frog princess

Schuldig was sitting on top of the roof of the flower shop where Ran Fujimiya worked. To anyone who might notice him, he looked like he had dozed off, but the truth was far from that. Only yesterday, he had found a thought buried deep in Crawford's mind, which had intrigued him. More careful than he had ever done before, he had snooped around and had unveiled a whole mindset which Crawford never even acknowledged himself, which he probably hardly even knew about. So Schuldig had taken it upon him to help him find happiness. He had placed some suggestions, still without Crawford noticing and was now waiting here to see if they had any effect.

"Well well, who do we have here, Cupid?"

Schuldig looked up and was only half surprised to see Farfarello stand next to him, mischievous smile on his lips.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Farfarello crouched down beside him and wiped away a lock of hair from the telepath's face.

"You have been so busy making sure Crawford wouldn't noticed you were messing in his mind, that you failed to pay attention to us others."

Schuldig turned away, he hadn't imagined that Nagi or Farfarello would actually be interested enough in what he was up to, to notice anything.

"I see. What are you going to do about it?"

Just as he asked his question, Crawford halted his car in front of the shop and got out, scrutinizing his surroundings. Schuldig expected Farfarello to say anything but it stayed silent until their leader had gone inside.

"I'm curious if you'll be successful, that's all."

He laid down on his back, hands folded under his head. Schuldig threw him a short glance, happy in a way to have found an accomplice. Not that he would show anything to Farfarello though.

"Sure, just have fun at all the hard work I'm doing to keep him happy. And don't call me Cupid."

****

Eek, not sure it fitted there all that well, but yeah, wanted to write you Crawford/Aya, but it turned out more into something else ^^;;; Gomen!

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Cupid-Schuldig- mwah! Thank you, I love it! Although I'm slightly concerned about poor old Aya getting such a shock, and what Schuldig's idea of happiness for Crawford is. *g* I adore the image of Schuldig pretending to sleep on the roof like some sort of overgrown cat.

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Teehee, Schuldig's idea for Crawford's happiness might indeed give Aya a shock :P But then Schuldig's there to help Aya get over the shock a bit anyway :P
This is the second drabble where I have Schuldig on the flower shop roof and I'm starting to like putting him there ;)

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*bang*

*crash*

There was the sound of flower pots smashing on concrete.

'What's happening in there?' Farfarello looked over the edge of the roof with some curiosity.

Schuldig was lying back sunning himself, one leg crossed over the other in a pose of complete relaxation. It was only betrayed by the beads of sweat on his upper lip.

'Shh. I'm concentrating.'

Sounds of indeterminate shouting echoed from the shop doorway - it sounded a bit like someone screaming 'die!'.

'He's a bit more resistant to you than you give him credit for,' Farfarello said with interest.

Schuldig twitched slightly and scowled, obviously applying more effort. The shouting died down and was replaced by a sort of surprised muffled noise, then silence broken only by the sound of a door shutting somewhere in the house.

Eventually Schuldig stood up and brushed his jacket off. He looked rather flushed, but pleased with himself.

'That's got it,' he said.

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Muahaha, I just love this :D *huggles Louise* So very nice, and smug!Schuldig is the best! (Err, I keep on liking him more and more still ^^;;;)
All that remains now is to do this from Crawford's and Aya's point of view :D

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Okay, now this is getting dangerously long:DD

*****

Schuldig had gone out somewhere; Farfarello and Nagi had left a while ago, the door slamming after them. The house was empty and Crawford was glad because he was about to do something fucking stupid and didn't want anyone asking him awkward questions. He thought about showering, but decided he didn't want to risk make too much of this. Briefly, he saw himself holding a bunch of rose. He works in a flower shop, idiot, he thought, before snatching up his keys and jumping in his car.

The vision had struck him the same way clever ideas strike other people. Aya Fujimiya pinning him against a wall, kissing him like he wanted to crawl inside Crawford and stay there. It all seemed so obvious and simple until he blinked and realised that it was impossible. He could change the future, it didn't have to happen, just because he'd seen it. He didn't want this.

Except he did, because he'd seen himself in the act of wanting it badly, and he was never wrong. The car sped through the city, the buildings getting smaller as he headed towards the outskirts of Tokyo.

He thought about Fujimiya wanting it too.

***

Aya wondered why everyone had gone out and left him to clear up the shop. They'd all seemed a bit weird and Aya thought he'd picked up on it himself. He was jumpy and nervous, and he kept hearing odd noises coming from the roof. He should really go up and check in case it was someone trying to infiltrate the building. Although just walking through the door with a gun would be far easier.

He gasped as Crawford pushed the shop door open and walked in. Aya's gaze dropped to his hand, expecting to see a snub black barrel pointing at him, but there wasn’t one. Aya dived under the counter and yanked out his emergency katana, rolling and sending pots of freesias flying and water splashing over the concrete floor. He landed on his feet, poised and breathing heavily, the air thick with scent of crushed green stems and yellow petals.

Crawford hadn't moved, just stood there with a smug look on his face that gave Aya an unaccountable twinge in his stomach, like someone had just tickled him.

'Leave or die,' Aya yelled, raising his sword.

'I haven't come here for that,' Crawford said, eyeing the plastic buckets of roses and the toppled yuccas in their clay pots.

'What then?'

'Let me demonstrate,' Crawford said, with a smirk.

Aya lunged and sliced the blade sideways, Crawford dodged as easily as if dancing, and then was pressed shockingly close. Aya wondered briefly what this new trick was, but then had no time to think because Crawford was kissing him, digging his fingers into Aya's hair so he couldn't move.

Something happened in Aya's head. That was the only way he could describe it, like a switch flipping over to on. Very definitely to on. Crawford's mouth was warm and tasted faintly of toothpaste and he made a soft surprised noise when Aya traced the inner line of his upper lip with the tip of his tongue. The sound set off a flare of heat in Aya's belly.

Aya didn't know why he was doing this-- it was like a dream where he could do anything he wanted. It was good to find out he was as strong as Crawford; he could easily push him back against the wall and kiss him hard. It was also good to get that stupid suit dirty. It was better when they finally tumbled and half-ran up the stairs like some speechless, four legged, half-undressed creature and managed to shut the door of Aya's apartment behind them.

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Hee! Emergency katana! Switches flipped!

I giggled deliriously throughout this :-)

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Thank you! I had fun writing this, can you tell?:D

Emergency katana!

Man, I don't know where Aya keeps them, but he always seems to have one to hand.

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Eep, almost forgot to comment :P This was so lovely, the whole idea of having switches flipped showing clearly that it's all in fact Schuldig's doing but you know, this made me just happy :D Love love!

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Yay, you like!

Now for the angst-ridden multi-part chapters 4-35 where Aya is driven to despair, wreaks terrible revenge on Schwarz and is only saved by the love of a good ~~assassin~~ ~~man~~ ~~woman~~ ~~sister~~ ~~Yohji~~ ~~Crawford~~ ~~Schuldig~~ katana.

Only joking! Maybe. :D:D:D

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You should not tempt me! *despairs* You can't be joking, now you're putting ideas in my head and when I have ideas in my head I can be terribly ~~nagging~~ persistent :D I adored it. It's... perfect. Yet it demands a sequel *nods*

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Weeeell... I did think of another bit I could add;-)

Seriously though, if I was going to carry on I think I'd have to redo it to make Schuldig's manipulations more sinister-- probably I'm better off just starting something else. I'm starting to find Schuldig more and more interesting, you know. I blame you!:D And daegaer, obviously, for getting me hooked on the crack in the first place;)

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Yay! I am blamed :D And really, you should redo (even if you want to change bits in my part, don't hesitate!) and continue, this is so interesting! I shall kiss the ground you walk on if you do :D

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Bwa-ha-ha!

My evil knows no bounds! (This is sadly true, as parts of a Bracy/Gedge/Schwarz crossover popped into my head during a lull in a freaking class).

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Bracy/Gedge/Schwarz crossover

Eeeevil. So, when you gonna write it? :D

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I can feel it whimpering to be written. Even more evilly, it wants to be set on Mars. Schwarz in 19th century clothes (and not scary ones like Gluhen!Crawford). Crawford with a shiny silver Colt. And a black hat, of course. Schuldig as a graduate of a Prussian university (Rosenkreuz!), duelling scars and all. Stopmenow.

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Whoa.

You. must. write. it.

I *hated* Gluhen!Crawford - he'd look so much better in a fancy waistcoat and tall hat, sort of like a wild west gangster, but, you know, on MARS! With his tame German psychopath.

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Mmmm, yes. Waistcoat, hat, those freaky little shoestring sort-of-bow-ties that cultured baddies in Westerns wear. Very pretty. I'm not quite sure how to get Nagi and Farfarello in there as well. Nagi may be a boy they picked up on missionary work in Japan, of course, but how can any of the English characters be properly 19th century patronising of Farfarello without getting sliced within half a paragraph?!

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I just read that again and wanted to clarify - I'd have to redo my bit, not your fic!! I love your fic:)

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lovelyzelda.livejournal.com

Good Omens drabble.

Any cassette tape left in a car for more than a fortnight will turn into the Best of Queen.

Once he’d decided that the Bentley should have a CD player, Crowley rejoiced as he threw out dozens of transformed cassettes. When he’d found out that the fortnight law applied to CDs as well as tapes, he’d spent a great deal of time cursing Freddie Mercury and the offending disc.

The final straw came when he saw that the opera tickets he’d tossed onto the passenger seat had become orchestra seats for We Will Rock You.

He began to concentrate, hard.

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Hee! This is just the thing to cheer me up this morning. I'm giggling like a thing here at my desk. Oh dear. Poor Crowley. Will the Queen torture never end?

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lovelyzelda.livejournal.com

Wow, the second morning I've made better. :)

Will the Queen torture never end?
I feel his pain. I keep forgetting to take the Best of Queen out of my stereo, so every morning I wake up to "I Want to Break Free." And generally end up going back to sleep and muttering, "Shut up, Freddie Mercury. You can't tell me when to wake up.

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aramuin.livejournal.com

He was trapped. Trapped like a rat in a trap. Crowley rubbed his hands on his immaculate trousers - which stayed immaculate even though his hands were starting to sweat.

He surveyed the room as surreptiously as possible (which was saying something when you considered the 'wonders' that were arranged everywhere. He'd been trying to avoid looking at them for the last hour but there was simply nowhere else to look.

Then he saw it. A fire-escape! Objective in sight, Crowley set off at his fastest slithery pace, slinking between the patrons. He was nearly there - was in fact, reaching for the handle...when Aziraphale caught up with him.

"Crowley!" The reproval in his voice made Crowley hunch his shoulders. "Where are you going?"

"Ummm..." Crowley fidgeted. "Out for a smoke?"

"A likely story." Aziraphale sniffed. "Ms. Emin is free at the moment and I told you were dying to speak to her. Her biggest fan and so forth."

"You what!?" Crowley yelped, looking around desperately just in time to see the 'artist' coming through the crowd.

"Now, Crow-ley," the angel chided "You did promise that you'd make up for burning that warehouse down...so no running away."

Crowley pasted on his talking-to-the-scum-of-humanity smile as the human closed in. He did manage one last hissed comment - couldn't let the angel think he was going soft after all - "I wasn't planning on running, anyway."

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