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#Aziraphale is the one who can tame him
lickthecowhappy · 1 month
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Ineffable May - Day 11
Book of Job
Most of this is lines from Job 41, reorganized and rephrased. See some gifs interspersed in the lines below the cut for maximum emotional damage.
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The mere sight of the leviathan is spellbinding.
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His eyes are like the rays of the dawn.
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Out of his mouth burning lamps come blinding. When he rises up mighty wills are gone.
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The sword that reaches him is naught for minding. To his countenance all who are proud are withdrawn.
Who can tame this serpent so witty?
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Who can cause his tongue to be tied?
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Who can force him to beg for pity?
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Who can make him tenderly confide?
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Who can pierce his heart with affinity?
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Who dares the doors of his mouth to divide?
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Ineffable May Repository | Day 10 | Day 12
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arcanacenturia · 10 months
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GOOD OMENS 2 SPOILERS
Something's so not right in S2 though.
The only time we "see" God is whenever she talks to Job and just blabbers stuff at him because she's bored af and doesn't have anybody to speak with except maybe the Metatron.
When Aziraphale tries to talk directly to God in S1, the Metatron tells him "Speaking to me is speaking to God" and categorically refuses to listen to Aziraphale's request.
That's weird. That's so weird.
We have no proof that he's actually relaying all this information to God. She hasn't appeared to anyone in centuries. He's also aware of Aziraphale's will to stop the arma-fucking-geddon.
He's aware of Azi's relation to Crowley.
As I've seen stated somewhere on Tumblr earlier, he's aware that just by trying to perform a teeny tiny miracle together they performed a huge ass one that triggered alarms in Heaven and succeeded in separating the two, because he's aware, and could be scared, of their combined powers.
Okay but why would he need to separate them?
A second too late, he told Aziraphale about The Second Coming, which is most likely linked to a new Armageddon again.
Related to that, we never heard God herself about the destruction of earth. Anything said about it is told by other characters. Note to myself: list up who talked about it.
The Metatron seems to be hiding something. Unlike the other (arch-)angels he's not naïve, he wears a black coat, he doesn't sugarcoat his speech to humans (and my synesthesia says he speaks Spiky, and not a good spiky).
I think it's also noteworthy that Crowley & Aziraphale don't communicate, not with words, Crowley never told Aziraphale about what Gabriel told him but he also never told Aziraphale what he found out about Gabriel in S2. He never told Aziraphale that his bosses were planning to restart Armageddon until Gabriel went Nah, that it's the reason the Metatron demoted him. He demoted the current Prince of Heaven for stopping it, then promoted Aziraphale, who is a lot more tame and also has been a cause of Armagenope to fail, to lead it.
I don't think Crowley fell because he asked questions to God. I think he sauntered vaguely downwards because he asked too many questions to the Metatron, that would put his plan in danger.
This bitch is SHADY AS FUCK and I'm honestly so eager, so curious to see what he (and season 3) is going to bring us. I wonder if he's lived among the humans, too. Besides, I feel like he's going to try (and maybe manage) and use Azi as his marionnette for whatever stuff he's preparing.
And I feel whatever he's preparing is really against God.
Thank you Neil Gaiman for this ending because even if it HURTS it's so interesting. There are so many things that could be going on behind the heartbreak. I could be going on about how Crowley probably even found out part of what happened. I've seen people speculate with good arguments that Crowley lost part of his memory after falling, and if it is the case that could be another thing done to prevent Crowley from stopping the Metatron.
There is SO MUCH that could be, so much that WILL be, and so little that we can know.
No matter in what form, I'm so excited to see how this will develop in the future.
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Good Omens Fic Rec: Petrichor & Parchment
“Mr. Crowley, I presume?” Aziraphale asked in lieu of an introduction, which was not forthcoming. The guy hadn’t even removed his sunglasses. Oh God, he had a tattoo on his face. Aziraphale wasn’t one to judge, but… what kind of gardener had a snake tattoo on his face?
Length: 33,059 words
AO3 Rating: / Spice Level 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
Best for: After Dark, Human AU, Romance
Triggers: None
Read it here, fic by MrsNoggin
*Minor Spoilers* There are some fics that I can only describe as decadent. I can't wax poetic about it, it's just the phrase that I instantly associate with a story like this. This is a book restorer/gardener au. Aziraphale has just moved out to the country and hires Crowley to tame his new garden. They are both beautifully passionate about what they do, which turns out to be the exact same. They are both restorers. Not fixing, “It’s not fixing. They don’t need fixing. They need a bit of care and attention. Some delicate surgery and healing. Someone to care for them, revive them, rebuild them, reassure them. Put them back together and help them stay that way.” Aziraphale with his books, and Crowley with the neglected garden. And of course you know how else they can use those inherent traits of nurturing and compassion.
I love Aziraphale in this. He's not written silly or overly self conscious. He has insecurities and doubts of course, but he's confident in who he is and more importantly he loves who he is. He doesn't make excuses for his passion. The scene with the town vicar was a particular stand out for me. We don't know too much about Crowley. This story is more about what's happening in the now, not much backstory. But there are plenty of clues and a small explanation from Crowley that let's us piece together a lot of the story ourselves. The beauty of fanfiction is we're all so intimately aware of these characters it's effortless to read their body language and subtle clues. This story utilizes that well. Allowing us to fill in the gaps because it trusts us to pick up on those details. Crowley here is slightly shy and quieter than some authors write him. Well, okay amendment, he's shy and quiet OUTSIDE the bedroom. But it's an excellent take that really understands the core of who he is. Love that there is some miscommunication and insecurities in their new relationship but stays realistic and grounded. They're not going to run away from each other, they're going to stay and figure it out together.
This story is just so lush and beautiful. I want to live in it. It made my heart race with tension, and burn with the romance of it all. This is at home reading. There are a couple of explicit sex scenes, so don't be reading this one where someone could be peaking over your shoulder. Unless you're into that sort of thing I guess!
Read it here, fic by MrsNoggin
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Hii,
I'm sorry to bother but do you have any fic with aziraphale and/or Crowley who use sign language please ?
Thank you for your work by the way I love your recommendations <3
Have a nice day!
Hello! Oh, interesting! I found a couple of fics featuring sign language...
A Quiet Misunderstanding by Ecchima (G)
It wasn't the first time Crowley went mute for a little while, just quietly enjoying Aziraphale's presence. It was, however, the first time it lasted more than a week...
A story I wrote to share one of my headcanons about my book boys, regarding words and languages.
Plausible Deniability by GayDemonicDisaster (E)
Aziraphale didn’t sleep. He didn’t really see the point.
But he owned a bed. And he sometimes lay in it, and closed his eyes...
For longer than he can remember, there's been a secret relationship with Crowley. But if he can't see it, then it can't be real, can it? So long as he pretends he's dreaming, it'll all be just fine.
This fic does reference use of BSL/deafblind manual alphabet. Neither ineffable is deaf or blind, but alternative forms of communication are important to them, for reasons which will become apparent. They also use custom signals of their own that do not correlate to BSL signs, and likely predate them by centuries. You don't need to know any of them for the fic however, all are written in plain English.
Erlkönig by Joseph_Amadeus (T)
After Aziraphale is left in a forest as a part of some silly initiation ritual, he meets a forester who saves his life and flirts with him like there is no tomorrow.
Charming never so wisely by hapax (T)
“And here,” said Dr. Gabriel, gesturing like a magician about to produce a tiger from a top hat, “is where we keep our angel.” He waved aside the obvious guard who stood outside the door and, fishing a ring of keys from the pocket of his lab coat, started unbolting the row of locks.
A scientific institute has hired Crowley – aka The Snake Charmer – to tame their newest specimen: a monster which wields a devastating, maddening song. Crowley might be immune to its siren spell; but the cryptid has other secrets, against which he has no defence.
- Mod D
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tindove · 11 months
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I have so, so very many thoughts about Aziraphale at this point. But it’s a lot, and also very spoilery so this is your warning for my long character analysis/rant.
My friend and I spent so much of our time after episode six specifically discussing aziraphale and who he is and how we got to this point. because we kind of needed to get to this point, more or less, for him to be able to move forward at all. And that is where my hope for the future comes from. But. As it stands, Aziraphale is so extremely flawed (and don’t get me wrong so is Crowley but that’s not the conversation right now) and I love him for it.
Aziraphale, while I don’t believe it’s intentional, takes Crowley very very for granted. And this whole season only enforced that idea for me. The thing that specifically tipped my friend and I off, before everything went horribly wrong, is the seemingly innocent and sweet line of “but rescuing me makes him [Crowley] so happy”. And we both had to pause there for a moment. Because, does it? Maybe in some circumstances yes, such as 1793, in the ones that aren’t these awful life or death scenarios, the casual ones. Easy fixes. But Aziraphale is truly the one that always benefits. He enjoys being rescued and he enjoys the excuse it gives him to spend time with Crowley (at least in the early stages of their relationship). It’s never on him to fix these things. Though I very much think Crowley prefers the aftermath and the conversations that follow these situations, rather than the situations themselves.
I don’t know. I think a good show of it was the 1941 minisode of episode 4. Because between the shaky camera and Crowley’s shaking finger as he holds it over the trigger— he doesn’t enjoy any of it— he is quite definitely panicked. I don’t know if this constitutes as Crowley “saving him” but it was a similar moment of trust that relied entirely on Crowley to fix it. While immediately after he turns it into a quip about “no paperwork” there is that visible in the moment fear that is never addressed.
I don’t know if this exactly makes sense. But I do hope I am getting my point across, I am very much attempting to.
It all does really factor back into the fact that they don’t just fucking communicate. Which they really, really, need to work on. Could of all gone just a little better if Nina and Maggie cornered Aziraphale too and gave him the talking to as well. Of the two of them. I’d argue he was the one who needed it more in the end.
For one, Aziraphale certainly doesn’t grasp what Heaven actually means for Crowley. Or how he views it, or how he views his fall. It is true that Crowley doesn’t talk negatively about the fall around Aziraphale, not that we can see, just the “sauntered vaguely downwards” comment which is very tame. And also we know that Crowley doesn’t view his angelic self as the same person that he is today. As in a functionally entirely different person. While aziraphale sees them as one is the same, which again, while sweet in concept, it just isn’t the reality of who Crowley is anymore. Because he doesn’t want to be that. He’s just his demonic self, on his own side, on their side. Heaven and Hell are both awful, he’s known this for so very very many years, and he saw the trial— which aziraphale has no idea about! And it is such a mess.
Aziraphale cannot just give up Heaven as something he’s been apart of for over 6,000 years. Especially not if he thinks he can be the best of it, and in doing so protect everything he cares about. He can make it better. It is misguided, but man his intentions are good and I get it and it’s just… sad. Because he doesn’t get it and that’s the point. Because heaven has never been good but you can’t exactly just. Accept that. Or he can’t anyway.
There is also the fact that Aziraphale just wants any sort of approval. He needs it. It’s said so at the start. That that’s one of the things he calls Crowley about in the first place. He likes to tell people about the good he’s done, and be told that what he’s done is actually good.
Aziraphale never truly gave up on Heaven. He is far too much of an optimistic idealist for that. So when he’s seemingly given the opportunity to make everything better and he is essentially being told that he— the angel who has always worried about whether or not he was a “good” angel— is the PERFECT angel. The angel capable of taking the highest position he could get. This is the highest form of approval, something he’s always wanted to hear, from the place who never gave it to him. And it just completely blinds him to the fact he already has that approval and that’s all he really needs. Because it is so hard to give Heaven up. It is ingrained in him to want that.
Going back to my point early, Crowley does genuinely love helping Aziraphale, that much I believe, but Aziraphale puts far too much faith in him to the point it becomes detrimental. Because Crowley will always go along with what Aziraphale asks of him— or well— as far as he can I suppose. The whole business with Gabriel was almost his limit, but he stayed, because he doesn’t want to see Aziraphale hurt. So he puts them both at risk. Because he knows Aziraphale is too kind to not help, even knowing the possible consequences.
Crowley always helps Aziraphale, he will always be there for Aziraphale, whether he’s wanted or not. Because he will try. And while I know Aziraphale functionally feels the same he cannot express that in the same manner. Again. He takes him so for granted. Even at the end. Crowley makes it clear he needs to talk, and he needs Aziraphale to let him talk. And I know Aziraphale is excited and overwhelmed by the offer, but he completely disregards Crowleys request and speaks over him anyway. And Crowley let’s him, because of course he does. And their faith in each other is just so… it kills me when they read each other completely wrong. Because again, they don’t talk, so much of what they do is assuming they’re both on the same page and it just doesn’t work.
But no, back to what I was saying, the limit comes when Aziraphale disregards everything they’ve been through for this deal. Even if he doesn’t see it that way, even if Aziraphale sees this as the best possible outcome for them, even if he sees this as a perfect solution. It can’t be, not just for the reasons that there is no way Metatron has any good intentions here and the institute of heaven is fucked and Aziraphale won’t be able to fix it. But because this deal disregards Crowley for who he is.
So much of this season, flashback wise, was Aziraphale unlearning the things that Heaven idealizes. The things that get put into perspective to him by both Crowley and humanity. And he still does know and understands these things, but Aziraphale IS selfish. He’s always been selfish. He says so himself. He’s trying to have everything he wants all at once. And that’s just not possible.
They need to work on themselves without the other present, or at least Aziraphale does. Because as it was said, they did not have anyone else. Their relationship was one of necessity, and in the end, then it became all they had. Then there was no one else. All they had was each other.
Crowley has already long since chosen Aziraphale, their side, their lives together. Aziraphale still hasn’t. And he needs to be able to make that choice for himself. As much as it physically pains me this separation will likely lead to Aziraphale truly realizing that this is what he actually wants. He needs to make that choice for himself.
I feel like I have so much more to say. But this is already so, so very long. So maybe that’s for another time.
I really truly did enjoy this season so much. And I love them all so much. Even if it did crush my heart more than just a little. I am getting a kick out of all the character analyzing though, had to give it a go myself.
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silvormoon · 8 months
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Halloween at the cottage in the South Downs
Aziraphale gets really into the idea of autumn coziness. Soon as the leaves start changing he breaks out in fuzzy sweaters and patchwork quilts. Anybody who wanders into his general vicinity during that time period is probably going to be handed a mug of sweet cider, hot cocoa, a toffee apple, a popcorn ball, some sort of pumpkin-themed pastry, or some combination of the above. The neighbors invent a lot of excuses to drop by and visit him for precisely that reason.
Crowley will also give cider to select adults, but his cider is closer to scumble.* It is positively delicious and also packs a punch like an oncoming freight train. Where and how he acquires the stuff is a well-kept secret. Anyone who asks him about it gets told that it has to do with using the right sort of apples, but he will not elaborate on what those are. Wherever it comes from, he seems to be about the only person capable of drinking more than a small glassful and still remaining upright and coherent. Aziraphale's stock with some of the rowdier locals went up considerably when they persuaded him to try some, and he downed the whole glass, said it was quite nice but he prefers the sweet kind, and got on with what he was doing with no apparent effects.
The neighbors have decided that Mr. Crowley wears those sunglasses of his for some sort of medical reason. The only time anyone has ever seen him take them off is during the week or so leading up to Halloween, when he swaps them for a pair of yellow slitted contact lenses. They are very realistic and much admired as a seasonal accessory. He once allowed as how they were terribly expensive and probably not worth all the fuss and bother it took to get them, but he likes them and his husband thinks they're pretty.
Aziraphale has become something of a hero to the local kids. Generally he tries to enforce a certain level of good behavior, but when he found that a neighbor had been handing out those little religious pamphlets instead of candy and the kids were planning on egging their house, not only did he not stop them, he went and got his husband and told him to fetch more eggs.
Crowley's developed a bit of a reputation for his sangfroid. Everyone in the neighborhood knows that there is no haunted house or scary movie that can get so much as a flinch out of him, and this has led to a certain amount of speculation as to what he did before he moved into the neighborhood. About the only time anyone has ever seen a Halloween movie get any kind of reaction out of him was when he brought his husband along to a backyard bedsheet-and-projector movie show someone was hosting. Even though it was a pretty tame and family-friendly film compared to some of the ones he'd sat through, he still felt the need to cling to his husband for comfort during the creepy bits. No one is under any illusions as to why this happened.
Any time there is a costume party, there is at least a fifty-fifty chance that the two of them will turn up in the guise of an angel and a demon. They switch back and forth from year to year as to who goes as what, and they are both amazingly convincing in both roles. A few people have gone so far as to speculate from their oddities and vagueness about their pasts by suggesting they really might be supernatural entities, but there is no agreement as to which is which, or whether they are both the same thing, and if so, what that is. Once they find out about this, they start dropping hints, but since they consistently contradict both themselves and each other, this does not help.
Come Halloween, their house is a child's paradise and a parent's nightmare because they give away such ridiculous amounts of candy. Aziraphale is generous in that regard anyway, but Crowley seems to take a positive delight in loading the kids down with as much sugar as they can carry away. You already got candy from Aziraphale? Fine, you're getting more from him. You've already been past this house three times already? Brilliant, you get a reward for going the extra mile. Halloween was yesterday? Who cares, Aziraphale bought tons of the stuff when it went on sale and now they need to get rid of it before he starts wanting to buy Christmas candy. *Scumble is a drink popular on the Discworld. It's made from apples… well, mainly apples. It's been known to dissolve spoons.
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tenok · 8 days
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The point (one of them) is that both Aziraphale and Crowley actually think they the smartest one in any given situation. And since I relate to Aziraphale much more today I get fixated on his brand of superiority. He starts his journey with rebellion from pretty tame "I don't get why they makes this desisions and it's look horrible on surface evel but I'm sure that they get best ineterests of everyone involved in their hearts and it's probably me the one that didn't get some oblivious detail" to "oh okay I'm sure it's some kind of misundestanding and we can all talk it out as adults because we there work on same goals" to frustrated "they won't ever listen to me and I will get in trouble for arguing and it will be better for everyone if I will make my desisions in secret and go behind their backs because I just can't let THEM make desisions that will destroy everything". It's not straightforward, I'm 30 and still circulate sometimes between "what if it's me the one that wrong aout everything" and "god HOW people can be THAT stupid", but I remember going throught this stages first as good and obedient kid with really stupid parents making stupid desisions and later with school, govermnet, activist spaces etc.
And the problem is, I was the smartest person in the room enough time to develop issues, and Aziraphale lives like his for 6000 years at least. I can only imagine how many times he thought "if only Starmaker listen to me and didn't Fall", "if only God listened to me and didn't make an Apocalypse happen", "if only Heavens listened to me and didn't did this or that that thing", "if only Crowley listen to me and understand in what kind of danger we can get", "if only that human listened to me and haven't dig the body", etc etc. It's awful, to be the one who always gets to say "I told you so", especially when there's such awful consequenses you can't even feel satisfaction, and you will be the one to clen this mess up (and Aziraphae will clean, or better try to prevent). Now, it's of course leads to issues. BIG issues.
1) It's really hard to stop being plotting and maciavellian and communicate things properly when you expect that person will at best argue with you, at worst punish you and double down on their stupid desisons and you will clean this mess up. It also really hard to stop trying to control everything because you already accepted that everything is your responsibility and everyone else would just make things worse. (as someone that relates to Aziraphale I think he did so much progress there, the levels or trust he shows Crowley are amazing for two beings that probably last time heard of psychotherapy when Freud was alive. but such trust is fragile thing, one misstep and you back on your "it will be better if I do everything alone" bullshit. I'm not saying it's good. I'm also not saying that it's bad. it's just how things work)
2) It makes you overstep other people authonomy, because, again, it would be better for everyone if they did what you think best for them. It works funny wih Aziraphale because yes he's all for free choices for humanity!! NOW GO AND DO SMART CHOICES DAMN YOU!!! WHY YOU DON'T PICK THE THING THAT WOULD BE SMART TO PICK I HATE YOU ALL. That's where me and Aziraphale difer a little because at least I somewhat good at stepping into other people shoes and understand why they do what they do. But angel there is autistic (or bad at this specific thing for other reasons), so I think when people he consider reasonable doesn't agree with him for their own reasons he ge's really baffled, like, there arE correct opinion and it's mine, WHY are you being difficult?? to spite me?? And I'm sure that half of the reason why Aziraphale's so comfortable with Crowley is that he perfectly happy to let him buly or manipulate him into doing things Aziraphale picks as right. Usually Crowley know where pick his battles and how to play long game to make Aziraphale agree for really important stuff he wants from him, but otherwise? Sure he will complain how he hates Hamlet but they will watch Hamlet, and Aziraphale will be very pleased with himself. (and than there goes final fifteen and we back at "but WHY won't ypu agree with thing I pick or us IT'S GOOD AND RESONABLE THING" and we should be happy that consent is something that imporant for our angel ok? he would be angry with Crowley for picking wrong but he won't make him do what he doesn't want. they respect each other like that.)
3) It makes you really really tired and tense. You control everything, unfortunately the longer you do it the more things starts really depedend on you, you can't let go, you don't know anyone that can share this burden with you because first they should prove that they won't blow his up and for this you should share at least something with them, but what is they would blow it up? Better be safe than sorry. And look when it's my problems it's credit cards and doctor appointmens and with Aziraphale we talk about people dying. Crowley dying. Now, as I said, he actually shows Crowley so. much. trust. for someone with such issues. Because Crowley was there for 6000 years, and he proved himself capable enough times. But still there's areas where let go and not worry would be impossible for Aziraphale, Crowley's safety being one of such things (you see, you can risk with your life when you deal with your problems because whatever you will clean shit up if needed, but if someone close to you hurt themself?? it's YOUR problem too but it will be SO MUCH HARDER to clean. I think when Aziraphale points to Crowley that hell would be harder on him than he can expect heavens to punish him, it's partially because he believes it's true and partially because he knows how to minimize harm when heavens angry with him but HOW can he do this for Crowley??). Anyway. Lol. The more I think about it the more I sure that Crowley without Aziraphale would be a miserable angry dick, and Aziraphale wihout Crowley would be dead, because it was the one person that kept him one tiny slip away from total burn out.
So yeah there's a lot of posts about how angry heartbroken etc Crowley will be with Aziraphale (I don't agree but that's for other post), less posts about how sad and heartbroken will be Aziraphale, but I hope to see Azyraphale being angry too (it they will be angry with each other at all). Not only for not picking him or leaving or making everything messy and emotional and wasting their first kiss at their fight etc, but also because Aziraphale was trusting him! Trusting that he get another resonable adult in team with him! Someone who he can trust to make resonable desisions and see his ideas as clever and him as capable and being willing to go to the end of the world with him with mild complaints and than!! When he did trust him to understand!! He was like everyone else!! Unresonable and emotional and angry with him and why he asked him at all he should've do it secretly and alone as always and it would've be as usual and it wouldn't hurt but it was Crowley that taught him to trust and to ask him for help!! Breaking his perfectly fine coping mechanisms!! It's all his faut if you think about it huh?? (but of course he's already forgiven. but also Aziraphale would do what he needs to do alone this time, as one and only capable adult in the world.)
Anyway it's not a meta it's just some late night thoughts. And it's in no way whole analizis there's so much more problems inside this angel. It's just something in particular that resonated with me today. Also it's not in any way critisizm of him, mind you, because a) he does really the smartest person in the room most of the time and b) I LOVE how fucked up in the head he is!!! I think he needs to become even more fucked up actually!!! and Crowley should love him for that and I will cheer for him from sidelines!!!
#good omens#Aziraphale#does it counts as meta if it's half projection but also you're the smartest person in the room and always correct hmm?#I'm always afraid to talk about how trauma made aziraphale not only the most suffered being in world but also a huge insufferable bitch#because no one gets him like me no one wants to love him for that!! aside of Crowley#I'm like 'can't relate to religious trauma but remember being super fucking tired at like 8 yo because parents beat me hard enough to leave#bruises for weeks and I was angry with them because of course they didn't remembered that I'll have a medical exam at school next week and#now I need to be a resonable one and invent a cover up good enough so there won't be Questions'#and don't get me started on money thing#*sigh* if only Aziraphale was also good at getting people. but I guess Goddess desided he'll be too powerful#also *for me* it'll be beautiful if Aziraphale would be angry with Crowley for leaving and not with himself for asking at all#I want them have a long talk about motives and why Aziraphale thought it'll be good idea and why Crowley said no and how they could prevent#this in the future....but the worst lesson Aziraphale can learn there is 'actually I should never again trust him with big desisions and#I should never again ask him for things that's Big and Important for me'#so yeah that's where Crowley will need to repair things.#tdh I'm glad that final fifteen blow up and Crowley was the one being angry and explaining nothing and running away#because I love Aziraphale but I'm almost sure that even with Crowley being calm and resonable there he would've make same choise#because situation was attuned to his weak spots just too good. I can't imagine scenario where he's not leaving#but it'll be much harder for me to see if Crowey was resonable one lol. not like fandom doesn't pretend that he isn't but you know. not by#my standarts. (now in perfect world they would talk to each other calmly compromise and make backup plans together. but they're still#learning so it's fiiine they'll get there. I hope to see them communicate flawlessly while bullshitting heavens and hell in season 3)
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k1ranishf4 · 9 months
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Has anyone talked about how well Borderline by Tame Impala works for Aziraphale and Crowley, yet?
I can’t think of much about the first four lines “Gone a little far; gone a little far this time with something. How was I to know; how was I to know this high came rushing”. Only thing I can say is that I’m absolutely convinced that this is from Crowley’s point of view. Can’t explain it but I feel it.
I was thinking about directing it to the kiss but the lyrics feel too unfitting to embody that. I thought maybe it could be seen as “I’ve gone too far by kissing him” but then the ‘how was I to know’ wouldn’t exactly fit and the lyrics are “gone a little far with something’, which means that he knows he’s gone too far but he doesn’t know with what. Perhaps that’s where the kiss fits. But I still don’t know how to interpret the ‘how was I to know this high came rushing’.
Partially because I don’t exactly know what ‘this high’ is supposed to mean contextually, seeing as English is my third language, and Google didn’t clear it up either. The definitions that make the most sense to me are
“a feeling a person gets when they are so successful with the opposite sex, that they continuously go after the opposite sex, until they hurt a person along the line and crashes into depression afterwards”
and
“an emotional high is that feeling you get when you felt so emotional that you fell intoxicated to the point where your body feel like it’s drunk/high as well / Top emotions in this high are normally sadness,lonlyness, and anger” [Source for both]
The last one, in particular, is very self explanatory if you ask me. Crowley definitely felt sad, lonely and angry about the whole ordeal. Sad because he probably thinks that Aziraphale rejected him; lonely because his only best friend, who had been around for 6000 years with him on Earth, left and probably won’t be back for a while and he’s on his own side again. Angry because how could Aziraphale not see the obvious? Heaven is as bad as Hell, they need to get away from both sides, yet the angel insists on going back and changing things.
“We’re on the borderline, dangerously fine and unforgiving” I interpret Earth as ‘the borderline’ between Heaven and Hell where they’re both doing fine, yet there’s always been the threat of Heaven and Hell discovering that they were working together instead of against each other. However, I can’t exactly find a point for ‘unforgiving’ since it doesn’t apply to Aziraphale, at all. However, Crowley’s very unforgiving towards Heaven, I’d say, and probably also towards Hell. I don’t exactly know how to explain that, though.
“Here I go. Quite a show for a loner in L.A.; I wonder how I managed to end up in this place, where I couldn’t get away” I feel like this applies to Crowley, specifically his Vague Saunter Downwards. When we ignore Aziraphale’s existence for a moment, Crowley’s just a loner on Earth, putting on a show for Hell by taking credit for the horrible things the humans have came up with over the centuries, even though he never wanted to be in Hell and knows he’ll never be able to truly leave, either.
“We’re on the borderline, caught between the tides of pain and rapture” I had to look up what rapture meant, in the first place, and found two definitions:
1) a feeling of intense pleasure or joy / (raptures) expressions of intense pleasure or enthusiasm about something
2) (the Rapture) North American (according to some millenarian teaching) the transporting of believers to Heaven at the Second Coming of Christ: thousands of Christians gathered outside Rochester and other cities, awaiting the Rapture.
verb [with object] North American
(according to some millenarian teaching) transport (a believer) from earth to Heaven at the Second Coming of Christ: people will be raptured out of automobiles as they are driving along.
I’m going to go with the second definition, for obvious reasons. So, ‘pain’ means Hell and ‘rapture’ means Heaven, obviously. Connecting that to Aziraphale and Crowley, I’d say they’re just stuck in the middle of it all (which is the whole point, no need to theorize).
“Then I saw the time, watched it speedin’ by like a train; like a train” This could be linked to the 6000 years that they’ve spent together that they watched come and go or to their first conversation in Heaven, before it all began, when Aziraphale told Crowley that everything would be shut down again after 6000 years and the time basically flew and Armageddon was at the door. Or, to the “past few years” that Crowley was referring to when they hadn’t been bothered by either, Heaven or Hell.
“Will I be known and loved? Is there one that I trust? Starting to sober up, has it been long enough? Any closer, close enough. I’m a loser; loosen up. Setting free, must be tough. Will I be known and loved? Is there one that I trust? Starting to sober up, has it been long enough? Will I be so in love? Any closer, close enough” I think this whole passage is a representation of what could be the thoughts of both, Aziraphale and Crowley (separately, of course).
Although, the ‘will I be known and loved’ seems kind of unfitting for both of them. Crowley doesn’t exactly care about what Heaven and Hell could be thinking about him and Aziraphale doesn’t make a lot of effort to be liked by the other angels. However, all of this applies to each other, wondering if the other would ever love them back, to broadly summarize my rapid thoughts.
“Shout out to what it’s done. R.I.P. here comes the sun. Here comes the sun” I’m not exactly sure what this part means, in general, but maybe it’s a metaphor for a new day, which basically means returning to reality after waking up from a dream? That’s how I’d describe it, at least.
I’m not certain about how to link this to either, Aziraphale or Crowley. Perhaps it could mean a reality check for both of them when the Metatron came? I don’t know how to properly formulate this, but, like, they had been living in their delusions, hadn’t they? Perhaps not together or about each other, but while setting up Nina and Maggie? Or while trying to hide Gabriel from Heaven and Hell and thinking they could succeed but ultimately failing in the first second by performing that miracle? Or Aziraphale when he organized the ball and Crowley when he made it rain? (which both fall under the category of setting Nina and Maggie up, but hey)
“Gone a little far; gone a little far this time or something. Rudi said it’s fine, they used to do this all the time in college” Now that I’m thinking about it, ‘gone a little far’ could also imply that Crowley went too far by suggesting that Aziraphale runs away with him and ‘Rudi said it’s fine, they used to do this all the time in college’ fits Gabriel and Beelzebub, in my opinion. Specifically, Crowley’s “if Beelzebub and Gabriel can do it, go off together, then so can we” because why couldn’t they? It’d be so easy.
I don’t know if I’m able to take my point across, this seems incoherent to me and my mind is going 1000mph so yes.
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contritecactite · 6 months
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Considering that unicorns are canonical in Good Omens, how do you think they compare with horses in terms of comfort to ride? And do you think Crowley is sufficiently close to being a maiden of pure and noble heart for a unicorn to have consented to a ride?
Crowley has 100% ridden a unicorn just so he can pull that out as a fact about him at some point. He's sort of annoyed about all the "pure of heart" lore that developed; that's just bunk. Some bard overheard incorrectly while listening in on a conversation in which Aziraphale was trying to accuse Crowley of being good-hearted. Unicorns came into because Aziraphale was trying to think of an animal that has dangerous features but is secretly tame, but he did a typically rotten job at getting to his point. It got misinterpreted and blown out of proportion, and the rest is history.
As far as comfort, they're pretty comparable. The best point in their favor is that their is shorter and easier to keep clean naturally, so they aren't as prone to getting burs under the blankets and such, which makes them a little easier to ride by virtue of increased focus on the rider. Still, no animal that causes its rider to jolt in the seat is very comfortable for a rider who accidentally ended up with too many bones. Perhaps if they'd survived long enough to be domesticated into a gaited variety.
Bonus no one asked for: Crowley's dislike of riding, I like to think, is less about physical discomfort and more about his dislike for sharing agency with another creature when it comes to his own movements. This is another reason he's so horrified about Aziraphale's changes to the Bentley.
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arielavader · 4 months
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Alright.... I have 8.5 chapters out of 20/21 written for my next Good Onens Humans AU fic, and small parts of 2 other chapters that are less than half of each of those chapters.
The first two chapters have been edited to death.
So, do I start posting to motivate myself to write faster or should I have more done before I start posting?
It is all outlined. I'd be posting 1 or 2x per week, though chapters 5 and 6 are the ones only partially completed, otherwise I have up to chapter 10 written but not edited.
What to do, what to do...
A small bit for WIP Wednesday? Click the Read More if interested...
Crowley is the Crown Prince and Aziraphale is his army's General who has been wounded:
He returned to Aziraphale an hour later. “Are your orders ready?”
“Yes, my prince. They await only you to deliver them. You will need to leave soon if you plan to be back before nightfall.”
“Bentley is fast.” One thing his father had been able to teach him that he was good at: horse riding. Bentley had nearly broken the horsemaster, but Crowley had taken her and tamed her in his own way and they had become quite the pair. She was fast, and Crowley handled her well.
“Someone should go with you, to watch your back, Your Highness."
“Wish it was you, General, but I'll be fine and faster alone."
“Come back...."
“I will, I swear. Now, who am I to give these missives to?"
“Give them all to Sergeant Shadwell. He is a bit past his prime, but still eager and has command of some of the younger troops that tend to the logistics. He will make sure they end up in the right hands.”
“I can do that." He brought his fist to his heart. “For Averus."
Aziraphale smiled. "Stay alive.”
"You too. I need you to get through this. The army needs their General.”
"I will do my best.”
With a nod, Crowley left Aziraphale and headed to his rooms. There he donned a riding outfit of pure black to better blend in with his surroundings in the approaching darkness and grabbed his riding cloak. Then he headed for the stables.
"My lord?” The stable hand, a young woman who went by Pepper, asked when she saw him approaching.
"Glad it's you. I need Bentley and she likes you."
“Of course she does. I'm not afraid of her."
“And you shouldn't be. Can you get her fitted and saddled while I grab a few supplies?"
“On it, I'll bring her out in a few minutes."
Crowley went about gathering the supplies he'd need for a quick journey, he grabbed water skins for both himself and Bentley and filled them from the trough nearby. He already had his saddlebag packed with an extra cloak and gloves and Aziraphale’s letters. He added apples until the bag was full and tied it up.
A moment later, Pepper brought Bentley to him, saddled and ready. The dirty mare shook her head at him and Crowley grabbed a sugar cube for her. Bentley licked at it for a moment before she threw her head back.
“Think she's ready to get on with it, Crowley."
“Indeed. Guess I'll be on my way then."
Crowley mounted and Pepper removed Bentley’s lead rope once he was seated. "She hasn't been out for a bit, so she'll run well for you.”
When Crowley glanced down at the girl, she shrugged.
"I had other duties. One of the mares went into labor early, but she and her new foal are doing well. And poor Bentley, you know the boys won't go near her.” Pepper sighed and rolled her eyes.
Crowley smothered a laugh and shook his head before he waved off. He kept Bentley to a slow walk the rest of the way out of the stables, trotting her to the gate. And waving his way past the line guard. Since the war started the palace guard had been drastically reduced as they all came from the standing army. Currently there was a rotation of eight, three to watch the perimeter and one at the gate, switching off every twelve hours. There was no need for more. If a large group from Allium attacked the palace directly somehow they would surrender. Holding back men and women who were capable warriors to defend the palace was not a useful strategy.
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leon-swedfinqs · 5 months
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Newt's Side Quest
One afternoon, the adventurers of A.Z Fell & Co found that their resident artificer and spell diffuser Newt had run off on his own quest. Anathema wasn't sure how to react to the news.
Tags: Fluff, slightly crack, general silliness, Anathema and Newt being way too cute
A.Z Fell and Co was usually a very calm and tame adventurers guild. There were always people to hire and send out on quests – they even had their own mailbox where a patron could send their quest to them directly, and would answer the call if desired. With a selection of different skills and classes, there was an adventurer for everyone in the small house nestled on the main street corner in town.
Everyone in the village knew the adventurers by name, and next to the cute bard, Newt was one of the favorites. He was sweet, gentle, and mainly acted as a bookkeeper for the group rather than go out on missions. He was an artificer by trade, but that was rarely seen. He was not the spontaneous and adventurous type, funnily enough. 
Which is why it was a shock that, on that particular afternoon, Newt was nowhere to be found, with the only indication that he was not dead or kidnapped was a note on the kitchen table that read:
“Out on a quest! Be back soon ;D - Newton”
Everyone was gathered in the kitchen, looking down at the note in hushed silence. The quest basket that sat on a nearby desk, now that they all looked at it more carefully, was a bit disorganized, as if someone had rifled through it haphazardly that morning.
“What quest did he take? We could contact the person who requested aid and see if they may know where he is,” Aziraphale said, being the slightly reasonable one. 
“Maybe…he’s fine…?” Muriel muttered, no one hearing them.
“Eh, I’m sure the guy is fine,” Crowley said, actually hearing Muriel and agreeing with their statement. 
Anathema was still tense, but the sentiment seemed to ground her ever so slightly. The energy in the room shifted with her and Aziraphale finally thought it acceptable to advance the conversation without being seen as inconsiderate.
“Well then, let’s get started on our own quests, yes?” He proposed as he shuffled over to their collection of current active requests, all filed and labeled with matters of urgency, danger, and payment. As he began to gather them, Anathema made a small noise in the back of her throat that very clearly clued him in to the fact that she was not thrilled. Maybe he hadn’t waited long enough. Either way, it didn’t seem like she was in a position to help much today.
“Err, Anathema, why don’t you actually stay back today?” Aziraphale asked.
“Yeah! I’m sure Newt would want you here when he gets back to congratulate him!” Muriel added. That definitely helped soften the blow. 
Anathema blew a long stream of air through her teeth before nodding quietly and exiting the room. Once she was gone, Aziraphale turned his attention back to the quests and hummed. 
“Now then, let’s see what we need to get done…” he mumbled as he thumbed through them before suddenly freezing. After a moment he quickly repeated his motions, thumbing through each scroll again and inspecting their labeling. The same chilly expression captured his face as he gulped and turned back to the others.
“I know which quest young Newt took” he said quietly, “Our…our only current max danger level quest file is um…not here in our incoming basket”
“Oh…oh dear���” Maggie mumbled. “Do we tell her…? I mean…I’m sure Newt will be just fine, yeah? But should we let her know?”
There was an air of silence. Neither of them wanted to admit that they should say something to Anathema. Should they? Honestly it might just cause her more distress. 
“Um…maybe there’s some spell I can use? To check on him? Like a message, maybe?” Muriel spoke up. 
“That’s a splendid idea,” Aziraphale nodded, “Gives you some good practice too. Give it a go!”
Muriel nodded heartily before pressing their palms on either side of their head and clamping their eyes shut fiercely. These movements weren’t required for the spell, but Muriel always worked better with theatrics. 
After a few moments, their expression tensed 
“…hello? Mr. Pulsifer? Can you hear me?” Muriel asked carefully. There was a brief pause before within their head, they heard his voice respond. 
“Is that you? The Seraphim of Death? Here to collect your spoils?” Newt responded. His voice was much more steady and even than normal, lower and without a hunk of stutter. It almost gave Muriel the chills, not because it was inherently scary but because it was…uncharacteristic. 
Their eyes snapped open and they looked at the others worriedly. “Okay, something is definitely wrong,” they fretted before their hands nervously moved to their sweater, fiddling the fabric between their fingers, “He sounded so calm?? And something about a death angel???” 
The others blinked at them, the following silence only raising the tension once more. 
“We should get suited up then, go out to find him if we can, if he is…” Crowley started before trailing off and eventually shaking his head, “Just gather your supplies at once.”
Maggie and Nina nodded heartily and ran off. However, Aziraphale seemed to linger with Muriel, so Crowley curiously did the same. He hung back and “casually” stood behind his partner as if he was waiting for him.
“Muriel, this is important. You’ve already established a connection with him. Do you think you can try a bit of a harder spell on the same target? Detect thoughts? Maybe that’ll help us get a better idea of where he is and what exact trouble he’s in” Aziraphale said slowly. Muriel nodded and buckled down again, straining and focusing. They placed their hands over their ears and ducked their head, as if trying to center their focus and direct their thoughts to the young half-orc. However, all that returned from their spell was even more unnerving. 
Muriel parroted his words as they heard them. 
“Anathema…I’m so sorry…I hate to make you upset…I shouldn’t have done this…I’m sorry Anathema…” they mumbled before looking back up at their bosses who both shared a shocked expression. Quiet gasps were heard at the top of the stairs – it seems that the two ladies were also eavesdropping in to the spell casting. Everyone in the guild cared about Newt a lot, yes, but they were also all intense gossips.With no time to waste, the rest sprang into action and ran off, quickly gathering their things, running up the stairs and into their rooms. It wasn’t long for Anathema to notice the commotion with all of the noise and movement, which instantly raised her panic again. 
“What? Which mission did he take?” She hurriedly asked as she intercepted the three in the main hallway. She seemed to keep fidgeting with her ring.
“Oh, nothing to worry about dear girl!” Aziraphale quickly said, lying through his teeth as he grabbed his bag of holding from one of the hall closets. “Took one of the easy jobs, it seems. Should be back in a day or two! We just, uh-“
“Deadline. Big pay,” Crowley quickly said, keeping his tone even. “Some of us are heading down now to claim it. It was in the bottom of the basket, Angel’s mistake.”
“Excuse me!-“
“Ah-uh-um-“ Muriel sputtered as they struggled to make any sort of eye contact with Anathema before looking incredibly panicked. 
Anathema tensed. Without even an inkling of an answer, her brain did something she didn’t often do, but was made all the worse by her lack of practice controlling it—she spiraled, thinking of all the worst case scenarios. Without notice her breathing hastened.
“T-That’s it! I don’t care what you all are doing, I’m going after him!” She screamed in a manner that no one even thought possible of the young witch. She hiked up her dress haphazardly and went running, down the stairs and seemingly without any resource or plan. 
“Anathema! Stop!” Crowley called as he ran after her.
“Yes! Please dear girl, listen to reason!” Aziraphale added as he followed. Upon hearing the commotion, Maggie and Nina emerged from their room as well, nearly decked out in gear but more concerned about stopping the frantic witch then and there. Maggie was the first to hasten down and without warning scooped Anathema up to try and hold her back. The witch failed and kicked, making it quite hard for Maggie to hang on. It was even harder when Anathema suddenly wiggled a hand free and cast the spell grease, sending everyone nearby slipping and spiraling in the sudden 10 foot circle of slick below them. Maggie toppled backwards with the suddenly slippery terrain. Both Nina and Aziraphale rushed forward next to try and snatch Anathema, though the two instead ended up colliding into a knot of limbs and fatty ick. Crowley was the final line of defense, so Anathema dealt with him quickly, snapping her fingers with a quick cast of gust to send him careening backwards. Once the way was clear she bolted forward, only to be caught and dragged to the floor. As she turned around, she found the culprit, a pesky snake tail wrapped around her ankle and the black and red snake smugly attached to it. 
Muriel continued to watch the chaos unfold from the stairs, before suddenly noticing a small bit of movement through the front door window. They blinked, rubbed their eyes, and looked again. Not a hallucination. Carefully, without disturbing the awkward brawl of their teammates, Muriel stepped around the area of grease and made their way to the door before carefully pulling it open. 
“Oh! Hi Mr. Pulsifer!”
“Ah, hello Muriel,” the young half-orc beamed. “It’s been quite the day for me. Do you think you can take this to the back room for storage?” he said with a light laugh as he handed the bard a large, unidentifiable bundle. “And is Mr. Fell around? I’ve got some gold to log for the house finances.”
Muriel blinked in surprise as they looked down at the bundle and back up at their housemate. He looked a little ragged, his hair messier than usual and a small crack on the glasses haphazardly balancing on his nose. The edge of his tunic was slightly singed, and his boots were covered in mud and incredibly scuffed. But other than that, he looked to be completely fine.
“Oh-ah-yes, of course, I can bring this inside-do you want some tea? I think I should get some tea brewing, I feel like all of us could use a good sit down and-“
The human was cut off by a yell and the distinct sounds of magic being cast and a knife lodging itself in one of the walls. 
“You SNAKE! Let go of me!” a shrill voice spat. 
Furrowing his brows in confusion, Newt pushed his way through the doorway and peeked inside. 
He certainly wasn’t expecting what he found, especially not the love of his life harshly yanking on the serpentine body of their boss currently wrapped around her ankle while the rest of their companions continuously slipped, covered in a sheen of oil. He continued to watch on in a mix of surprise and confusion before chucking lightly to himself. He’d never seen Anathema so frazzled, and admittedly it was a bit reassuring to know she also worried and freaked out like the rest of us. She was imperfect, and he loved her even more for it. 
“I leave for one day and everyone starts a grease wrestling league without me? Maybe I should go more often,” he chuckled. Everyone went silent, gazes snapping up to see him standing slightly in front of Muriel who still seemed a bit frazzled. They all stared on in shock just as Aziraphale slipped again in his attempt to get up and approach the young man. As he did, Crowley looked over in worry and loosened his grip, allowing Anathema to instantly wiggle free and rush forward to him, slipping along the way but not minding one bit. 
“Newt! Oh stars, you’re alright! You’re not dead! You’re here and you’re okay and-“ just as she made it to him, arms outstretched, she gathered enough sense to stop short so as to not get him covered in the result of her grease spell as well. 
Newt didn’t seem to share her sentiment and rushed forward to meet her, scooping her up (the best he could under the circumstances) and cradling her as if she were the most precious thing in the world. 
“Of course I’m okay,” he smiled as he kissed her cheek before pulling away slightly to look at her, “Are…you okay?”
Anathema sniffed as she leaned her head against his chest, her bangs tickling his nose. She looked up at him, tears brimming her eyes. 
“I had no idea where you were! You…you daft idiot…!” she huffed. “You didn’t tell anyone where you went, and you know I can’t check!”
“Ah, but what’s the fun in a surprise if I tell everyone,” Newt laughed as he gently pushed her hair behind her ear.
Her breath shuddered before she leaned into his touch, taking in every part of him that she could to ground herself from her previous frantic high. 
“I suppose I didn’t know you could be so spontaneous,” she sniffled before letting out an unbecoming wet chuckle. Newt pressed a kiss to the top of her head. 
“Then it’s extra spontaneous, right?” He smiled before he looked away slightly sheepishly, “But well…I’d had a feeling lately, I wanted to do a mission on my own. Not because I don’t love working with you all, lord knows our filing system would be an indecipherable mess if we left Mr. Fell to organize it, but I was worried I wasn’t able to pull my weight. I’m not a magician like you or a fighter like Maggie. I wanted to hone my skills, make sure I was contributing to us, to you,” he hummed.
“Oh…Newt, you don’t have to prove yourself to us,” Anathema frowned. 
“And I wasn’t trying to,” he smiled softly, “I just wanted to prove it to me. And I did,” his smile was small, but it beamed with a brilliant light of confidence. 
“To be frank, I just reached into the quest basket and did the first one I grabbed, I just wanted to try my hand at something,” he sheepishly laughed. “Thankfully, it wasn’t incredibly terrible to accomplish on my own. Sometimes I would think, ‘oh if only Anathema would cast this spell’, or, ‘Nina’s aim would be really helpful right now’, but I found my ways around it.”
“Oh, it seems someone is getting pretty confident now then, huh?” she smirked. The witch quite like this glow Newt seemed to emit. “Maybe you should go out more often then.”
He smiled as he wrapped a hand around her waist. Anathema blushed. He really had felt confident, and it was…honestly a bit attractive, she had to admit.
“Maybe I should,” he started before leaning close to her ear, “Or maybe,” he said quietly, “We could go out on quests together sometimes, just us, you know”
Anathema smiled, “Newton Pulsifer, are you asking me on a date to slay dragons?” She giggled.
“Or dethrone tyrannical kings, maybe rescue small seaside villages from pirates? Anything romantic like that,” he smiled. Anathema laughed again before hugging him back again. 
“It’s a date then,” she smiled into his shirt. 
“Awwww,” Aziraphale and Maggie both cooed quietly, still unable to stand up but watching on intently as if they were invested in a rom-com. 
“She has no right to criticize us after this,” Crowley muttered.
“I’ll do it then,” Nina added. She was met with an annoyed glare in response, which made her huff out a laugh.
Just as the two pulled away, Muriel smiled, though a touch of sadness met their expression.
“I’m so glad you’re okay, Mr. Pulsifer. I guess…I guess when I tried to connect to you earlier, I must have done it incorrectly," they sighed, "maybe for the best though, the wrong message I intercepted was something about a death angel and you apologizing to Anathema. Seems like you were just fine though!" 
Newt suddenly blushed, his posture shifting to instantly a bit more of his usual sheepishness.
"You…probably heard correctly actually," he mumbled. Newt paused for a moment as he retrieved the battered quest scroll from his pocket and held it out. “See, the task was to slay a Girenox. They’re monsters known for their incredible bravery. It’s said that eating their liver imbues the consumer with incredible intrepidity. A wrestler contracted us to hunt down the monster and give them the liver for an upcoming match. Their wrestling name is the Seraphim of Death. Or, that’s one of them I think. They had like ten different names. Their real name is Dale though,” Newt explained, “As for the apologizing…well…” he turned to look at Anathema, “Love…I…I so foolishly wore those new boots you got me for my birthday and I got them scuffed. I was so foolish, I shouldn’t have worn them on a quest like this, I’m so so sorry,” he frowned. 
Nina raised an eyebrow. Ah yes, an adventurer blubbering about a scuffed boot. That sounded more on brand for their little group. In fact, as they looked down at the couple and noting Newt’s behavior, the remaining members seemed to share a general suspicion that perhaps the artificer had gotten a nibble of that liver which resulted in his sudden confidence. 
"Newt, it's okay! Boots get scuffed. I'm just happy you're safe," Anathema smiled. Newt smiled back and gave her another kiss. This time he came away exceptionally greasy. 
"Right then,” Aziraphale started as he clapped, “Anathema, we apologize for trying to restrain you. It was uncalled for. But please, don't cast grease inside the house again. As punishment you'll have to wash yourself last. But at least you have more time to reunite with Newt, yes? Don't track anymore grease in the house. Same goes for the rest of you, baths at once." 
"Asking to take a bath, hmm Angel? Why don't we-" Crowley was very quickly interrupted by Nina.
"Shut up,” Nina growled as she shoved her hand in Crowley’s face, causing him to hiss and whine at her. “I can't handle both of you at once."
Aziraphale laughed as he took Crowley’s hand and dragged him down the hall to their room, as the other couple rolled their eyes and went into theirs. Just as Muriel walked towards the stairs to file away what Newt had given them, they overheard the last of the voices.
"So…did you also eat some of that bravery liver?" Anathema asked.
"Me? Eating liver? Gross! Never ever,” Newt groaned.
“Hm. Didn’t think so,” Anathema hummed as she smiled and gently pecked his cheek. “I don’t think you ever needed it anyway.”
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darth-shado · 1 year
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Azrael's Fic Master List
Here's my (rather long) list of fanfics I have published on ao3 and will be updated in the future.
List is divided into three categories: on-going works, completed works and one-shots.
How to read the list: Title (and link) — Rating — Word count — Brief description.
On-going works
Home: A place in a Galaxy — T — 3,3k — (post tbobf, Dinluke centric)
3 times Tim tried to get Jon and Martin together, and 1 time he realised he didn't have to — T — 2,8k — Co-written with: @.im-gonna-squeet — (post MAG: Fluff, Tim and Sasha being matchmakers)
The stars will be ours (once again) — T (GDoV) — 8k — (post season 4, Virravos and Magefam centric)
Completed works
Edward's Bar and Grill — T — 3,5k — (Ed instead of becoming Kraker decided to deal with Stede leaving him by opening a restaurant)
3 times Aziraphale wanted to kiss Crowley and 1 time he did — G — 1,9k — (Aziraphale throughout 6000 years wanted to kiss someone (Crowley) three times until one day he finally did, Aroace spec Ineffable husbands)
One-shots
Star Wars
Ret'urcye mhi ner kar'taylir darasuum — G (MCD) — 5,7k — (post tbb s2e3, Cody and Codywan centric, based on unused Kenobi script)
Differences in similarities — G — 705 — (Aroace Hunter, discussion about being aroace)
Romantic feelings, are not for everyone. — G (Referenced aphobia) — 584 — (Aroace Din Djarin, implied Din/Cobb and Din/Omera)
Planning under pressure isn't easy — G (Description of sensory overload) — 485 — (post tbb s1e8, Hunter centric)
Trick or treat — G — 477 — (Din & Grogu going shopping for Halloween costumes for Grogu, Modern au)
Forgotten Lullaby — G — 426 — (post Mandalorian chapter 13, additional fluff scene)
Freezing break — G — 295 — (Rey/Rose, Prompt: Rose drags Rey into the freezing cold to make a snowman.)
Omega's story — G — 241 — (Short scene addressing Omega being trans)
Taming hair before the meeting — G — 187 — (Leia/Han, Prompt: Han helping Leia brush her hair after a shower.)
The Magnus Archives
Loss of a family — M (GDoV) — 1,3k — (Fnaf plot written as a statement)
AITA for forcing people to tell me their trauma? — G — 245 — (AITA but it's season 4 of TMA)
Genshin Impact
Lovely crime — G — 907 — (Heizou/Kazuha, detective x criminal)
Heikazu week 2022 — G — 1k
Good Omens
Ineffable morning — G — 531 — (Ineffable husbands fluff)
Would you like to move in with me? — G — 251 — (Aziraphale asks Crowley if he was to live with him)
The Dragon Prince
Growing flowers — G — 397 — (Claudia's and Terry's first meeting)
Escape from the mirror — T (self-harm but for a spell) — 339 — (Viren frees Aaravos, post season 2)
MCYT (not rpf)
Welcome back gift — G — 1k — (Mumbo returns to Hermitcraft, Waffle Duo reunion)
(Not so good) Memories — G (GDoV) — 810 — (Double life desert duo angst)
Sherlock (BBC)
I love you for who you are. — T — 332 — (Johnlock centric, Asexual Sherlock, Coming out)
Stargazing with consulting detective — G — 328 — (Johnlock, Prompt: John and Sherlock spending the night on the perfect hill for stargazing.)
Honkai: Star Rail
How to deal with nightmares — T — 1,3k — (Dan Heng/March 7th/Trailblazer, Pre-relationship, Literally sleeping together)
Sons of The Forest
Simple Gestures — G — 632 — (Kelvin & Tim & Virginia (can be platonic or romantic), Kelvin and Virginia bonding)
Our Flag Means Death
Nightmare worst than a Kraken — G — 184 — (GentleBeard, fix-it au, episode 10 is just a dream)
Marvel
Soft Spot(s) — G — 448 — (Fluff and Crack, Lego99)
Baldur's Gate 3
When Astarion saw himself for the first time since becoming a vampire — G — 815 — (Astarion & or x Artist!Reader)
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charmed-and-alarmed · 5 years
Text
We all know that Aziraphale hates customers. But I submit that he LOVES grad students.
- if asked (by Crowley, solely to fluster his Angel) he will say that it's completely reasonable to love people who want to study and discuss books? And that feeling he gets when they come and ask him for help isn't Pride no. It just so happens that having lived for millennia means he's the best primary source on the planet. It would be selfish to not share his knowledge really. Why shouldnt he feel good about helping young people learn? So it's really only lowercase 'pride' at most...
- ...I mean, it's just harmless satisfaction that he is spreading knowledge like God intended. Err, probably intended. This knowledge isnt that Forbidden Knowledge so it's fine, right? They're way past that at this point. Surely there is no objection to knowing about books?
- if you were to ask Crowley, he will point out that grad students can't afford to actually buy any books. But no one has ever asked him
- back when the shop first opened, poor Aziraphale was struggling with the realization that people might get suspicious if never lets anyone buy any of his books. And in walks in some poor, exhausted student from Kings or London University who has spent the last 10hrs looking in every bookstore and library around for an original copy of 'The Tamer Tamed'. So they stumble in, turn to Aziraphale and ask if he has any 17th century editions of Fletcher's work. They just need to look at it bc every copy they've found has been edited.
- does Aziraphale have a 17th century editions of Flecher's 'The Woman's Prize, or The Tamer Tamed'? What an absurd question! He has the first edition, printed in 1647. Two copies in fact, one with notes in the margins written by an early actor that Aziraphale particularly liked. It was, after all, one of Crowley's favorite plays from that period.
- (Crowley claims that he has nothing to do with the plays popularity when compared to the work it was in response to, 'The Taming of the Shrew'. Yes, he preferred the feminist-leaning work by Fletcher, but it's not his fault the audience agreed with him) [1]
- the look on this students face when Aziraphale sits them down at his desk and brings over this folio - full of relief and gratitude - have the angel feeling a bit chuffed. So much so that, as he's closing the shop for the day, he tells them to come back tomorrow if they need another look. And thus one of the great student pilgrimages of London is born
- at the beginning of each term, new students make their way to this strange, magical bookstore run by a nice, possibly-immortal man. Group visits are discouraged, as they seem to make the owner nervous.
- fellow students (and sometimes professors) warn newcomers that the owner doesn't actually want people to buy any books. But if go and tell him that you just want to look at them for a class, he will let you come and look around.
- actually, browsing isn't recommended: depending on his mood, Mr. Fell (the owner) may encourage you to look around or he may decide to suddenly close early, or find some way to get you out the door. It's always safest to ask Mr. Fell for something specific, the more obscure the better: he likes it when he has the exact thing you're looking for
- there are snakes in the shelves - well, one snake, probably. Just like Mr. Fell, this snake has been hiding in the shelves since the store opened and never ages. It loves to jump out and scare customer, but is generally considered harmless unless you damage or mistreat the books. There are numerous accounts of people being bitten for dog-earing pages, putting cups on books, and general rudeness.
note: do not refer to the snake as Mr. Fell's pet. He tends to get rather indignant if you do (Mr. Fell, not the snake. If anything, you would think the snake finds Mr. Fell's reaction amusing) Think of it as his slightly terrifying roommate who occasionally hides in the shelves or curls up by/on Mr. Fell to nap
- A. Z Fell & Co had the world's least comprehensible business hours. He could be closed for days or weeks at a time, then open 24hrs for a month without explanation. Often, he would open at 4 or 5AM then close around lunch, then open again after he finished lunch (anywhere between 1 and 4PM). There was one 11 year span when the shop was almost always closed - university's saw a drop in grades in several departments until it finally opened again. If he recognizes you, sometimes you will arrive to find the store closed, only for him to suddenly open the door and let you in because he was "just about to open up".
- Mr. Fell can easily be bribed when someone needs to stay after closing or come in early the next day. Down the block and across the street is a bakery: it has had many names over the years, but it has been supplying students with bribes in the form of cream puffs, eclairs, Turkish delights, and other sweet treats since the bookstore opened. Students scrambling before a deadline got 10 cents off their purchase.
- while he never seems to know what day it is, or what year it is (see: immortal), he always remembers when it's time for exams because suddenly the shop is open at all hours, and Mr. Fell "just so happens" to have trays of sandwiches and fruit leftover, and wouldn't they help him finish it? It'll spoil, after all. Outside food and drinks are never allowed but suddenly there are little plates and napkins on a table by the door, and stacks of strange coasters from all over the world. Coffee is not allowed but tea is. Of course, everyone knows that Mr. Fell makes the BEST hot cocoa and if you put a coaster next to you, he will bring you a mug of cocoa, always at the perfect temperature.
- as revisions comes to a close, you will find almost a dozen students at Fell & Co. They will be slumped at a desk or curled up on the floor by the windows, cups of cooling cocoa and plates of healthy snacks left in places where they couldn't spill onto the books. Colorful blankets come out of a back room as Mr. Fell tidies up, smiling fondly as he drapes them over the slumbering students
- there are stories of people whose old, cruddy laptops seem to work better in the bookshop. People listening to music (quietly, of course) may notice that the songs that come up on shuffle are always exactly what they wanted to hear. Notes you could have sworn you left at home or lost show up at the bottom of your bookbag. Documents you should have lost when your computer crashed can be recovered. One Martin Pryce insists that in 2014, he brought his broken bike to the store and when he came out again, it was fixed. He actually went up to Mr. Fell as he closed shop and asked him about it but Mr. Fell insisted he had nothing to do with it. Martin says Mr. Fell sounded like he was telling the truth, but looked very pleased and muttered something about it being a "minor miracle", which is a bit much for a bike.
- if there are a thousand stories about Mr. Fell and his bookshop, there are just as many about the man in the fancy black car who comes around sometimes. Many have speculated on the nature of the men's relationship, ranging from torrid love affairs to blackmail to Dickensian-level family drama. But the only thing you really need to know is that when you see that fancy black car parked by the shop, you best just to home. The store is most definitely closed.
1. One account survives of the audiences reactions to the two plays. 'Shrew' was performed first and was "liked". 'Tamed Tamed' was performed after and it was "very well liked". Whether or not this account is from Crawley is impossible to say.
Now with a a furiously doting Crowley sequel
Aaaand a fanfic 
17K notes · View notes
aziraphales-library · 3 years
Note
Hello! I was looking fir some wild spirit/animal Crowley and human Aziraphale that's slowly taming and befriending the other
Hi! Here are some human Aziraphale and non-human Crowley fics for you...
Saltwater on Skin by CandyQueenAO3 (E)
Ezra fell, an award-winning novelist, has just sold the one millionth copy of his newest book. While celebrating with friends and family on a rented yacht, Ezra falls overboard and is washed ashore on an uncharted island. Ever the optimist, he keeps his spirits up while he awaits rescue. That is, until he gets the distinct feeling that he isn't ALONE on this island; that there's SOMETHING else out there.
Watching him.
Another New World by D20Owlbear (T)
Aziraphale is an explorer who searches the world for new civilizations and untouched ruins, and he knows in his heart that if anyone can find the fabled Garden of Eden, it'll be him. After a disastrous shipwreck a few years back, he's desperate to prove himself once more as an adventurer of renown.
But there are things that live in the Garden and in the wilds of the desert around it. Perhaps. Aziraphale isn't sure he believes in them, but he thinks he's ready to find them nonetheless.
There were creatures, some said, that lived in these deserts, thrived in them even. Aziraphale didn't normally pay much heed to tall tales, but the mirages of this place had put him on edge for days. He was hearing things just out of sight, seeing things that couldn't possibly exist in the distance, and now he saw what he had been searching for. Eden.
The famed Garden of God, the paradise lost, the valley of plenty. With a sob and a loud shout of relief, the intrepid explorer picked up his pace, spirits renewed. It was some days' walk yet, and he knew he only saw it with the help of his enchanted bifocals, but it was there. Eden was in the distance.
I Won't Say That I'll Love You Forever by ZehWulf (E)
Being a proper boggart to someone like Aziraphale was, he quickly discovered, a bit maddening.
OR
Crowley's ready to do some good bad work when Aziraphale moves into the cottage, but the ridiculous human doesn't react appropriately to any of Crowley's pigtail pulling so obviously Crowley has to escalate things.
Into The Woods by ranguvar82 (E)
Aziraphale is a telepath. He hates it, hates the constant thoughts that batter him daily. He knows if he stays in Soho, he'll go mad. He finds a house on the edge of a forest that promises peace. The nearest neighbor is across a lake, and the nearest village is a day's ride away. But Aziraphale can't shake the feeling of being watched, and when a mysterious basket of apples appears, he is determined to find out where they came from. What follows is a journey into magic and quite possibly, love.
Crowley has been the Guardian of his Forest for countless years. He has seen humans come and go, and none of them cared for his Forest, so he chased them all off. But this human, with his rose petal voice and plump pear body, this one is different, and Crowley finds himself feeling something he's never felt before...
(I Fell In Love With) The Monster Under My Bed by ranguvar82 (M)
Aziraphale has finally worked up the courage to leave his abusive partner Gabriel. He goes to his grandmother Agnes' home, far in the north of Scotland, hoping to heal. But the house has a mysterious occupant, and when Aziraphale meets him, he's drawn into a world unlike any he's ever known.
Crowley has been feeling incredibly lonely ever since Agnes died. The old woman was his only friend in the mortal realm, and the snake monster misses her terribly. So when a stranger moves in, he's fully prepared to use all his skills at scaring to chase him off.
Neither are expecting to turn out to be exactly what the other needs.
through the silent wood by summerofspock (M)
When Aziraphale Eastgate first moves to Tadfield, he struggles to understand the strange culture of the village. They're not friendly or kind or anything he expected from a village in the north. So when he rescues a snake from a snow storm, he's glad for a little company even if it comes in the form of an animal.
Unfortunately, in Tadfield, animals are often not what they seem.
- Mod D
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lady-divine-writes · 3 years
Text
Good Omens Secret Santa 2020 - “Lights Will Guide You Home” (Rated PG13)
Summary: While watching the kids for the night, Crowley takes them all on an adventure, which includes a trip to the states to look at the Christmas lights. He drives them around to see bigger and gaudier displays, but Aziraphale is a little confused when he finally gets to see Crowley's favorite. (1556 words)
Notes: Written for Micha (@one-with-the-floor) as part of the Good Omens Secret Santa 2020 gift exchange.
Read on AO3.
"How about this one, kids? This might be the brightest one yet! ... Kids? ... Kids?" Crowley looks in his rearview mirror and scowls. "Oi! When did the little buggers fall asleep?" 
Aziraphale turns away from his window and the house beyond covered in every twinkle light available on the Eastern Seaboard (he suspects) and gives Crowley a confused look. Then, remembering that they aren't alone in Crowley's Bentley, he peeks over at the seat behind them, where five children snore softly, heads leaning on shoulders, fast asleep. "About five houses ago, I believe? Give or take? That's the last time I heard any ooo'ing or ahh'ing."
"Which house was that?"
"The one with the nativity scene made up of inflatable dragons breathing fire and wearing Santa caps."
Crowley's brow draws together as he tries to recall. "Oh, yeah. Right." He looks over his shoulder so he can see the pile of children properly: Warlock dressed in his stiff new Christmas suit, Adam a bit less formal in khakis and a pale blue polo, the rest of The Them a hodgepodge of wrinkled trousers, thick-soled shoes, and shirts of various fit alongside Pepper's red velvet gown, which her parents forced her to wear (a fact she stated numerous times throughout the evening) and which she accessorized with a faux leather jacket and a bulky pair of Doc Martens. "What's the deal with them knocking out so early? They're kids! They're supposed to be boundless founts of energy, aren't they?"
"Early? It's close to one in the morning!"
"Yes, but if you take into consideration the clan of gingerbread people they decimated, then washed down with a gallon of cocoa, they should be bouncing off the ceiling! We've been out for, what? An hour? Two?"
"Try four," Aziraphale says, checking his watch to be sure. "Did you have to miracle us all the way to the states?"
"Yes," Crowley says definitively. "They do Christmas a little differently out here. Bigger. More grandiose."
"That's an understatement," Aziraphale mutters as they pass a house so festooned with lights and animatronic creatures, he can't see the structure they're affixed to. "As is, I'm not sure how exactly you're getting away with miracling the lot of us abroad."
"When Hell finds out I used my magic to take five children across borders without passports, they'll be ecstatic!"
"But will Warlock's parents? Or Adam's?"
"Who's going to tell them?" Crowley shoots his angel a significant look, but Aziraphale matches it, arms crossed over his chest, glaring sternly, and Crowley backs down. "Look, their parents ditched them with us so that they could go off drinking and regaling and having a good time."
"Ditched them?" Aziraphale chuckles at Crowley's skewed point of view. "We offered!"
"And we promised these kids a good time!"
"You definitely delivered," Aziraphale says, smiling at his memories of their night: the snowball fight that ended with them crashing an outdoor service; the horde of snow zombies they built in the yards of a quiet and unsuspecting neighborhood; the hills they zipped down using trashcan lids as sleighs. Aziraphale was horrified by most of these to begin with, but that didn't last. Not when he saw how thoroughly the children enjoyed themselves. 
Crowley, too. 
But driving around, looking at lights? That was an unexpectedly tame suggestion. And Crowley was rather insistent. "But why did you want us to see Christmas lights?"
"Because it's important."
"How?"
"This is the only time of year you get to see this," Crowley explains, gesturing vaguely.
"And what's that? Enough wattage to coax down passing aircraft? Or are you perhaps referring to the eight-foot Santa mooning passersby?"
"No," Crowley replies. But that Santa was hilarious! The children spotted him from miles away and made Crowley drive over. They spent a good fifteen minutes pointing and laughing, making the kinds of off-colored jokes that make parents shush! But more hilarious was his angel's scandalized reaction - his dramatic tut, followed by an even more dramatic, "God Lord." "Humanity." Crowley sighs. "I know I talk a lot about Christmas becoming vulgar and over-commercialized. And come the day after, it'll be back to the business of not giving a shite about their fellow man, trampling each other in the shops to get the most ridiculous garbage at seventy-five percent off ..."
"Something you earned a commendation for, if I recall," Aziraphale points out.
"... but when humans light their houses like this, invite their neighbors to gather 'round, they're saying 'All are welcome! Stop on by! Let's celebrate together!'"
"To me, it's more like they're saying, 'Look at me! Look at all of this useless bother I own! Who cares that I'm diverting migratory birds from their destinations? Astronauts can see my house from space!'"
"Agree to disagree then," Crowley grumbles, then goes silent, and Aziraphale knows he's teased one step too far.
"The children falling asleep will make it easier to transport them," Aziraphale says, easing into a new subject until he can think of a way to apologize. "We can miracle them into their beds when we get back to the Dowling's. Then we can do a little regaling of our own."
Crowley grins. He can't stay stung by his angel forever. He's just too sentimental tonight to have a sense of humor. "Sounds about perfect. Been a while since I've done any regaling."
"Tonight's as good a time as any to start."
Crowley turns down a street with fewer lights and no neighbors milling about, preparing to snap them back to London. "Which house was your favorite?"
"Oh, none of these," Aziraphale says snobbishly. "I'm not the biggest fan of modern-day extravagance. I would have to say my favorite out of all the displays was that abbey down by the river: fairy lights reflecting off the water; tasteful nativity out front; evergreen trimmed with simple decorations - wooden star atop, red velvet bows, paper angels ..."
"Leave it to you to choose the one holy place we found, and only because we took a wrong turn."
Aziraphale wiggles happily in his seat. "You know what they say - there are no accidents."
"Yup. And four rights make a left."
Aziraphale pulls a face. "I ... don't think that's correct ..."
"Don't matter." Crowley turns in his seat, looks at his angel. "Do you wanna see my favorite?"
Aziraphale smiles, all thoughts of turns shelved for the moment. "Of course." "Alright. It's back in our neck of the woods, so hold on tight."
Aziraphale reaches to the side, takes Crowley's free hand in his, gives it a squeeze. "Ready."
Crowley snaps his fingers. 
For a single second, the world stops. 
A bright light surrounds the Bentley, engulfs it in its brilliance. In the amount of time it takes for Crowley's fingers to slide across one another, they're home. 
Aziraphale blinks, looks about as his eyes adjust to the lower light. He expected to see a house pulsating with a glow equal to a thousand suns outside his window, maybe with Virgin Mary riding a motorbike behind the abominable snowman while the angel Gabriel wrestles an alligator. But the shapes around him are familiar. His brow wrinkles as he tries to understand what he's seeing. They're not just back in London, they're in Soho.
Right outside his shop. 
"Which one is it?" Aziraphale looks up and down the block at darkened storefronts, most of them as frugally adorned as his own - a rope of garland, a wreath, a silver bell or two, but nothing special. Nothing noteworthy. Nothing even close to the houses they spent the night ogling. 
"This one right here." Crowley points past Aziraphale toward a set of wooden double doors.
Aziraphale frowns. "But ... that's my bookshop."
"A-ha."
"I didn't do much in the way of decorating."
"I know."
"And I don't like when people stop in, so it's not as if I'm encouraging my neighbors to gather."
"Know that, too."
"So, why is it your favorite?"
"Because ..." Crowley scoots across the seat, puts an arm around Aziraphale's shoulders "... it's home."
"You consider a dusty old bookshop home? When you own that mansion of a flat in Mayfair?"
"You consider the bookshop your home, don't you?"
"Yes, but that's because my books are there, my liquor cabinet, my snuff boxes - everything I'm fond of. Everything I adore."
"What a coincidence. Because everything I'm fond of ... everything I adore ... is at your shop."
"And what would that be?" Aziraphale asks sarcastically. "My bottle of Hennessy Paradis Imperial?"
"No. You, you pair of walnuts," a grumpy Warlock responds in Crowley's stead.  
Crowley glares at his young charge over his shoulder. "Rude."
"Look, could you guys take us home first and then make out?" Adam asks.
"Yeah," Pepper agrees. "My entire body is numb except for my right eyelid."
"Plus, listening to adults flirt kind of grosses me out," Brian adds, the rest mumbling in agreement.
"Alright, alright," Crowley growls, sliding back into his seat and putting the car into drive. "We'll drive you ankle-biters home, and then ..."
"We regale! Which I'm confident will include plenty of 'making out'? Right, my dear?"
"Absolutely," Crowley says with a smirk. Aziraphale snorts when their cluster of pre-teens groan.
"I think we're making them uncomfortable, angel." 
"Serves them right," Aziraphale says, straightening in his seat. "I could have happily gone on for another six thousand years without seeing Santa Claus's rear end. Vengeance is mine."
57 notes · View notes
new-endings · 4 years
Note
Ayy I want to hear about Beta!Aziraphale :D
so glad you do!~
fic idea #1112
It started with the premise of beta Aziraphale thinking that alpha Crowley’s been trying to court some poor omega sod for the past few centuries. Crowley had been displaying rather alpha-like characteristics around him since Rome, what with the innocuous gifts, the food, the protection he's provided—
All served with the same dour expression that leads Aziraphale to believe that the alpha really doesn’t intend on it, doesn’t really seem to realize what he’s doing, nor does he really want to do it. Aziraphale comes to the conclusion that something or someone must be some causing Crowley’s instincts to pop off like this.
Aziraphale comes to the conclusion that his …err, acquaintance, must have met a "nice" omega demon and that the beta is just dealing with a twitter pated alpha in the aftermath.
((He knows it's not him, knows better than to even think for a second all those little gestures meant something more. Why—to think anything more would be utterly absurd—impossible! He’s—an angel, a beta—))
But it’s not until centuries later that Aziraphale knows there's another involved after Crowley asks him for the holy water
 Crowley found someone he was willing to risk not only Aziraphale's life for, but his own.
 And given the latter, Aziraphale naturally said no.
 I don't need you.
 Yes...that's right.
 Betas are intermediaries— useful, but not essential.
—————————————————
 On the other hand, Crowley's been tryna court the oblivious git for millennia now but naturally, none of the regular "alpha" tactics work. Puffed up pride and the sharpness of his scent indicating an interested alpha only makes Aziraphale uncomfortable. The instinct to force the angel to submit, to bare his neck and bend to his whim, only inflicted fear.
 And when frightened, Aziraphale did not whimper and did not bow. He would instead lash out with his own silver tongue, his own venomous words, and turn away.
 He was not an omega— he was not an omega an alpha was meant to tame.
 He was a beta without a hint of instinct to let him know that Crowley only wanted him safe— only wanted him loved.
 But Crowley learned. He adapted. Gifting the beta soft silks and cloths soaked in his scent was often met with the cloth thoroughly cleaned within the hour "to get rid of the stench of evil; angels can smell it, you know," creating a nest with him was out of the question given their respective…offices, but foods—yes, foods were among his beta’s favorite—
 an offering of oysters...
 was that where it started?
 —and Crowley was more than happy to show the beta he can provide, he can protect—
 ((Crowley has even gone as far as developed a sense for when his beta would be in a spot of trouble. There were no distressed omegan hormones, no telltale shifts in Aziraphale’s mild scent when something was amiss, of course not.
No, it was other things—things that were so heartbreakingly Aziraphale in every way—from his dithering, from the curl of his lip, just barely a sneer when Crowley was misbehaving, or the change of pitch in his voice when he was scheduled to meet with his superiors.
And last but not least…
…a tugging, at the back of Crowley’s head. Insistent when Aziraphale was in the area. And it downright dragged him to the center of the mess when Aziraphale landed himself out of the pan and into the fire (so to speak)
Aziraphale always forced Crowley to learn things the hard way—
 and that was one of the things he loved about his bastard beta.))
 —but he wanted—needed—that reciprocated too.
 Fraternising.
 The word sliced his chest wide open.
 Maybe he couldn't get through to him. Perhaps it was all in vain. A transaction for the beta, just as he'd proposed it all those centuries ago.
 I don't need you.
 It was true. Crowley got on just fine without him.
 ((It didn't curb the want. The longing.))
 The feeling is mutual!
 obviously...
-----------------------
And then— 1941. The scene at the church happens.
 Where Crowley's instinct that Aziraphale was in trouble still functioned quite impeccably despite a century apart and an argument that fractured what they had.
 And Crowley limps away, feet burnt on consecrated ground, knowing—without a doubt—that he would walk across the sun if it meant Aziraphale is safe.
And Aziraphale stands there in the rubble of faith, understanding and facing, with certain and absolute sincerity that he was in love with this demon,
 Knowing—without a doubt—that Crowley loves another.
---------------------
 20 years later, Aziraphale learns of a heist and a cold fear grips him. he can't lose Crowley—absolutely refuses to.
 He can't look Crowley in the eye as he gifts him—insurance the demon called it. Protection. For himself...and for his omega.
 Crowley must have concocted this arrangement to protect himself and his mate should an angelic threat arrive. Maybe he'd meant to use Aziraphale as insurance too—
 “I'll give you a lift, anywhere you wanna go.”
 Aziraphale looks at him then. Look at him and saw the patience, the hoping, the quiet, tenderness behind those dark glasses and it took everything Aziraphale had to rip himself away and exit the car.
 He...he mustn't get ahead of himself. But it was hard to tamp down the tiny seeds of hope, smashing them so they would never see light.
 But really…what did it change?
 Everything, maybe
 Because Crowley may have his mate, but he made it clear that Aziraphale was part of his pack too.
 And that was enough
 It had to be.
 You go too fast for me.
 ------------------------
In the years following, Aziraphale finds coping with his…unideal… feelings not-so difficult. He may be the beta of Crowley's pack, but for much longer than that, he'd been a thorn on his side, so it was easy to slip back into that role.
 They spend a few years raising the wrong boy ((and Aziraphale bites his tongue to avoid asking why he didn't ask his omega to have a hand in raising Warlock)), but despite the unusual convention (which is honestly par for the course for the two), the child comes out normal.
 Unfortunately, they are unsure if the same could have been said for the real antichrist.
 And Aziraphale is not sure what gripped him to withhold the boy's whereabouts— to go against the alpha—his alpha—and lie to him.
There is no our side.
Not anymore.
Maybe it was the insistence that heaven must be good, that a part of him believed with all his heart that they wanted the right thing too.
 and maybe...just maybe...he knew that if things went...pear-shaped...
 There was still a chance for Crowley and his mate to escape all this. That the blame could easily fall on Aziraphale, sparing the two.
 And when I'm off in the stars—I won't even think about you!
 Good, Aziraphale muses as Crowley drives away, even as every meter that separates them physically burns him.
 Betas are not essential.
 Crowley doesn't need him.
 He and his mate just need to be safe.
--------------------------
At the heart of it, Crowley is a liar. A pretty shite one, really. Says things he doesn't mean—doesn't want to say. But what else can he do when his beta refuses him at every turn?
 Lash out-like a child, apparently.
 All his plans have gone up in smoke, time was running out, and Crowley knows there's no turning back after Ligur ends up a pile of smoldering goo at the floor of his apartment. He feels a tug at his heart, knowing that it was Aziraphale who protected him that time, betraying everything he knew to give Crowley thermos. He can't give up—he'll drag Aziraphale away kicking and screaming if he could.
 Crowley walks out of his apartment, sidestepping the mess on his floor, when he feels— knows something is wrong. Every sense in-tune to Aziraphale is blaring—
 and just as suddenly, it all goes quiet.
 Crowley breaks both traffic laws and the laws of physics to find a burning book shop and no trace of his beta.
 Remorse battles with rage, but what triumphs above all is a resounding howl that anyone would be able to recognize—
 Mourning.
 Someone’s killed my best friend
 -----------------------
 Aziraphale feels his heart stop—well, if he still had one—at the sound of Crowley, there at the bar. He bites down the urge to yell at him, to tell him to grab his mate and run while they still have a chance—
 I lost my best friend.
 Aziraphale pauses, words caught in his throat. He'd been...selfish. So selfish. Of course, Crowley wants his pack intact. And Aziraphale was part of that.
 Crowley is truly a phenomenal alpha while Aziraphale is the most terrible beta in existence.
----------------------
"Wherever you are, I'll come to you—where are you?"
 Crowley almost lost his beta once. He won't let it happen a second time.
 "Come up with something or—
I'll never talk to you again"
 Because Aziraphale (finally, finally) stood with him.
 "We're on our own side."
 ---------------------
It's the final piece of the prophecy that Crowley was able to salvage that inspires the idea from Aziraphale.
 He knows his superiors. It will be hellfire— befitting a traitor who refuses to fall from god's grace. Crowley tells him that his will be holy water— that there will be a trial that Crowley is rigged to lose.
 Aziraphale knows there will be no such thing for him
 They have everything to lose and everything to gain with this final arrangement and on the dawn of that day where they make the switch,
 Aziraphale wonders if he will finally get a glimpse of Crowley's mate at the trial.
------------------------
 Crowley has enough sense to curb his anger, his fury, his outrage at the way they treat his beta. He doesn't roar at the injustice, in vengeance, as an alpha should. Instead, he smiles and breathe a flicker of hellfire at them, letting them know that Aziraphale has always been better than all of heaven could ever hope to be.
 And Crowley vows to stop being a coward and make Aziraphale know it too.
 -----------------------
 Aziraphale scans the crowds for any sign of disbelief, of horror and indignance on the faces of the demons around him as he is charged guilty.
 But no one steps forward and Aziraphale feels his heart fracture with pain and betrayal for Crowley.
 He deserves someone who would be here, who would do anything to see him again, Aziraphale thinks as he lounges in the bath of holy water, exuding the confidence and control an alpha like Crowley would project. He deserves better, he thinks, a bitterness rising like bile at the back of his throat.
 I could be—
 He stops that train of thought immediately.
 -------------------------
 Their plan succeeds and Crowley tempts him to a spot of lunch. Their dawn of a new day begins at noon and upon seeing Crowley (in his corporation) safe and whole, Aziraphale rides that high all the way to the Ritz.
 To the world.
 To the world.
 ----------------------------
 Aziraphale regales him the scene all over again, careful to leave out the part where none, not even his own mate, rose to defend him during the trial. Instead, he talks about rubber ducks as he refuses to look in Crowley's direction.
 He knows the way he's looking at him. He knows the soft, tender look the alpha gives him, and truly, what an injustice that someone like Crowley is mated with someone who holds such little faith in him
 But as a beta, it isn't Aziraphale's place to.
 He may be part of the pack, but he knows his place. Maybe...maybe Crowley's mate was told to stay hidden, just in case things went awry—
 You wouldn't have listened, Aziraphale's traitorous mind whispers. You would have been there for him.
 Precisely why I'm a beta, Aziraphale chuckles to himself. Could you imagine me, doing a thing Crowley's told?
 Preposterous.
 Just like the spikes of jealousy digging into the meat of his heart.
 Aziraphale knows he’s a terrible beta—but even more than that, he’s Crowley’s best friend, and he knows Crowley deserved the truth.
 "They weren't there, you know."
 "Who?"
 "Your mate." Aziraphale scoffs at the confused (panicked) reaction. "Oh, come off it— I know you've been courting someone for centuries."
 "Yes...that's true..." Crowley cautiously, carefully admits and although Aziraphale knew this for a fact— knew this like he knew the back of his own hand, the admission tore a bleeding wound right open.
 "Yes well...they weren't there. At the trial." Aziraphale bites his lip. "Where are...are they safe?"
 Crowley is looking at him strangely.  Aziraphale only wants straight answers. He's gone centuries without asking, always respecting this boundary between them—
 —but they were pack, weren't they?
 But then Crowley is smiling, a gleam of amusement sparking in his eyes. "The one I've been courting? I assure you, they were there at my trial."
 Suspicion—even indignance— arose. Aziraphale was quick to smother it. "Oh! I...I didn't see them."
 "Nope, they were there," Crowley said with such confidence that Aziraphale felt his very heart wither.
 Stop it, he told himself. You knew this was true. You knew he has a mate. And you knew he'd love them and be loyal to them no matter what.  Because Crowley is a phenomenal alpha...and Aziraphale is a wretched beta. "I...all right," he said faintly, hoping to distract himself with some cake, if only to counter the bitter bile rising at the back of his throat.
 "Mhm...they're the sole reason I'm still here," he said pointedly and at that, Aziraphale couldn't help but choke. "I owe everything to them."
 Of course.
 Crowley's driven to protect his mate against anything. He saved the world for his mate.
 And who was he to get in the way of that?
But if Aziraphale was ready to sink into the ground and possibly disappear for the next century or two to mend his own heartbreak, it was this statement that shoved those ideas straight into a pit of hellfire:
 "Yep," Crowley says with a knowing, teasing grin. "Brilliant idea they had too— switching bodies. Who else would have thought of that?"
 "YOU IDIOT, THAT WAS MY IDEA!"
At the back of his mind, Aziraphale knows he’s making a scene. And he’s possibly going to irreversibly damage his and Crowley’s relationship for this—
 But damn it all he'd gone centuries making sure this absolute idiot of a demon didn't get himself killed and not ONCE had he seen hide nor hair of his so-called mate.
 "AND FOR THE RECORD," he seethed. "YOU HAVE ABSOLUTE SHITE TASTES IN MATES!"
 "I disagree," Crowley replied and Aziraphale wanted to rip his hair out. "They may be a bit of a bastard at times, but they've always been there for me."
 "WHEN!?"
 This was disconcerting in many different ways:
 Mostly through the implication that Crowley got into even more trouble than Aziraphale was able to help him with.
 "Salem witch trials— was about to be hanged. Saved me from discorporation."
 Aziraphale frowns. He's done similar for Crowley— it figures that the demon would have gotten himself into that mess at least a second time.
 "14th century— The Plague. But they were always so eager to do the best they could, given the situation. Made the shite times less…shite."
 Aziraphale wouldn't have known, personally. It truly was a shite time indeed and Aziraphale had gotten discorporated as he spent his days healing the sick. He briefly recalled Crowley being there, shortly before his corporation ah...expired.
 “Rome was better, but not by enough of a margin. We had something to eat and suddenly my whole day was better."
 Hmm...maybe it happened sometime after their lunch? Perhaps dinner, no wait, he had dinner with Crowley too. But Crowley was in exceptionally good spirits the days following. It must have been sometime after then.
 "The Ark," he said softly. "They smuggled some children with me aboard."
 Aziraphale pauses. Wait...he’s sure only he and Crowley were aboard who knew about the stowaway children, then. After all, Aziraphale helped sneak them in.
 "19th century— had a nasty fight." Crowley is staring intently at him now. "He made it up to me."
Aziraphale feels his breath catch.
"Took about a century, but we got there. The holy water came in real handy, by the way."
 Wait—
 "Golgotha...lost a good friend at the time. They were there with me the days afterwards."
 Hang on—
 "In the 1940s, when a bomb dropped on the church—"
 That doesn't—
 "11 years ago— when I roped them into this scheme to stop Armageddon—"
 But—
 "The airfield," Crowley says. He’s no longer across the table. Aziraphale hadn’t realized he’d moved so close. "When I'd given up everything. They threatened me to do something— and I did. It ended saving all of us."
 No, that— that couldn't be right—
 "Eden," he breathes out. "He sheltered me during the first rains."
 Aziraphale isn’t quite sure when he stood up, but he sits down all the same. The pieces are in front of him but not slotting in the way he expects them to—
 —in the way he thought it was possible to.
 And then Crowley is holding his hand, at first laying his atop his own— and then lacing their fingers together.
 Fitting perfectly.
 He tears his gaze away only to meet those lovely, lovely amber eyes. Time around them stops like a bated breath. "You've always been there. Every time I needed you."
 To which Aziraphale, for all his knowledge and expertise of the written word, can only eke out an, "Oh," in response.
 And at that, Crowley can only laugh, relieved and so heartbreakingly happy as he closes the distance between them. "Yes, oh, my stupid mate."
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