’s already been through a lot just based on what he’s told you so far.

Neige lets out another groan of despair, as you turn your full attention back towards him. Feeling a bit playful, you bring your face right next to his ear.

“I won’t let you go without a little something,” you tease.

Neige perks up, looking at you with wide and attentive eyes.

You chuckle at his reaction, murmuring that he’s cute, before leaning in to place a kiss on his cheek. He melts into your touch, gripping your waist tighter. Pulling away, you tap your own cheek with a quick wink. In the dim light, you’re barely able to make out the flush spreading across his face. His Adam's apple bobs, before he leans in to place a gentle kiss on your cheek. You giggle, and after a few seconds pull away.

“Enough to tide you over?” you question.

“...Barely,” he whispers, still stuck in the same spot, star-struck. 

“I trust your friends will make sure you get to your dorm safely?” you confirm, starting up the engine of the magic wheel. 

He nods.

“Good,” you smile, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Snow.”

“See you tomorrow, (Y/N),” he replies, before shaking out of his stupor and calling out, “Make sure to get home safe!”

You laugh, as you leave the Royal Swords Academy… at least for today.

“Thanks! Will do!” 

You’ll be back tomorrow. 

[aziraphales-library]

Hello! First of all I absolutely adore your blog! I recently found it through a friend and it’s been so helpful! I was wondering if you could find me some fics with snake Crowley? Like where it’s focuses on his snakey features, like his eyes or hiss, and he’s insecure about it. Thank you so much!!

Hi! We have plentiful #snake crowley, #naga crowley, #crowley's eyes and #insecure crowley tags, so do check those out. Here are some to add to the collections...

Snake by DaisyFairy (G)

Staying with Aziraphale after the failed apocalypse would have been perfect, if it weren't for a little secret that Crowley has been keeping for 6 thousand years.

The Vices Kept Close To Our Vests by thehedonistspurge (G)

Crowley would think that he for one, would have figured out all of his vices by now. Well, apparently he hasn’t. At least not the vices pertaining to Aziraphale. Or the one where Crowley goes so long without reverting to his snake form that he turns at the most inopportune time.

Winter Chills and Angel Sleeves by SerpentineTraveler (G)

It's winter, its cold. Crowley is not prepared. On the way to the bookshop the chill gets to him and he cannot fight his snakey nature, and the Bookshop is warm and so is Aziraphale.

Pancakes for Little Snakes by pandafarts (T)

After Crowley scolds some rowdy demon underlings, they get the drop on him with a spell designed to weaken Demons. To conserve his now limited energy, he turns himself into a very small snake, who Aziraphale is delighted to take care of as he regains his strength. Or the fic where Crowley is so small and cute that Aziraphale can't help it, or his urge to make him pancakes without miracling them.

That Time of The Year by rainbow_salt (T)

Crowley has to show Aziraphale his snake side when his tail gets stuck during a particularly rough shed.

the mortifying ordeal of being a snake demon by xwithlovemdx (T)

"Crowley woke up, on a dreary Sunday in November, to the beginnings of scales breaking out on his inner right wrist." Crowley indulges some long-ignored reptilian urges. Aziraphale frets. Shenanigans ensue.

- Mod D

[ticklishfiend]

A Joint Effort (Good Omens)

(lee!crowley / ler!aziraphale)

Summary : in which aziraphale and crowley created tickling together many years ago (alt. and reminisce on it many years later)

a/n : lowkey this is very conversational abt tickling but i do (personally) love a fic that discusses the topic :D there is tickling tho dw LOL i just wanted to write some tickly dialogue

word count : 4065

hope u enjoy! pls consider giving a reblog if u liked it <33

. . .

A lot of things went through Crowley’s mind as he gazed at that all too familiar lake. Mainly all the times he and Aziraphale met here to discuss their “private affairs,” a secret team-up only one angel, one demon, and dozens of ducks could know about.

More recently it was all that dreary “end of the world” business he’d quite frankly prefer to Men In Black himself out of remembering (by the way, what a fantastic film that one was, the humans couldn’t have been both more far off and somehow right on the nose with it). The lake was lucky it was still so pretty after all these years, otherwise he’d have stopped visiting after everything resolved itself some time ago.

Humans had a phrase for what he tended to do alone on the bench. “People-watching,” they call it. Such a funny phrase considering it’s technically been his job since the creation of man itself. Maybe that’s why he enjoyed doing it so much. Technically, it’s kinda what he was made for.

He listened as a man adjacent to him across the lake was thinking and thinking his little head off. The man pondered over a woman, a lover Crowley presumed, and apparently how good their date had gone last night. Crowley noticed him fiddling with something in his pocket. Oh yes, a ring. What a disgustingly adorable tradition.

Crowley tapped his ring finger against the bench with an unknown impatience.

He saw that close by, a woman made her way towards the man (ah wait, it’s the woman, he could hear the man’s heart rate pick up and blood sloshing towards his cheeks, kinda gross how their bodies betray them), her hand finding his as she laid her head down on his shoulder. Crowley’s throat made a funny sound as he crossed his arms.

Crowley didn’t care much for the conversation, much more of an observer than a listener. Out of habit, he almost sent an evil little miracle their way, a “no” from the woman catching at his fingertips and becoming clenched in his fist. Actually…this might be the first successful proposal he’ll ever witness. He can hear the yes before she’s even said it, so much love radiating between them it's like radiation to his skin.

But he wants to see this play out. Just because he actually can now. Yeah…trying new things and all.

So it plays out just like the movies. He gets down on one knee, she cries, yadayadayada, blahblahblah. But this time, Crowley can actually feel it. This isn’t like seeing it through the screen. Those emotions become one with the air, making the whole park’s atmosphere thick and sugar-scented. It makes his skin crawl. Or he got goosebumps. He can't tell for sure, maybe it’s all one and the same.

He keeps watching the couple, telling himself he’s invested like one would stare at a car crash (even though nothing about this is a wreck at all, it’s a tad beautiful and Crowley knows this, but there’s still something so wretched about how his eyes stay glued to that spot across the lake).

They keep giggling and kissing, snapping a few photos of the moment and basking in each other. The man lifts the woman and twirls her around, her sun dress twirling with her and making the scene look so…ugh, romantic.

Or…just romantic. Maybe there’s no need to groan so hard at that.

Then the woman does something that snaps Crowley out of his little haze (call it jealousy and Crowley will treat your legs like snap peas). She pokes and squishes around her new fiancés sides, and said fiancé begins to giggle. The woman gave the man a tickle.

Tickling is far from a new concept to Crowley. Actually, he may have had a little hand in creating it. It wasn’t his idea exactly, he didn’t sign off on the paperwork or anything, but let’s just say laughter wasn’t the first possible noise option. He thought it’d be a bit more creative if there was less screaming in hell from time to time.

Most people would probably assume tickling came straight down from above, a place of innocence and love and, yeah, laughter. Others may even say it’s a hellish creation, but those tended to be the ones that drew the short end of the ticklish stick (that is to say, they’re probably really fucking ticklish).

But honestly, this one was kind of a joint effort. Is the paperwork technically written on a heavenly scroll? Sure, yeah. But who was the one that signed off on that scroll in the first place?

Well, Aziraphale did always have such an obnoxiously perfect signature.

Near the beginning, Crowley had overheard some demons discussing new torture methods for the humans to use on each other, something easy that required less machinery on their part. One brainstorm talked of the humans being able to do nothing but poke at their enemy to get them howling in pain.

And, well, Crowley thought that sounded laughably absurd.

So the next time he saw Aziraphale on Earth, he gossiped like usual. Talked of how stupid it sounded, how the humans would get so out of hand using it they’d never get anything productive done. And of course, Aziraphale agreed (though he was at first quite shocked a demon was against any brainstormed torture method, no matter how ridiculous).

Together they devised a little scheme. Nothing major, just something to beat the demons to the race. They had to though, right? It’d just be stupid to ruin something as precious as humanity over a few pokes.

So, instead of screaming in pain, the humans would scream in laughter. It wouldn’t hurt, unless the human was too rough of course, and really the worst it could do was embarrass the victim (except when Crowley snuck in that sometimes they may wet themselves, as a silly little gag. Aziraphale may have been too distracted trying to find a mysterious, strangely itchy dark feather in his garments when he wrote that one). It was such a silly invention, and Aziraphale even felt a little embarrassed bringing it to Gabriel, but oh how the other angels adored it. It was a new game for their humans to play, to occupy and fill the time of their short useless existences. It was a perfect time-waster.

And so became tickling. A joint project created by Crowley and Aziraphale, one of the first little schemes they pulled together that only dipped their toes into everything that came after. And now Crowley got to watch as his invention created a positive memory for some random romantics at his favorite park.

It was weird. He’s never felt funny about tickling before, but since he and Aziraphale have gotten rather…um, close recently, seeing this couple be all flirty and affectionate and tickly was making him feel funny feelings about it he’s never felt before.

He’s not blushing. That’s a human thing. He’s just…warm.

Crowley shakes his head, emptying his mind of all that weird mushy shite. He brings his eyes back to the couple, seeing them kiss and talk and bask in each other’s otherness. Part of him made that happen, in some cosmic butterfly effect sort of way.

Maybe everything is a circle, just as they say. Like it’s all meant to be. One particular word stings at his tongue, he’s heard it a thousand times before out of Aziraphale’s mouth when the subject of a great plan is brought up. He’ll just have to save it for when his angel comes back around.

…

—( alt : s2 ending never happened and crowley goes back to the bookshop afterward and everything is fine and dandy and happy :D )

…

The bell above the bookshop’s door rang a familiar chime when Crowley stepped through, announcing his presence to the one and only being it should matter to. He practically beelined for the drapes, figuring it far too bright for a cozy bookshop even with his sunglasses on.

Crowley heard behind him the soft angelic clunk of each foot making their way down the staircase, the room brightening on its own as Aziraphale made his way down.

“Well that wasn’t a very long outing,” Aziraphale rounded into the main area, cup of tea in hand. “Did something happen?”

Crowley dusted the drapes with his hands, “Such a worrywart, you are,” spinning around and brushing his hands as he met eyes with the one on his mind all afternoon. “The park just got boring, don’t get your knickers in a twist.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes, “Excuse me for noticing that you’re home earlier than usual,” he muttered, taking his next sip with attitude. “But since you’re back so soon, maybe we could…hang out, as the youth say,” he smiled that thin-lipped smile, and Crowley groaned in the back of his throat, following Aziraphale towards the back room (yknow, the one with the couch that Crowley can stretch his legs on as long as he needs and nothing ever feels uncomfortable).

“Grahk, angel, there’s a reason that only the youth should be saying these things. Sounds…unnatural, on your tongue,” Crowley plopped down on his favorite couch, his hand in Aziraphale’s (he’s not even sure when that happened, but who is he to complain?) leading him down to the spot next to his. Aziraphale did a wiggle as he sat, like getting the cushion ready for him.

“I like integrating new shortened language into my vocabulary,” Aziraphale pouted behind his cup.

“Helps me understand everyone better.”

Crowley tutted, “Okay, well, one: it’s not called “shortened language” anymore, you boob. They say slang now. If you don’t even know the word slang, you definitely shouldn’t be using it in the first place,” Crowley propped his feet up on Aziraphale’s lap, the only acknowledgment of his position being Aziraphale’s zero hesitation in using his shins as an armrest. “And two: you already have the most extensive vocabulary on the planet. You can know all the words and phrases you like, but I doubt you’re in dire need of any new ones to use.”

Aziraphale sat his glass down on the coffee table, leaning against Crowley’s legs. “I think you’re just jealous. Envy is one of the seven sins, correct?”

Crowley merely huffed, throwing an arm against the couch’s own and propping his cheek against his hand. He gazed a bit longingly at the angel, who seemed more interested in picking lint off his trousers at the moment. “Saw something at the park I thought you’d like.”

Aziraphale’s ears perked, but more or less remained focused on grooming Crowley’s pants. “Oh?”

“Want you to guess.”

That caught his attention, an annoyed glare thrown Crowley’s way. “I hate this game.”

“Naaaah you love it. Cmon, guess.”

“I’ll at least need a hint, Crowley. It could literally be an infinite number of things,” Aziraphale sat back against the couch now, finally interested in the conversation even if he continued with the annoyed charade, hands folded on Crowley’s shins. “At least tell me if it’s good or bad. You know how I hate bad surprises.”

“It’s good, trust me,” Crowley grinned. “Has to do with something we created a looong time ago. I’m talkin’ B.C, baby.”

Aziraphale’s eyebrows raised, really curious now.

“We created it?”

“That we did, angel.”

Aziraphale hummed, fingers fidgeting with the fabric, before gasping in excitement, “Was it a chihuahua?”

Crowley’s own eyebrows shot up at that, nearly having forgotten they created that wretched animal.

“Oh but they’re so cute, Crowley, look at how tiny!”

“Fine, but that thing’s gonna be a beast, I don’t care how little it is.”

“Heheh, no but good guess,” He chuckled, sliding his glasses off and tucking them into his front pocket. His hands mimicked Aziraphale’s, fingers crossed but against his chest. “One more hint: I saw some very…giggly humans.”

It took him a moment, but finally Aziraphale grinned, giving Crowley’s knee a few squeezes and delighting in the squeak and kick against the other arm of the couch. He giggled as he watched Crowley turn pink and grumble. “That may be one of my favorite things we created together.”

Crowley shoved his glasses back on as if hiding, more embarrassed than he’d like to admit. “You’re ridiculous for miracling that shit into me all those years ago.”

“I only did it because you did the same to me!”

Crowley chuckled, regaining his confidence to reach over and squeeze at Aziraphale’s side, relishing in the angelic giggles.

“Well obviously. I’m a demon. Had to mess with my angel somehow.”

Aziraphale pushed his hand away, his smile remaining with pink cheeks. “Yes, but an angel is nothing without an even better miracle than yours. We both know you got the worst of it,” Aziraphale said, throwing wiggly fingers in Crowley’s direction when he tried to argue, “Don’t make me tickle your ribs and prove it, Crowley. We don’t want a repeat of—“

“Say it and I’ll pluck each feather off your back and go to town on those ears of yours.”

Aziraphale just grinned, retracting his fingers and letting his demon relax as he held his hands up in defeat. Aziraphale sort of has the high ground here anyway, considering their differing levels of sensitivities; he’ll just bring it up later.

“So you saw some people in a tickle fight, then?” Aziraphale tipped the conversation away from them, a little wary of the threat. “Quite a public spot for something we made to be so embarrassing, don’t you think?”

Crowley waved a hand, “Aaaaah they don’t all find it embarrassing. The guy seemed too happy to care, anyways,” he said, scrunching his nose. “He had just proposed.” Crowley said the word like there were worms crawling under his clothes.

Aziraphale gasped, “Oh how lovely! You should’ve congratulated them, Crowley!” He whined, knowing Crowley too well, sensing there was no way he had given them a proper congratulations. Aziraphale hated missing out on precious human moments like that.

Crowley smiled at his enthusiasm, “Don’t worry, angel. They’ve got each other for that sappy shite.”

Aziraphale huffed out a happy giggle, giving Crowley’s leg a little shake and pat. Crowley always found it gross how giddy the angel got over others happiness. It made his heart and belly feel funny, maybe he was going into cardiac arrest or something. Well, not literally of course, but maybe like metaphorically.

“So the newlyweds had a little tickle tussle in the park? Oh that’s just precious,” Aziraphale held his hands close to his chest. “Thank you for letting them have their moment, dear.”

“Whatever, just didn’t feel like working too hard today,” Crowley sniffed, leaning back against his arms. “Yknow, the guy seemed to be loaded with those tickly nerves. I don’t blame that girl one bit for going at ‘em. Kept making these funny noises and wigglin’ like a worm. It was honestly very amusing to watch.”

Aziraphale grinned all smug. “Weeelll…”

Crowley frowned. “Well…what?” Aziraphale just shrugged, giving Crowley a quick up and down. Crowley shot up, pointing a finger, “No. That is not how I am.”

“All I’m saying is, if you can’t blame her for tickling her husband because of his funny reactions…weeeelll…” Aziraphale giggled, throwing shaky arms up in defense when Crowley leaned forward.

“Keep at it,” Crowley warned, throwing his legs off Aziraphale so he could corner the tittering angel into the couch, “And I swear, I will have jars of ticklish angel tears to display on my shelf,” he poked Aziraphale in the chest, awfully close now. “I’ll make sure you discorporate with a smile.”

Aziraphale gulped on a giggle.“I-I was merely…Crowley, come on now, I’m teasing,” he stuttered out. Crowley was right up in his face now, a smile that may as well be fanged making Aziraphale’s voice quiver. Crowley was eating up the sight.

“Yeah? Well so am I,” Crowley grinned in his face, glasses falling to the tip of his nose so Aziraphale could see the endearment in his yellow eyes. Aziraphale sighed, bringing a hand to the demon's chest. Crowley leaned into the touch, humming contentedly as he started relaxing against Aziraphale’s form.

He curled up against the angel’s side, Aziraphale’s fingers playing at his cheek. Crowley pressed his face into Aziraphale’s shoulder, mumbling, “It’s not my fault you’re a literal God-gifted tickler.”

“Mm, well it isn’t my fault you’re ticklish enough to break my vessel’s nose—“

“Okay, fuuuck you, I thought we weren’t bringing that up, you twit,” Crowley flicked Aziraphale in the temple, “Also, it quite literally is your fault I’m this ticklish. Prick.”

Aziraphale kept a frown after having his face assaulted like that, “I feel like you’re just asking for it now. Insulting and flicking me as we talk about how horribly ticklish you are. Yes, quite a wise decision on your part, Anthony.”

Crowley pressed his face further into Aziraphale, mumbling something incoherent that probably made no sense anyways. Something like, “your mum’s horribly ticklish…” but who's to say. Aziraphale caught on with a giggle.

“Oh is that it?” Aziraphale asked, squeezing Crowley’s shoulder.

“Is what it?”

“Do you want me to-“

“No. Fuck you.”

“Are you sure? Because it sure seems like-“

“Noooo.”

Aziraphale held back a laugh, trying not to embarrass Crowley so much he fled from the scene. Instead, he just slid a hand up Crowley’s side, decidedly not tickling. Crowley tensed under him, his hand squeezing tighter on Aziraphale’s lapels, but made no move to leave.

“I used a word before,” Aziraphale tapped one finger against the clothed side, not ticklish but definitely threatening. “Envy. Is that what you’re experiencing, Crowley?”

Crowley tried to grumble, but it sounded more like a whine with his face smushed into Aziraphale’s coat.“Wha’ would I even be…envious of,” Crowley muttered. “S’all stupid. Not the proposal, that’s for damn certain.”

“Oh no, surely not the proposal,” Aziraphale used his one finger to scritch gently. Crowley tittered in his throat. “I wonder what else I could be talking about, hm?”

Crowley was vibrating. He could feel how warm his face had gotten against the coat, hating himself for it but refusing to leave. This was…this was something. “Beats me,” he shrugged, but quickly brought his arms back down when he felt Aziraphale’s hand trail up even further, fuck. He growled, “Sssstop.”

“Stop what?” Aziraphale pinched once, and Crowley growled. “If there’s something on your mind, I’d love to hear it.”

“Hhmmhhmmhehehmm,” Crowley hummed a whine, squirming in Aziraphale’s hold. Part of him desperately wanted to sprawl out onto his partner's lap and let the angel have his ticklish way with him. The other part of him was screaming to push Aziraphale away, tell him off for being so silly and stupid. He didn’t actually think Aziraphale was stupid in the slightest, but fuck he couldn’t really think of anything worthwhile to say with Aziraphale’s fingers doing that to his lower ribs.

He didn’t do either of those things, though. Instead, he stayed curled into Aziraphale’s side with fingers also curled right on that spot that made Crowley feel all…all squirmy.

“Crooowleyy~,” Aziraphale sang into his ear, smiling against the shell of it as Crowley jerked and snickered in giggly fluster.

“What do you waaaant??”

“Did that couple make you think some…” Aziraphale pinched a quick line from Crowley’s ribs down to his hips. Crowley choked out a surprised giggle, body arching with a flinch. “…ticklish thoughts?”

“You’re such a dihick,” Crowley slapped Aziraphale’s hand, barking a laugh when he just squeezed his hip in response.

“I’m right, aren’t I?”

“…mmmmm no.”

“Crowley. You’re pushing into my fingers.”

“Shhhut up!”

“Admit it and I’ll get this over with,” Aziraphale said, abandoning his fear of embarrassing Crowley too much as it seems he was actually enjoying that part of it now. Who knew demons were so fond of being a little flustered?

Well, probably not most demons. But, come to think of it, when has Crowley ever been like “most demons”?

“I can’t, angel,” he whined, words a bit breathy as Aziraphale has switched to gently, slowly clawing at the clothed skin. It wasn’t enough to make him laugh, but damn if it still didn’t tickle like hell. If anything, this was probably worse. He can’t use the excuse of, “well I can’t talk when you’re tickling me!” because really, Aziraphale wasn’t. Not yet at least. Now they both knew he just can’t talk because he’s too flustered, and isn’t that a horrifying thought in itself.

“I never realized you actually liked it,” Aziraphale said genuinely, but his tone really made it sound like a tease.

Crowley shook his head, “I d—“ he bit down on his rebuttal with a growl, the word ‘don't’ falling down his throat. By now, they both knew that wasn’t true. No sense in fighting it, he guessed. “I didn’t know.”

Aziraphale made a surprised sound. “Really?” He gave a scribble to Crowley’s side, longer than the usual ones, and Crowley whined through a giggle.

“Uuugh maybe. Just when…whehen the couple—when they wehehere—Angehel I can’t speheheak when you’re—!” Crowley squeaked when Aziraphale started pinching up and down, giving focus to that little spot below his ribs. He couldn’t keep his giggles down, falling into breathless, flustered laughter as Aziraphale actually, finally started to tickle him.

“Too ticklish for words, Crowley?” Aziraphale teased on purpose this time, bringing his hand up, up, up to tickle a single finger in the hollow under Crowley’s arm. Crowley spasmed, choking out high pitched giggles as he squirmed and tried hiding his face even more into Aziraphale.

Aziraphale merely brought his other hand in to play with his exposed ear, bringing Crowley’s smiling face out as he jerked his head around to defend.

“Nohoho! This can’t be fffffuhucking fahahair-!” Crowley agonized, his laughter all over the place in pitch.

“I suppose not, considering I have quite the advantage here. More ticklish and enjoyable for you? What a pickle, my dear,” Aziraphale said, giggling as he heard the words come out of his mouth. “Aha! A tickly pickle! Isn’t that funny, Crowley?”

Crowley cackled as he shook his head around madly. Words weren’t easy when Aziraphale’s hand moved from his ear to his previously untouched side, pinching and squishing at the devastatingly sensitive hip bone.

“Refute it all you want, but with how hard you’re laughing you must think I’m very funny,” Aziraphale said, digging both hands into Crowley’s hips while dodging a headbutt to the nose.

Crowley’s mind felt like tangled wire. The tickling, the teasing, the knowing that he’s enjoying every second of it (and tickling and teasing him for exactly that). He’s been tickled before, been tickled by Aziraphale a few times in the past, but this was…it’s different.

They’re closer now, closer than they’ve ever been before. They know each other so intrinsically and still manage to learn new things about each other every day. Today’s discovery just happens to be Crowley’s apparent love for being tickled silly by his favorite angel, and he’s having trouble coping with the embarrassment of that when Aziraphale’s hands won’t leave his fucking hips alone.

“Yohohou-! AHA—! You’re diabohoholical! Ffffuhuhucking wanker!” Crowley insulted through hysterical giggling, squirming and kicking as his hips were tickled to the nub.

“Oh? Does someone want me to go back up to the ribs?~” Aziraphale’s hands finally left his hips, but slowly scribbled their way back towards his awful rib cage. Crowley thrashed with a cackle, it doesn’t even tickle that much on his sides but even the thought of those fingers back on his ribs has his stomach feeling ticklish on the inside.

“You dohohon’t—! Dohon’t have tohoho—ahAHAha nohohoho-!” Once those fingers found his ribs on both sides, Crowley gave up all the fight he had in him. He melted into Aziraphale’s side, merely squirming and twitching as he let his ribs be plucked by angelic hands. It was a torturous bliss he never expected himself to be found in.

“A ticklish demon,” Aziraphale cooed, leaning down to press his nose into Crowley’s hair. When Aziraphale talked now, it felt like the words went straight to Crowley’s brain, vibrating through the skull and making his neck scrunch. Crowley wanted nothing more than to let his angel play with him, and Aziraphale loved doing just that. “My proudest creation.”

. . .

a/n : hope u enjoyeddd it was very fun to write lol. pls consider liking and reblogging!! happy holidays <33

[loretta-dont-you-oppress-me]

Update on my Life

What happened so far ... a long time ago ...

I was so tired of all the talking and arguing and bickering and judging. And I thought: It's time to move on! I need some Good Omens in my life.

And lo! So much has happened lately:

I have found a new family and new friends

photo courtesy of @bil-daddy and @docdust

I have found a new congregation (not a church!)

I became a disciple of Bildaddy the Shuite (and also a bit of a friend)

I got a job as 666th scrivener at the @shutanictemple

photo courtesy of @bil-daddy and @docdust

I have been promoted to 666th Senior Administrator of the Shutanic Temple

We have started an orphanage for kids (human) for a whole bunch of kids --> @shutanic-temple-orphanage

I am truly blessed with choices

This is me with Crowley. I met her on a the rather dreary occasion of a mass crucifixion. We were both there to mourn a friend.

I feel so seen

I am assistant wedding planer at the wedding of @mrazfellco and @bil-daddy

I have become a muse to artists

Artworks by @lacking-hydration and by @lafakiwi-draws-archive

@shutanic-temple-orphanage is now all set up with a petting zoo. Here is a rare glimpse of its outskirts:

me and @bil-daddy on our way to feeding the greedy bunch ...

I have my own music video now:

Loretta - You'll be a woman soon.

On January 18th @bil-daddy and my humble self opened the @shutanic-temple-art-gallery

(Stay tuned for further developments ...)

[feralbutfluffy]

58: Muriel

Chapter 58 of Too Wise to Woo Peaceably

******

Muriel slid the key into the lock and turned it with a satisfying click that they rather enjoyed.

They nudged the door open with their knee and wiggled their way inside, arms aching under the weight of a heavy crate of alcohol.

Things had got rather a bit out of hand at the off-license… 

But they didn’t think Crowley would mind! They gingerly placed the crate down just inside the door, setting off a jangle of clinking as the bottles settled themselves. Pulling on a bottle neck at random, Muriel tugged one loose and tucked it under their arm before moving deeper into the flat. It was curiously quiet.

They found the angel and the demon standing just inside the bedroom, Crowley leaning heavily on Aziraphale, the two of them silently taking in Muriel’s attempt at interior design. At the sound of their footsteps, Crowley turned his head and raised an eyebrow.

“Your handiwork, I take it?”

Muriel felt their face get very hot, like it might catch fire, and at the same time they felt-

nervous 

scared 

worried 

anxious

eager

excited

They placed the bottle just inside the doorframe and looked around, trying to see the bedroom through their eyes.

♢♢♢

Muriel had sent Aziraphale away earlier, hoping to give him time to talk to Crowley, and then they had sat on the bed, contemplating the dark, sleek angles, the emptiness of the room, everything cool and sophisticated and impersonal.

They had looked at the blood stains.

If they miracled them away, and replaced the sheets with similar, new ones, would that be enough? They thought of how Crowley had sounded when he had told her about sleeping, the way he had talked of it as if it were sanctuary.

'Great plan for a dreary month. Or a boring decade. Or a particularly rough century.'

Muriel tried to imagine Crowley wearily falling into this same bed with any amount of relief.

It seemed impossible.

Muriel thought of the way he had eyed the plants.

‘If plants have memories they’re unlikely to thrive in a room where some lunatic angel…’

Muriel wasn’t sure about plants, but Crowley certainly had a memory, and they suspected that what held true for plants might also hold true for demons.

Each time he lay in bed, he would probably be reminded of the stains. Even if Muriel removed them, he would still know. Every time he turned his head to the wall, he would be looking at the spot where his skull had cracked against concrete. Every time he swung his feet out of bed and placed them on the floor, he would be standing where he had been knocked to the floor, before he had been taken away. 

And it had only got worse from there.

Muriel felt their breath catch. Grief. Their heart felt swollen with it.

They stood and stepped away from the bed, trying to think of everything they had learned to love since being on Earth, so much of it from - or at least around - Crowley himself: from the simple loveliness of casual touch, to the way dust floated in sunlight, to almost-friendship, to the greenery of St. James’ Park, to fuzzy socks, to the padded booths at the coffee shop, to books, to reading books, to sugar crystals… 

They filled their mind with calmness, with warmth, and pulled at ideas, flicking their fingers down in the subtle gesture that drew power from Heaven.

The stain on the wall vanished, as did the black and gilt table that had careened into the wall.

The bare grey walls blanched to white, and then a sage and lavender haze crept over them, a fog made of watercolour splashes that had slowly cleared to reveal a dappled wood. Sunshine filtered through indistinct leaves, scattering impossible rays of golden light against the floor where it met the wall.

A walk in the woods, they thought, trying to infuse it with all the relaxation of a forest on a warm day.

They thought of Anne of Green Gables and the dust in the bookshop. A window appeared in the forest wall where there was no business being a window, and just outside it, the branches of an impossible tree swayed softly in an impossible breeze while inside the room dust motes twirled lazily, illuminated by the light. Muriel smiled, delighted. 

More gestures, more miracles. 

Muriel made short work of the concrete platform and the flat, stylish bed, banishing them elsewhere in favour of an enormous bed on a frame so low it almost looked like it rested on the floor. An ornate headboard of gilded mahogany dominated the space, borrowing details from Muriel’s recently departed chair and Crowley’s throne. 

An outrageously puffy duvet sheathed in golden velvet was heaped high with cushions and pillows and blankets in autumnal colours, each one with a different texture that invited the sleeper to touch, to hug the chenille and linen and silk and stonewashed cotton and cashmere to their body, to sink into the softness and drift into dreams. 

Crowley could burrow into it, if he wanted to. He could get lost in it, if he needed to.

Muriel’s hand patted thin air, and they looked up at the ceiling as clouds rolled in, thick and white. They narrowed their eyes and at the twitch of a finger, the clouds dissipated until they were nothing but pale painterly strands stretched across a pale blue sky.

They’d trotted down the hallway then, searching until they had found what they were looking for, and returned to the room looking extremely pleased with themselves. Their index finger moved, and suddenly there was a small, sleek bookcase made of polished wood, a matching end table, and a dark, soft, inviting wingback armchair. After a moment’s thought, they added a floor cushion.

They got to work stacking the published works of G.K. Chesterton on the bookshelf before adding the novels of Jane Austen. 

They placed The Extremely Big Book Of Astronomy on the end table.

Muriel banished the stain from the floor with a grim nod and buried the polished concrete under a layer of soft, plush carpet, dense enough to make it feel like walking on a cloud, 

They made a space for Benedick and Beatrice, and then looked around, enjoying the peace of the room. 

They loved it!

But would Crowley? They worried at their lower lip, thinking about Aziraphale’s aversion to dust, and Crowley's clothes, and Crowley's car... They looked around, thinking about Aziraphale telling them about the first time he had met Crowley, about the stars-

They could see it in their mind’s eye, then, and it was so precise that one sharp flick of their hand made the entire room change so quickly it made Muriel stumble.

The bed, its contents, and the wingback armchair were unchanged. 

The forest was gone, as was the window. The clouds rolled back and disappeared. 

In their place, silk velvet coated the walls and ceiling in a seductively deep navy. It was studded all over with constellations and errant stars picked out in gold thread. The carpet darkened considerably to match.

The bookcase became something sturdy and old with gilded whorls carved into the corners. The end table turned into an antique, and the floor cushion softened and sagged. Great swathes of material - some thick and heavy, some chiffon-thin - draped loosely from one corner of the room across the bed to the wall, creating an asymmetrical canopy in analogous tones. Muriel hid filament bulbs in the folds, and the enveloping darkness of the room made their soft warm light look ethereal.

Muriel added tiny string lights somewhere near the ceiling, then threw themselves backwards onto the bed, lying in the pile of blankets and pillows and cushions as if it were a nest. They looked up at the fabric. It twinkled with tiny pinpricks of light that looked like distant stars, the larger filament bulbs gently illuminating the bed, their light diffusing through the layers of the canopy. It was perfect. Dark and moody, yes, but also lovely and comfy and relaxing. It was perfect. Or at least they hoped it was perfect!

They thought of Anne of Green Gables again.  

‘And you know one can dream so much better in a room where there are pretty things.’

Muriel had never dreamed before but it sounded lovely!

A flick of a finger placed Crowley’s decorative coiled snake on the bookshelf alongside a rubber duck made of brass. They crafted a tiny bowl of sugar crystals out of nothing and placed it on top of The Extremely Big Book of Astronomy. They placed three pairs of fuzzy socks on the end of the bed. They sighed contentedly.

Of Muriel’s many revelations from their time on Earth, touch had been one of her favourites.

Shoulder bumps and friendly nudges and high fives and handshakes delighted them, the spark of connection they could feel from the most casual brush of skin against human skin a shock to their system after thousands of years of barely even speaking to a soul. As a nod to that, everything in the bedroom yearned to be touched; the carvings, the contrast of texture between the smooth velvet and the hard gold thread, the cosy happiness of too many pillows and blankets made from too many fine things. 

The other favourite revelation had been friendship.

Crowley was dear to them now, filling so many roles. He was like a teacher, but also like family. He was a mentor, and also maybe a reluctant friend? He was mean sometimes, only not really, only in a funny haha way, and he liked sleeping, and being seen as dark and grumpy, and liquor, and ducks, and plants, and Aziraphale. Not in that order.

And he didn’t like being woken at six thirty.

They had tried their best to make the room something he would feel comfortable in, something utterly different to what it was before while still hewing to his general style.

They had gone back to Crowley and Aziraphale then, feeling nervous, and taken themselves off on a needless errand hoping they would have processed the redecoration in their absence, but now here they were, and it appeared Muriel might have arrived at exactly the wrong time, because despite Crowley’s raised eyebrow they both looked slightly slack-jawed with shock.

“Y- Yes?” Muriel stuttered. Crowley looked back at the room, his eyes roving over the bed before meeting Aziraphale’s in what Muriel understood to be a meaningful look.

What the meaning was, however… well, that was completely lost on them.

Aziraphale stiffened and pointedly pivoted away from both Crowley and Muriel, which they took to be a bad sign.

“Do you hate it?” Muriel asked. “I can change it back if you hate it!”

Crowley smiled then, a proper smile, one that slightly split his lip where it had been healing (ouch), but he didn’t seem to notice. 

“Don’t you dare. This is great!” He looked excited in a way that Muriel had never seen, and for a moment, even with the bruises and the wounds, they could - if they tried very, very, very hard - imagine Crowley squealing with delight.

He beckoned them over, and when Muriel got close enough he reached out and took their hand, making them jump. He was still smiling, his face bright with joy - which was quite unnerving but also lovely - and Muriel watched him with wide eyes, wondering if he was quite alright.

“Thanks. I mean it, Muriel. This room- Well, I was afraid... I was dreading coming in here. And this- Well, it's- It’s so bloody gorgeous it’s distracting...!" He meant it, Muriel could tell, but his smile faltered, and it was lopsided as he finished the sentence. "... And I needed distracting.”

There was fondness written all over his face, and Muriel thought they probably were friends now, actually.

“Have a gold star,” Crowley said softly, and suddenly there was a small, hard, heavy object between their hands. He pulled away, and Muriel uncurled their fingers.

In the palm of their hand was a solid gold ingot stamped with an M in the shape of a star.

[adrianasunderworld]

The Night Raven Circus AU

"Come one, come all, to the most daring show in all of Twisted Wonderland! Witness spectacles beyond your imagination. Death Defying Aerial dances. Beasts from Hell tamed. Creatures from the depths. Dolls given life and fires run wild. I, Dire Crowley, will be your host this evening. Welcome the Night Raven Circus!"

✨🎪✨

The Night Raven Circus is a famous show that travels all over Twisted Wonderland. With it's Whimsical and Gothic aesthetic, to it's large cast of performers and attractions, it has always stood out over the years and has earned its excellent reputation. And, befitting it's name, the circus is only open at night.

The Ring Leader, Dire Crowley, had hired the best performers he can find. From Lilia, the best swordsman around, known for his sword swallowing an knife throwing tricks and his son Silver who is also learning the act. The fire breather Malleus. Who due to his draconic heritage is able to command fire and control it, leading to a thrilling act that scares and excites the audience. Jamil the talented hypnotist that calls audience members to take part. Along with many more.

The newest addition to the cast being Isabelle, a Beast Tamer. But instead of working with your average circus animals, she tames monsters. Griffins, Hellhounds, and of course, Grim, a feline creature that can go from a kitten to a large fire maned beast.

Other recent additions to the performance lineup being Dires daughter, Darling. Where she controls her hand crafted and life like dolls to perform for the audience. And Dreary, who has a tent she tells fortunes out of. Though most of her predictions are fake, and all her real visions are only bad things to come.

However, with all the fame of the circus, comes those seeking to topple it. The rival Playfulland Circus is run by a man known as the Coachman. The inner workings of their business being shady at best. Whenever they happen to be in the same area as The Night Raven circus, little things tend to go wrong. A wardrobe malfunctions, a prop or two going missing. Giddel has even been caught sneaking around now and then and promptly scolded. However, lately things star to escalate. Equipment is being damaged, costumed shredded. Isabelle has found the cages of her beasts unlocked when she knows for a fact it was closed.

However things take a turn for the deadly when Clara, an aerial dancer, was performing when the rope holding up the hoop she was hanging from snapped and she fell. She walked away with only a few injuries, but now Dire was enraged and needed to find a way to get back at the Playfulland circus for this.

With Darling taking over the slot that was for Claras routine, the rival circus is now keeping a new eye on the new talent to see what else they can sabotage or even copy.

Au thought I talked with @marrondrawsalot (The owner of oc Darling Crowley) about.

@mangacupcake @writing-heiress @the-weirdos-mind

Feel free to add what your characters might be doing in the circus or as audience members. Or even which circus they're apart of.

[agerefandom]

AgereFandom 2023 Masterpost

Happy New Year! It's time for the yearly roundup of content that I made this year! Thank you so much for getting this blog past 2,000 followers this year! I love you all and I hope the new year treats you gently <3 <3

Fanfics: Calling You Home (Les Mis, regressor!Enjolras, caregiver!Grantaire) Baby Steps (Twilight, regressor!Bella, caregiver!Charlie) It Takes A Village 1 /2 (Minecraft, regressor!Reader) Dream Bubble Diamonds (Homestuck, regressor!Mituna, caregiver!Kurloz) As I Lay Me Down To Sleep (Hazbin Hotel, regressor!Reader, caregiver!Angel) Wrapped In Silken Dreams (Black Butler, regressor!Aloise angst) Once Upon A Midnight Dreary (Jekyll and Hyde, regressor!Jekyll) To Have, To Hold, To Drink (Vampire Chronicles, regressor!Lestat) Sweet Little Trickster (Harry Potter, regressor!Reader, caregivers!Fred and George)

Headcanons: Criminal Minds Season One Agere Headcanons Team Kira Agere (with caregiver!Shinigami) Regressor!Elphaba and Glinda Regressor!Garnet Underfell!Regressor!Sans Regressor!Michael Shelley Caregiver!Loki Regressor!Valkyrie and cg!Skulduggery Flip!Asgore Caregiver!Midoriya Regressor!Mello (with cg!Matt) Caregiver!Toriel Caregiver!Hades Regressor!Desire Regressor!Light (with cg!L) Regressor!Kankri (with cg!Porrim) Caregiver!George Weasley Flips!Erik and Christine Regressor!Erskine Ravel Big Sister!Spinel Regressor!Raven Boys (and Blue) Twilight Series: Carlisle / Edward / Jasper

Minecraft Biomes: Plains / Jungle

And some author's choice moodboards and art below the cut!

Personal Favourite Moodboards: Caregivers!Aziraphale and Crowley Regressor!Muriel Caregiver!John Watson Caregiver!Sebastian Michaelis Caregiver!Yagi Toshinori Regressor!Tenth Doctor Regressor!Lan Zhan / Regressor!Wei Ying Regressor!Laudna Regressor!Ken Flips!Wanda and Natasha

Personal Favourite Art: Regressor!Crowley Regressor!Mituna Pride!Regressor!Vaggie Regressors!Toga and Ochako

[avocado-writing]

As an American, from what I understand of English beaches they’re mostly rocky and dreary with very cold grey water.

That said…imagine Aziraphale and Crowley whisking you away to a warm tropical paradise for a proper beach getaway. Aziraphale overpacks (as usual) and stations himself in a comfy folding chair under a giant tartan umbrella with a banana daiquiri and a bag full of books. He wears a short-sleeved white linen button-up and yellow swim trunks with rubber duckies on them. Crowley vacillates between happily splashing around in the water with you and sunning himself on the burning hot sand. Aziraphale ventures out into the water one (1) time and starts turning pink within ten minutes, right before Crowley starts chasing him around with a bit of seaweed.

SOME OF THEM CAN BE NICE! But yeah. Mostly that ⬆️. azirphale wearing little sunglasses like his reading glasses but with tinted lenses 🥹

And as a snake demon?? Crowley must love the warmth of the beach, right? Like you said He loves falling asleep under the sun. (In the parent au the twins take advantage of this to bury him in sand)

[luxstring]

OC info card

[Credits to unfinished-projects-galore for the Oc template]

Name: Dreary

Nickname(s): Troublemaker, brat (Stolas), Lackey(Grim), Mouse(Ruggie), Rai(Epel)

Relative(s): None

Species: Blot creature

When Dreary was born, he couldn't feel or hear anything, but he could see. What he saw was endless blot, slowly emerging, forming into something new. He kept watching the blots change and form into horrifying things. And then he can hear, and the first time he got to listen to something, it was the screech of the creatures he called brothers. It was morbid, it sounded like they were in pain but he couldn't do anything, he didn't have a form to shield himself from the horrors Infront of him, so he endured it. Untill it was his turn to change, but he didn't want to turn into a monster, he wanted to be something gentle, something that can talk. He didn't know if that was allowed but he tried, he wanted to be kind.

So he separated himself from the blot form and looked for, what he considered gentle, humans.

There was this one family, a line of powerful magic users who he admired greatly for their determination and strength and he wanted to look like them and so he copied the first person he saw from that family. Trying with all his might to form into what he wished, fighting the blot that was trying to mangle his form and in the end succeeded. He didn't have their gray hair color, but he looked almost identical to the person he copied and for the first time in his life, he felt gentle.

Dreary grew to be really energetic, kind and sometimes clumsy. Making trouble wherever he went even though he doesn't mean to. He likes helping people in need and play childish games with other children.

When he arrived at NRC he wasn't called by the mirror, but was found by Crowley after getting caught roaming around the facility. He was skeptical about the fact that Crowley didn't seem to mind him and actually gave him a dorm to stay, which was ramshackle. Dreary feels like Crowley knew what he was, but didn't say anything.

Unique Magic: Filled with death

— This isn't actually a unique magic. It's his normal abilities disguised as one.

— He can absorb other blots, wether it's from a defeated blot creature or a student who overblotted.

— Doing too much would give painful faded black blots though, and he would forget himself sometimes, reverting back to being a mindless blot

Dorm: Ramshackle [dorm student]

Hobbies: strolling, sightseeing, reading, going into town, sleeping and playing.

Beat subject: History of magic

Favorite food: Custard

Least Favorite food: anything bitter

Hates: Caves, quiet, blot

Likes: Magic, shortcuts and the outdoor

Additional Information(s)

— Dreary knows of Stolas' ancestors as he lives long enough to see all of them

— Dreary gets nervous when Stolas looks at him sometimes, since he looks alot like one of Stolas' ancestors

— He named himself after the feeling of what people would experience when they blot

[riongeee]

imagine what would happen when ace shows up at ass-o-clock to bother yuu into helping him

Don't even get me started :')

Sebek would already be irritated by the previous happenings. Like, first, he was not placed in diasomnia but he was placed in RAMSHACKLE. Not any other dorm but RAMSHACKLE (which no-one even thought as a possibility). Worse even is that Ramshackle is falling apart: it's cold, it's dreary and no where near warm enough for our crocodile boy.

Then, fire weaslel Grimm shows up and that's a whole other headache. (Though the slight warmth he gives off is appreciated).

Even more, the absolute lack of any support offered by Crowley?

After all that, he has to deal with some smarmy little red head????

Oh Sebek is pissed. Pissed. Even before the heartslabyul events he's already fed up.

This random red head came up to them and called them janitors and not a real dorm (Sebek may not like his situation but hell if he lets anyone insult his dorm)! The whole burning statue fiasco happens and plays out similarly to cannon but with added Sebek (Which would work out pretty well as he was actually trained so he would be able to fight tbf). The group come out of it closer.

Sebek may still not fully be okay with his dorm and it's patchy roof, or the lack of Diasomnia trio contact, but maybe, just maybe, he doesn't mind the people he's met.

(Don't get me wrong he probably glares at Ace any chance he gets. But hey, going through stress like that endears people to you(even if they are smarmy red heads)).

So when Ace actually shows up pathetically asking for help, Sebek is still Sebek and lectures him on following rules. Yet, he still lets him in.

[the-trinket-witch]

Steampunk AU, Anybody?

(OCs Welcome!) Collab'd with @simpingseafood

1890s Twisted Wonderland. The City of Nightraven is a burgeoning metropolis. On the cusp of a new century, technology has gone hand in hand with the innate magic first perfected by The Great Seven. 

Every city has a head, Nightraven having one Dire Crowley as their mayor. Alongside him is his parliamentary council, of which Riddle Rosehearts-son of Dr. Carrol Rosehearts-is well on his way to becoming head of said council. 

A military base is housed along the outskirts of the city, within residing a fresh Ace Trappola and Deuce Spade. Their Captain, Cater Diamond, actually lives off-base with a renowned baker Trey Clover. 

Because of Nightraven's location and size as a hub of trade, ambassadors from across the land come to observe and partake in the local culture from the local embassy. Second-born son of the Royal Kingscholars, Leona begrudgingly fulfills the role of ambassador of the Sunset Savannah. In the wings are his steward Ruggie Bucchi and appointed soldier Jack Howl.

Another wing of the embassy houses the crown prince of the Scalding Sands: Kalim al-Asim. The only one beside him is his longstanding servant and assumed confidant Jamil Viper. 

Nightraven also stands as a center for budding trends. Vil Schoenheit is a household name in the world of fashion. But Vil is but a packaged deal, as no photography shoot or 'motion picture' set complete without his bodyguard Rook Hunt, and protégé Epel Felmier. 

Along the docks sits a bustling restaurant of coastal fare. Owned by a silver-tongued Azul Ashengrotto, and ran with associates Jade and Floyd Leech, this restaurant and its owners are more than they seem. For when the lights go out and tones are hush, more sinister business is made, if one can afford the price. 

Said deals cannot always be completed without assistance. That is where the forges of Idia Shroud burn as bright as his hair. He needs but the lightest excuse to begin his feverish experiments, assisted by his 'brother' Ortho. Together they work wonders with magic and steam, just keep your eyes away from the back of the shop. 

In one of the more stately homes outside the urban center houses a royal entourage from the Briar Valley. Prince Malleus has been tasked with absorbing necessary skills to bolster his future rule of his grandmother's kingdom, as well as advertise said kingdom's magical exports. At his side are the retired General Van Rouge, and knights Silver and Zigvolt. 

Amidst all of this, one dreary night brought a dark carriage racing down the streets. The mechanical steed somehow had been instructed to halt at the mayor's estate. Accompanying this carriage is a human, somehow devoid of magic in a world chocked with it. Along with them: a stowaway beast, cat-like with blue flaming ears, having hitched a ride on the premise that 'it was going fast, it must have been needing to get somewhere important'. 

The City is enormous. What awaits the magicless human within the streets of Nightraven? Who will they meet? How will they return home? Can they? 

@loneliness-of-spring @achy-boo

[aziraphales-library]

howdy! i was wondering if you could rec some really tropey ineffable wives fics? i really liked the blesséd language of flowers by elfontheshelf!

Hello! Here are some delightfully tropey ineffable wives fics for you...

i was so tempted (i wouldn't dare) by rubyknowbys (T)

It’s a message delivered to the wrong number that brought Antonia J. Crowley and Aziraphale Fell together and, even in anonymity, a friendship inevitably made something deeper flourish amongst shared texts. Antonia started working at Medium’s Bookshop, they finally scheduled a date, and Aziraphale was thrilled to know that she’s going to meet the owner of the irresistible words, which made her fall in love so quickly. But the bookshop supervisor didn’t imagine that their new employee, who she detested even more each day, is the same woman who has been sending her those anonymous darling messages all along.

And when she found out, the information created a new dilemma inside her mind, while her most powerful impulse became to try to win Antonia’s heart smoothly: should Aziraphale tell her?

Just Like You Were Brand New by SilenceDogood117 (T)

There are two things Aziraphale Fell hates: 1) people checking out books from her library and 2) Christmas. Already gritting her teeth to get through the festive season, she is further alarmed to hear that Antonia Crowley has come back to town for the first time in 14 years.

Cue Christmas absurdities, reading contests, old memories, and the occasional duck.

Take the Monet and Run by SilenceDogood117 (M)

Convicted art thief Antoinette Crowley is fresh out of prison, fresh out of a marriage, and determined to settle an old score with one last heist. She’s certainly not going to be distracted by the reappearance of a face from the past. That would be entirely counterproductive.

I’m Your Landsailor by IneffableDoll (T)

In a small seaside town called Tadfield, one of the last places on Earth where humans and magic coexist, an exiled selkie and a human who ran away from her life accidentally get themselves married in the oldest, most binding sense. The two are forced to stay together until they can find a way to undo it and free the other from their accidental marriage. It sure would be complicated if they started to fall for each other in the process…

How To Fall (In Love with an Angel) by die_traumerei (M)

It's not a meet-cute, because they don't actually meet, and that's the worst part of Crowley seeing the most beautiful woman in the world, stumbling, and breaking her ankle. She gets the weeks in plaster, and none of the pretty lady -- at least at first.

In a village small enough that the Queer community is more like a family, it's no time at all before Crowley and Aziraphale meet, and set about courting each other. Secrets are shared, flirtation is had, and Crowley falls again; just this time, the local A&E isn't involved.

don't read too much into it by mllekurtz (M)

Discovering the identity of the guardian angel who sheltered her from the rain on a dreary Monday morning won’t be easy, but Crowley (beleaguered junior editor in a London publishing house and human disaster) can’t think of anything else.

And the one you mentioned...

The blesséd language of flowers by elf_on_the_shelf (E)

Crowley has given up on her life in the big city and decided to retire early to the lovely village of Tadfield. She expected a run-off-the-mill early retirement. Maybe playing bridge with a couple of old ladies and maybe taking a part in organising some of the village fetes. What she did not expect was actually competing against the woman she had developed a crush on in the village floral competitions and hence that particular woman instantly taking a dislike to her. She also did not expect that for the sake of the village's reputation they would have to band together and participate as a couple for nationals, because why not...

- Mod D