caspianthegeek
CaspianTheGeek
They/Them/Ze/Zir. 41. Nonbinary ace pirate demon. Multifandom but especially in love with Good Omens and pirates and particularly Pirate Aziraphale
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~✦♔Fabulous Trash Squid♔✦~
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One thing that really gets me about the opening with angel Crowley is that he's not just excited by how beautiful his stars are, or how fun the process of creation is, or how impressed he's made Aziraphale. He’s not in it for the glory or the aesthetics. He’s actually horrified by the idea that the universe will just be "fancy wallpaper" in the future, even though Aziraphale assures him that humans will "marvel" at his creations.
What Crowley loves about his stars is their potential. He is building, essentially, a nursery. Most of the universe's stars, he explains to Aziraphale, will come pre-aged--but his are just starting out! After they're given time to grow, who knows what could happen! Good or bad, black holes or new constellations—there are so many possible futures ahead of them, and Crowley can’t wait to see what happens.
And then Aziraphale tells him that he knows what will happen: those stars will never grow up. They will never shine or burn out or implode or become anything new. They’ll be destroyed before they get the chance.
"You can't kill kids."
“Whose side are you on?” “God’s, of course!” “Same God that wants me to whack the kids?”
"People die." "They do, don't they?"
“Great pustulant mangled bollocks to the Great blasted Plan!”
"Don't test them to destruction."
"It's always too late."
"Nothing lasts forever." "No, I don't suppose it does."
This fear has been chasing Crowley since before the beginning. It’s what caused his first doubts, put the first traces of gray in his wings. He’s been raging at the futility of watching beautiful, complex things be damned or destroyed for his entire existence, and that’s why he seems to the audience and to Aziraphale to be a mess of contradictions.
He loves to follow the trends of the times, but he clings to his classic car in an era of planned obsolescence for vehicles. He lives in an ultra-modern flat, but finds his greatest comfort in the unchanging security of aziraphale’s old shop. He hates the idea of killing children, but is willing to see a child die if it preserves the rest of the universe and foils the Great Plan. He “goes too fast,” but his most unique and notable power is that he’s learned to stop time.
Crowley hates predestination. He hates divine intervention and the removal of agency. Crowley, the architect of free will, is constantly torn between his love of change and choice and potential and his terror that everything will be destroyed by an unstoppable, incomprehensible higher power. That’s his driving conflict in the way that Aziraphale’s is learning to find his own path without following Heaven’s rules, and I am fascinated to see how it resolves.
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Do you think Crowley paused for a moment at the door to the Bookshop in 1941, wondering if he could still enter and breathing a sigh of relief when he realized he could?
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Canonically, the only time we see an angel fall in love it's with a demon. And I mean, if I had a nickel for every time it happened in the GO verse I'd only have two nickels but it's a little funny it happened twice.
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And the entire Good Omens fandom starts crying those happy sort of tears
What’s your favourite line from good omens?
The invisible and unbreakable one that joins Crowley and Aziraphale.
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I wanted a Good Omens prompt list for May, so I decided to make one. Feel free to join in if you’d like 💙 #NightingaleMay
As with any of my prompts lists: You don’t need to do them all. Create what sparks joy! And any creation matters. Art, stories, crochet, dance, song, cosplay… the list goes on. If you want to make Aziraphale and Crowley from toothpicks and marshmallows you do you and have fun with it!
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Instead of angry and depressed napping Crowley, hear me out: genuinely worried and understanding Crowley who is livid with the situation but as in love as he’s been for six thousand years stress cleaning the bookshop
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Just passed a truck that had a giant sticker that said “quality without question” and it got me wondering what sort of motivational posters GO Heaven would have
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Everyone loves to talk about confused angel!crowley:
But I don’t think we’re putting nearly enough energy into confused modern day demon Crowley:
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Michael babygirl, I apologize now for the close-up screenshots of your mouth I am going to put on the internet. Call Neil if you have issues with it, it's his fault.
Honey, why are you chewing on a ball bearing? I was going to be lenient and say it's a glint off of some saliva but nah she's suckin on a damn pie weight. I didn't see her take a bite of any dippin dots, did you? Who let her near my stash of Buckyballs that I was hiding from the Consumer Product Safety Commission? Just because you are bbgurl doesn't mean you get to eat bbpellets.
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The pain erupted as Crowley slammed into the hard earth, sliding to a stop just outside the door to the Bookshop. He gazed up to the Heavens, a sob tearing through his throat. Aziraphale. He’d lost him, for good this time. His angel, the one he loved, ripped from him. The fact that his own demise was imminent didn’t matter compared to that truth.
A part of him knew he should move, should get up. Maybe make those who had dared to take his angel pay. He didn’t have the heart for it.
A small bird landed near him, and he paid it no mind as it began to chirp and then sing. The song was familiar. Nightingale.
What was left of his heart shattered in his chest as he cried out. The bird didn’t fly away, but came closer and finally landed on his leg, still singing.
“It’s over,” he cried. “Why are you here?”
The bird paused and then chirped once more at him. As he listened intently, something else pushed through his despair.
“Crowley!” the worried voice of his angel. “Where are you, you couldn’t have fallen far.”
The demon wanted to respond, but instead he was caught up with the small messenger now fearlessly climbing his shoulder. He wanted to cry out. He wanted to jump for joy. Somehow it all came out as a broken laugh there on the street outside the Bookshop as the nightingale tightened its grip.
Aziraphale came into view.
“Oh, Crowley,” he rushed forward, pulling the demon up and into an embrace. “You didn’t think—surely you know by now I’ll always find you. Not even Heaven could stop that.”
The nightingale sang its song as the pair kissed there on the street.
#good omens#good omens fic#AziraCrow#Aziraphale#Crowley#Ineffable Partners#Caspian Writes#Nightingale#I'm soft
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Hello! My name is Caspian. And I have fallen so far down the Good Omens rabbit hole that I really don't want rescued, just toss down some crepes and play some nightingale song to give me hope from time to time.
To date, I've mostly fandomed over on Twitter, where I post lots of little short tweet stories and Ao3 where I post the longer versions when the short stories get out of hand. I'll also try to remember to tag my writing here under #Caspian Writes in case you'd like to search here for other things I've written. I tend to write gentle hurt/comfort and canon adjacent if not compliant, though I have been dragged into a crack fic and AU or two when the mood strikes.
I also cosplay like... a lot. So. Many. Cosplays. I was a cosplayer before Good Omens and since, well I started with modern Crowley in 2019 and have only rarely wandered away from the GO side. You can see my cosplays under #Caspian Cosplays or check out my instagram, which is also horribly under-updated. Blame the ADHD.
If you stumbled across me in the early days of fandom, it's probably because you found my articles over on the Geekiary or perhaps saw one of my panels at The Ineffable Con. I've been yelling about Good Omens being a nonbinary love story since 2019 and I don't see any likelihood of that ending anytime soon.
I'll add to this if I see the need to, but in the meantime, hello pinned post
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I wanted a Good Omens prompt list for May, so I decided to make one. Feel free to join in if you’d like 💙 #NightingaleMay
As with any of my prompts lists: You don’t need to do them all. Create what sparks joy! And any creation matters. Art, stories, crochet, dance, song, cosplay… the list goes on. If you want to make Aziraphale and Crowley from toothpicks and marshmallows you do you and have fun with it!
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“I love both Aziraphale and Crowley, but if I HAD to choose, I . . .” Just gonna stop you right there, friend. You don’t have to choose. Not now. Not ever.
Hope that helps.
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Do you wonder if Aziraphale stared up to the stars his first night in Eden, straining to see into the distance, and thought to himself that Crowley was right, you really couldn’t see the best stars from Earth?
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One day I'm going to actually write my S3 fic...
But until then you all can have this snippet of it, because I am in the feels tonight and I wonder if people see Aziraphale for what he really is. An angel who is horribly, irrevocably, wonderfully, in love with a demon.
Anyway, mild angst because it's the start of the long road to fix everything below.
Don’t look for Crowley he commanded himself. Above all else, do not endanger his demon further. This needed to be believable, and it wouldn’t be if he were shown to have any weaknesses. The doors of the elevator slid shut, severing his view of the beloved Bookshop. Another in the litany of things he loved that he must give up to save, even as his heart seemed to beat only Crowley's name.
If he were human, Aziraphale would say he was going to be sick. As it was he had no words to encompass the way his heart shattered within him. The smile he forced on his face made it ache. How does one pretend to be content when their entire life is in ruins?
As the elevator quickly rose, he tried to accept he would never be allowed back to the Earth again. Never feel the dew on the grass or the way the music echoed in his private Eden of the bookshop. Never see Crow—he couldn’t face that yet. He would have to soon, but it was too much. Not with the smoke and cinnamon taste of the demon still on his lips.
There was nothing he wanted more than to call this charade off. To run back to the demon and face whatever was coming together, as they had for six thousand years.
Metatron’s threat loomed. If he went back to Crowley, the demon would be dealt with. It was nothing to erase an enemy of God from the Book of Life.
Aziraphale had a part to play, and while he wanted to cling to the hope that perhaps he could do it and return home, the pieces of him that were trained as a soldier knew he must accept that may not be.
The elevator dinged open and Metatron lead the way to his new office. Gabriel’s office, his aura still permeated it. A meeting was scheduled shortly with the other Archangels, but for now Aziraphale was to familiarize himself with knowledge.
That was exactly where he wanted to be. One by one, he opened files and read through them trying to understand the tactics and strategies for the Second Coming. There had to be a weakness. If one boy could stop Armageddon, surely there was a way to end this. A way to leave them to their—what had Crowley called it? Fragile existence.
It was all he ever wanted and it seemed more distant than ever. Still, he would do whatever it took to protect Crowley and their home. If he could not go on, if his sacrifice was needed, that was one he was willing to make.
There was so much to learn and so little time. Aziraphale cleared his mind and read.
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