#interview with the vampire#iwtv#the vampire armand#assad zaman
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I barely know who this Izzy dude is, but I love watching people lose it on tumblr about their latest fixation. ❤️
I laughed at this ask because I am falling deep into a hole of despair over Izzy Hands and everyone who follows me gets to watch as I slowly succumb to madness.
Crowley invented gender. It came back around to him like the m25 or women’s pockets but he 100% invented it.
I can believe it
Ring
Send me a word and I’ll write something cute.
It had been a month since Aziraphale had given him his golden ring. It was odd, not seeing the Angel twist it on his fingers. It was odder when he caught himself twisting it, a nervous habit he had clearly picked up from his husband.
“Love.
Crowley blinked himself out of his thoughts, looking at Aziraphale with what he hoped was an innocent expression.
Aziraphale laughed lightly, motioning for Crowley to look at something.
Ah. Yeah. He was meant to be picking a ring out for Aziraphale.
The only thing was, he didn’t like the look of any of them. The golden one that Aziraphale had given him had been with the angel for so long it had absorbed some of his presence. The rings Crowley had to pick from were all.. normal. None of them held the same value as the one he was wearing, even if the price tag was extraordinary.
Crowley sighed and shook his head, disappointing the clerk who had visibly brightened when they had initially come in and said the price wasn’t a problem.
“Maybe we’ll try a different shop.” Aziraphale was patient, his hand a warm comfort on Crowleys back. Crowley twisted the ring again, liking how it felt cool against his hands despite how much he had been touching it.
It happened to be later that day when the idea struck him. It was complex, painful and got him many concerned glances, but finally, he had the perfect ring to give to Aziraphale.
Made of his own scales.
It would never tarnish, never break, and more importantly, it was full of his own essence, a forever heat that would rest on Aziraphale’s ring finger, a constant reminder of the snake he had sworn his life to.
It took approximately 100 scales before something was successfully made. Blacksmiths and jewellers had never worked with such material before, so Crowley counted the whole thing as a success (even if his snake form was very itchy and sore due to the lack of scales across his stomach).
It was near black, only tinting red in certain light.
It also made Aziraphale tear up, feeling the power behind the ring as it was presented to him.
“Oh, Crowley.”
Aziraphale slipped it onto his finger, and Crowley pulled the hand to his mouth, kissing over the ring.
“You like it?”
“I adore it.”
Hi, have you written anything about Az and Crowley sharing a bed for the first time? I know you’ve done plenty of soft and fluffy prompts but I can’t recall if you did one for this
Send me a word and I’ll write something cute
The first time Aziraphale and Crowley shared a bed was actually a few hundred years after the first time they met. Neither of them had thought anything of it at the time, the nights had been cold and the only way to make it through the night was to huddle together as a group.
Now, the first time they shared a bed with intention was just a month after the apocalypse.
‘Intention’ was probably the wrong word to use, but the point was they had been in an official relationship for nearly three weeks, and they’d decided to have a sleepover at Crowley’s flat.
It hadn’t originally been the plan, they had wanted somewhere private to snog, and as much as they both enjoyed the bookshop, it had been tainted by years of arguments, fire and death. So Crowleys place was much more romantic.
Especially after he’d lit a few candles and miracled a few throws.
Crowleys lips felt puffy, but he went for another kiss, smiling against Aziraphale’s chuckle.
“You’re drunk.”
“M’yeah.” Crowley agreed with ease, forked tongue flicking out to lick over Aziraphale’s lips.
“Darling.”
Crowley hummed, lazily flicking his tongue against Aziraphale's lips, not pressing forward, but not moving back either.
“Darling.” The voice was firmer the second time, and a strong hand cupped the side of his face, thumb running over his cheek. Crowley complied with the silent demand and stopped licking at Aziraphale, opened his eyes to look into Aziraphales amused ones. “As much as I love your kitten kisses, we’re both very drunk, and we should probably go to bed.”
“S’not kitten kisses,” Crowley argued. “Snake kisses.”
“Mhmm.”
“You can sleep in my bed.” Crowley offered, going back in for another kiss and then groaning when he was stopped.
“Or we could both sleep in your bed.”
Crowley tried to blink the drunkness away, which didn’t work. “You tryin’ to get me in bed?”
“Yes.”
Crowley managed to push forward this time for another kiss, and Aziraphale allowed it. He did stop it after a few licks though, trying to help Crowley to his feet so they could both stumble through to the bedroom.
“Pyjamas.”
“What if I sleep naked?”
“Darling, I know you don’t sleep naked.”
A wave of each of their hands and they were both in comfy clothes. If Crowley’s happened to have a dark tartan pattern, Aziraphale didn’t mention it.
Once they were under the covers Crowley tried for more kisses, though he quickly settled for just pressing his forehead against Aziraphale’s, sharing his slowing breaths.
All in the all the first time they shared a bed while in a relationship went by without much fuss.
Though really, the morning was a completely different situation.
It wasn’t often one woke up to a snake wrapped around them, after all.
Vampire
Send me a word and I’ll write something cute.
Crowley was having an off day. They happen every few years, not often enough for him to worry about them, but often enough for him to recognise when they were happening. He knew it was an off day when he woke up and couldn’t get his hair to stick how he wanted it to. It was reinforced by the bird shit on his car, and then again when he got to the bookshop to see a crowd.
Whatever the angel had managed to get himself into, Crowley wasn’t interested. Even if he was being sent looks of terror and pleads for help.
Crowley flops onto the sofa like he owns the place, which he supposed he almost did. Sighing, he closed his eyes and slumped, listening to the sounds of the bookshop and the customers around him.
“Excuse me, mister.”
The light pat to his arm had Crowley blinking, turning to face a very small girl.
“R’you lost?”
“No.” She clutched a book in her arms, head tilting in that curious way a child’s head tilted.
“Whatd’ya want then?”
“Will you help me with my vampire story?”
Crowley made a sound of confusion.
“Well. My Mom said that vampires look scary. They wear all black and are very grumpy all the time. And that the light hurts them.” She pointed to Crowley’s sunglasses. “So you must be a vampire. Which means you’re the best person to help with my vampire story.”
Crowley laughed. It came out of him like a punch to the gut, which shouldn’t have been as surprising as it was.
“Aren’t you a brave little thing, walking up to a vampire and asking for it’s help.” Crowley decided to play along, his glasses slipping down just enough to give the girl a flash of yellow eyes. She squealed in delight, hopping onto the sofa next to Crowley.
“I knew vampires had cool eyes!” she exclaimed, opening the book that had been clutched to her chest. It was full of childlike drawings of stick men with pointy teeth and animals that could almost be bats if it weren’t for their smiley faces and capes.
“You’re making a book?”
“Yeah. I asked the bookman why he didn’t have any books on vampires, and he said maybe I should make one, so I’m finding all of the information I can about them and I’m writing it down. I’ve got pictures too.”
That’s how Crowley spent his afternoon. The mother of the girl came over a few times, making sure that Crowley was a safe person for the girl to be around (’Mom, he’s a vampire. Of course he’s not safe. But the bookman said I would always be okay inside the shop’). By the time they were going to leave, the girls notebook was nearly full, and Crowley was feeling much better.
“That was sweet.” Aziraphale cooed as he flicked his wrist, the signing turning to closed on the door.
“Smart one, that girl.”
“Oh she’ll go far in life with an imagination that big.”
“Come ‘ere.” Crowley grabbed at Aziraphale’s hips, pulling the angel into his lap, making him chuckle.
“Oh no, I’ve been captured by a vampire.”
Crowley snorted, nosing at Aziraphale’s neck. “Careful. I might bite you.”
“Oh. Please do.”
Ghost
Send me a word and I’ll write something cute
“Isn’t often that animals are left behind,” Crowley announced one morning. He’d been watching Shadow for a few days now, trying to figure out why the cat's spirit was still on the earth.
Aziraphale had done some research himself, to see if there was any history in the cottage that might hint to its existence. Nothing.
The only reason it was still here was due to some kind of unfinished business.
It was a week later when Crowley discovered why the cat was hanging around. He’d been gardening, pulling up some weeds in the backyard. When he tugged, the ground shifted and revealed a small box. It was too small to be an animal grave, thank goodness, looking more like a jewellery box.
Shadow was there next to him, rubbing it’s ghostly whiskers against the box...
---
“Thank you, so so much.” The woman was crying, her fingers caressing the box. She pressed it in certain places, making a secret compartment open with a click.
Inside was a single ring, sparkling.
“My great grandmothers. She had buried it during the war but was killed before she could tell us where it was. It was everything to her, a family heirloom she wanted to pass down to us.”
A small figure appeared behind the woman, a little girl, clutching at her dress.
“Now I can pass it down too.”
She looked with teary eyes at Aziraphale and Crowley. A quick hug later and the couple were on their way back to the cottage.
Crowley had felt the moment that Shadow left them, and he was silent the whole drive, not even turning on the radio.
“You did the right thing,” Aziraphale said as they stepped back into the cottage. He took Crowley into his arms, holding him.
“I know...” Crowley muttered. “Liked the damn cat though.”
“You helped it move on. I’m proud of you, darling.”
Crowley sniffled and was thankful that Aziraphale didn’t comment further.
Their cottage wasn’t haunted anymore.
(part 4 and end. See also Ghost, Haunted and Ghost)
"Why does that cat, on my book, have your keys?"
Send me a word and I’ll write something cute.
“I dunno. Maybe it wants to go for a drive.” Crowley hummed, not looking up from where he was scrolling through his phone.
“Shoo” Aziraphale waved the cat away from his book, watching as it hopped down, dropping the keys from its mouth at the same time. Said keys skid across the floor, ending up underneath the sofa that Crowley was lounging on.
Aziraphale shooed the cat all the way outside, closing the bookshop door with a finality that would rival a pub kicking out for closing time.
“Those pesky felines get in all sorts of places.”
Crowley hummed. Usually, most animals stayed away from him, on account of him being a snake and all. Cats either followed the same path, or the more bold ones would attempt to eat him. Being that he was a 6ft mortal looking being most of the time, it was clear that he was going to win.
“Let me see if I can get your keys for you-” Aziraphale started, taking off his jacket so he could roll up his sleeves.
Immediately Crowley’s attention had flipped, golden eyes watching with keen interest as more forearm was revealed, dusted with white hair.
His mouth grew dry as the top button of Aziraphale’s shirt was opened, watching with unrestrained lust as Aziraphale squatted. The way his trousers strained around his thighs was pornographic, and Crowley groaned the same time Aziraphale made a noise of ‘hurrah’.
The keys were passed to Crowley without much fanfare, and the demon watched in disappointment as Aziraphale covered himself back up.
“Now, how about a spot to eat?” Aziraphale asked, straightening his bowtie.
“Sure angel.”
Ghost
Send me a word and I’ll write something cute
“D’ya think we should name it?”
Aziraphale looked up from the book he was reading to fix Crowley with a stare. The demon shrugged as if that was a perfectly good defence for the question he had posed.
“We are not naming the ghost cat.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s a ghost, Crowley!”
“And?”
Aziraphale sighed, closing his book and putting it on the counter. Said ghost cat was currently laying across Crowley’s lap, sleeping without a care in the world.
“Why do you want to name it? You know you shouldn’t get attached to ghosts, they can move on at any moment.”
Crowley shrugged, something vulnerable in his eyes. He quickly looked away from Aziraphale.
Ah. So it was that.
Aziraphale knew what Crowley was thinking, he had seen it in the flash of hurt. Crowley didn’t want the cat to feel abandoned, but he also didn’t want to get attached and mourn the cat when it moved on.
His darling, sensitive demon.
Aziraphale sighed softly, offering a smile to Crowley.
“Well, I suppose it has taken a shine to you…”
Crowley glanced over, hopeful.
“It would be an awful shame to let it stay without properly addressing it.”
The grin Crowley gave was toothy, and Aziraphale chuckled at the pure delight on his face.
“Did you have a name in mind?”
Crowley hummed, using a bit of demonic power to pet the ghost. It purred in delight, the first touch it had felt in a long time.
“Shadow.”
“Shadow.” Aziraphale repeated, smiling.
How very sweet.
(Part 3. See also Ghost, Haunted)
