#elcia

Patreon sketch commission for Jade~ I miss these characters. It’s so much fun to draw! The extra bit was added by Nitarou for fun~ xDDD

You know the worst plot hole in the animated movie really isn't things like why a random sorceress cursed a boy, or why the Prince's family never turns up wondering where he went (my theory involves a guillotine). It's not the physics of dragging a bear size beast-man just far enough over your saddle so you can get his winded ass home. It's not the fact that Belle might have been under contract as a prisoner for as little as a couple of days if costume changes mean anything. Or even movie magic like the Be Our Guest show stopping number and the convenient traversal of geography just in the nick of time to save your furry boyfriend from being mostly dead.

Got a couple little snippets that have been lurking in my head for more than a week, they needed to get out.

For one angel, who hadn't actually fallen, more like mailed in his letter of resignation so he could freelance, it was rather surprising to discover how wonderfully freeing it was to be his own man, angel rather. For starters there were no more orders to await, especially orders he would be obliged to follow through on to some acceptable degree whether or not they sat well with his personal moral compass. He'd never have to grin and bare it as he watched Heaven drown innocent children because it was part of the great plan and thus the "right thing to do". If recent experience had taught him anything it was that it wasn't, not ever, the right thing to do. He had thanked the Lord countless times in the last two days for Madam Tracy's strength of will stopping him shooting Adam. There was also no one to reprimand him for so called frivolous miracles, he was free to pop over to France for crepes or shower anyone he deemed worthy with random acts of kindness without fabricated guilt, much less the paperwork to report it. It was an utter relief to be free, and truly comfortable for the first time in his whole existence.

Aziraphale had in fact been so incredibly comfortable Monday evening that despite rarely feeling a desire, much less a need to sleep, he had actually closed his eyes to savor the feeling and had quite easily passed out. There had been alcohol involved but that was hardly worth mentioning because there was nearly always alcohol involved when he spent time with Crowley and they were still riding a companionable high off getting away scot free from Armageddon and then their own personal destruction.

His first thoughts upon waking were “oh how marvelous that was!” paired with confusion over how hard it had always seemed before to actually try sleeping. There always seemed to be something to do or something on his mind. Reading besides being enjoyable in its own right, kept one sufficiently occupied to avoid that last problem.

His next major realization was not so much that Crowley was missing, but rather that there was a distinctly delicious aroma coming from somewhere. Crowley had always been in the habit of leaving in the early hours of the morning, he liked mornings in the city best. Not that Aziraphale had ever heard him say so, but he had always sensed it.*

But of course there was no longer a reason for the demon to go anywhere unless he wanted to and even less because this was his flat after all, so Aziraphale got up to investigate the smell. In the kitchen he found one demon, minus jacket and vest, shirt sleeves rolled up, plus an apron of plain dark grey canvas, who was doing something with fire at the stove that was producing smells that made the angel’s mouth water.

“You can cook!?” Aziraphale exclaimed.

Crowley turned slightly, cocked his narrow hips and gave Aziraphale a disgruntled glare with yellow snake eyes as he tossed the flaming contents of the pan expertly one handed.

"Honestly angel! One would think you didn't remember it's a demon's job to stick things into fires just to see what happens."

Aziraphale huffed, "6,000 years and I've never seen you cook. Can you blame me for being surprised."

"I can actually, since you've never bothered to ask. But I'll forgive you if you get us plates."

Pisze za Hua Húdméi-

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