Oh did I forget to put this here, yesterday?
:3 I’m doing this thing now where I attempt 1 Procreate tutorial a day. This was one originally about an ice skating moose. the tricks are still the same, just it’s Good Omens, now.
The demon sat in [Name]’s house, his golden, serpent eyes glaring at the tank in the living room. Within the tank was a royal python, [Name]’s pet snake which they had called Skales.
[Name] had mentioned their fascination of snakes when Crowley told them about his ability to transform himself into a snake. They had told him about Skales and he didn’t think much about it until he met the python officially.
***
[Name] sat in their seat reading a book whilst Skales slithered around their shoulders like a loose scarf. Crowley sent the python a cold glare before turning to the TV again. When [Name] invited him over, he thought it would just be them two. Not them two plus the snake. He turned his attention to [Name],
“You want to watch anything?” he asked, they nodded and set their book down then put Skales back in his tank. When they sat beside Crowley, he resisted the urge to hiss, Skales’ scent coated [Name]’s body. His arm wrapped around their shoulders, pulling them close, letting his scent coated over Skales’.
***
Crowley tilted his head at the empty tank. [Name] didn’t mention if Skales died and everything in the tank was still on.
“[Name], where’d your snake go?” he called out, his eyes remaining on the tank. A low sigh was heard,
“Skales got out again. If you find him, please put him back in his tank.” they called back. Crowley sighed. He loved [Name] but he despised Skales. The demon took a seat on the couch, turning his attention to the TV again.
A low, threatening hiss caught Crowley’s attention. Looking around, he spotted Skales, curling up on himself, jaw wide open and emitting a hiss. Crowley removed his sunglasses, glaring straight back at the python, his tongue flickering out, hissing loudly. Skales retreated back to the tank, a smirk lifting Crowley’s lips at that.
***
[Name] laid against Crowley’s chest, his arm wrapped around them with the other under his head.
“[Name],” he spoke, “Do you... like my snake form?” he asked. [Name] looked up at him, confusion painting their face.
“Of course I do. Why do you ask?” It was not normal for Crowley to ask about his snake form. He gave a small shrug,
“You just seem to love Skales and I was just wondering if you preferred his patterns over mine.” he admitted, a small frown tugging his lips. [Name] propped themself up on their elbows,
“Crowley, I love all of you. Snake form, human form and everything in between.” they said, “There’s no need to be jealous of Skales.” they leaned forward, pressing a kiss on his lips. He smiled at that,
“Then, do you mind if we cuddle differently?” [Name] shook their head and watched as the demon’s appearance shifted into his snake form. His coal scaled body wrapping around their figure lovingly with his head nuzzling in the crook of their neck.
“And I don’t get jealousss.” [Name] chuckled slightly, relaxing in the demon’s hold.
Part 6! So my pattern seems to be write a bit on one day and then the rest of the second day, so it’s a bit clunky but it’s getting there! Still in love with this little tiny universe, I’m excited to get into some adventures.
I really hope someone enjoys the dumb IASIP reference I put in this one.
Part 1
Crowley waited quite a long time for the angel to reappear.
He understood what had transpired, Paschar was one of the Speakers of the Word who worked with Metatron and relayed all of Her words and instructions to the rest of them. There was a certain level of smugness that accompanied this passing on of instructions, one that Crowley found more amusing than irritating; unless, of course, that smugness was being aimed at Aziraphale.
Aziraphale!
Even just thinking of his name was a pleasure akin to sleeping in a patch of sunlight. He liked the way it rolled off his tongue, somehow capturing the combination of diffidence and the anomalistic glint Crowley had witnessed in snatches from the little Keeper.
Still full of pleasure at his find, Crowley eyed the leftover belongings from the angel. There were two piles of books - one of books needing mending, and another of freshly mended books ready to be rehomed, or more likely read through and then rehomed. The long list that Aziraphale habitually kept on his knee during his work was left unfolded and scattered, one of the wooden scroll ends rolling off a little ways. His ink pot and pen were also left, one without a cap and the other with ink still drying. Crowley looked either way down the corridor and listened carefully, but heard nothing. He hadn’t seen any other Keepers since he had entered the library. He had heard one, maybe, down a corridor while stalking Aziraphale but he had yet to see another. Moving with caution he poured himself over the edge of the books and out into the open, moving towards the books. He read the titles, tilting his head to the side to do so. Apparently once the Earth was going to be finished and filled with humans, they were going to have some sort of system called ‘Law’ to help them with disputes, and it was these extensive volumes that the Keeper - no, not just the Keeper, Aziraphale - had been working his way through.
A little disappointed, Crowley ignored the books and looked at the list. It seemed very long, almost too long to be practical. On it were thousands of book titles copied out in steady tiny handwriting. Descending from the top of the list the titles were crossed out. Looking at the next handful waiting to be crossed out, the titles had nothing to do with the books Aziraphale had been working through.
Crowley didn’t really know what to make of that.
There wasn’t much to look at left here, and Crowley could feel himself getting bored without an angel to stare at. Huffing to himself again, he crossed over and slid himself up the first few shelves, finding himself a spot so that when Aziraphale returned and sat back down, Crowley would be directly in line with the pink lobes of his ears.
He truly was a self indulgent creature. He had already created a form, invaded the library space, gained the sound of the angel’s voice and - most dearly - the angel’s name for himself, and yet here he was wanting more. Always, wanting more. If he could get close enough to Aziraphale’s vessel he might be able to catch his scent.
Yes, Crowley really was a glutton.
Resting his head along the pages of a slightly less dusty volume of something called ‘Bird Law’, Crowley sighed heavily and let his mind wander as he waited in the slowly darkening hallway. He hoped whatever needing Writing wouldn’t be too long. Aziraphale had promised the books he would return, and whether the books were aware or not, Crowley was certain that he would. He would just have to wait… and be patient… ever so patient.
Sighing again, his eyelids dropped as the glowing light above them ebbed away. His body coiled in between the shelf and the books in such a way as to create his own pillow, and to nestle into a surprisingly comfortable arrangement of snake. It wouldn’t hurt to have a short nap, he was sure. He would hear Aziraphale’s return. He was just resting his eyes. After all, he was usually asleep at this time, having stayed up the entire Dawn and Day shift to indulge his spying.
Just a short nap…
Crowley wasn’t sure what woke him first: the light, the sound of approaching footsteps, or the painful lump digging into his thigh. What, his thigh?
Eyes snapping open he cursed to himself, suddenly very aware of his arrangement of arms and legs and bones all squished into various parts of the long shelf. The books that had created a rather nice ledge to rest his head on had been unceremoniously shoved onto the floor when he had slipped back into his two legged form. The light above him was glowing strong, and he felt another pang of alarm run through him as the footsteps grew closer. He wriggled, trying to untangle himself from himself, as well as unwedge himself from the narrow, and surprisingly deep, shelf.
It all happened very quickly - Crowley gave an almighty thrust against the back of the shelf to free himself, just as the panic in his brain short wired and stretched him long again, crashing to the floor in a heap of scaled coils and sore patches, just as the bare feet of the Keeper turned the corner of the corridor.
Crowley didn’t look, he didn’t need to look, he simply slithered as quick as he could back into the darkness of the lowest shelf, pulling his confused and aching form behind him.
He laid himself as low as he could, hiding behind the heavy books and closing his eyes, a little voice in his head whispering to be invisible. The angel’s feet had slowed but not stopped, and he could hear his breathing close by. He heard the rustle of robes as the angel knelt and began carefully picking up the books Crowley’s ill-timed transformation and fall had displaced.
Crowley held his breath. He counted the seconds as they passed, the sound of steady hands and bruised pages the only thing in the suddenly deafening silence.
The Keeper slid the last book back into place, his hands tracing the leather bound spines carefully.
“There we are,” he sighed, his voice so soft Crowley almost missed it. The angel sat down, moving his list and inkpot to find the most comfortable part of the stone floor. There was another moment of silence. The angel made a small noise with his tongue as he noted the dry ink on his pen, replacing the cap on his inkpot.
Crowley didn’t dare move.
It seemed to last forever.
“I know you’re there,”
An immediate flash of panic. Crowley squeezed himself further down into the wooden shelf, trying to flatten himself as if hiding like this was still an option. The angel didn’t sound angry. He was angled away from Crowley, his head turned to speak softly over his shoulder. “It’s ok,”
Crowley’s tongue flicked out of his mouth, tasting the air carefully. He didn’t move.
A beat of silence passed.
The angel moved carefully, twisting his body towards the bookshelf.
“You don’t have to be scared of me, if you are,”
His voice was so gentle. Crowley felt himself soften to it, hearing that lyrical voice ease over his words in such a careful manner. The angel moved again, deliberate and slow as he lowered himself to the floor. Crowley could hear the puff of breath squeezed out of him as he bent towards the shelf.
“Let me see you, little thing,” came the voice again. Crowley couldn’t move. He felt something warm and sharp inside his chest, caught somewhere between exhilaration and sickening dread. How in Paradise was he even to begin explaining this?
One of the books by Crowley’s head twitched, causing all logical thought to exit Crowley’s brain. He watched as the book was slowly pulled free, light spilling from behind it as a hand moved to remove another, and then another. Crowley stayed frozen, the light almost overwhelming him as the Keeper - Arizaphale - bent his head to look inside.
Such blue eyes.
Blue eyes that crinkled into a soft smile. The angel crossed his arms over themselves and rested his chin on them, and smiling at Crowley like he was pleased to find him there. Crowley’s tongue flicked out again, and was rewarded by a new scent that differed from the books and the dust. A warm scent with hints of full bodied sweetness, and more that Crowley couldn’t identify. Crowley’s tongue flicked again, immediately wanting more of it. Arizaphale’s smile widened as his eyes focused on Crowley’s tongue.
“Oh, how marvellous,” he said gently. “What a lovely tongue you have, little thing,” he said so softly.
If a coherent thought had managed to pass through Crowley’s head, it would have short circuited him all over again.
“Won’t you come out into the light? I would so like to see you,”
Aziraphale’s eyebrows tinged up in the middle with this request, a look of sincerity on his entire face. Crowley found himself moving his head forward before he knew he was doing it, his gaze fixed on the sky blue eyes that tracked his movement with delight.
“Oh, look at you! What beautiful golden eyes you have,”
The angel’s smile broke into a grin, the crinkles around his eyes growing deeper and Crowley blinked steadily, overcome. They stayed there for a moment in time, face to face. Aziraphale just smiled at him, his eyes flicking from the cascade of scales along his neck, to his golden eyes, to his flicking tongue, and he looked as if he’d never seen anything so unique. Crowley felt a feeling well up inside him, caught between pride and devotion as he himself was caught in the angel’s glowing attention.
He had dreamed of what this moment would have been like, and yet his imagination had failed him entirely.
“I think I know what you are, little thing. I’ve read about you, I’m sure.” Aziraphale told him. “Would you like to come out so I can see all of you? I might be wrong, I suppose it depends entirely on your legs - or lack of them, possibly,”
Crowley blinked slowly, and began to slide his body out of the shadows. Any leftover tinges of discomfort or pain were washed away by the Keeper’s attention. Aziraphale moved back up from the floor, his robes in a terrible state from the floor, but he didn’t seem to notice as he took in all of Crowley’s long glittering body. His mouth was open in an expression of surprise and wonder, like he’d been handed something so entirely precious. Crowley felt more beautiful than every star in the Heavens.
“Oh!”
That one little syllable made Crowley feel like he was overflowing.
“You are beautiful!”
Aziraphale suddenly moved to get up, holding his hands in such a way as he had with the pile of books by them.
“Don’t move, let me go get- you stay there, beautiful little thing!”
Crowley blinked again as Aziraphale got to his feet, tripping only once on his robes. The angel seemed swift with excitement, looking back at him with the same big grin on his face. “Don’t go anywhere!”
Crowley watched the angel almost run to get something. The shock of discovery and pleasure of admiration were both wearing off a little, letting conscious thoughts return to Crowley. He had been discovered, sure, but he had never expected such a wonderful outcome. The Keeper didn’t seem to realise he was an angel in a tertiary form. He must not have seen Crowley’s embarrassing exit from the bookshelf in his limbed form, only the failed escape back into the bookcase.
More than that, the Keeper seemed absolutely delighted with this discovery. He had yet to question why there was a snake in the library, which was probably for the best.
Very soon he heard the angel return, still hurrying, only this time he was carrying a large book in his arms. Sitting back down with Crowley in front of him, he placed it down on the floor and opened it, his eyes quickly scanning the page with one finger running down a long list, before making a noise with his tongue and began rifling through pages.
“Ah! Here we are,” he said finally, looking up at Crowley expectantly. He pointed to the page, which was upside down from Crowley’s perspective. “Snake, of the suborder Serpentes,”
The angel began to read from the book, Crowley moving to the side and tilting his head to follow the angel’s voice along on the page. The angel’s voice took on an airy tone as he read, as if savouring the words.
“’Snakes are elongated, legless, carnivorous reptiles of the suborder Serpentes. Like all other squamates, snakes are ectothermic, amniote vertebrates covered in overlapping scales. Many species of snakes have skulls with several more joints than their lizard ancestors, enabling them to swallow prey much larger than their heads with their highly mobile jaws.’”
Crowley wanted to follow along with the words, but he found his gaze wandering back up to look at the angel’s face as he read, something about the calmness from his words flowed through every one of his glittering scales.
“It’s fascinating stuff, what a clever creature you are! Although I will have to look up what ‘amniote’ is, it sounds very biological,” the angel had turned his bright gaze back towards Crowley with another smile. They stayed like that for a moment, and then Aziraphale grinned again.
“Oh, we should look up what species you are! Did you know that many of the Animals are going to have dozens of varieties of themselves? It’s astounding, She really has thought of everything,” Aziraphale told Crowley as he turned his attention back to the book. He flicked a few pages and then pointed again to a picture of a mottled brown version of Crowley.
“See, here, this is one of your many, many siblings - an Adder! Oh, and there’s a lot of different Adders too, it seems. Shall we try and find your name in here?”
Crowley looked up from the picture of a coiled snake looking rather cross and found the angel’s face smiling down at him so sweetly. Crowley could have melted in the wake of that gaze.
They sat there for some time, with Aziraphale reading the name of each snake in turn, admiring each picture closely, and laughing at some of the names.
“Oh, look at this one! What a marvellous name Beolen python is!” Aziraphale said, tracing the snake with one finger. “Oh, and this one - An Eastern Hognose snake! Look at those splendid markings.”
Crowley looked at the snake, agreeing that the markings were indeed very splendid, and suddenly wondering if he should have made more of an effort.
“I haven’t seen any yet that even come close to your wonderful colour, little thing.” Aziraphale said absentmindedly, turning the page. “The red-bellied one maybe, but your scales do catch the light in such a beautiful way - like you have every colour hiding inside all that lovely black,”
Crowley could have purred, suddenly very aware that none of the pictured snakes could hold a candle to his form.
“Oh, here we go!”
Crowley swallowed his pride as he looked at the page. A large black snake with touches of iridescent blue and gold that caught the light. It was close, he supposed with a sullen flick of his tongue.
“A D’Albertis python, what a lovely name. Oh, it says here white-lipped, but I do think your scarlet suits you very well, such a wonderful array of colours,”
Crowley froze as his felt a finger trace at the underside of his jaw gently. He looked up again towards the angel, hoping that the small trace of warmth would stay present as the angel looked at his crimson belly. The tiny moment of contact hummed through his skin like pure light, indescribable. Crowley wanted to lean into that touch more than he had ever wanted anything in his existence. He yearned for it.
“You are entirely a perfect creation, little thing,” smiled the angel. “You should be very proud,”
Crowley was, if only because Aziraphale told him so.
“I suppose you’re here because of the mice. After all, a clever creation like you can’t be kept cooped up in the workshops, much more interesting places to be,”
The book was shut now, and Crowley moved up onto it and slithered into a circular coil, resting his head on his tail to look upwards at the angel who looked down at him, still with that wonderful smile.
“I am so happy to have found you, little thing,”
Crowley felt a shiver of happiness pass through him.
