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go_exchangeTitle: great big bugger
Word Count: ~2k
Rating: G
Summary: The mighty Kraken rises up out of the sea once more... this time to seek revenge on a certain sushi-loving angel.
a/n: Hello! So sorry for the delay, but glad I could finish up this hilarious prompt! A million thanks to the previous writer, without whom this absolutely wouldn’t exist. I made minimal changes to what they’d already written, and hope I managed to keep the style somewhat consistent throughout!
Comedy isn’t always my strong suit, so I also owe the previous a debt of gratitude for the ideas they provided past what they’d written. I hope I did it justice, and I hope the recipient enjoys it!~
Aziraphale drew his coat tighter around himself as a gust of wind blew over the harbor, early morning mist whipping past. Crowley was off heckling some poor car attendant about proper care of the Bentley, and the wrath of Crowley they were sure to face if there was a speck of dust on her when they returned. He couldn’t be blamed for being a little protective. It had only been five months since both the Bentley and bookshop had gone up in flames, and both angel and demon had hesitated at the thought of leaving them behind.
But here they were. A holiday would do them good, surely. Or at least fend off Crowley’s complaints about the winter chill. Aziraphale gazed up at the twelve ostentatious stories of ship towering above him.
An arm found its way around his shoulders. He looked over to Crowley grinning expectantly at him.
“Ready, angel?”
*
Crowley pressed his face to the porthole window. “Still cold.” Grey fog hung over grey water as far as the eye could see, rain coming down in sheets. Choppy waves splashed far below their mid-level suite.
“I’m sure it’ll clear once we’re out of Atlantic waters,” Aziraphale soothed, running a hand down Crowley’s back. “Why not come back to bed instead?”
Seeing no fault in this logic, Crowley quickly sidled across the bed and under the covers, holding them open for Aziraphale to join him. Aziraphale turned to his suitcase, an old, leather thing fastened with brass buckles. He carefully undid the cracked leather straps to reveal perhaps two dozen books.
“Really?”
“Only some light reading,” Aziraphale said absently, fingers already tracing across each spine in turn. He pondered over each, muttering little comments of “too long” or perhaps “too trite” as he went.
“Angel.” Crowley flapped the blanket at him meaningfully.
“Oh, hush.If you’re going to be dead to the world for the next few hours, I’ll at least have my own fun too.”
“The pleasure of my—unconscious—company isn’t good enough for you?” Crowley flopped down into the pillows, grinning up at him. Aziraphale continued in his perusal, but his lips twitched in amusement.
“Oh! This will do nicely.” Aziraphale extracted a book bound in blue leather, a compass and “Treasure Island” embossed in gold across its front. Joining Crowley in bed, he wriggled into a comfortable position, Crowley under his arm. “Would you like me to read to you?”
“You’re not afraid it’ll give me ideas?”
“I’m sure you’ll get up to something, regardless of my input.”
Crowley snorted, curling closer into Aziraphale’s side. “Go on then.”
Aziraphale settled and turned to the first page.
*
A handful of hours and several chapters later, the rain had only worsened. Little light broke through the heavy storm clouds, casting their room in a blue pallor. Aziraphale was still absorbed in his reading, warm light spilling over his lap from the bedside lamp. He startled as a large wave broke against their window. Crowley remained undisturbed at his side.
If a raging storm couldn’t wake Crowley, a little jostling wasn’t likely to do the job. Nonetheless, Aziraphale gingerly edged out of the bed, setting his book aside. He stifled a yawn and went to the window, watching the dark sea roiling below, white caps crashing over one another. It seemed almost peaceful, watching the storm from the safety of the ship. The sound of the rain buffeting against the hull, the dull roar of the waves, was comforting behind three centimeters of tempered glass.
The floor shifted under Aziraphale’s feet, nearly sending him tumbling.
Perhaps not quite so peaceful then. Aziraphale pulled on a cardigan, pajama pants suddenly finding themselves to be a sensible pair of trousers. A trip to the reception desk was in order, where he would hopefully get some answers about when exactly they would be clear of this storm.
He could bring back the good news to Crowley, and perhaps some lunch. The sushi bar was supposed to be quite good.
He penned a short note for Crowley and set off. He pulled the door closed behind him, the sounds of the crashing waves suddenly silenced, leaving a quiet stillness. The lights flickered clear down the hallway. Aziraphale furrowed his brow but continued on, making his way towards the stairs.
The decor was... unabashed. Crimson paisley lining the walls and floors, gold lining the elevator doors and handrails. It was probably meant to evoke luxury, but truly was just a little nauseating. A crystal chandelier hung overhead, swaying with the motion of the storm.
Aziraphale climbed the stairs to the central deck, emerging into one of the many restaurant plazas, clashing storefronts advertising various regional cuisines. The ship rocked again, more violently, beneath Aziraphale’s feet. He stumbled, catching hold of a railing, and watched in amazement as water arched over the top of the ship. It didn’t seem possible that a wave should reach that high, but he supposed there was no real danger. If humans did one thing well, it was building their ingenious machines, and a ship like this wouldn’t be so easily capsized or sunk. Indeed, if he could just make his way to the reception desk, he was certain they’d know exactly when the ship could be expected to get clear of this atrocious storm.
Aziraphale, unfortunately, never made it to the reception desk. Another wave crashed against the side of the ship, setting it to a disorienting sway backwards and forwards and backwards again, and Aziraphale stumbled. Though he fought for his footing, the angel thumped down with a small oof a moment later, and could only stare up at the tentacles that swept up over the ship.
“Dear me!” he exclaimed, although it seemed to be an understatement. Some of the other passengers were emerging, giving shouts of surprise and alarm as the tentacles thrashed against the gray sky above. Aziraphale stumbled to his feet, trying to call to mind what he knew of sea-life on Earth. He couldn’t think of anything that matched this description, at least nothing that wasn’t straight out of a myth or legend.
“Angel!”
The booming voice came from nowhere and everywhere. Aziraphale looked about, wishing for a flaming sword and unsure exactly what he would have done with one if he’d had it.
“Yes?” he called out, after an expectant silence.
The sea creature, the fabled Kraken, Aziraphale was now certain, rose up at the edge of the ship. It leered down at him.
“Sushi, you call it?” None of the humans now swarming across the deck appeared to hear the voice, but it rang clearly in Aziraphale’s mind. “How many thousands from the sea are taken, slain? And what do you give to the sea in return? And now you come to the sea on one of these floating abominations?”
Aziraphale opened his mouth, but found he had very little response. Sushi? Was that why a creature such as this would come after him? His beloved sushi? But he had no more time to think on the matter before one of the tentacles swept down, scooped him up, and popped him into the Kraken’s gaping maw like a piece of sashimi.
*
Aziraphale blinked, eyes opening to a dimly-lit, dark red world. His surroundings were slimey to the touch, and hot, and he lamented the damp that was seeping into his cardigan.
“How does it feel to be eaten, angel? So thoughtlessly?”
The voice resonated all around him, and Aziraphale frowned. So it’s the belly of the whale, is it? he thought, and said aloud, “Not thoughtlessly. Never thoughtlessly. With quite a bit of relish, in fact.”
The creature swayed, and Aziraphale put one hand against the wet ground to steady himself. “Thoughtless for the consequences, though.”
“Perhaps,” Aziraphale admitted. “But does it warrant getting swallowed, really?”
“You would rather I have dragged the whole ship into the depths?”
“Well, no—!”
“Then don’t complain.”
Aziraphale’s frown became more pronounced. “And how long do you intend to hold me here? Until I’ve learned some lesson?”
“Perhaps. Or perhaps I won’t let you out for… three days, is it?”
“Very funny. I have a holiday to return to, I’ll have you know.”
“On that garbage scow? Ha. I should sink it, for all the damage it’s doing by simply sailing.”
Aziraphale though for a moment, brow furrowing, and then said, “Terribly sorry. Didn’t consider that, truly.”
“No one does,” was the grumbled reply.
Aziraphale took a deep breath, trying to overlook the fact that he was in one of the less comfortable places he’d been in a good while. “I’ll try to be more conscientious in the future, most certainly.”
“I appreciate that, really I do,” the Kraken said, sounding earnest, “but that doesn’t answer about the sushi habit.”
Aziraphale huffed. “I’m afraid I won’t be giving that up.”
And so began a long, involved conversation between angel and Kraken regarding the sustainability of the sushi industry. The Kraken seemed open to hearing how much pleasure Aziraphale took in sushi—“What exactly is this... soy sauce?”—and indeed softened after that.
*
When Crowley woke, it was alone.
Leaping from the now-cold bed, he looked around frantically. For a heartbeat he was back in the burning bookshop, searching for an angel who’d virtually disappeared. He bolted from the cruise ship room, eyes wild, and hurried up towards the deck.
“Angel... Angel, no...!”
The tentacled creature that reared above the ship was something straight out of the averted apocalypse, and Crowley’s panic peaked. He grabbed a random passerby’s shoulder, ignoring the person’s squawked objection and demanding, “What’s happening?”
The person shook their head. “Thing just... showed up! Attacked the ship! Plucked some guy right off the deck and ate him!”
Crowley’s blood went cold. “Guy? What guy? About yea high? White hair? Gay as a gavotte?”
The witness nodded, frantically, but then squirmed out of Crowley’s grip and ran off. Crowley, feeling his heart begin to pound painfully in his chest, watched as one of the tentacles swept across the deck. With all the fury of Hell behind him, he grabbed the object closest to him and charged, smashing a baby-blue deckchair over the tentacles.
“Give him back!”
There was sudden laughter, and Crowley stiffened. Clearly none of the humans could hear it. The creature’s huge, pitch-black eyes were fixed on him.
“The demon, then. I’ve heard a bit about you. Think sushi is nice as well, do you?”
Crowley felt an uncertain heat rise into his face. “Ngh...”
“It’s quite alright. Your angel and I have come to an agreement.” One of the Kraken’s tentacles curled close to its face, and it spat out a pale bundle. Crowley was shaking near-uncontrollably as Aziraphale was placed next to him, looking mournful about the soggy state of his cardigan but otherwise uninjured.
“Aziraphale, are you—?”
“Quite alright, my dear,” Aziraphale assured him, and then waved as the tentacle retracted. “Pleasure speaking with you, my good fellow!”
“Likewise,” said the Kraken, and withdrew. It sunk beneath the water, and the sea calmed as if by a miracle. The clouds parted.
As the ship’s humans bustled about, frantic and still frightened, Crowley turned to Aziraphale with disbelieving golden eyes.
“Exactly what...?”
“Don’t worry, Dear,” Aziraphale said, although still clearly in a state of some distress due to his cardigan. Scowling, Crowley gave an obligatory wave of his hand, miracling the the garment clean. Aziraphale rewarded him with a glowing smile, then linked their arms. “Let’s head back, for now. Finish that nautical adventure of Stevenson’s, shall we?”
Word Count: ~2k
Rating: G
Summary: The mighty Kraken rises up out of the sea once more... this time to seek revenge on a certain sushi-loving angel.
a/n: Hello! So sorry for the delay, but glad I could finish up this hilarious prompt! A million thanks to the previous writer, without whom this absolutely wouldn’t exist. I made minimal changes to what they’d already written, and hope I managed to keep the style somewhat consistent throughout!
Comedy isn’t always my strong suit, so I also owe the previous a debt of gratitude for the ideas they provided past what they’d written. I hope I did it justice, and I hope the recipient enjoys it!~
Aziraphale drew his coat tighter around himself as a gust of wind blew over the harbor, early morning mist whipping past. Crowley was off heckling some poor car attendant about proper care of the Bentley, and the wrath of Crowley they were sure to face if there was a speck of dust on her when they returned. He couldn’t be blamed for being a little protective. It had only been five months since both the Bentley and bookshop had gone up in flames, and both angel and demon had hesitated at the thought of leaving them behind.
But here they were. A holiday would do them good, surely. Or at least fend off Crowley’s complaints about the winter chill. Aziraphale gazed up at the twelve ostentatious stories of ship towering above him.
An arm found its way around his shoulders. He looked over to Crowley grinning expectantly at him.
“Ready, angel?”
Crowley pressed his face to the porthole window. “Still cold.” Grey fog hung over grey water as far as the eye could see, rain coming down in sheets. Choppy waves splashed far below their mid-level suite.
“I’m sure it’ll clear once we’re out of Atlantic waters,” Aziraphale soothed, running a hand down Crowley’s back. “Why not come back to bed instead?”
Seeing no fault in this logic, Crowley quickly sidled across the bed and under the covers, holding them open for Aziraphale to join him. Aziraphale turned to his suitcase, an old, leather thing fastened with brass buckles. He carefully undid the cracked leather straps to reveal perhaps two dozen books.
“Really?”
“Only some light reading,” Aziraphale said absently, fingers already tracing across each spine in turn. He pondered over each, muttering little comments of “too long” or perhaps “too trite” as he went.
“Angel.” Crowley flapped the blanket at him meaningfully.
“Oh, hush.If you’re going to be dead to the world for the next few hours, I’ll at least have my own fun too.”
“The pleasure of my—unconscious—company isn’t good enough for you?” Crowley flopped down into the pillows, grinning up at him. Aziraphale continued in his perusal, but his lips twitched in amusement.
“Oh! This will do nicely.” Aziraphale extracted a book bound in blue leather, a compass and “Treasure Island” embossed in gold across its front. Joining Crowley in bed, he wriggled into a comfortable position, Crowley under his arm. “Would you like me to read to you?”
“You’re not afraid it’ll give me ideas?”
“I’m sure you’ll get up to something, regardless of my input.”
Crowley snorted, curling closer into Aziraphale’s side. “Go on then.”
Aziraphale settled and turned to the first page.
A handful of hours and several chapters later, the rain had only worsened. Little light broke through the heavy storm clouds, casting their room in a blue pallor. Aziraphale was still absorbed in his reading, warm light spilling over his lap from the bedside lamp. He startled as a large wave broke against their window. Crowley remained undisturbed at his side.
If a raging storm couldn’t wake Crowley, a little jostling wasn’t likely to do the job. Nonetheless, Aziraphale gingerly edged out of the bed, setting his book aside. He stifled a yawn and went to the window, watching the dark sea roiling below, white caps crashing over one another. It seemed almost peaceful, watching the storm from the safety of the ship. The sound of the rain buffeting against the hull, the dull roar of the waves, was comforting behind three centimeters of tempered glass.
The floor shifted under Aziraphale’s feet, nearly sending him tumbling.
Perhaps not quite so peaceful then. Aziraphale pulled on a cardigan, pajama pants suddenly finding themselves to be a sensible pair of trousers. A trip to the reception desk was in order, where he would hopefully get some answers about when exactly they would be clear of this storm.
He could bring back the good news to Crowley, and perhaps some lunch. The sushi bar was supposed to be quite good.
He penned a short note for Crowley and set off. He pulled the door closed behind him, the sounds of the crashing waves suddenly silenced, leaving a quiet stillness. The lights flickered clear down the hallway. Aziraphale furrowed his brow but continued on, making his way towards the stairs.
The decor was... unabashed. Crimson paisley lining the walls and floors, gold lining the elevator doors and handrails. It was probably meant to evoke luxury, but truly was just a little nauseating. A crystal chandelier hung overhead, swaying with the motion of the storm.
Aziraphale climbed the stairs to the central deck, emerging into one of the many restaurant plazas, clashing storefronts advertising various regional cuisines. The ship rocked again, more violently, beneath Aziraphale’s feet. He stumbled, catching hold of a railing, and watched in amazement as water arched over the top of the ship. It didn’t seem possible that a wave should reach that high, but he supposed there was no real danger. If humans did one thing well, it was building their ingenious machines, and a ship like this wouldn’t be so easily capsized or sunk. Indeed, if he could just make his way to the reception desk, he was certain they’d know exactly when the ship could be expected to get clear of this atrocious storm.
Aziraphale, unfortunately, never made it to the reception desk. Another wave crashed against the side of the ship, setting it to a disorienting sway backwards and forwards and backwards again, and Aziraphale stumbled. Though he fought for his footing, the angel thumped down with a small oof a moment later, and could only stare up at the tentacles that swept up over the ship.
“Dear me!” he exclaimed, although it seemed to be an understatement. Some of the other passengers were emerging, giving shouts of surprise and alarm as the tentacles thrashed against the gray sky above. Aziraphale stumbled to his feet, trying to call to mind what he knew of sea-life on Earth. He couldn’t think of anything that matched this description, at least nothing that wasn’t straight out of a myth or legend.
“Angel!”
The booming voice came from nowhere and everywhere. Aziraphale looked about, wishing for a flaming sword and unsure exactly what he would have done with one if he’d had it.
“Yes?” he called out, after an expectant silence.
The sea creature, the fabled Kraken, Aziraphale was now certain, rose up at the edge of the ship. It leered down at him.
“Sushi, you call it?” None of the humans now swarming across the deck appeared to hear the voice, but it rang clearly in Aziraphale’s mind. “How many thousands from the sea are taken, slain? And what do you give to the sea in return? And now you come to the sea on one of these floating abominations?”
Aziraphale opened his mouth, but found he had very little response. Sushi? Was that why a creature such as this would come after him? His beloved sushi? But he had no more time to think on the matter before one of the tentacles swept down, scooped him up, and popped him into the Kraken’s gaping maw like a piece of sashimi.
Aziraphale blinked, eyes opening to a dimly-lit, dark red world. His surroundings were slimey to the touch, and hot, and he lamented the damp that was seeping into his cardigan.
“How does it feel to be eaten, angel? So thoughtlessly?”
The voice resonated all around him, and Aziraphale frowned. So it’s the belly of the whale, is it? he thought, and said aloud, “Not thoughtlessly. Never thoughtlessly. With quite a bit of relish, in fact.”
The creature swayed, and Aziraphale put one hand against the wet ground to steady himself. “Thoughtless for the consequences, though.”
“Perhaps,” Aziraphale admitted. “But does it warrant getting swallowed, really?”
“You would rather I have dragged the whole ship into the depths?”
“Well, no—!”
“Then don’t complain.”
Aziraphale’s frown became more pronounced. “And how long do you intend to hold me here? Until I’ve learned some lesson?”
“Perhaps. Or perhaps I won’t let you out for… three days, is it?”
“Very funny. I have a holiday to return to, I’ll have you know.”
“On that garbage scow? Ha. I should sink it, for all the damage it’s doing by simply sailing.”
Aziraphale though for a moment, brow furrowing, and then said, “Terribly sorry. Didn’t consider that, truly.”
“No one does,” was the grumbled reply.
Aziraphale took a deep breath, trying to overlook the fact that he was in one of the less comfortable places he’d been in a good while. “I’ll try to be more conscientious in the future, most certainly.”
“I appreciate that, really I do,” the Kraken said, sounding earnest, “but that doesn’t answer about the sushi habit.”
Aziraphale huffed. “I’m afraid I won’t be giving that up.”
And so began a long, involved conversation between angel and Kraken regarding the sustainability of the sushi industry. The Kraken seemed open to hearing how much pleasure Aziraphale took in sushi—“What exactly is this... soy sauce?”—and indeed softened after that.
When Crowley woke, it was alone.
Leaping from the now-cold bed, he looked around frantically. For a heartbeat he was back in the burning bookshop, searching for an angel who’d virtually disappeared. He bolted from the cruise ship room, eyes wild, and hurried up towards the deck.
“Angel... Angel, no...!”
The tentacled creature that reared above the ship was something straight out of the averted apocalypse, and Crowley’s panic peaked. He grabbed a random passerby’s shoulder, ignoring the person’s squawked objection and demanding, “What’s happening?”
The person shook their head. “Thing just... showed up! Attacked the ship! Plucked some guy right off the deck and ate him!”
Crowley’s blood went cold. “Guy? What guy? About yea high? White hair? Gay as a gavotte?”
The witness nodded, frantically, but then squirmed out of Crowley’s grip and ran off. Crowley, feeling his heart begin to pound painfully in his chest, watched as one of the tentacles swept across the deck. With all the fury of Hell behind him, he grabbed the object closest to him and charged, smashing a baby-blue deckchair over the tentacles.
“Give him back!”
There was sudden laughter, and Crowley stiffened. Clearly none of the humans could hear it. The creature’s huge, pitch-black eyes were fixed on him.
“The demon, then. I’ve heard a bit about you. Think sushi is nice as well, do you?”
Crowley felt an uncertain heat rise into his face. “Ngh...”
“It’s quite alright. Your angel and I have come to an agreement.” One of the Kraken’s tentacles curled close to its face, and it spat out a pale bundle. Crowley was shaking near-uncontrollably as Aziraphale was placed next to him, looking mournful about the soggy state of his cardigan but otherwise uninjured.
“Aziraphale, are you—?”
“Quite alright, my dear,” Aziraphale assured him, and then waved as the tentacle retracted. “Pleasure speaking with you, my good fellow!”
“Likewise,” said the Kraken, and withdrew. It sunk beneath the water, and the sea calmed as if by a miracle. The clouds parted.
As the ship’s humans bustled about, frantic and still frightened, Crowley turned to Aziraphale with disbelieving golden eyes.
“Exactly what...?”
“Don’t worry, Dear,” Aziraphale said, although still clearly in a state of some distress due to his cardigan. Scowling, Crowley gave an obligatory wave of his hand, miracling the the garment clean. Aziraphale rewarded him with a glowing smile, then linked their arms. “Let’s head back, for now. Finish that nautical adventure of Stevenson’s, shall we?”
(no subject)
Date: 2020-01-05 03:36 pm (UTC)I was really hoping someone would pick this prompt, I think the Kraken is under-utilized in fanfiction. Thank you so much for this wonderful gift!! It sounds like based on the author's note there were some issues with someone dropping out and a second author having to take over, great job on the collab!
I love the fact that the Kraken was like "fine, I'll eat YOU and see how YOU like it!" I didn't expect that hahahaa. And the fact that they have an actual conversation during which Aziraphale promises that he'll do better xD
I also love the fact that Aziraphale's luggage is just books. And that Crowley can sleep through all this xD
Thank you!!
(no subject)
Date: 2020-01-07 04:05 pm (UTC)