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#crowley is being suspicious
coolbattlegirl · 2 years
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What if Crowley is purposely delaying on finding our way home?
Imagine if the person who brought us to Twisted Wonderland was Crowley all along. Like, don’t you find it odd during the tsum event where he was able to find a way back home for them? 
Yuu(mc) has been trying to find a way home for like… half a year now? And he managed to get the tsum’s home in just a few days. 
Maybe he’s purposely delaying our way home for some reason. Though I can’t exactly pinpoint why he would do this…
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egophiliac · 10 months
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a bunch of assorted episode 7 stuff from the last couple of days! because they're still taking over my entire brain! (I keep forgetting that the diasomnia uniform has that weird spike...chain...thing on the back. do you think when they get bored they, like, throw balloons at each other and whoever pops one first wins? is this what the dialounge is like in the off-hours?)
hey when do we get to see maskless red Lilia. please Twst I'm dying over here
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raineyraven · 4 months
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can i just say that it's very obvious when a good omens s3 theorist isn't a writer
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ryker-writes · 9 months
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The next time Fuyuki is asked to bring someone with Grim to a unbirthday party
LMAO I LOVE IT
Riddle would be so nervous and Jaxon is just there like "Hey."
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nymphilily · 2 months
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Sometimes, the AU's I spend the most time on are the ones I only make memes for
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officialmisha · 4 months
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ok not to clown but i looked at cw_supernatural instagram and the activity really does look suspicious as hell. after they stopped advertising the finale 3 years ago they made 29 posts, most of which were promoting the winchesters (14), some about gotham knights, two about walker, 3 happy birthday posts to jensen ackles (it's hilarious because. he is the only one being wished happy birthday on the official insta acc and between happy birthday jensen ackles in 2021 and happy birthday jensen ackles in 2022 there was NOT A SINGLE OTHER POST on that account. i'm crying) then whoever is running this thing posts on may 25th 2023 about the official supernatural cocktail book. and then radio silence until september 22nd, and since then an almost regular once a week post. the first one is the brothers of course but the next one is dean and crowley captioned "We could really use more of this duo.🍹" like girl yes but what is going on. also the actors' strike is happening so what are you doing why are you promoting a dead show like that? why "And the story continues.. #Supernatural" ????? why "A taste of normalcy for Dean."??????? and then 3 hours ago "No one smack talks like Castiel." ?????? why are you casbaiting me 3 years after that godforsaken finale what are you cooking up what is going on i demand answers and my tinfoil hat stays ON
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neil-gaiman · 5 months
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Hello Mr Gaiman! I noticed that the latest season of Staged (which came out before Good Omens 2) was weirdly meta and had someone orchestrating things to manipulate David Tennant and Michael Sheen and then ended with them being "broken up". I think it's suspicious how that parallels Good Omens 2 (which was weirdly meta and ended with Aziraphale and Crowley being broken up). I reckon the similarity was on purpose, and @Averixus reckons it wasn't. What d'you reckon?
I reckon that Simon Evans, who wrote Staged 3 after we shot Good Omens Season 2, didn't know anything about the plot of Season 2 because we kept it secret, so if there are similarities they are coincidental.
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kingconia · 7 months
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VIL SCHOENHEIT, LEONA KINGSCHOLAR AND MALLEUS DRACONIA WITH READER, WHO IS ALWAYS IGNORED BY THEIR FATHER...
(...Who happens to be the headmaster himself.)
Bonus points: reader studies in the Diasomnia.
Malleus Draconia. 💚
— When he heard for the first time that the new student of the Diasomnia, is the children of the Dire Crowley, he had a very low expectations, to be honest. Not like he hated on you beforehand or something, more like he was too aware of headmaster's character...
— So, he was pleasantly surprised to see that you are completely the opposite of your father. Responsible, hardworking—if not for you being a crow yourself, and having the same surname, he would never guess that you were raised by this man;
— However... It was clear as day that the reason why you had nothing common with him, was because he hardly payed attention to you. You tried so hard by studying diligently and achieving the first places in different school contests, and yet... He didn't really care?
— Malleus had never met his father, but Lilia made sure he would never feel neglected in the way you were. And the mistreatment towards you hurt him even more, than it hurt you.
”Shit,” you groaned, baring your teeth in unhidden displeasure. ”Headmaster will not approve seeing that that these students broke the window.”
Malleus gazed at you curiously—both of you were sitting on the roof, talking about everything and nothing—and the question left his lips by itself.
”We are all alone. Why are you still calling him a headmaster?”
As you brought knees to your chest, resting your chin on them, you shrugged. With voice impassive and eyed cold, you explained:
”I don't have a particular way to call him. He is either headmaster or Crowley. So...”
Malleus's heart squeezed instantly of the thought of that.
It sounded so unbelievable.
He grew up witnessing how gentle Lilia was to Silver, and how the latter called him a father. Their bond, a sincere and tight one, was always an example for Malleus of how families should like. And here you were, ignored by a man, who was the reason you were in this world. How unfair.
”Y/n?”
Malleus thought, if you asked him to fulfill your wish—to make your father love you—he would. Without a doubt.
”Yes?”
But for some reasons, you never do.
”I hope, you understand, a precious raven of mine, that Diasomnia is your family, too.”
So, he can only offer you an alternative. An alternative, where you need to accept that despite not having your father's love, you had all of them—him, Lilia, Silver and Sebek.
”...Thank you for that. I... I try to keep that in mind.”
Yet, you still need some time to comprehend that.
He could wait. They all will.
Vil Schoenheit. 💜
— He was naturally suspicious of you. It is not a secret that Vil hates privileged kids—such as Leona, for example—and for him, it was logical that you were the one, too;
— However, he started to doubt about that after observing you more closely;
— You never skipped lectures, always did your homework and participated actively in the classes. And not only that! Your achievements weren't passing through him—he was quite aware of all your wins in competitions, and a good reputation;
— So, to the moment, when you came to ask for his help for your talent show, Vil already admitted to himself, that despite having a privilege, you were a high achiever, who knew how to work. But, oh, little did he knew, that you were an opposite to the privileged person...
“Y/n-san,” Vil frowned deliberately, glaring at you with a genuine concern in his eyes, ”I think, you should take a little rest. Please.”
With your shoulders shaking, hands being red, and legs hardly keeping you up, you looked awful.
Vil knew how exhaustion looked—he wore it on himself all the time, after all—and he could say for sure, you were too close to the meltdown. If not to the overbolt...
”I can't. I should try harder,” you murmured, voice raspy. ”Only this way I can...”
The desperation in your eyes were so familiar that Vil almost flinched from it. Carefully, afraid of doing the wrong choice, he put hands on your shoulders, squeezing them softly.
”Y/n-san, you are one of the best students of our school. Even more, you are standing on the same place in the world, along with Leona and Malleus,” he reminded, lips slightly brushing your hair as he spoke. ”What else are you trying to achieve?”
”His attention, of course!" A sob that escaped your lips were too gut-wrenching to hear. ”What else I can need, if not a father?”
Vil didn't even try to conceal his own genuine sadness as he heard you saying that. Almost instinctively, he hugged you tightly, allowing to hide in the crook of his neck.
It was the moment, when he regretted that his assumptions about you being spoiled, were wrong. It would be much healthier for you, if he was right.
”Oh, darling,” he whispered gently. ”Cry all you like. You are allowed to.”
And so, you did.
When on the next morning you pretended that nothing happened, Vil wasn't mad at you for that. If anything, he was merely happy that he was able to help you for a while.
...If only you understood how worthy you are.
Leona Kingscholar. 💛
— The unbothered king had only two complaints to you, and both of them sounded ridiculous. Because, he was unhappy with you being a part of Diasomnia, and he couldn't settle with a fact that you were a crow. The end of the story;
— Leona truly couldn't care less about you or your father. What he cared was the fact that you were a powerful rival in the Spelldrive Tournament, and he was slightly bitter to losing both to you and your housewarden;
— Overall, he respected you. And that was why when you offered him to play chess together, he didn't say no. Since that, you became close, always playing together, in the same time and place;
— As Leona became closer to you, he obviously realised that your family relationships were fucked up—takes one neglected kid to recognise the other—but, decided not to pry out. If you want to talk about it, you will. Otherwise, he will not do anything.
”Huh?”
Leona blinked, not caring to mask his astonishment as he saw you sitting in the botanical garden, with chess board being set up, ready for another game.
”Hi, Leona,” you raised your head at him slowly. ”You are late.”
He weren't late, he just didn't know that you will be here.
The school was on the winder holidays, and the prevailing amount of students already left to their houses. As far as Leona had heard, the headmaster was the first one to leave, since he had a special vacation somewhere in the Shifts. Of course, Leona expected you to go there with him.
”...What are you doing here?” He asked bluntly. ”Shouldn't be you on holidays, or something?”
”My house is too empty,” you shrug, the slight frown indicating your irritation by this question. ”I decided, it would be better to stay.”
”...And the vacation?”
”Oh, Crowley never takes me with himself,” you huffed easily.
Leona had no idea that your relationship was that bad. Even Falena always invited him everywhere, just in case if Leona suddenly decides to agree.
”Well?” You rushed him. ”Are you going to play with me?”
There was nothing Leona could say to console you, words never being his strongest quality. But as he slowly made his way to the armchair, he couldn't help but being hit by the wave of the sheer madness towards your father.
How could anyone neglect such an ambitious and perfect kid as you?
”If I win, you are celebrating New Year with me,” Leona finally spoke up, moving the white piece of chess.
Well, it didn't matter. Not like Dire Crowley deserved you anyway.
”And if I do?”
”Then, I am celebrating New Year with you.”
You smiled at him, before concentrating on the game
”How cruel. I am in.”
He couldn't help but feel proud that the smile on your face was his doing.
Perhaps, you had not the best father, but... At least, Leona will make sure, that you will have a perfect holidays for once.
And that was fine, too.
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yuri-is-online · 9 months
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Without Saying (Floyd and Ruggie x Yuu)
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"Oh can I help you? You seem to be lost." You attempt to cheerfully ask the vaguely familiar looking person in front of you. As if he is deliberately trying to rub salt in your wounds, Crowley ignored your request to leave campus for NRC parents day and is instead making you and Grim run errands. The person in front of you, blissfully ignorant to your inner turmoil perks up at your attention.
"Forgive me for asking, but are you the magicless prefect?" You and Grim exchange a confused glance. "You've got to be right?" They're practically glowing with how happy they are to see you. " Oh I'm sorry, I've just heard so much about you!" Wait, what?
notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, feral ariel (Floyd) vs light angst again (Ruggie). If you liked this please check out the previous parts on my masterlist.
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Floyd
Under normal circumstances, a quiet Floyd was a suspicious Floyd but today- well today it was just odd. He doesn't look bored per se, just idle standing next to a very tall woman with similarly colored hair who is slowly, carefully, with extreme focus examining every inch of what you think is a novelty piggy bank shaped like the school's wishing well.
"Are you done yet Mamma?" Floyd sounds like he is being careful not to yawn.
"Hush now Floydie," she doesn't even blink, that's how tight her focus is, "Mamma is concentrating." Mrs. Leech's lips are tightly pursed while Floyd mutters something about going to get some candy and slinks off while you question if getting involved in this conversation is part of your job description or even smart. Unfortunately for you by the time you look back up from your clipboard Mrs. Leech has moved directly in front of your face in complete silence. "Human-" you go to scream but she silences you with a look you can't tell is from magic or practice raising the twins "Human can you help me with something?" She doesn't even wait for you to agree before holding up the piggy bank. "What exactly is the purpose of this object?"
"That?" You are surprised your voice doesn't give out entirely as she vigorously nods. "The piggy bank?"
"I see, I see." She nods sagely, immediately whipping around to where she evidently thought her son still was, shrugging undeterred as she decides to simply yell. "FLOYD! IT'S CALLED A PIGGY BANK."
"That's nice Mamma." Calls Floyd, oddly coming off as polite and rational from somewhere deep within the Mystery Shop. " But like what does it do?"
"EXCELLENT QUESTION! Say human what does it do?" You are deeply tempted to say that this woman cannot be serious but you don't really want to find out. You draw yourself up to your full height and nod.
"You put coins in it." Mrs. Leech blinks, a bit taken aback.
"Wait really?" Bravely, with a reasonable fear of being bitten, you reach over and gently lift up the top of the wishing well to show her the coin slot.
"I'm pretty sure this one plays a song when you put a coin in too." You explain.
"But it's so tiny?" She marvels, repeatedly opening and shutting the top of the bank. "How're you supposed to keep your money safe if it's so fragile? But then again I do keep most of mine with my husband..."
"Uhm it's supposed to be a fun gift for little kids." It occurs to you that she might find that offensive since it did look like she was buying it for herself. "To teach them about saving money, at least where I'm from anyway."
"Oh how cute. That settles it, I am definitely getting this." As if sensing that it is check out time Floyd shuffles over and immediately perks up.
"Little Shrimpy! Were you the one helping my mom?" He seems really happy, causing you to breathe a light sigh of relief. Mrs. Leech looks confused, zeroing in on you with the same concentration from earlier.
"Yeah. Trying to anyway." You nervously say; Mrs. Leech's attention turns to her son.
"Aww, how cute. You fishin' for a favor shrimpy?" Normally you would play along with his teasing, but your eyes dart awkwardly to Mrs. Leech whose attention is back on you, then the piggy bank, then you then her son, then you agai-
"Not really, I'm just trying to do my job." You awkwardly laugh and Floyd pouts.
"Spring or Summer?" Mrs. Leech asks cheerfully. To your surprise she has somehow managed to snatch up a second piggy bank within the .2 seconds since you took her attention off her.
"I'm sorry?"
"Oh just wondering that's all." She has a very serene smile on her face. Almost too serene. Like you just somehow signed away your soul because you didn't read some fine print. "I'm more partial to Spring myself." You try to look to Floyd for some context but for some reason, he's refusing to make eye contact. Weird.
Ruggie
"Thank you dear." The elderly beastwoman breathes a sigh of relief as you help her settle onto a bench next to the Coliseum. "Goodness, Ruggie warned me this place was big but I didn't realize just how serious he was." You nod, unscrewing the cap on one of the water bottles you brought with you for the old lady. She takes it thankfully and you breathe a gentle sigh of relief, not that Granny Bucchi had been anything more than a bit winded when you found her, but it was still worrying to see an old woman bent over like that. "I really should have just waited for him."
"Didn't he promise to meet you at the mirror chamber?" You ask, trying not to sound too judgmental. You find it hard to believe someone who spoke as fondly of his grandmother at Ruggie wouldn't want to escort her around, Granny Bucchi looks at you sheepishly sort of confirming that.
"He doesn't actually know that I'm here just yet, I wanted to surprise him." She tries to pass you back the water back but you shake your head. The two of you lapse into a comfortable silence, the sort you only ever get while relaxing with a cup of tea, or in this case a nice old lady who is genuinely enjoying the campus scenery. It's so nice Grim curls himself up into your lap for a little nap. Granny Bucchi scratches just the right place behind his ears to convince the "not a cat" to let out a very cat like purr.
"Did you send him a message to let him know your here?" You whisper, trying not to wake your baby. "If not I can send him one." She lets out a small laugh, similar in sound to her grandson's but still very much her somehow.
"Oh I am sure he'd be half way here already if he knew I had you to myself. Who knows what sort of ideas I could be putting in that head of yours." She winks and takes out her phone, squinting at the keys trying to piece together a message. "You should still send him one though, you'll probably be faster than me."
"Do you mind if I take a picture?" You ask sheepishly. "You know so Ruggie knows you're ok." Lies you just want a picture of you with Granny Bucchi. Sure, to Twisted Wonderland she is just some lady, but she is easily celebrity tier to you with how much glowing praise Ruggie heaps on her.
"Oh please do!" To your surprise she seems genuinely excited and strikes a little pose. What a natural, Vil has nothing on this woman. Not that you are going to say that out loud because you don't have a death wish. You happily text Ruggie as Granny Bucchi looks on fondly. "Do you like taking pictures?" Her voice is much softer than it has been in the admittedly little conversation you have had. "Ruggie sends me a lot of the ones you've given him from your ghost camera, I keep trying to ask him if you're planning on being a photographer in the future but he always dodges the question." She's clearly curious and you can't blame her, you just aren't sure how to answer.
"The future is a bit complicated for me." Is what you settle on, really hoping it doesn't loose you points.
"Oh you don't need to feel bad about that." Her eyes are filled with warmth and affection that you haven't felt in a long time, it's enough to make you want to cry. "Technically the future is complicated for everyone, some of us just muscle through it better than others. Case in point." Granny hauls her self up and nudges you to turn around. Ruggie is staring at both of you with a strange look in his eyes, but when he makes eye contact with you he shakes himself out of whatever mood that was and jogs up to meet you both.
It would be nice, you think, if you could do this again.
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yourplayersaidwhat · 7 months
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Our DM likes to take inspiration for NPC's from books, movies, and shows she enjoys and is a known fan of Neil Gaiman. Us players are starting to connect the dots with some new NPC's:
*DM introduces an Aasimar Professor NPC, described as wearing soft colors, cold coco on his desk, and having many books in his office*
Players: Aziraphale?!?!?
*Professor has a good size black snake just chilling on top one of the bookcases*
Players:"CROWLEY!?!?!?!?"
*Players ask about an inn in a town they are traveling through, told about one with an owner that has owned it for a long time but doesn't seem to age much*
Players: *immediately suspicious*
DM: *Describes there being a large black cat with starry eyes lounging on the end of the bar at the inn*
The one player the DM got to watch Sandman with her: "YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME"
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returnsandreturns · 6 months
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Crowley’s teased Aziraphale for centuries about not reading books exclusively because he likes the little crease he gets between his eyebrows when he doesn’t like how Crowley is behaving. He rarely gets to see it these days and it doesn’t show up as much as you’d think with some of the behaving Crowley does but the second he lounges against a shelf and says, “Dunno why you waste your time with all these books when television exists,” he’s sure to catch a glimpse of it. 
“They do the reading for you, angel,” he says. “And there’s–explosions and things. You know, ka-boom.”
He makes a little exploding motion with his hands and Aziraphale levels him with a look that would immediately scare off a mere mortal who just wanted to casually browse in a bookshop with an open sign right on the door. 
“This feels like blasphemy,” he says, “and I won’t have it in my bookshop.” 
“Oh, you let me blaspheme all the time until it’s about books,” Crowley says, trying not to smile too hard when Aziraphale’s glare turns into a pout. 
There’s an inevitability to books, though, with the amount of free time he’s created for himself and the amount of time he spends adjacent to them. He’ll leave the bookshop with paperbacks shoved in his back pocket, hidden by his jacket, always half expecting the angel to catch him as he’s leaving. His reaction would have been so complicated. Stealing is bad but reading is good. That’s the kind of black and white thinking you're taught upstairs. The gray of whether the virtue of reading overrides the sin of stealing is something Aziraphale is good at. A little puzzle that ends with the answer being libraries or politely asking.
The jig is up when Aziraphale happens upon him in the park, sprawled out under a tree with a copy of Tipping the Velvet, so engrossed in it that he doesn’t even notice until Aziraphale is standing over him. 
“Shit,” Crowley says, startled, dropping the book. “Since when do you loom?” 
“Since when do you read?” Aziraphale asks, like he’s just been given the most delightful gift he’s ever received. 
“. . .I steal,” Crowley says, sitting up on his elbows and raising his eyebrows. “From an angel’s bookshop, which is, I assume, doubly a sin. If I happen to glance through my stolen goods, that’s my business.”  
“Crowley,” Aziraphale says, warmly, sitting a shopping bag down before moving to sit next to him. “Are there many paperbacks on my bookshelves?” 
“. . .just the occasional one lying around, I suppose,” Crowley says, suspiciously. 
“And why do you suppose that?” Aziraphale prompts. 
“. . .did you trick me into literacy?” Crowley asks, gasping.
“I merely placed books I thought you might enjoy around for you to make the choice,” Aziraphale says, adorably pleased with himself.
“Well, that’s familiar,” Crowley says, laughing. “You tempted me into literacy.” 
“Do you like this one?” Aziraphale asks, ignoring that and picking up the book, the broken spine immediately healing under his touch.
“I might,” Crowley says, defensively, then groans. “Oh, fuck, I lost my page.” 
“I miracled a bookmark before it hit the ground,” Aziraphale says, handing it back to him, and Crowley flips it open to see a black bookmark embossed with his initials and a lovely snake pattern, laughing.
“Satan help me,” he says, smiling at him, “but I kind of like this side of you. Bit of petty mischief. It’s cute.” 
“. . .could I tempt you into something else, perhaps?” Aziraphale asks, slowly. 
“Lunch?” Crowley asks. 
Instead of answering, Aziraphale reaches out to cup his cheek and kiss him, soft at first but then Crowley kisses him back, trying to hold back the impulses of thousands of years worth of not kissing Aziraphale as Aziraphale presses him down into the grass. 
Of course it was books that finally did it. 
“If I’d taken your suggestion to read all those poetry books you were pushing on me back in the eighteenth century, would you have done this then?” he asks, when they finally take a break. 
“Well, darling, if you must know, they were love poems,” Aziraphale says, despairingly, starting to sit up again until Crowley drags him back on top of him.
“I’ll read any poem you want, angel,” he says, hushed, “just don’t stop.” 
“Dangerous thing to say, darling,” Aziraphale says, kissing him softly on the forehead.
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hikarry · 3 months
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You know who loves casinos? Crowley. Because he has a lot of luck in the game. Luck of the devil and all that
Every time he is (lowkey) forced to go to America, even if he is just supposed to pop up into Mississippi, he eventually finds his way to Vegas and spends at least a week there. Not only is it an excuse to wear his best clothes and look his best, but hey, Vegas is a pool of sin. Greed. Lust. Envy. Easy ass temptations. It's his element
At some point in time, while in Vegas, he comes across the angel. It was unexpected, surely, but a nice surprise nonetheless. As an angel, Crowley would have thought Aziraphale would stay as far away from places like these as possible not to get tainted by all the sins, and yet, here he is.
"Angel." Crowley approaches him from behind, leaning on the bar next to him.
"Crowley." Aziraphale answers, not looking up from his wine glass.
"Never thought I would find you in the Bellagio. Or Vegas in general, for that matter."
"And why is that?"
"Oh, you know, all the sin. Everywhere you look. Must feel like an itch to your..." He wiggles his fingers. "...angelic senses. Popped around to bless some poor, corrupted soul?"
Aziraphale finally looks up, offering him a smile.
"If you must know, I'm on vacation."
Crowley lifts an eyebrow over his sunglasses.
"Vacation?"
"Indeed." Aziraphale turns around on his seat, so he is not facing the bar anymore, but the populace in general. "Wanted to know what all the fuss about this place was about."
Crowley mimics him, leaning both his elbows on the bar, watching the people around the hotel.
"And? What's the verdict?"
The angel sighs, looking up at him again, as Crowley looks down at him as well.
"I've mostly been watching the live shows, honestly. Some are good, most are mediocre. I've been waiting for the right time to try one of the casinos."
"And what, exactly, is the definition of 'right time'?" Aziraphale opens a slow bastardly smile in his direction, lifting an eyebrow. "Oh." Crowley smiles back, slightly leaning in his direction. "Angel, you been waiting for me. What a gentleman."
Aziraphale chuckles and gets up from his seat, running his hands down his clothes.
"I could feel your presence as soon as I stepped out of the airplane, my dear."
"And what best way to fall into sin than with the devil himself at your side, is it?" Crowley offers him his arm, but Aziraphale bats it away playfully.
"Don't say it like that. I'm merely curious as to why humans seem to enjoy the dangers of gambling so much." He gestures towards the entrance of the casino. "Shall I tempt you into keeping me company?"
The demon snorts, giving the angel a final once over, before offering him a cocky smile and setting his hand on the angel's lower back, guiding him to the casino.
"Aren't you a box full of surprises." He leans closer and whispers on Aziraphale's ear before straightening himself and looking for some avaliable space at a Russian Roulette.
Alas, Crowley is certainly lucky at the game, but so is Aziraphale, even though he wouldn't call it luck. He would say "it's simple strategy, dear boy!"
They play many games through the night, but they spend most of their time at the poker table. Crowley's poker face is good. It comes with the job description. And he's got some extra points because of the sunglasses. But, surprisingly so, so is Aziraphale's. He is so good, in fact, that they stop playing as adversaries and form a team. With 6000 years under their belt of being secretive, they read each other's subtle signs easily and clean the tables like a very efficient money vacuum. They work so good together they fall into suspicious of cheating and, before they are thrown out, they collect the money and leave of their own accord, right in the direction of the bar where they get absolutely plastered.
"Anyway, until when are you staying? If given two more days I'm sure we can clean the whole of Vegas!"
Aziraphale snorts into his whiskey.
"I don't know, my dear. I think I've had excitement enough for the next year."
"Aww no!" Crowley fully tuns towards Aziraphale, laying his hand on his shoulder. "Cmon, we killed it! We could leave this place multimillionaires!"
"You know we, technically, already are, dear boy. We can literally make money out of the aether."
Crowley rolls his eyes, giving Aziraphale's shoulder a little push.
"It's the principle of the thing. Money won, not made. It has a whole other thrill."
"Mmh." The angel stays in silence for a couple of moments, looking at his glass, until he looks up at the demon. "Where are you staying?"
"Here. You?"
"Four Seasons. Do you want to have breakfast with me tomorrow?"
"At the Four Seasons?" Aziraphale nods while Crowley takes a sip of his glass. "Meet you at 9?"
"At 9."
They did meet, indeed. And had breakfast together. And lunch. And dinner. And when Aziraphale was supposed to stay for only 2 more days, he expanded his stay to 4 more days to leave on the same day as Crowley.
I don't need to say they spent the rest of the days glued to each other. Crowley even changed his stay from the Bellagio to the Four Seasons to be more "efficient", or so he says.
They explored the whole Strip and cleaned every casino they set foot in. Aziraphale made a schedule with all the live shows he wanted to watch and he dragged Crowley up and down the Strip to watch all of them and then give a very detailed review to a very drunk Crowley in his hotel room at the end of the day (aka never before 6am).
After the Second Coming, already living together in the cottage, Crowley will randomly remember that week and ask Aziraphale if he wants to go on a quick vacation and give Vegas a second spin. Aziraphale packs his bags in 35 minutes.
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demontobee · 6 months
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Crowley *suspiciously*: Why do you wear reading glasses, angel? You're an occult -- sorry, "ethereal" being, you don't need them.
Aziraphale *giving him a stern look over the rim of his glasses*: I don't?
Crowley *blushing*: Nevermind ...
Aziraphale *smug*: That's what I thought.
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actual-changeling · 4 months
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there's just something so painfully delicious about giving into desire but denying yourself the one part of it you want most.
at some point i will write the fic where they don't talk to each other post s2 except to argue and once they reach a certain point they fuck because hey, we're already a mess, how much worse can it get?
aziraphale is starved for pleasure because heaven is sterile and empty, and crowley is desperate for comfort and familiarity, so they each get something vital out of it; it's too good to stop.
but.
crowley does draw one line, one boundary he refuses to cross, and that's kissing. mind you, aziraphale wants to kiss him again and again and again, but crowley knows that once he kisses him again he will lose himself in it (or rather that's what he's scared of). he wants to, god, he wants to. but he doesn't
sex, yes, but nothing soft, nothing truly emotionally intimate. crowley bites back every moan that's suspiciously shaped like aziraphale's name and keeps the angel's mouth busy so he doesn't have to hear him gasp his own. they part immediately after, crowley runs because that's what he is good at, he flees or makes aziraphale leaves, and he hates himself for it a little bit more every time he does.
they don't kiss but every once in a while their faces end up close together, so close they're breathing the same air, and it would barely take a flinch to nudge their lips together. the temptation becomes harder to resist and yet crowley closes his eyes and pulls back without fail.
once they kiss, he thinks, then aziraphale will have everything he wants. once he has everything he wants, he won't come back; they'll be done. every time he repeats it to himself it sounds more like the truth and less like a lie, and someone help him, but he'd rather have scraps and touch and skin on skin than nothing at all.
(while they have their gay little issues going on everyone else solves the apocalypse and watches them from afar like
"someone should tell them they're being idiots"
"nah they wouldn't believe you, they will get there eventually."
"i give them two weeks"
"i give them five days")
(it takes them months but once they get there the wave of relief and release is strong enough to cause a two day blackout in the entire london area)
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indigovigilance · 6 months
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Maggie is Possessed
This is my second meta! My first one is here.
I’m not the first fan to be suspicious of Maggie but I’m going to argue why she might be possessed (and I hypothesize that specifically she is possessed by an angel), rather than being eldritch herself, and will propose some reasons why the hitchhiker might be doing this.
First, a quick list of her early observable behaviors:
She cannot spell urgency
She signs “very faithfully yours”
She refuses to drink alcohol
Golden angel-wing earrings, anyone?
Have you seen those clothes?
All of those things are angelic, but why possession, specifically? Evidence is presented in order of chronology and not necessarily how strong it is, below the cut:
First: The timeline is weird. She’s eight months behind on rent, and suddenly decides she needs to speak to Mr. Fell “on a matter of some ugrency” and insists she can be out by next week. It’s inconsistent behavior that could indicate that a new decision-maker has taken over. First-point-five, she calls Aziraphale an angel: does she know?
Second: re-watch the first coffee shop scene, S2E1 at 13:20. Yes yes, it reads like a cute lesbian flirtation scene. That’s the cowrie shell. Pick it up. There’s a caraway seed underneath. When she arrives at the coffee shop for the first time, Maggie’s confused “ah, yes, coffee” might not be the flustered redirect you thought it was, but rather indicating that whoever is riding around in that body doesn’t actually know how a coffee shop works. But Nina (to Hitchhiker!Maggie’s relief) remembers her order. So Human!Maggie has been here before, in fact, Nina calls her a regular, to which Hitchhiker!Maggie says “oh right, yes, I’m that.” Not sus at all, sister.
Third: During the “herbal tea” exchange, Maggie says to Nina that “I didn’t go to parties” and she was “not that sort of teenager.” On it’s face it reads like she was a goody-two-shoes human teenager, but consider for a moment that whoever is speaking right now was never human; the statement isn’t a lie, but its very misleading. Who else do we know that does that?
Fourth: During the lock-in, Maggie tells the story of how her great grandmother’s store was in a corner of Mr. Fell’s bookshop, so he lets them stay on for old time’s sake. One possible interpretation of this phrasing is that Hitchhiker!Maggie knows that Aziraphale has owned that shop continuously for at least 100 years. Nina is the one that suggests that it was actually Aziraphale’s grandfather, and Maggie nods along.
Fifth: Maggie says it’s a “coincidence” that the power goes in and out when Crowley passes by; could read as a deliberate redirect from someone who actually knows that Crowley is a demon? But more on that later.
Sixth: I’m skipping a lot of intervening content BUT at the ball, during the dance, she says “this is just what we do, isn’t it?” to which Nina emphatically replies that no, it isn’t. So even though Nina has been effected by an emotion-suppressing aura, she hasn’t lost her memory of how society generally works in 2023, but somehow Maggie isn’t up to date. This is parallel to Point #2, not knowing how to order coffee.
Seventh: Aziraphale’s attempted miracle memory wipe doesn’t work on her. I’ve seen others suggest that it’s due to a miracle blocker but all of his other miracles work, so…
Eighth: Nina calls her “angel.” You thought it was cute. It’s not. It’s a double-bluff. She’s actually an angel.
Ninth: She tells Crowley that “we’re real people.” Okay, human police officer Inspector Constable, whatever you say.
The rest of this is wild speculation. Abandon hope all ye who read below the fold.
So of course this raises the question: why are is the hitchhiker here, and what was Human!Maggie’s motivation to give them permission to hitchhike?
I’ll start with Human!Maggie’s motivation. I believe that she is not just pretendy-good but a properly good person who feels a lot of anguish about her failing business, one that’s been in the family for 100 years, and guilt for not paying her rent. I think she prayed for help, and a “guardian angel” answered her prayers, and she gave that angel permission to possess her and fix the problem.
As for why the angel answered her prayers, I propose that the Metatron sent them to fuck around with Aziraphale. My evidence is that Maggie frequently meddles to Aziraphale’s detriment. In chronological order:
She puts him in a moral choice position: if he evicts her, he’s the bad guy. If he forgives her rent, he’s done something good. Both of these can be leveraged by the Metatron. Notably, after he forgives the rent, Maggie calls him an angel, perhaps to remind him whose side he’s really on *wink wink nudge nudge.*
She confides in her landlord about her crush on the business owner across the street, who’s already in a relationship?! How ridiculously inappropriate?? Maggie??!! But she does, and plants the idea in his head about love, which ultimately becomes the runaway train that makes him extremely vulnerable later.
She refuses to leave the shop during the attack (S2E5), I propose is for purposes of fucking over Aziraphale, as evidenced by…
For this part, I need you to go back and watch it. S2E6 at 3:28. During the pissing contest at the threshold, Maggie turns her head away, there is a sound effect, and that’s when she turns back to Shax and invites the demons in. Hitchhiker!Maggie has taken over and rolled out the carpet for the enemy invasion.
Maggie is the instigator of the “you have to talk about your feelings” conversation, dragging Nina from behind the counter across the street while she has a shop full of customers. Considering that the Metatron is at that very moment at the French restaurant next door, making a job offer to Aziraphale, the timing choice seems very suspect. Almost as if they coordinated to talk to each husband while they were separated.
So, it is possible that Hitchhiker!Maggie was sent by the Metatron as a spy and a saboteur to meddle with Aziraphale. To what end, specifically? Probably to get him to break up with Crowley and/or get him to return to Heaven, but ultimately, I just don’t know. I will admit that I don’t have a very strong conviction that this will become canon, but it was fun to write and I hope that it was fun to read! Leave a note if you enjoyed it!
edit: a link to another meta about why this was such an effective strategy against the husbands
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phoen1xr0se · 1 month
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No Nightingales (a Clue!)
Um.
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I don't know why it took me THIS LONG to remember that this line is from Romeo & Juliet.
ROMEO: It was the lark, the herald of the morn, No nightingale. Look, love, what envious streaks Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east. Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain-tops. I must be gone and live, or stay and die.
Can I please just draw your attention to the last line, please?
I must be gone and live, or stay and die.
Romeo is telling Juliet that he has to leave now before he is discovered and they are forced apart/he is killed.
Hmm, sounds suspicious to me...
They've been talking in coded messages since... well, always. No nightingales means Crowley is trying to tell Aziraphale that has to go, he's trying to tell him that it's dangerous - but what's promising about this is that if he's speaking in code, Crowley knows they're being watched.
I still can't say for sure what's going on at the end of the Final Fifteen, but I do believe this is a Clue.
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