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melbatron5000 · 2 days

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The Big Damn Kiss

Buckle up, my fellow Good Omens Ineffable Mystery Puzzlers, Crackpotters, and Assorted Brainrotters, because I learned something HUGE yesterday.

This will be a bit of a long post, because I want to show you exactly how I got where I am. I want you to understand. I want to put all the naysayers to bed (ha! But I'm still gonna try), and settle this once and for all.

I know (almost) exactly what Crowley gave to Aziraphale during the kiss.

DO NOT TAKE ANY OF MY THEORIES TO NEIL! PLEASE!

Okay? Okay. Thanks. Shall we begin?

Ahem.

Firstly, whether you believe me or not, I am 100% certain that Crowley did, indeed, give something to Aziraphale in his mouth during The Kiss. I've covered that in the link previous. Okay? Okay.

I did not know what it was. I've now heard theories that it was a bullet (nope), a ball bearing (nope), hellfire (nope), and no one, NO ONE has suggested what I see. (If you have, hello! Talk to me!)

Here's our first foreshadowing Clue:

And here's our next foreshadowing Clue:

And the next:

And our last Clue:

With me so far? Well, that first GIF is a bit off, I couldn't find one of Crowley actually spitting out the flies. But he does. When Beelzebub first drags him to Hell, he actually goes "Pleaugh!" and spits out four or five flies.

Moving right along, we come to Crowley in Heaven with Muriel, looking at the trial. We learn two important things here:

One, Gabriel doesn't have a desk.

Two, Muriel does. Where they keep the records. And it's a bit lonely. Every few hundred years, someone comes and asks for something. Muriel can't access the sensitive ones, you have to be pretty high up. A throne, dominion, or higher. Like, maybe Supreme Archangel?

So if Gabriel doesn't have a desk, whose desk is he at when he's getting ready to leave Heaven? Of course I can't find a damn picture of Gabriel at the desk, but it's Muriel's. Where they keep the RECORDS.

Gabriel puts his memory into the fly, then gets on the elevator to go to Earth.

Now, when Gabriel opens the fly with his memories inside, we find out that it's a container. Bigger on the inside. You can put thing(S) in it. The bit we see of him remembering is shot in two parts, one where he's flying down a red tunnel, one where he's flying down a blue. If you slow this scene down and watch, you can see that he is NOT looking at just his own memories. There is more going on here, more that he was not present for. @embracing-the-ineffable put up a great meta about that here. Go look!

Now I figured Gabriel must have taken something else. Something important. Something useful. Something he meant to give to Aziraphale, except he forgot.

I also figured he must have left whatever it was in the fly when he took his memories out. Crowley must have realized while watching the trial footage that Gabriel also grabbed something else. I don't know when Crowley grabs the fly, but he does. And that is what he gives to Aziraphale in the kiss. Why? Well.

I had no idea what Gabriel took until I started working on the chiastic structure of season 2. I'm not done with that analysis yet, but let me show you one thing that I have found so far:

(The numbers are just to try and help me navigate the story and its events without time stamps)

My note #357 of what happens isn't quite right, but when I saw the only two times Aziraphale says "I forgive you" are towards the beginning of Season 2 and towards the end, I realized I had something.

Rephrase line 357: Crowley's kiss is forgiven IN EXCHANGE FOR RECORDS.

(Not that I think Crowley's kiss needs to be forgiven. It's just what Aziraphale says, and had to say at that moment, because the Metatron was listening in.)

What does Heaven in Good Omens remind us of most of all?

A big corporate entity. And what do powerful people do when they get fired from a big corporate entity? They download all their emails while they're cleaning out their desks. Damning emails. Emails that can be used to black mail or even destroy big corporate entities. Or, ya know, maybe they swipe some sensitive RECORDS?

Oh yes.

Records that Gabriel meant to give to Aziraphale, but he forgot. Records that Crowley realized Gabriel had put in the fly. The fly that Crowley grabbed once Gabriel had his memory out. The fly that he gave to Aziraphale when he kissed him. The fly that no longer held Gabriel's memory, but did still contain those damning records.

Here's Aziraphale reading the records:

Here's Aziraphale being horrified and outraged by what he's reading:

And here's Aziraphale realizing he has got some GOOD DIRT on Heaven. Maybe enough to bring them down:

That's it folks. I have no idea what the records actually say, and maybe we're not meant to know until season 3, but whatever it is, it's GOOD.

That's my story, and by God Herself, I'm sticking to it.

#good omens #good omens 2 #crowley #good omens meta #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens analysis #good omens fan theory #ineffable mystery #aziraphale elevator #corporate heaven #the big damn kiss #the kiss #good omens muriel #good omens gabriel #good omens beelzebub

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ineffable-endearments · 8 months

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When you (generic, universal) talk about theories about the end of Season 2 and Aziraphale going to Heaven, you often run up against either:

taking everything at face value to the point of ignoring that some details contradict one another

accidentally nullifying major emotional, plot, and character beats by implying that they Didn't Really Happen.

A lot of the differences in analyses, especially ones that I like (LOL), can be explained by the fact that we're analyzing a character who is experiencing massive cognitive dissonance and believes a number of contradictory things at once.

Nobody is wrong to point out Aziraphale's need to Belong to a Good Cause, which makes his acceptance of the Supreme Archangel position entirely in-character; nobody is wrong to point out Aziraphale's anxiety around the Metatron, which indicates that he may have been coerced.

Did Aziraphale go back to Heaven because he's afraid of what will happen if he keeps refusing, or because the Metatron made an implicit threat? Did he go back to Heaven because he's vulnerable to flattery and wants to feel important? Did he go back to Heaven because he thought it would be a way to be permanently safe with Crowley? Or did he go back because he missed belonging to something Good, something bigger than himself? All of the above. It's all of them.

Yes, even though it's incredibly dissonant to believe a system that he KNOWS is dangerous and coercive can accomplish true Goodness, that is in fact his belief.

Admittedly, this is no one I follow - just random comments I see around from people I don't know very well - but it seems like some people out there are assuming Aziraphale can't possibly be making any plans to do anything remotely intelligent, because this would mean that he is already aware that Heaven is bad and would therefore leave no room for character growth.

Except no, that's not necessarily what it means. In fact, the cognitive dissonance is the main thing he is going to have to resolve. Having that dissonance - the belief that Heaven's ideals are genuine, along with the understanding that Heaven is dangerous and needs to be carefully manipulated - is what will move his plot forward. Mindless obedience wouldn't progress his story any more than magic brainwashing coffee would, and it would be equally inconsistent with his story and motivations so far.

The dissonance is the point. And part of the dissonance is that he already knows Heaven is dangerous - he just hasn't accepted what that means yet. It would make sense for him to simultaneously try to work within Heaven's system and watch his own back.

Also, only partly related: Neil might write a story about how the worst people exploit the need to belong and to be Good. He might write a story about how we have to become our own greater good. He might write a story about how to rebuild after you discover your greater good is not so great or good after all. He is not going to write a story about how having any faith or trust in something objectively bigger and stronger than yourself makes you a stupid clown who is wrong about literally everything and shouldn't have even tried.

Let Aziraphale fuck up. He needs to and he will. Whatever plans he was making in that elevator won't actually succeed. But give him credit where it's due.

Edited to add: And you know what? When he fucks up, he's going to get through it. And then he's going to do the right thing. And he's going to get it right when it matters the most.

#good omens #good omens 2 spoilers #go s2 spoilers #aziraphale #I am like SO SENSITIVE about Aziraphale because look #during the Final Fifteen he is the one saying the more hurtful things #and he is the one being misled back to an objectively bad place #but he is trying SO SO HARD #and I see myself in how incredibly hard he's trying

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luvvyouforever · 4 months

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hc: acotar boys + s/o with illyrian wings

↳ including rhysand, cassian, azriel, lucien, and tamlin.

↳ some mentions of nsfw content but majority sfw, does not go into detail.

a/n: i have not read the entirety of the series nor have i wrote for acotar before. but this was stuck in my mind and i just had to see it through. enjoy, dears ❀

rhysand:

-adores taking leisurely flights with you across the night court lands, velaris, you name it and you're going. on days where you both need to get away and find some peace, you would fly away to some peak of a mountain or to a wide open field of flowers. smiles at you the whole time you glide easily next to him.

-definitely compares wing spans all the time. "no, i swear mine are bigger! look!" as he's straining and stretching the tips of them out to elongate his wingspan. you laugh and play along because you know that yours are without a doubt bigger but you'll let him win this time.

-his already large bed expands when you sleep in it together, ensuring that your wings rest on the sheets comfortably. he knows how annoying it is to tuck them in tightly or let them droop off the ends.

-if you've had a bad day, he'll ask for your permission before massaging the spots of skin surrounding your wings before gently running his hands along them, sending shivers down your spine. sometimes this will lead to more as his apt hands cause you to whimper but if it has been a particularly rough day, he is content to give you physical comfort and nothing more.

-feels incredibly proud to have you. while he hates entering the court of nightmares and putting on his persona, he secretly loves walking in to the city with you as his partner, wings fiercely on display.

-and just for some small self-indulgence, i think rhys loves wing play. when the two of you are close in bed, passionate and sweaty, he loves running his hands along your wings and he flares his out so you can do the same to him. he just can't help groaning at your reaction. enough said (i am so perfectly normal about this)

cassian:

-races with you in the air. some days he is just bounding with energy and adrenaline and nothing helps him more than leaping off of the balcony of your townhouse and soaring high in the air, dodging one another, doing tricks, etc. while rhys loves peaceful flights with you, cassian is the exact opposite.

-if you ever feel insecure about your wings, he'll encourage you to be confident about them and let them out. he may notice that a party, you get insecure about taking up so much space and you try to tuck your wings in as close as possible, placing yourself in corners. he'll come to your side, spread his wings out and tap your back to tell you to do the same. "don't feel bad about them, sweets. you look glorious."

-your sleep habits are definitely...interesting. two people in one bed with enormous wings sprouting from the backs? yeah, it's a little hard to maneuver. but you manage and usually, in the morning, you end up sprawled on the bed, limbs tangled, hair in faces, pillows off the bed, but rested and comfortable nonetheless.

-cassian loves being a tease and throughout the day, anytime he sees you, he'll sneak on you and run a finger down the most sensitive part of your wings, causing reactions that make those around you just slightly uncomfortable. he laughs and giggles and you don't stay mad at him for long.

-he would find it really attractive if your wings were bigger than his or if you could take him down in a fight. he's spent his life being a fearsome warrior, stronger than everyone, and if his partner can spread their wings and tackle him to the ground, he'll be so excited.

-you know that scene in good omens where aziraphale covers crowley's head with his wing? yeah, cassian does that. if you're walking anywhere and it starts raining, snowing, etc. he will gladly place his wing over top of your head to keep you from getting wet. you appreciate it more than anything.

azriel:

-i like to headcanon azriel as being a little fancy and bougie. he definitely has piles of oils, lotions, and skin care products for his wings that he will share with you. he likes keeping them shiny, moisturized, and clean. more often than not, he'll have you sit down in the bathroom while he does a mini skincare routine for your wings alone. you love it and look forward to it every night.

-azriel's wings are canonically the largest of the bat boys and i think he feels a secret sense of pride about this. no matter how good of a warrior cassian is or how good of a leader rhysand is, he holds that over them and this reflects in your relationship. he doesn't feel threatened by them, both because he trusts them and because he knows your affinity for his wings.

-oh my god...his shadows dance all over your wings when you're together. they tickle and give you goosebumps along every part of your body. azriel pretends to rein them in but he loves seeing you giggle at the feeling and sometimes sends his shadows out to run along your wings when you need to cheer up.

-if anyone ever hurt your wings or damaged them in any way, he'd see red and nothing else. he knows how much wings matter to an illyrian and if you come home from a battle with your wings bleeding, ripped, or scarred, he'd immediately find them and make them wish they didn't do such a thing to you.

-when crowds and people and senses become too much for either of you, you'll slip off to some secluded place, usually your home, and wrap each other in your wings, enveloping you in darkness and quiet. it's a great remedy for headaches or overstimulation. in general, i think azriel hugs with his wings. his arms will be wrapped tight around your body and his wings will encase you as much as they can.

-some more self indulgence here...i think azriel isn't as fond of his wings being used in the bedroom but as for yours...shew. you know how his shadows like to play with your wings? he revels in your sounds, gasps, and surprise at the feeling of your most sensitive spot being touched so delicately.

lucien:

-lucien has always been fascinated with illyrian wings. i think he'd ask you so many questions about them, about how they feel, how it feels to fly, etc. he'd very politely ask for your permission before grazing them with his hands, taking in the beauty of them.

-he always wanted to fly like the illyrian warriors he was familiar with but he never asked you out of embarrassment. the first time he flew with you was out of pure need as you escaped from some kind of danger together. he couldn't get away fast enough so without thinking, you picked him up and soared into the sky with him. after that moment, he looks for any chance to fly with you.

-lucien is a fast learner when it comes to learning how to care for your wings. he picks up on the spots that ache the most and pays special attention to those after long days. he speaks to cassian and azriel about caring for them, and he takes their advice to heart, buying whatever he needs.

-sometimes, he feels insecure and wonders if you'd prefer to be with someone who can match your skill set and keep up with you better. you shut down those thoughts as soon as they come up and make some joke that illyrians are a cocky breed and that you'd much prefer to be with him. you even offer to train him in some illyrian fighting techniques which he quickly takes you up on.

-if someone stares at your wings while you're at some kind of spring court high society function, he'd shoot them an evil glare which is particularly intimidating. he reassures you that there is no need to hide the beauty of your wings and that he'd deal with anyone who says something bad about them.

-lucien can't help but blush when you casually use your wings to help him throughout the day. if he shivers at a draft blowing through open windows, your wing will find a spot behind him to block the cool air. you will block the bright sun when you're walking together, barely caring about the intense warmth. if you're fighting together, your wing blocks hits and acts as a barrier between him and an enemy. when he questions himself, he thinks about those small moments that show your love and smiles.

tamlin:

-i think that tam can feel a little threatened sometimes by your wings and skills as a warrior. he places a lot of importance in his position as a protector and it takes him some time to get used to having a partner that can defend themselves. once he does, though, you two are practically an unstoppable force.

-he tries to act very nonchalant about your wings out of fear of offending you by staring at them or touching them. the first time you catch him looking at them in the sunlight, you smile and tell him that you'd never be offended by him admiring them. after that, he's constantly raking his eyes along your wingspan, creating poetic lines in his head about how the stars reflect on the silky black skin.

-tam is possessive by nature and if he sees someone complimenting them or, gods forbid, touch them, he couldn't hold back the claws emerging. he knows very well that you will stand your ground but nobody touches his partner like that and he will let them know very quickly.

-he will never really admit it but he loves seeing you in the light, pastel colors of the spring court, especially when they contrast so heavily with the dark wings on your back. he thinks one of his favorite views is you laid out in the rose garden, soaking in the sunshine with your wings laid out entirely on the ground. his love for you swells and he wishes he had a camera to keep the view preserved forever.

-he loves to spoil you with the best wing care you've ever seen. i'm talking expensive oil infused with gold that creates the most beautiful sparkle along the wings. i'm talking handmade soap sourced from velaris that smells divine which he uses while you take a bath together. he thrives when he gets to spoil you like this.

-his first calanmai after you became partners is an entire story in itself. even while ferociously charged with power, he asks for your permission to touch your wings while in the heat of things. his delicate hands are so different from the rest of the way he's taking you and he draws sounds from you that bounce off the cave walls and echo for likely miles.

i hope you enjoy this! i really like writing headcanons so if you have any requests, please let me know! <3

#acotar #acotar series #acotar x reader #rhysand #rhysand x reader #cassian #cassian x reader #azriel #azriel x reader #lucien vanserra #lucien x reader #tamlin #tamlin x reader #acotar headcanon #headcanon #wings #fluff

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shadesofecclescakes · 1 month

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Are you a big fanfic reader? What have you read lately and what's been your favourite fic so far?

Oh mannnnnnnnn. Why don't you ask me to pick a favourite child while you're at it???

Just kidding. I don't have kids. But I assume having to pick a favourite would be hard if I did.

So, am I a big fanfic reader? YES. And what haven't I read lately? We are lucky enough to have so many talented writers in this fandom that it's possible to subscribe to numerous multi-chapter fics to the point where you're just constantly getting update emails. Which I do. It's great. It gives me something to do at work aside from, y'know, work.

*Me at work being smug about being paid to read porn* (Also I just wanted to look at this gif)

So what is currently on my endless update list? Coming up after the cut!

I am an absolute whore for human AU, so if you like that then you will probably like:

The Cure for a Broken Heart by @rofell

a medical student AU based in the Canadian medical system (I'm a Canadian so I was pretty excited about that). It manages to tackle the continued systemic discrimination of Indigenous people in our medical system (and in general), homophobia and the ensuing trauma from those things all while also being informative, funny, sweet, romantic and hot af. Like. It's so good.

Free by @maaikeatthefullmoon

This is another one with with a heavy topic that also does a great job of making sure to break it up with some excellent fluff, hurt/comfort and humorous moments. And it's handled with the sensitivity and thoughtfulness necessary to write something that takes place in a mental health ward and deals with some intense situations. Definitely make sure to read those author notes before diving in. They lay it out very thoroughly.

The Sincere Way by @tsyvia48

A martial arts AU. Crowley is a karate sensei and Aziraphale is his student. Slow burn that keeps you on the edge. The screams I have scrumt at my screen over this one. Plus you learn a lot about karate (but it never gets boring or over-explainey. Excellently balanced) which is pretty cool. Mostly light (there is some angst. This is the Good Omens fandom. I think we are all sad, wet chihuahuas at heart). Funny and sweet.

Terminus by @emotional-support-demon-crowley

Plus One by @caedmonfaith

Astronaut AU. Aziraphale is an astronaut who meets his mission controller, Crowley, over the comms system when he finds himself in need of assistance.

Super cool concept and really well-done in my opinion. Like, I don't do any space or physics-related work (ok I straight-up failed math 9) but I find it entirely believable. And it's well-written which is the entire point. Cute, funny slow burn with an intriguing mystery happening in the background.

Aziraphale has family money but a shitty family (except for Muriel! Never Muriel!) and his shitty brother Gabriel is getting married to shitty Michael, an Earl's daughter.

Aziraphale's family disproves of his entire life pretty much and he has been lying to them about having a boyfriend. Now they are expecting him to bring said boyfriend to the wedding. His famous footballer friend sets him up with their mechanic, Crowley.

It starts as a slow-burn but becomes a hilarious, smutty romp that just gets more and more insane. The chapter titles alone have made me cackle out loud.

Some older human AUs I'm a huge fan of include Old Vines by @sevdrag. Crowley owns a vineyard and Aziraphale is a wine critic. It is so amazingly written. It makes me think of the author Joanna Harris (Chocolat, The Five Quarters of the Orange) because it's SO beautifully, vividly descriptive that I end up craaaaaving wine. So have a bottle on hand if you're giving this a read.

Also the love story in this. My god. I devoured it. The story and the (many bottles of) wine.

There is also Loosely Ballroom by marginalia_device and mortifyingideal. It's a Strictly Come Dancing (Dancing with the Stars in North America) AU and it is so. Fucking. Good.

But it comes with a disclaimer. It's unfinished and looks likely to stay that way. But honestly? Still worth it. It's nearly finished (I think) so you have most of the story. And it's just SO good. It's been a while since I read it but it was one of the first human AUs I read and what got me hooked on them.

If you're still with me...nice! Just know that was me holding back and that isn't my entire list by a long shot. If you want more recs, feel free to message me and also share your own!

I just finished Slow Show the actor AU by @mia-ugly and yes please.

Some serious angst, pining and hot hot smut.

There is another long-form multi-chapter actor au I loooved but I can't remember the name for the life of me. Just that the show they were on was basically good omens and that they swapped roles with great success (inspired by the whole Michael thinking Neil wanted him to play Crowley when he wanted Aziraphale thing).

Thanks for the ask! That was really fun!

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #aziraphale x crowley #good omens fanfic #good omens fanfiction #good omens fan fiction #good omens fic rec #good omens fanfic rec #ask

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fuckyeahgoodomens · 1 year

Video

Michael Sheen on playing fantasy creatures, angels and the concept of goodness ❤. (MCM Comic Con, 30.10.2022)

Q: You've play a variety of various monsters over the years, like, various fantasy creatures, you've played: Lucian in Underworld, you've done Aro in Twilight, you've done both briefly Crowley but you've definitely done Aziraphale in Good Omens, who was your favourite to play and are there any, like, mythical creatureas that you still want to do?

Michael: Ooh, it's a good question. Well, because there's such a sort of tradition of vampires, you know, and I do like - having said that I don't like horror films, partly because I'm so... they have such power over me in a way and I'm so sort of sensitive to that material, that's partly why I didn't watch things - but I've always been fascinated by vampires and what they represent to us, what they symbolize to us, and how they've changed over the generations, you know, each generation sort of finds its own version of vampire, so doing twilight was part of that and I saw how that had affected my daughter those books and that story had affected my daughter and that you could see that was a very powerful thing and then, you know, werewolves as well, the idea of men and women, I suppose, who've... their anger and their appetite just sort of overtakes them, I mean, that's true of lot of them, arent' they, vampires as well, but I've always been drawn to all that... but in a way that challenge of playing an angel has been the one I enjoyed the most because I am sort of fascinated by goodness, what is it to be good and the concept of goodness and that we as a sociaty tend sort of undervalue goodness, it's sort of seen as somehow week and a bit nimby and 'oh it's nice' and, you know, not... and I think that to be good takes enormous reserves of courage and stamina, and... I mean, you have to look the dark in the face to be truly good and to be truly of the light and it takes such courage, and the most, the bravest people I've ever come across in my life are people who've gone through terrible tragedy and terrible pain and terrible grief, and have somehow managed to turn that into something positive, to make positive change for other people, and whenever I've met anyone who's done that I always think it's a miracle, it's an absolute miracle, and the idea that goodness is somehow lesser and less interesting and not as kind of muscular and as passionate and as fierce as evil somehow and darknes I think is nonsense. So the idea of being able to portray an angel, a being of love and... I loved seeing the things that people put online about angels being ferocious creatures and I love that, I think that's a really good representation of goodness can be, what it should be I suppose. So, yes, so I'm gonna say: the angel.

#good omens #michael sheen #mcm 2022 #twilight #aro volturi #underworld #lucien #goodness #angels #bts #fun fact #interview #michael interview #videos #transcripts #❤

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nightgoodomens · 3 months

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bullshit bingo take of the day i just stumbled upon: "crowley only helps job and elspeth because he doesn't like hell and wants to spite them"

and i'm ashamed to admit it but that gave me severe anxiety. i usually ignore the bad takes but i'm not having a good day mentally and i feel like i'm going crazy so i guess i really need to ask. i'm no delulu right? crowley doesn't do it to spite hell and be rebellious but only because he's kind and selfless and wants to help and protect?

You know, this is the reason why I am cutting myself away from the Good Omens fandom more and more, and I might recommend you cutting yourself a little bit off as well - filter your dash with people who you know post the good stuff, things you love, and don’t look for general opinions etc anymore.

There are still awesome people out there who haven’t forgotten what this show and characters actually are.

I remember when I joined with Season 2 and told myself wow this is the first normal fandom I’ve ever been in - how?! - lmao, no. It is like every other fandom out there where you simply have to find your people and ignore the rest.

At the beginning I felt like it was insane and amazing how everyone got along, bloody hell, people posting opinions, analysing everything, the disagreements were kind, interesting conversations, so many clues being found, general respect, everything worked with canon so people agreed to disagree on little things… most of all so much love for the characters for exactly who they were and for the show for exactly what it was.

Cue in a few months later and everything is negative, characters are monsters, or pathetic, or whores/sluts/dogs, trolls everywhere, so much hate, and anon hate, canon is non existent, everything; the story and the characters and every scene are fetishised to the extreme and have nothing to do with what they have been portrayed to be, and actually apparently we were all wrong and Good Omens is an extremely hardcore sex show after all, and the metas are now how it proves that they should be in an extreme dom/sub relationship - yeah the two guys who’s whole story is that they need to be set free. Crowley is treated in a way that makes me feel sick at this point because people talking about the horrible things that should be done to him and saying it would be good for him actually makes me shudder. It is scary how so many people talk about sensitive topics that they don’t understand at all. Some takes are actually horrifying at this point and I hope they don’t genuinely have such opinions in real life when real people are involved. And the fans acting like such things are absolutely normal and this is how majority of relationships out there are like are frankly worrying me. Aziraphale was completely stripped off his personality too. So much to unpack about this insanity but I don’t want to dig into it. Not everything should be normalised.

In a way I wonder if there was an influx of fans who never watched the show, just know it from fics/fanart.

I was getting extremely angry about these things but I finally let it go and just blocked, and blocked, and blocked. Now I barely see anything like this. I had to step away from AO3. I scroll the dash a lot less. And I simply started focusing on other things again.

When it reaches the moment when you cringe seeing Good Omens because people ruined scenes for you - step away. That’s when I knew I have to start blocking and filtering because I didn’t want to start associating the show with cringe - it doesn’t deserve it.

Just find your circle of likeminded people. So this fandom brings you joy not a headache. And ignore the rest.

#NightGoodOmens answers

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profeyandere · 5 months

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𝐆𝐀𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐋 ─── ☾ 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐘

Masterlist || Good Omens Masterlist || Wattpad

Word Count: 2.9k

Pairing: Archangel Gabriel / Jim x Demon!Reader

Warning: Spoilers from season 2

English is not my native language, so I apologize for any mistake and if you can help me improve it, I will greatly appreciate it. I hope you enjoy it :D

"You can't put the supreme archangel on me because you're going for a walk around Edinburgh!"

Your strong and powerful voice echoed between the enormous and high walls of Aziraphale's bookstore, feeling how a wave of heat ran through your body from the tips of your fingers to the highest hair that decorated your head and settled intermittently on it, causing your face to turn a heavy reddish tone as if that were a sign that you were literally about to explode. It was a strange sensation. You weren't even able to describe it in words, but you knew for sure that it couldn't be good, much less because your face had turned that powerful redness that caught the attention of the angel and the demon who had given you convened at the well-known bookstore in the Soho neighborhood. The idea that you were a 'known' demon to both entities did not make you friends, nor did it make you have a close relationship, much less because of what you really were, and that made you an enemy for at least one of them; With the demon, you had forged nothing more than a relationship of respect, but the angels had always been faithful enemies of your kind and you had to avoid as much as possible showing any type of affection or respect for those of their kind. Perhaps you had known Crowley and Aziraphale for longer than you would care to admit, if you also wanted to count the few years you had been working in Heaven with them before the revolution against the Creator occurred, but while you had been in Hell acting like the demon you were, you had lost any kind of contact with the angel and restricted that belonging to the demon because you considered it quite inappropriate to have a close relationship with anyone of your own species, even if they were nice enough to know even your deepest secrets.

"Please, my dear, this is truly important," Aziraphale said, being the brave one who had dared to take the floor after making sure how your aura, completely distorted by the anger you felt, became clearer to him again. Maybe you wouldn't be full of love, demons couldn't feel that in themselves according to earthly gossip, but at least it wasn't something so bad that you were going to explode. "Take care of Gabriel, of Jim, for a couple of days. It won't be long, and before you know it, we'll be here, and you can go back to your routine demonic tasks."

Your flashing yellowish, golden eyes stopped on the chubby figure of the angel, slowly raising your lower lip while a growl emerged from the back of your throat and came out as a soft sigh that was lost in the air. It was obvious how irritable and sensitive you were at that moment as if at any second you could attack them or yell at them in such a way that you would attract the attention of any living being that was inhabiting the face of the Earth.

"Will I also have to babysit the Inspector Constable who has been looking out the window since I entered the bookstore and has followed me here like an abandoned puppy, or will I only have to cover the basic needs of the big guy who is upstairs?" You asked, uncrossing your arms as a heavy sigh escaped between your lips, trying to calm the nerves that both beings had made you. "Furthermore, I cannot perceive him correctly. How am I supposed to take care of him when I can't see him well or my memories are blurred when there's something about him? I didn't even know he was in front of me when I came to tell you about Lord Beelzebub's order."

"Don't worry, my adorable demon, because we have changed a couple of things about the little miracle to make it easier for you to recognize him," Crowley intervened, placing his large hands on your shoulders, squeezing them playfully before gently patting your back to encourage you. "Remember that this is because the little angel has heard some nonsense coming from Gabriel's mouth and has assumed that it has to do with his memory fading."

"It's a clue," the white-haired man stressed as he raised his voice a little more to point out with more force the reason for his early departure from London. "It may seem stupid, but he's been singing that little song all morning, and thanks to my landlord I've discovered that there's a place in Edinburgh that has problems with their jukebox. It seems that, regardless of the song chosen, it always changes to the same one that Gabriel was singing."

You couldn't help but raise a skeptical eyebrow.

"It's not the best clue, but it's something," the redhead murmured, sighing and removing his hands from you, returning to stand next to his friend. "So, we leave you in charge of Gabriel and the bookstore."

"Indeed, prevent people from buying my books, and I will compensate you in some way in the future," the one with blue eyes agreed, making you frown slightly at his words. "Please be very patient with him. He doesn't remember anything."

"I already had patience once in Heaven, I don't promise to be so stupid as to continue being so while I'm on the side of Hell," you murmured, ignoring Aziraphale's look of fear and Crowley's small, amused smile. "Have your adopted child come down, and I'll see what I can do with him."

And what a surprise you were when you finally met up with the missing man shortly after the dynamic duo left the store, who was now Jim, which was short for James, which in turn was short for Gabriel, according to what he said. His appearance was so similar to the one you remembered and, at the same time, so different from the one you had seen him in as if you somehow knew that in front of you was the egocentric and cold supreme archangel who had so often teased you while you were working in Heaven and scolded you as he found you at some point during your stay on Earth, but at the same time you felt like you were inhabiting the library with a completely different person than the one you knew; It was all too strange, you simply didn't have words to explain that. A small beginning of beard had begun to appear on his profiled face, now slightly wider due to the slight weight he had gained in recent days thanks to the large amount of hot chocolate he had been drinking thanks to his repeated requests to Aziraphale since he had tasted that sweet drink, while his clothing was completely opposite to what he had once worn. Now, he seemed homely, a man full of peace and a good angel.

When you saw him, you almost hit him. This happened because you thought he was an evil double twin or something similar, mainly because he was completely identical to his angelic version except for the violet glow in his eyes, which he had not shown even though Aziraphale and Crowley had mentioned that in very moments punctually he seemed to come to his senses when he remembered events in biblical history in which he had been forced to intervene in one way or another; It was as if God communicated with both the angel and the demon through him. Going back to the same point you had mentioned before: Gabriel and Jim seemed to be the same person, only he had no memories of what he once was, and that meant that you now had to take care of a grown man who simply didn't understand how the world, gravity or electricity worked. You didn't understand much about both things either, you had not been in charge of the creation of the planets, and neither had it been in your mind to create the power plants and the distribution of it throughout the houses.

Although your first interactions were quite awkward, Jim made sure of something that he wasn't too happy about, even if it took him a whole day to realize it.

"Why do she keeps avoiding me? If we already know each other."

His voice, low and soft, echoed between the walls of his small room and, although Jim knew that he was with you in that huge store and that it was very unlikely that you would not hear him, he did not understand the reason why you had avoided him so much. It was as if you were afraid of someone or you were seeing a ghost. For him there was no other alternative. Although Aziraphale and Crowley reacted in a similar way upon meeting him, with surprise and slight fear, your gaze on him was different. He could tell by the dull glow in your eyes and your restless fingers that drummed on any nearby surface, as if you had the intention of saying something to him every time you were in the same room. He had seen you before, and not only did he sense it because he had literally done it before, the same day Mr. Fell's friends arrived at the store, but he recognized you from something before. He had seen you before, he had recognized you from somewhere else, and he had had a warm feeling that spread through his chest every time his blue eyes turned towards you as if a wave of sweetness and warmth settled inside him in a very different way than the way hot chocolate did and subsequently exploded in his belly; It was too strange to explain, but he really liked being around you because of the way you made him feel, even if you didn't do anything in particular to make him feel like his body was about to explode into fifty different pieces.

It was such a warm feeling, so nice, that he wanted to have it all day.

Determined to find you and face his thoughts and feelings once and for all, he stood up from the bed with a slight start, twisting his entire body and moving to sit up and finally stand up, ignoring the fact that the sheets that had been around him as he was lying down and fell to the floor with a thud muffled by the carpet. He walked around the upper floor as if the bookstore had been his since he bought it, as if he somehow knew it like the back of his hand and recognized every corner and every step he had to take to avoid knocking over any of the stacks of books that had been piling up as the days went by while Aziraphale and Crowley had been away from London. To his gratifying surprise, a soft, barely perceptible melody seemed to bathe the tent. A male voice overshadowed by a more angelic, sweeter, and more wonderful one caused his heart to jump inside his chest, so he did not take long to walk with impetus and speed towards the place from which said sound came. He knew it was you, deep in his heart he knew it was you. And sure enough, there you were, he hadn't made a mistake. You were sitting in Aziraphale's old chair while one of the books he had been organizing in the morning rested softly in your hands while the time melody coming from the record player made him smile softly knowing that this was the song he had been singing that same day unconsciously.

"Is that the disk that Mr. Fell took this morning?"

The sudden sound of Gabriel's voice made you come to your senses, causing the music on the record to quickly stop and you to close the book in your hands tightly, slowly diverting your golden gaze towards his barely perceptible bluish one. The darkness enveloped him. You could barely make out his masculine features, but you knew that he was there, in that dark corner, watching you. You swallowed hard for an answer, but simply grunted and then gently placed the book on the desk in Aziraphale's office, glancing sideways at the man who had taken a couple of steps for you to see, being as stealthy as the angel had mentioned. He had started thinking about putting a rattle on Jim or something similar so he wouldn't be scared, but you just needed that heavenly and playful sound to be able to disappear from Gabriel's sight as soon as possible; you had no need to see him because of the various feelings he evoked in you and the memories that resurfaced after so many years.

"Mr. Fell took one of the many records that Maggie has," you commented, seeing how his expression changed to one of confusion that deep down caused a feeling of tenderness to appear in you, mainly because she had tilted her head as if a confused puppy would be treated. "Maggie is a woman who has a record store next door. I asked her for a copy so I could listen to it."

"Great, I like it," he murmured before approaching the gramophone to try to find out why nothing was heard if the device was still working. "Why doesn't it sound? Is it broken?"

Your sparkling gaze lingered on his tall, broad Gabriel's body, lingering on the breadth of his shoulders and the scoop of his back, without specifically answering his question. Those had been some of the few words that you had exchanged with him and, although you had noticed his constant need to be close to you to be able to talk or simply be in the same space as you, you were always looking for a way to get out of it, whether it was leaving the bookstore for coffee or hiding in the record store, even transforming into the little bat that your demonic form allowed you and keeping yourself out of his sight by hiding in the darkest and most remote places of the bookstore; It wasn't the best way to act, especially having an amnesiac in your care, but you didn't want to suffer more pain from being around him. Jim, or Gabriel, turned to look at you, and, again, that warm and pleasant feeling settled in his chest. He didn't know what you were doing to him with that look, but he liked it.

"It's not broken. I've just removed the sound," you said before snapping your fingers, and the soft bells that were heard from the song began to flood the room again, causing a smile full of fascination to appear on the man's lips again. "You should be sleeping, Jim."

"I couldn't sleep," he indicated, walking slowly towards the sofa that was in front of the chair you were sitting on, letting himself fall heavily on the furniture before leaning forward slightly and staring at you as if trying to figure out what you were thinking. Thanks to the light of the moon, the stars, and the street lamps, he could see your expression full of confusion and slight irritation. "Why do you avoid me so much? Mr. Fell looks after me, Mr. Anthony looks after me, but you avoid me. Why?" “

I think Crowley does anything but worry about you,” you murmured in slight confusion at his statement. You really didn't expect him to confuse something as different as care and protection from hatred and irritation.

"Why do you avoid me so much? I just want you to answer that question for me."

His tone of voice seemed to be louder and more desperate than before, surprising you for it. For a second, you almost thought that Jim was truly Gabriel, as if from one moment to the next he had completely recovered his memory, but seeing his blue eyes only made you see that he was not there; Whatever Jim was, he wasn't Gabriel.

"Because you're just like someone I knew," you began, swallowing without really believing that you were willing to confess everything to him. "He was the dumbest, most self-centered, and ruthless being he could have ever met, but deep down, he was loving, tender, and caring."

Jim stared at you while you talked about that person he reminded you so much of. The soft smile that rested on your face while you talked about that man, whom you insulted every few seconds but then flattered as if he were the most beautiful creature in the entire galaxy, caused a smile to also settle on his face. He noticed how your shoulders loosened and relaxed as you talked about him, about Gabriel, about how you had met in a place very far from London, where for minutes it seemed only you existed in the immensity of the universe, observing with fascination the stars while others around you saw your close relationship as something disastrous that no creature beyond humans could feel; You described him with so much zeal, with so much affection, that he felt jealous deep down in his heart. "And does this song remind you of him?" Jim asked as he gently tilted his head, watching as you nodded gently and stretched your long legs towards him.

"I like it a lot. I think it is ideal for you."

“Yes,” you stated softly. "Every day, it's a gettin' closer."

"Going faster than a roller coaster," he continued, following the rhythm of the song as it resonated, gently extending his legs on the carpet to touch your completely black shoe with his slipper.

« And a love like yours would surely come their way, » thought an adorable fly fluttering gently above your heads.

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bl-sensei · 8 months

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Analisis of Crowley and Aziraphale’s traumas

PS : ! I’d like to warn that I’m absolutely not a psychiatrist and that my analysis is entirely based on research on the internet and personal experience/knowledge ! / Also I used both she/her and he/him for Crowley

I think Crowley has two kinds of Complex traumas: Betrayal trauma & traumatic Aloneness. Betrayal trauma can develop when your trust is violated by people/someone you depend on to respect your needs and help safeguard your well-being. It’s something that develops most often in child/parent relationships but I think it’s pretty clear here that the person that betrayed her was God. We know they had a close relationship as she was highly ranked and if she was in the highest orders like most of us think then she would have been directly (or practically) in contact with God. Also, something I noticed is that Crowley never mentioned the Great War between Heaven & Hell as a protest or something, always as something that happened and he was there, even having fun. He wasn’t looking for revenge, he was just hanging around and having fun, and asking questions. That would mean Crowley trusted God so much that he thought She would’ve never hurt him, he thought he could ask Her questions, he thought he could trust Her. And She betrayed him.

I also think she developed trauma from her loneliness because in S2ep2 we can see that she seemed to suffer from it (and from personal experience too). I think that’s also part of why she encouraged Aziraphale to be on his own side, because she didn’t want to be alone anymore.

From that, I think he developed really unhealthy trauma responses; the most obvious one being his codependency on Aziraphale. Some of the symptoms I found include:

Ignoring own needs, preferences, thoughts, and feelings to please the other (Crowley never tells Az what she knows about Heaven to not hurt his feelings/fight with him)

Holding back on opinions and desires to please another person, and in an attempt to avoid any conflict. (S2 ep3)

Feeling sorry for the other person, even when they hurt you (When Az would choose Heaven over her in S1, because he knows that it’s hard for Az)

Doing anything for the other person, even if it makes you feel uncomfortable, simply to make the other happy (S2 ep1)

Self-sacrifice (They’d both die for each other)

Difficulty recognizing, expressing, and/or managing emotions (S2 ep6)

Tendency to apologize or take on blame in order to keep the peace (S2 ep1)

The habit of making decisions for others or trying to “manage” loved ones (He tries but always concedes to Aziraphale)

Guilt or anxiety when doing something for yourself (S1 ep4 & S2 ep1)

Thoughts of suicide (we don’t know for sure but Az mentioned it in S1ep3)

Chasing people who don’t want them for affection (Aziraphale always pushes her away but she still stays, even after 6,000 years)

There are other symptoms I would add but am not sure of :

Perceived lack of personal identity (He doesn’t really have anything he's attached to apart from his Bentley which is recent; his gender is fluid – I’m not saying it’s necessarily because of trauma, but it could come from/be emphasized by a lack of self-identity)

Low self-esteem (I think that emphasized – with the lack of communication – the misunderstanding in S2ep6 as she thought that Aziraphale couldn’t like her because she’s a demon)

Sensitivity (his way of dealing with trauma is to avoid it. And the only time he did actually try to face conflict it ended badly. I think this left really heavy damage in Crowley’s mind. I honestly don’t know how S3 can go well.)

I found this citation: – “Recourse to another person can confuse an ordinary love relationship with a relationship of need. In fact, meeting a partner with characteristics suited to a person's inability to be alone can sometimes crystallise into an "addictive relationship", avoiding any solitude experienced or felt.” –

And I really think that’s what happened to Crowley. I’m sure she truly loves Aziraphale, but I also think her feelings for him tend to be more of “need” than “love”. I think she started to truly fall in love with him after Job’s event when she saw he was like her: grey. And I think that it influenced her behaviour toward Aziraphale and that would explain why she’s so overprotective of him, because she went through the same things as him and knows how it’s like; so she wants to protect Az from it and give him what she sadly never had: someone. I can’t imagine how they must have been lonely on their respective sides; they needed each other.

I think Aziraphale also has a kind of Complex trauma: Religious trauma (RTS). (The symptoms are comparable to betrayal trauma so here I’ll just analyse the ones applicable to Aziraphale specifically). RTS occurs in response to two-fold trauma: first the prolonged abuse of indoctrination by a controlling religious community, and second the act of leaving the controlling religious community. As we know Aziraphale was indoctrinated in thinking that Heaven was “the good guys” and Hell “the bad guys”, and despite the acts of Heaven not being the “goodest” he still stuck to that idea even until the end of S2. But the second part of this trauma, the leaving part, wasn’t really shown as it occurred during the 4 years separating S1 and S2, but I think it affected him as “religious communities often serve as the foundation for individuals' lives, providing social support, a coherent worldview, a sense of meaning and purpose, and social and emotional satisfaction. Leaving behind all those resources goes beyond a significant loss; it calls on the individual to completely reconstruct their reality.” When Gabriel found him, when he investigated or when he helped Maggie & Nina he seemed so happy. I know he’s a sweetheart but I don’t think quitting Heaven didn’t affect him (even though it clearly helped with his anxiety), if he helped all those people it’s also because that gave him a purpose. His purpose was to be an angel & obey God, who is he now that he doesn’t do that anymore ?

This left some noticeable scars on Aziraphale’s behaviour:

Difficulty perceiving and responding to others' emotional states (S2ep6)

Poor affect regulation, difficulty identifying and expressing emotions and internal states, and difficulties communicating needs, wants, and wishes (Saying “I forgive you” is his way of expressing things he can’t process/proceed to say out loud)

Problems with judgment, 'cause-effect' thinking, critical thinking (S2ep3)

Difficulty with decision-making (S1ep6 & S2ep2, I think it’s important because he was a Principality and they're supposed to help make important decisions even during crises)

Emotional & social immaturity resulting from the control of information and discouragement of critical thinking within the religious environment. (The “Good guys” & the “Bad guys”)

The symptoms are less noticeable than Crowley because, unlike her, he never really expresses his thoughts or feelings because of RTS

Aziraphale’s way of dealing with trauma is different from Crowley’s ; while Crowley rejected everybody and closed in on himself, Aziraphale just denied everything. Betrayal trauma theory acknowledges that victims unconsciously keep themselves from becoming aware of betrayal because it could be traumatic. That’s why he spends most of S1 defending Heaven because he’s been “raised” to think they were “the good guys”, admitting that they aren’t would mean that he’d spend all his “life” (that being millions of years) being wrong and actually not doing the right thing, which is so important for him to do; but also that his whole existence is a lie as he wasn’t created to actually do “good”. It’s pretty much the same as in The Truman Show, except that Truman would tell himself that the cameras are surveillance cameras and that the people around him just want to protect him the best they can. And at the end of S2 he has actually not changed, he’s still delusional thinking there’s still good in Heaven. He thinks there’s good in everyone, because, I guess, there must be, his whole existence can’t just be a lie. Plus it’s only been 4 years, it’s nothing for him, he hasn’t been able to swallow the information yet.

The problem is that Aziraphale is delusional and Crowley comforts him in this idea, and neither of them notices that. In S1 Crowley always prevented him from having to choose between Heaven and her, and in the end the problem resolved itself; but when it reoccurred in S2 Crowley kept protecting Aziraphale, that’s why he chose Heaven in the end: he always chose Heaven and Crowley was always there so he thought she would be there again, but this time she wasn't.

We know it’s Crowley the “problem” because the only time Aziraphale chose something else over Heaven it was Earth, which he knew couldn’t follow him; unlike Crowley.

I found this other citation: – “A healthy, supportive relationship involves listening, striving to understand, and keeping in mind the concerns of another person. Codependency is when that caring behavior crosses the line into trying to direct or control them.” – And I think it really represents their relationship because that’s exactly what happens between them: they never listen to each other, they never try to understand each other, all they care about is taking care of the other in their own way regardless of if that’s what the other wants or not. They’re ironically selfish in their selflessness.

I think Crowley finally leaving Aziraphale in ep6 was actually a great thing (in a way) as it was him stepping out of his codependency. Now it’s Aziraphale’s turn to deal with his traumas.

#crowly x aziraphale #good omens #good omens 2 #good omens 2 spoilers #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #character analysis #crowley

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hopefulgardenshark · 8 months

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Human eyes on angelic love or how the audience plays Emma

I have been struggling with the bit of talk Maggie and Nina gave to Crowley in Season 2. It sounded like a false tone in the series, and I could not help but repeat after Crowley, "Why are you telling me all this?" I think that Maggie and Nina can be read as an allegory of the (human) audience looking at two celestial beings in love and projecting, projecting, projecting…

In any case, I sat down and went through all 12 episodes to find common threads, the grains of Season 2 built in Season 1. At this point, I am trying to make sense of the relationship development to date. And I put some Jane Austen there, just a tiny bit :) And this entry is LOOOOONG...

The Established Problem

Aziraphale is the being of love, an expert on love in its all its forms, and he picks it up like radiation. Crowley is the being of reason, a purely Cartesian mind, unable to sense love at all, and he really sucks at being lonely.

Angel and demon cannot even be seen together; it is considered treason. The consequences for traitors are clear: the utter obliteration beyond the destruction of a body (Episode 3). The dark innuendo is sprinkled throughout Season 1, mainly through Crowley's mutterings. The actual destruction sequence in Season 1, Episode 6 underscores the seriousness of the Problem.

Courtship and early stage of love

On the human level, in Season 1, both angels are presented to us in a courting relationship that goes from distrust to trust to closeness. The trope used here is a classic frenemies-to-lovers trope mixed with a relationship-based-on-intense-experiences setup (You've Got Mail and Speed 1 mélange, sorry for 1990s referencing…).

Season 1 is focused on Aziraphale realizing his feelings towards Crowley and acting on them. We do see the closeness and mutual infatuation building throughout the ages to the reciprocal realization in 1941 (Episode 3). We see growing together and growing apart until the relationship is cemented in courtship. At that point, we already know Aziraphale can sense flashes of love (Episode 2). He was saved by someone who cared and trusted him with his life. The books cut it for him as a declaration of sorts. However, Crowley is not that sensitive and needs something more than an "it was very kind of you" to understand that his angel loved him back. So he got the Holy Water some three decades later. That was it for him, an act of caring love (because it was spooky and he enjoys spooky…?). And he was quick to jump on it, so we got "You go too fast for me, Crowley." If someone wants to go Jane Austen trope, this season is full of Pride and Prejudice “deeds of love” and “preparing the ground so I can court you” acts.

That brought us to the dating stage that coincided with Armageddon affair. The whole pheromone-padded-love right there in front of our eyes, sexy blowing off the paint included, dreams of escaping together, will-they-will-they-not-fights. We also learn that Crowley knows Aziraphale loves him (bandstand scene). And that Aziraphale is cool with Crowley's feelings for him, taking them matter-of-factly (pub scene). They speak about friendship, however, which introduces cognitive dissonance into the trope and our human minds. But they are angels, and we know from Season 2 that their understanding of romantic love is blurry at best.

The love's happy endings are mirrored in the other two couples from Season 1 on display, but we, humans, still do not see anything palpable. Why?

On the purely thematic level, the Established Problem is the leading cause. Their "no-side" moment after the failed Armageddon lasts a day at most. They are still considered important enough to get obliterated by their previous employers. When they manage to escape their fates, they must "lie low." There are no human markers of what we would like to see as human dating and human love: kissing (in the rain… uhm), "I love you's" and such. Still, the nightingale sings in the end, which should give us, humans, a strong hint that there is something afloat there.

Relationship make-it-or-break-it stage

In Season 2, we get the long-term couple-in-the-making story. We see Crowley and Aziraphale past the courtship, settling into their long-term relationship (with an intense Fawlty Towers or I Love Lucy vibe). We learn more about their dark secrets (like hedonistic and lying Azirphale or loneliness-wary and kind Crowley), which aligns with how human relationships develop. In this stage, partners have been interacting for a long time, and the first pink glasses of romantic love change into a more realistic overview. This is when people decide if they can live with the natural person in front of them or they cannot. And they also understand that long-term relationships entail melting a part of themselves into a WE.

The whole Season 2 is a meta-commentary on how our human understanding of love is flawed.

First, we can see our angelical power couple getting interested in human love, of all things. In Season 1, they were interested in various other areas of human life, but not romantic love. Of course, they are pulled into this by the circumstances and Aziraphale's penchant for love in all its forms (I mean, doesn't he know about Sodoma and Gomorrah stuff??? He does, and he disapproves). So we get an angelic look at our human emotions through Jane Austen and Richard Curtis movies. The angels meddle with the lives of two humans (Nina and Maggie) to get the love outcome using the means they think should work. They get called out for it.

We also see them getting closer to each other the way long-term partners get. So we see their individual lives melt into one. As is customary in human relationships, their reactions to this process are different: Aziraphale, feeling the radiation of reciprocated love, is entirely at ease (as in "our car," "our bookshop"). While Crowley acts confused, trying to keep his own individual self while being a part of a "group of two." (cf. "C: (…)the precious peaceful fragile existence that I have carved out for myself here. A: I thought we carved it out for ourselves."). Aziraphale is way ahead in getting to the nesting stage.

I need to make a caveat here about the "living in his car" business as it is related to Crowley's slow change from "my existence/my car" to "we/our" thinking. The whole S2 plays out within a maximum of one week. Shax brings Crowley his mail for the first time (because she has no idea what to do with it) in Episode 1. And then again at the end of the Season. Usually, this type of mail comes at the same time in the month, once per month, so we can safely assume that Crowley has been living in his car for less than a month, probably around two weeks at the show's beginning. Why doesn't he move to the bookshop? I dare to say that, on the face of it, it is still the Established Problem. There has not been any clear resolution to that Problem in any episode post-trials, so Crowley and Aziraphale are not 100 percent sure whether it is safe to be openly together. "We've spent our existence pretending that we aren't" refers to this simple truth. They do not pretend to EACH OTHER; they pretend to the outer world because they live in fear of repercussion. Of course, on the thematic level, staying put in his Bentley also plays nicely as a metaphor for Crowley still struggling to fall into the "we" mindset.

The whole show is focused on love-blind Crowley naming his feelings in human terms (love, that is) and moving into the "we" stage. He is cued by Aziraphale, who is now bolder and less afraid of the consequences than he was in Season 1. Crowley was a Nothing-To-Lose lover in Season 1; now it is Aziraphale literally caressing him into an "us" (no episode passes without our angel touching his demon) and even getting him to dance. On this: Aziraphale is love-clever enough to dance and recreate the pattern of human love to experience it in a human way while giving us, humans, a lot of very needed cues. Crowley is human-love dumb, not an "expert." Btw this is how I read Aziraphale expression in the scene with Muriel, when he clearly thinks, "Are you really? Because I cannot tell…"

Nina makes Crowley aware that he looks like half of a human romantic partnership. Hearing that, he is so delightfully confused: it can be soul searching confusion (OK, right, love, and what should I do about it?) or alarm-bell confusion (OK, right, so we are in danger). And then she utters the key message of the show: "Other people's love lives always seem so much more straightforward than our own."

Nina and Maggie tell Crowley that he and Aziraphale don't talk to each other about being in love, assuming they should. This is a pure Emma-like storyline: Emma gave love advice eagerly while projecting her own expectations/issues/fears/beliefs/needs onto others. Nina and Maggie misread what is happening with our angelic couple because if the guys don't kiss and hold hands in the open, AND they don't live together (ouch), they are not an item in human understanding. They assume our angels have communication problems and should be declaring love for each other right on the spot. They know nothing of the Established Problem; they know nothing about 6000 years of ever-mastered communication skills that included numerous con acts for two (starting with Job and finishing with Antichrist) and soul-reading (I don't even like you – You do!), nor 50 years of courtship (roughly). They assume the right to interfere with angels' love life coming with naïve and intruding advice, the same way the angels had assumed that right in the first place. A perfect mirror.

When Crowley is conveniently nudged to act human in love, he goes for it with his usual fiery conviction. He just learnt that it is not the rain nor a dance after all, but… talking? OK, let's show Aziraphale these new skills! He starts his so-called confession in the spirit of "Let's get it done with and go to Ritz like humans in love and then maybe somewhere else not as humans." But he gets interrupted, and all spirals out of control (btw I do not share the Rejection trauma anymore, but I will post later why). But there is one crucial change in circumstances: the Established Problem is no longer valid (cf. Gabriel and Belzeebub). The fear is gone, at least in all appearances.

Angels don't understand human love, and humans do not understand angelic love. One lesson from Season 2 is that love can be different for everyone and that we should not apply our lenses and our understanding of love to any relationship. Dancing can be fruitless for some angels, and talking can be disastrous for some demons… I wonder now what way of expressing love finally works for angels. Jane Austen’s Persuasion themes start where Emma’s themes ends, in Episode 6, to be continued in Season 3. I hope so.

#good omens #crowley #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #aziraphel and crowley #aziracrow #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #neil gaiman #they are not idiots humans are #meta #good omens meta

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glitterarygetsit · 6 months

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Oh I want to know what the GO roleplay is too!

Oooh, this is me thinking about how Aziraphale and Crowley canonically enjoy it when Crowley rescues Aziraphale, even though Az could get himself out of the situation perfectly well himself. So they're going to roleplay Az being all chained up and helpless and pretty and Crowley sweeping in all dashing and handsome to save him and have weird, multidimensional and probably quite soppy sex about it.

I really want to dig into that canonical kink of theirs, because it's hot and I'm into it too it says so much about them:

Aziraphale is into the idea of being rescued because 1) he would secretly like someone to rescue him from Heaven and all its attendant expectations, and 2) no-one up there cares enough to rescue him if he did get kidnapped or something. Aziraphale is pretending to be part of a big loving family that in reality is indifferent to him at best. He's desperate for someone to show him he matters enough to make an effort for.

Crowley has been forced into a villainous role he never wanted; he never gets to be a hero, except to the demons he despises. He's been hurt repeatedly by both Heaven and Hell, and despite his protestations that he isn't good (and I think he's uncomfortable precisely because he wants it so badly) he ultimately wants to be told he is worthwhile. He wants to do something so momentous that it makes up for whatever it is he did to Fall in the first place. And surely, rescuing an angel--rescuing an angel he loves--must fit the bill? And maybe, just maybe, if he does it right... that angel might love him back.

So I've only really written a few lines about this, but I am constantly rotating it. The teeny-tiniest of snippets under the cut, plus some wing stuff for good measure.

“You look good in distress,” smirks Crowley.

Aziraphale blushes, which is definitely on purpose but also very endearing. He knows what he’s doing, the minx.

Crowley sweeps over and crowds Aziraphale against the table.

He runs his fingers over Aziraphale’s shoulderblades and feels him shudder as Crowley teases the sensitive skin there. Just because they’re in human form doesn’t mean they don’t have wings right now; they’re just temporarily folded into a different dimension, and the invisible crease is smooth and delicate beneath Crowley’s hands. Crowley reaches through the layers of the universe until he feels feathers beneath his fingertips, and Aziraphale gasps.

#wip game

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kaesaaurelia · 6 months

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cut off from god

For @whumptober day 26, using the prompt “You look awful,” and the lyric prompt, "Sometimes I get so tired; I don’t even know myself."

Continued from Day 5, wherein Aziraphale returns to Earth, has a big fight with some archangels, and is horribly injured, Day 8, wherein one of Aziraphale’s angelic allies while Crowley scrambles to save Aziraphale, and they all manage to get away, Day 15, wherein Aziraphale reveals that he’s stolen the Book of Life, and Crowley reveals that one of Aziraphale’s wounds means he’s probably going to Fall, Day 16, wherein Crowley makes peace with a former demonic coworker, treats Aziraphale’s wounds a bit more, and they enjoy each other’s company knowing they might not have much time together, and Day 23, wherein the former Archangel Michael shows up at the bookshop, clearly Falling, and tensions arise between the various celestial beings gathered at the bookshop over what should actually be done with her.

Content warning for bug-related body horror in one scene and some brief but explicit sexual stuff at the end, with some implied food-related kink, which is detailed a bit more in the tags if that's a sensitive issue.

Crowley hurried back up the stairs and to the bedroom. He didn't turn the light on, at first because he knew he could see in the dark just fine. When he went to have a look at Aziraphale, though, he saw the gash just below the bandage was glowing slightly, and he didn't like that at all, nor did he like the rash that seemed to be taking hold around the wound. "Aziraphale," he said softly, "ssorry to wake you up, but --"

He reached out and touched Aziraphale's shoulder, but drew it back immediately. The angel was hot to the touch. "Aziraphale?"

Aziraphale's eyes opened wearily. "Crowley? Is everything all right?"

"No, the other angels are --" No. Fuck them. "Are you all right?"

"I feel awful," said Aziraphale, sitting up. "Stronger than I was, but -- I don't know. Dizzy, and not quite here. Taking up the wrong amount of space. I don't trust my miracles at all like this, could you -- would it be too much to ask... summon up an outfit for me? Something comfortable," he added.

Crowley supposed he meant real clothes; he snapped his fingers and a tidy pile of clothes appeared next to him on the bed. "At least you aren't turning into a giant bug yet," said Crowley, trying for lighthearted and failing.

"What?" Aziraphale asked, startled. He began to get himself dressed, wincing every time he had to bend too much.

"Nothing," said Crowley. "Look, I can help you with --"

"Nothing?" Aziraphale pressed.

"Well." Crowley didn't meet his eye. "Apparently that's what's happening to Michael."

"What? How do you know that?" Aziraphale asked.

"I really can help you get dressed," Crowley pointed out.

"I'd rather do this myself," said Aziraphale. "Got out of the habit of wearing real clothes in Heaven." He stood and despite his objections to Crowley's help, Crowley did hurry to be there if he should lose his footing as he stepped into his trousers. "What's this about Michael?"

"Apparently Vehuel caught her sneaking around outside. She's already tried to get Vehuel to sell us all out in return for... something, and the other Principalities are angry at her because she doesn't want to kill Michael. And Nisroc is --"

"Nisroc? Nisroc is alive?"

Oh. Right. "And has been this whole time, yeah," said Crowley. "And is here. And is really irritating, and has an elaborate revenge scenario --"

"I can imagine they have!" said Aziraphale, sounding startlingly sympathetic to this. "I had wondered if Vehuel helped them faked their death, but then she was just so convincingly upset."

"Yeah," said Crowley, "she was convincingly upset because she was actually pretty upset about Nisroc generally. I, er, didn't tell you because you're a rubbish liar."

"I am," Aziraphale admitted. "It was probably for the best." He fumbled a bit with the buttons on his shirt, and Crowley took over for him just because he could.

He could still feel incredible heat coming off of Aziraphale even through several layers of clothing, but he didn't know how to ask that without making it sound either very worrying or like a come-on, and now was not the time for either. "Also I let Nisroc borrow your kitchen to make pastries," he said.

Aziraphale's eyes lit up. "Really?" His appetite hadn't changed, at least. "I am a bit peckish, now you mention it."

"Yeah. She almost kind of apologized for trying to eat me?" said Crowley. "So I thought, might as well." Aziraphale was tying his bowtie now, carefully, as if he was afraid he'd forgot how to do it, and Crowley resisted the strong urge to take his hands away from the bowtie and just kiss him. Crowley had always treasured those moments when he'd seen Aziraphale not quite put together; there was just something so intimate about it that went beyond having seen Aziraphale naked. But he resisted.

"Do you mind terribly if I hang onto you?" Aziraphale asked.

Crowley didn't mind. Aziraphale could hang onto him forever as far as he was concerned. "Nah, go ahead," he said, and Aziraphale took his arm, as if he was an elegant lady Crowley was leading across a dance floor.

When they emerged into the light, Crowley saw that the skin rash thing had actually made its way up Aziraphale's neck, and it looked an awful lot more like scales. That was reassuring; Crowley was on much firmer footing (so to speak) with scales.

"What?" Aziraphale asked.

"You've got, er..." Crowley put his hand to his neck.

When Aziraphale mirrored him, he grimaced. "Oh dear. Is this -- are these scales?"

Crowley felt something nasty twist in his gut at the horror in Aziraphale's expression. "What's wrong with scales?" he demanded. "I thought you didn't want to be a bug."

"Well, no, I only --" Aziraphale must have realized who he was talking to. "Oh, Crowley, it's not about the scales, it's about -- I just don't want to change into something else. I'm already so tired, and I just..."

Crowley tried not to take it personally, but it was difficult. "Right. Yeah." It wasn't about the scales, he told himself. Anyway, maybe this would be good. He could give Aziraphale... skincare tips? No, this line of thinking wasn't helping him. "Let'sss get you downsstairss to ssee about Michael. I assume you don't want the others to kill her." He'd taken in Gabriel, after all, and Crowley had hated that he'd done that, but he had.

But Aziraphale was silent as they made their way carefully down the spiral staircase.

"Aziraphale?" Crowley asked.

"Well. I don't know where I stand on Michael, exactly," said Aziraphale.

"What about 'oh, it's the right thing, she has nowhere else to go, even though she made a big hole in my chest that almost killed me'?" Crowley asked.

"Well, I'm fine now," said Aziraphale, "except I'm probably turning into a lizard or something. I don't really care about all that, only it's very inconvenient." Crowley was about to protest until he added, "But she did try to kill you, and I can't have that."

"Mngh." He didn't know why he'd made all that effort trying to talk himself out of Aziraphale thinks less of people who just happen to be part reptile through no fault of their own if he was going to be blindsiding Crowley a second or two later with Also he's considering murdering an archangel. Not because she almost killed him, or because he's had to endure meetings with her all this time, but because she tried to kill me. The heat of Aziraphale's hand on his arm reminded him that Aziraphale still needed Crowley to steady himself, and that, paradoxically, went a long way towards steadying Crowley, too.

Things had been tense with the other Principalities, and Aziraphale had had to get a bit more snappish than he'd wanted to, although it did help that he was turning into a lizard or something, because Tzadiqel and Vehuel were clearly caught in a cycle of suspicion and defensiveness, Barah was being extremely judgmental, and Nisroc had some irrelevant criticisms of "that retro baking twink," who she was apparently watching on her mobile, and Aziraphale simply could not be bothered to care all that much about their petty interpersonal troubles now that he knew he was probably going to develop a taste for flies.

(He was a bit curious about the retro baking twink, he had to admit. But he didn't really want to ask in front of Crowley, lest he take it the wrong way)

They did not serve flies at the Ritz and Aziraphale knew of no good wine pairings for them, but he was going to have to find a way to carry himself with dignity regardless, and he was not going to be walking anyone through their hurt feelings when there was a dangerous rogue archangel to worry about. So he thanked Muriel for reminding them that this was his shop and thanked the others for their capture of Michael, and did not ask them their opinions regarding any of the rest of it.

In the backroom, Michael sat incongruously on the couch. He'd slashed her sword diagonally across her face, and below that cut, she looked mostly like herself -- stiff and serious as if she was at a meeting -- but above the cut, her right eye had grown bulbous and segmented and bright green, and the right side of her face stuck out much too far. A lopsided set of antennae stuck out from the very top of her head, and the transformation was slowly but steadily creeping across and down her face. What looked like a mandible pushed uncomfortably out of her human-looking mouth. She glowered at Aziraphale resentfully, as if she had not brought this upon herself to some extent, and as if she was not sitting on his couch on his sufferance.

"You look terrible," he said.

"You don't seem to be doing very well yourself," said Michael as Crowley helped him sit in the armchair. (Crowley perched himself on the arm.) She smiled. "I did get you with my sword, didn't I?"

"You didn't realize?" Aziraphale asked. Because if Aziraphale hadn't realized at first, and Michael herself didn't realize, it seemed very likely that the rest of Heaven didn't know, which might be why they hadn't even tried to attack -- they thought Aziraphale was their Supreme Archangel at full power, not dizzy and growing scales.

"I don't know what you're so pleased about," Michael said. "You're being cut off from God."

"Aren't we all of us, in a way, cut off from God?" Aziraphale asked.

Michael looked from him to Crowley and back. "Well, yes, obviously, but --"

"The Metatron hasn't spoken to Her in centuries at least, I'm certain of it," Aziraphale interrupted. "So --"

"That's not what I'm talking about," said Michael, her one good eye rolling. "Of course God doesn't talk to the Metatron anymore, that's been obvious for ages. What I'm talking about is that I very much doubt you'll survive. I'll be fine, my miracles will come back on once I've got this over with, even if for some stupid reason Heaven doesn't reinstate me, I'll at least have miracles from Satan." She made a face. "But they'll reinstate me. I've put in too much work for them not to."

Crowley snorted. "You keep telling yourself that, that'll definitely help. Maybe try praying."

She ignored him. "But Satan forged his own connection to Creation with the force of his rage and hatred and pride. The sword's meant to kill a rebellious Supreme Archangel. God chose mercy at the last minute by giving Lucifer Hell, and from there he -- I don't know, tantrumed his way into generating his own power. But I doubt you'll get the same consideration from Her, and as irritating as I've always found you, you haven't got the malevolence or the strength of character to pull it off anyway."

"He hasn't got the malevolence?" said Crowley. "Sounds like you've never tried to buy a book here."

"Oh, but I think she's going to," said Aziraphale, although he couldn't be as flippant about it as Crowley clearly felt. He didn't know if she was right about the specifics of Hell, but he didn't particularly feel like forging a connection to Creation with rage and hatred and pride. There was, however, the matter of the Book of Life, which he knew Crowley wasn't going to give back even if Aziraphale died. Especially if he died, really. "Out with it, Michael; what's your proposal for me to give up on everything I believe in?"

She tsked. "You know perfectly well Heaven will reinstate me. It'd be a terrible strategic disadvantage to let me go to Hell. And so, it would behoove you to give me the --" She looked at Crowley. "The purloined item without a fight," said Michael. "And if you don't give it back, I will take it back myself, and I will not pardon you when I am Supreme Archangel."

"It's nice to have ambitions," said Aziraphale, blandly. "Is Vehuel going to steal the book for you, or did you not mention that to her because you no longer trust her to want to help you without the implied threat of total erasure of her existence looming over her?"

The part of Michael's face that wasn't already bright green went sickly green.

"The latter, then," said Aziraphale. He liked that she knew she'd well and truly burnt her bridges. "You won't be getting the book back, and neither will Heaven. For that matter, I don't think Heaven will be getting you back," he said, surprising himself with how angry he was at her. "Largely you're alive because I don't believe in inflicting the same cruelties Heaven has inflicted on its enemies, but also, in a very real way, you're alive because Heaven hasn't attacked us for now, so we can spare people to guard you. But you're going to need to give me a very good reason we shouldn't kill you, because while ideals are very nice to have, they won't save the Earth. I shall give you twenty-four hours. There's a clock over there," he said, nodding at one wall. "You can read whatever you like, but don't harm the books or anyone in the bookshop, or I will not be considering any reasons you come up with. Is that clear?"

Michael's lone mandible worked back and forth in her too-human mouth. "Yes," she said, furiously.

"Then I bid you good evening, Michael. Come on, Crowley," he said, "let's go find a nice midnight snack."

"Really?" Crowley asked, amused, as they left Michael to her own devices.

"I nearly died today," said Aziraphale. "It really does work up an appetite."

Aziraphale explained in brief to the bickering angels that he would be ready to make a decision in about a day. A few of the angels who'd been arguing for Michael's murder looked a bit relieved, and Aziraphale thought uncharitably that, while they wanted Michael not to be alive anymore, they didn't want to be involved in the deed itself.

Nisroc tried to sell him on her horror film idea, but Aziraphale changed the subject and asked if it would be all right for him to eat some of the pastries she'd made earlier. "Go wild," she said with a shrug, and Aziraphale resolved to.

Crowley was an absolute dear for helping him manage all these stairs both up and down. "Do you think I ought to have had a lift installed?" he asked Crowley.

"I think you ought to have stairs that are a bit more substantial," said Crowley, "so we could walk properly side by side on them, and not, say, stairs that are clearly meant for one person to scamper a few steps down in his little reading glasses and his little sleeping cap and shout 'We're closed!' at the front door before going back upstairs to keep reading,"

"I can't imagine who you could be accusing of such poorly thought-out interior design choices," said Aziraphale, squeezing his arm fondly.

Crowley watched fondly as Aziraphale ate his way carefully, slice by slice, through an entire chocolate cake, and with great enjoyment while Aziraphale worked his way through a tray of custard tarts, licking his fingers off and telling himself he would have just one more until they were all gone. By the time he got to the brownies, though, Crowley was a little concerned, because Aziraphale didn't seem to be enjoying this as much as he usually did. "Angel," he asked, "is everything all right?"

"What?" Aziraphale had been looking for something to cut a sort of iced lemon cake with. "Yes, everything's fine, I'm just -- where is --"

"You know you don't have to have perfect table manners on my account, right?" said Crowley.

Aziraphale looked at him as though he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't. "Oh, but that's not -- I mean. It's nice, isn't it, to savor something?"

"Yeah, but you're not doing that either," said Crowley. "You're holding yourself back and looking for the next thing."

Aziraphale went a blotchy pink under the white-gold scales creeping up the side of his neck and face. Were there more of them now? Crowley didn't remember. "I. Well. Mm. I'm a bit -- I'm actually -- I think I might be hungry?"

"Well, then you probably ought to eat," said Crowley. He felt oddly guilty about saying it, but Aziraphale was turning into, if not a lizard, a Something Else, and between that and what Michael had said about Lucifer... "Look, I should probably have told you earlier... your skin is hot to the touch, and um --"

"What?" Aziraphale asked.

"It's not bad, it's just... unusual," said Crowley. "A bit startling at first. And that sword wound was glowing when I got you out of bed. And -- look, maybe you... maybe you need this?"

"What? Food?" Aziraphale looked around, and then, apparently deciding he could talk while he ate, grabbed his plate and went over to the tray of baklava, where he helped himself to several little pieces. "You mean, because of the --" He gestured at himself.

"Maybe?" Crowley swallowed, watching as Aziraphale devoured the baklava without particularly savoring it. He should probably come clean about this. "Mnh. Thing is. I. Like watching you eat? Sso. I have a bit of an ulterior motive here."

Aziraphale had been licking his fingers off, but he stopped abruptly and looked up. There it was. He'd ruined it. "What do you mean, you like watching me eat?"

"You jusst. It'ss jussst. It'ss very... you know what, never mind, I can -- I can leave you alone while you -- but you probably ought to, if you're hungry..." No, that sounded bad, that sounded like he was going to go off and masturbate furiously. Which he might, actually.

"No, no, I just wanted to know -- do you mean, er. Do you mean you don't mind that I kept forgetting to offer you a bit of the cake until it was all gone, or do you mean you like that I have what could be... very loosely defined as a hobby, or do you mean. Ah. How do I put this?"

"I mean I get off to it," Crowley blurted out, staring very hard at the designs on the napoleons and not at Aziraphale. "Have done for, um. Well. Ssince. The ox at Job's -- well not technically ssince then but -- you know -- when we weren't. Ah. Together in a room with several small lizards."

"Really," said Aziraphale. Crowley dared to look back at him, and saw that he was having another one of those baklava. "Mm." He swallowed. "How, er. How would you like it if we took some of this back to the bedroom?"

Crowley looked around at the panoply of sweets before them. "Only if you like," he said. "Er. Which things did you want?"

It was Aziraphale's turn to look dismayed. "I really am hungry, I think. And I might as well -- Nisroc said --"

"All of them?" Crowley heard himself suggest. It was a terrible suggestion. Crowley would never survive.

"Why not?" said Aziraphale. "I'll let you decide."

"You -- you really don't mind?" Crowley asked, feeling a bit lightheaded.

Aziraphale finished the last baklava on his plate, and began gathering up the crumbs methodically. "Why should I? Besides, I haven't just worked up an appetite for food," he said.

"Mph. Yeah. That'sss. Good point." With a desperate, all-encompassing swing of his arm, Crowley miracled all the sweets into Aziraphale's bedroom.

Aziraphale put the plate down, licked his fingers off very deliberately, then came around the counter, leaning on it for balance until he reached Crowley. He kissed Crowley very soundly, tasting of honey and pastry. The heat of his mouth -- of his whole body, once he put his arms around Crowley to pull him closer -- was too much at first, and then he sank into it like a bath.

Although most baths didn't grab your arse, and Aziraphale definitely did. Crowley had to actively resist the urge to push him up against the newly-cleared counter and fuck him. "Bedroom?" he suggested, pulling away very slightly.

"Yes, I think so," said Aziraphale.

They did manage to get back to the bedroom, but the door had barely shut before Aziraphale was pushing Crowley against the wall and kneeling to suck his cock, and that rather set the trend for the rest of the night.

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dietraumerei · 9 months

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episode three. none of these are in any way useful thoughts I just like giggling at myself

I've known Murial for about 45 seconds and if anything happened to her I'd kill myself and everyone else

Aziraphale drives exactly how I *want* to drive, love it

Confidential Diaries puts me in mind of mixed-up files. I am certain it's a coincidence, but a lovely one.

oh ffs. I'm sorry but I can't see a gd thing, please shoot day for night PLEASE I am BEGGING. just get those old blue light filters.

honestly what makes Crowley Good is that he never dropped Aziraphale somewhere where he'd land in sewage, he really is irritating as hell in the flashback.

ooooh, i have questions about that landscape

look I am ALWAYS here for a good David Tennant Doctor joke. never gets old and I mean that

hm. Aziraphale is letting himself be Actually Good instead of...well, no, I don't want to let him off the hook. Heavenly Righteous, perhaps. The gentle cradling of the preserved tumor vs self-righteousness and lecturing. I am a little surprised it is happening this late, but then he is very good at two steps forward, two steps back.

Little Detective Aziraphale! modern-day Peter Falk he is

i do not do great with cringe humor this is painful to watch (ok listen to) was...was that a Dragnet impersonation? or just general American Gumshoe??

I would have expected Aziraphale to be a *little* more...sensitive to detail? less broad strokes? I feel strongly that I am learning a lot more about how to characterize this angel and who he was for most of time.

wait no no I'm only required to listen to that abject dirge during rugby season I REFUSE

is ...this a little wee free men nod??

this is the weirdest goddamn episode but I think 'pretendy good' vs 'properly good' is the unsubtle point I look forward to writing 8947 fics with this as the theme

they're so awfully married

Aziraphale absolutely knows what Grindr is. No I don't know why but I insist that this is so

aw, Crowley, you tried <3

oh, Crowley.

No but that was a really, really weird episode and not because suddenly the writing is heavy-handed it's just...weird.

#good omens season 2 #good omens season 2 spoilers #die traumerei liveblog

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cannebady · 3 years

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An obligatory Good Omens New Year’s Eve ficlet. Enjoy!

Here on AO3!

I realized that I need you, and I wondered if I could come home

It ended up bring a surprise visit. With the lockdowns continuing through most of the year, Aziraphale had been stubbornly dedicated to leading by example and had refused Crowley on several occasions when he’d offered to keep him company. It was the right decision, Crowley supposed. While neither angel nor demon could get sick or transmit it to others, humans were always looking for a loophole to skirt the rules and, although Crowley would usually go out of his way to encourage them, this was starting to remind him all too much of his least favorite centuries so he didn’t push too hard.

The other benefit, was that the distance pushed Aziraphale to actually use the mobile Crowley had bought him months before all hell (side eye heavily implied) broke loose, which allowed them to communicate almost constantly. As it turns out, alcohol and texting really can be revealing and they’d continued to move, albeit at a glacial pace, towards something more.

This is all, however, a moot point because Crowley woke up on the 31st of December and immediately thought, “Ah, fuck it.” He donned his mask (not that he needs it, but it sets a good example and is a solid Look™) and drove on over to Soho to surprise an angel.

When he knocked at the bookshop door, he could already feel the air of displeasure coming from inside. He smirked, only visible by the crinkling at the corner of one eye. Lockdowns had allowed Aziraphale’s already shoddy business hours to become almost nonexistent, something the angel had nearly unbridled joy for.

When the door opened, he had to rein in actual tears of relief. He knew he missed Aziraphale something fierce, but actually seeing him made the wreck of Crowley’s heart swell and squeeze in a way he wasn’t used to.

Donning a pearlescent white mask that was very likely not of this world in origin, storm blue eyes connected with his and Crowley was warmed through to see the same, lovely, overwhelmed feeling mirrored back to him.

“My dear,” Aziraphale had whispered, looking Crowley over, “what are you doing here? It isn’t safe!”

Crowley, tired of waiting on the step while they goggled at each other, pushed inside while Aziraphale closed the door, locking it for good measure. “Well hello to you too, angel. Long time, no see.”

He snapped his fingers to place his mask in a pocket universe (he’s a bit embarrassed to admit that his earthly pockets wouldn’t exactly hold much more than his fingertips) and took care of Aziraphale’s as well.

“Crowley, we discussed this! I miss you terribly, of course I do, but we can’t just go breaking the rules willy-nilly!”

A year ago Crowley would’ve rolled his eyes at “willy-nilly”, but right now? Well, right now he’s so entranced he can’t breathe, never mind scoff.

“Angel-” He breaks off because there’s so much he wants to say, but Aziraphale is beautiful. He’s known it since Eden, but this is the longest they’ve gone without seeing each other in quite some time and he’s obsessing over the few extra inches of white blonde curls, not to mention the couple of extra inches on well-fed hips (courtesy of quarantine baking and fewer walks in parks, and for that Crowley would just like to say thank you), that are both likely to send Crowley into hysterics if he thinks about them too long.

“M’sorry angel, I just-” he sighs, “I know it’s wrong I just couldn’t wait longer. I can go, if you’d like.” He looks down, he’s not as sure that Aziraphale will kick him out as he once had been, but that doesn’t mean that he wants to watch it happen.

What he misses, is the very obvious once-over Aziraphale gives to his messy, much longer, curls and the longing look that speaks to ages of desire to cross those last few feet between them.

“Nonsense, my dear. You’re right, we cannot make this worse and you took precautions.” Crowley lifts his eyes to meet Aziraphale’s and is met with a brilliant smile. “And, of course, I am so happy to see you dearest.”

Dearest. Aziraphale called him that sometimes via text but this is the first time he’d heard it out loud. He was more attached to it than he’d like to examine.

“Well, in that case, I believe the humans have a tradition on this day that involves both day drinking and regular drinking.” He miracles a few choice vintages and a lovely bottle of Whispering Angel, because he’s still an arsehole sometimes, onto the table in the back room.

“If it’s tradition I suppose we must.” Aziraphale says with a smirk that’s not angelic at all.

Perhaps, Crowley thinks as Aziraphale leads him back to the squashy, infernally comfortable couch in the back room, this year may just end better than it started.

It’s been hours. They made it through Crowley’s initial bottles and have moved on decidedly to Aziraphale’s own, not inconsiderable, reserves. They’re encroaching on drunken territory they haven’t traversed since Armageddon first fell on their radar but this time, it’s so much better.

They’re laughing wildly while Aziraphale recounts, with requisite demonstrations, how he learned the gavotte and Crowley’s laughing so hard that his stomach hurts. He’s warm, and they’re safe together, and Aziraphale has a lovely blush high on his cheeks and Crowley’s sure he has the same, and he can’t remember being this happy for a long, long time.

“And, and-,” the angel trails off for a moment, “I couldn’t quite remember which way to turn,” he pantomimes turning in a graceless circle, “so I just, well, I rather tumbled directly into a bookshelf and realized I’d imbibed a bit too much.”

He looks at Crowley pointedly while he tries to smother a cackle. “You know, it’s not entirely dissimilar to now. I fear I’m quite completely rat-arsed.”

Crowley’s control breaks and he laughs loud and long while Aziraphale blushes more and then joins him, because they’re both completely arseholed and they have been during every century since the Beginning.

A glance at the clock shows it’s only a short time until the clock ticks over into the next year and a pit forms in Crowley’s stomach. He doesn’t want to lose this easy camaraderie and the soft love he’s feeling (it is love, he’s known it for a long time, and has accepted it for long enough) and he isn’t sure if he’ll be permitted to stay. There’s also a part of him that, for several decades now, has dreamed about employing another human tradition surrounding New Year’s Eve, but he’s even less sure of its welcome.

Aziraphale catches his eyeline and looks towards the old grandfather clock, obviously seeing the change is Crowley’s bright disposition.

“Not long now, it would seem.” He says quietly.

“Not long at all and we’ll be singing Auld Lang Syne and bidd-”, Crowley stops, his throat choking up.

“And what, dear?” Aziraphale thinks he knows where this was headed. Thinks he knows that the complicated string of emotions is on Crowley’s beloved face. He thinks he might just see everything he wants in arms reach of taking.

Crowley’s eyes are fully yellow, goldenrod and gorgeous, dark with drink or something more when he looks up to meet Aziraphale’s own. “I-, angel. Would I, ngk, what would you say if I stayed for a bit? Kept you company?”

He drops his head down again. Aziraphale hates that he looks like he’s bracing for bad news. Perhaps he has not done as well as he thought in letting Crowley know that the door was wide open now. Frankly off its hinges. Perhaps it’s time for extraordinary measures.He closes the distance between them, sitting next to the demon on the couch.

“Dearest, I think I’d like nothing more.” He reaches out and cups Crowley’s sharp jaw, tilting his head so that he can look into those stunning eyes again. He runs his thumb along his cheekbone and hears the sharp inhale.

This is the most skin-to-skin contact they’ve had since the Roman baths (there was an awkward side hug at one point that Crowley thought may actually discorporate him). But now, the simple contact of those soft, plump fingers on his jaw and his cheek are about to send him to his maker.

“Angel,” he reaches up and lays his hand over Aziraphale’s. Little to their knowledge, they’ve begun a countdown all their own. “are you sure?”

“I’m positive darling. Let me show you.” Aziraphale responds, allowing his thump to dip and run along Crowley’s luscious bottom lip. “Can I show you?”

“Please, angel”, Crowley nearly sobs and kind, giving, gracious Aziraphale takes a brief inhale of his own before laying his lips against the demon’s.

Crowley’s never really done this before. Sure there were humans here and there that thought to lay one on him, but he’s never taken the time to think about it. Why are lips so bloody sensitive? He thinks before he stops possessing higher order functioning and has only a mind to get Aziraphale closer, right the fuck now.

He reaches out and drags his hands down Aziraphale’s arms (both angelic hands now buried in his hair), delighting at the honest to God whimper he gets in response, and lets one hand tangle in ice blonde curls longer than he’s ever seen them, and lets the other drift from shoulder to waist, and finally to land on an ample hip that fits so perfectly into his hand that he thinks he might cry.

Their lips refuse to part and before long it’s gone from gently exploratory, to open and hot, tongues running along lips, tangling together, allowing them to taste each other for the first time.

They break apart briefly, speaking so close that each word is a sweet caress on the other’s lips; a placeholder while they work out their thoughts.

Aziraphale takes it upon himself to take the plunge here too, “I love you. I have loved you for so long that I don’t know what it is not to love you. I fear I was quiet for too long, but I will no longer abide. I will tell you I love you each time I think about how much I love you, until you’re sick to death of hearing it.”

While breathing is an option for both, Crowley is nearly hyperventilating. He thought, perhaps, Aziraphale may think of trying something with him. May even want to try out some more, erm, intimate, acts with him as the angel is always in such a rage for pleasure. But he never guessed that the haunting, creation-long devotion he felt would be reciprocated in the same way.

“Oh angel, I love you. I met you on the wall of Eden and thought ‘Oh, what’s that in my chest?’ and realized they didn’t take my heart when I Fell. I’m yours, if you’ll have me, if you’ll be mine as well.”

“Dearest, I’ve been yours for some time now.” And then words really aren’t important any more as Crowley lunges, pushing Aziraphale back into the squashy couch and running his hands over his coveted softness while angelic hands map his neck and his back and, Christ, his arse.

While the world nervously looks to a new year for peace and solice, two celestial beings have found it, at long last, right at home.

#Good omens #good omens fic #ineffable husbands #ineffable husbands fic #good omens ficlet #crowley #aziraphale #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #new year's eve fic #sayonara 2020

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ingravinoveritas · 4 years

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I'm the twitter anon. You're absolutely right. I became a fan of Michael last year, during GO press. He was so happy and funny, especially around David and I totally fell in love with him and David. Now he makes me sad and I'm worried about him. As you said, he looks depressed and tired, his smile doesn't reach his eyes anymore. I don't know what's going on in his private life, but it must be something serious.

Hello Twitter Anon. I’m glad to hear from you again.

I have to tell you that I struggled with writing a response to your query from yesterday, wanting to provide a balanced perspective while trying to make sense of this entire situation (as I think many folks are). I do have some more thoughts that I’d like to offer about everything, but with the following clarification:

My intention with all of this is not, nor ever was, to bash Michael. I became a fan of his for the same reasons many of us did: His passion, his humor, his kindness, his dedication to playing Aziraphale and to supporting the fandom and especially fan works, and his commitment to countless social causes. I am still a fan of Michael’s, and I am not ashamed of being one. I believe he has a big heart and truly does care about people and has tried to make a difference in the lives of others in whatever way he can.

But I also believe that you can be a fan of someone and still criticize them.

Again, to clarify: There is very much a line between criticizing someone and attacking them, and I know there was a whole heck of a lot of the latter happening on Twitter. I think that what Michael reacted to was comments attacking him and his family--in particular his daughter Lily, as I did see one very disgusting specific comment about her on the petition post. I think that made him start swinging, and that he only read the first half of that BLM person’s tweet before hitting the block button. I think it really was an unfortunate misunderstanding that has been blown wildly out of proportion ever since.

I also think that canceling or blindly praising him is not the solution to this.

On the surface, it may seem like canceling and blindly praising someone are two completely different concepts, but there is one thing that they have in common: They both stop discussion from happening. When you say that someone is perfect and a “king” and can do nothing wrong, there’s no way to have a discussion. When you say someone is an asshole and horrible and bad, it also shuts down discussion, and makes people afraid to say what they feel.

What I said yesterday about nuance applies as much to the fans as it does to Michael. It means looking at him without rose-colored glasses on, acknowledging that he has done many wonderful things but also made some mistakes, and that all of the good he’s done doesn’t make him immune to the consequences of those mistakes. It means knowing that he is a human being who deserves grace, but without absolution.

To touch on the last sentence of your ask (”I don’t know what’s going on in his private life”), that is perhaps the most important thing to bear in mind: That none of us actually, truly know what Michael’s life is like. We only know the very small piece, the sliver he shares with us on Twitter. But I agree with you that it seems to be serious, because he is so sensitive and impulsive at the moment, and it is spilling over into Twitter and having serious consequences. I’ve seen people tweet that they want to joke with him but are afraid to do so, because of not knowing what will set Michael off. And no matter how you look at it, that is an unhealthy emotional dynamic to be part of--both for the fans, and for him.

Anyway, I’ve probably rambled on enough about all this, and my heart is still feeling a bit heavy with it, so I think I’ll try to just reblog some lovely gifs and clips from the GO press tour, to remember happier times. Thanks for writing in, Anon, and I hope you’re doing okay. x

#anonymous #reply post #michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #i am still a fan of Michael's and I still adore him #but recent events have been A Lot #trying to provide a balanced perspective #because going to extremes on either side is not the answer #the petition was one thing but yesterday was something else entirely #fandom woes #thoughts #discourse

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topaziraphale · 3 years

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I am never one to shame people for their preferences but I just find it so incredibly boring that "sexy dominant demon" made its way into this fandom. I don't know, I just feel like reducing Crowley to the very thing that he tries so hard to embody is not it. His struggle with vulnerability and wanting to be taken care of but cannot let people in is a big part of his character, and I love when fanfics or art delves into that. This is just my take, though.

I agree. I try not to yuck other people's yums, mostly because fandom and headcanons are just for fun and, at the end of the day, nothing will change what's already there in the text. Headcanons are there for fun, and honestly, it really is fun to do. That's why we're all here, after all! Who am I to tell someone what to think?

But while I won’t demand anyone think the way I do (i mean, who does that?), that doesn't really stop me from personally getting bored and even annoyed when a fic makes Crowley only ever the mean-dark-sexy-evil demon he dresses himself up to be. Or when he's way too extremely-ultra-soft-and-sensitive and can't do anything without Aziraphale and needs his love in order to function. I, myself, don’t see the fun in these, for more reasons other than “That’s not how he would act, wtf?”

This, uh, ended up getting really wordy because I have no self control and I never had buddies to rant about this meta to, so this is my outlet. The rest of it is under a cut. I’m apologizing in advance. You definitely weren’t expecting this much of a response, I reckon.

TL;DR - I don’t like reductive headcanons for Crowley because they undermine the entire point for his character existing in the first place and it therefore makes him boring.

Before I get into it, I can't bring up the purpose of Crowley as a character without also including Aziraphale. Crowley, as he stands right now, would arguably be equally as pointless without Aziraphale there with him. And the same goes vice-versa. They complete each other - they were originally one character that got split into two, after all.

The story of Good Omens is commentating on the nature of human morality. Morality, as we know, can be gray, and messy, and confusing. Sometimes it really depends on how you look at it. What one person will see as evil, another will see as righteous. That’s just how humans are. And the entire concept of Morality cannot exist without being prefaced with the binary that is Good and Evil. That’s where Aziraphale and Crowley come in. They’re basically a giant metaphor for all that.

At the end of the day, they’re just a fun, interesting way to visualize the nature of human morality. They’re here to help build one of the main themes in the story. Their existence as an angel and a demon symbolize the Good and Evil binary, but it is their choices and actions that alienate them from the other angels and demons and thus make them more complex as characters, that truly completes the entire metaphor for morality.

This is probably why they’re not humans. The message with them wouldn’t be as unique if they were. Making them an angel and demon reinforces the symbolism and removes the gray bias that making them human would cause.

That’s why they’re interesting enough to exist in this story as main characters despite doing virtually almost nothing to really impact the chain of events.

My point is, Aziraphale and Crowley cannot represent morality in this special way if they’re characterized to be just like any other demon or angel.

If they’re characterized that way, then they aren’t serving the purpose they were created for. And if they can’t do that, then what’s the point of having them? It’s not like they have many actions that directly impact a major aspect of the storyline - and the ones they do have could probably be worked around. At that point, they’re just here for the aesthetic. That doesn’t make them interesting enough to be main characters.

That’s why I tend to not like those types of headcanons that simply reduce both Aziraphale and Crowley into exactly what they’re expected to be. Crowley can’t be as interesting as he is if he can’t be the symbol he was created to be. He can’t be that symbol that if he isn’t An Angel who did not so much Fall as Saunter Vaguely Downwards. He is interesting BECAUSE you expect him to be a suave, sexy, silver-tongued handsome devil that is truly evil - but in reality, he’s actually a really nice person, has a soft spot for humanity, and is kinda dorky at times.

Headcanons that make him a stereotypical mean sexy demon, or the ones that overdo his softness and vulnerability disturb the balance that he’s got going on. He’s practically someone else at that point. Crowley in canon part of a really interesting set up and dynamic - to change that dynamic by changing his personality into something that ultimately works against the key components that make it work in the first place simply makes him more boring of a character. That’s why I have a really tough time getting into those particular fanon interpretations of him over the ones that are closer to canon.

#derpy answers #crowley #aziraphale #good omens #good GOD IN HEAVEN THIS IS A LONG RESPONSE #anon im sorry for making you read an entire freakin essay if you even read this far #hope it was at least a tiny bit interesting?#either way I got my feelings out there so now I have a post to link back to #anonymous #derpy analyses #<- starting a new tag for when i go overboard with meta ig #also i realized as i was typing this that this is probably why i'm so picky with human aus #as well as the fics with dark!crowley or dark!aziraphale #welp

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madquerade · 3 years

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In Questo Paradiso ne Scopra il Nuovo Dì (10/10)

Rating: m Ineffable Wives (female Crowley x Aziraphale) Major Character Death, tw: illness, blood Human AU, angst, hurt/comfort, smut, just a lil fluff but like… You can read it on Ao3 @ sherwhotreksings Chapter: one two three four five six seven eight nine ten

Paris. 1851. She’s not sure if she’s real or imaginary, the girl sitting on a chair across from her bed. She sees her though: dark hair, golden brown eyes, dressed in white, Azira’s sister. She can’t be sure anything is real at this point. The only thing she knows for sure is that she’s home now and she’s dying. ~ This is just La Traviata but with the wives. I’m sorry. Antonia is a Parisian courtesan caught up in the intricacies of French society until a young madame, Azira, disrupts her whole world.

Chapter 4

A/N: Here we go! The final chapter! Thank you for sticking with the fic and I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have.

Antonia slips in and out of sleep. It seems like she hasn’t gotten a proper night’s sleep in weeks. The covers around Antonia provide little warmth for her cold body. On top of that, her skin has turned sensitive and even the silk feels rough and scratches her body uncomfortably. She sighs weakly and uses what strength she has to sit up. So this is what her miserable life has been leading to. Fitting that she’ll go out spotted with blood and stripped of love. A life lived for pleasure will only lead to unhappiness. Antonia squeezes her eyes shut, trying to block out her surroundings. They only remind her of pain. At least she managed to do one thing right with her life. She saved Azira’s sister.

Antonia opens her eyes. Azira’s sister stands opposite her in the room. Her dark hair falls gracefully around her shoulders, adorned with flowers and a white veil. Her golden brown eyes sparkle as she slowly glides parallel to Antonia’s bed. The wedding dress she’s wearing brushes the floor and trails behind her as she walks ever closer to her destiny. An invisible wind stirs the hem of her veil and plays in her hair. Antonia tracks her with her eyes. Azira’s sister floats the length of the room and disappears from sight.

Antonia leans forward, trying to catch another glimpse of the girl out of her field of vision, but the doctor enters and chides her for exerting herself. She reluctantly lies back against the pillows. Marceline pulls up a chair to Antonia’s bed side for the doctor. He sits down and thanks Marceline while pulling out his stethoscope. He listens to her heart and lungs, having her lean forward at his instruction. Antonia can’t imagine he’s hearing much over the dark crackle of her breathing. She has to fight for each breath now. It’s an uphill battle and one that she knows she’s losing. The doctor leans over to Marceline, hovering nervously nearby, and whispers something. If Antonia was stronger, she’d try to eavesdrop, but that would take too much energy.

“How am I doing?” Antonia offers a feeble smile, voice barely above a whisper.

He gives her a reassuring pat on the arm. “You’ll make a full recovery, ma cherie.” He says it with such conviction, but his facial expression betrays him, twisted into a concerned frown.

It’s okay. She knows he’s lying anyway. She’s nearing her final chapter.

The doctor pulls Marceline aside to another room, presumably to offer her advice on how to care for her in her final hours. Antonia reaches under her pillow, retrieving the letter delivered to her almost two weeks ago from Monsieur Donadieu. Though her hope has long since faded, it brings her a small comfort. She rereads it once more, fingers taking care to not rip the paper at the worn creases.

Madame Crowley,

You kept your promise, so I will keep mine. The duel has taken place! The Baron was wounded, but is recovering. Azira was not harmed.

Her heart flutters at those words every time she reads them. Even though she could not offer her the life she desperately wanted, Antonia was not the cause of losing that chance all together. One day Azira will be able to reach her destiny.

Azira, heartbroken by your act, has gone abroad. I’ll admit I was not planning on revealing your sacrifice, but I was moved by your letters.

Antonia spent quite some time thinking about what letters Gabriel meant. The conclusion she landed on was that Marceline found her unsent letters to Azira and mailed them herself, otherwise a letter fairy delivered them against her wishes.

I myself wrote to her as soon as I made my decision. She will return to ask your pardon. Take care of yourself. You deserve a happier future.

Gabriel Donadieu

Antonia holds back a sob. It’s too late, now. She’s waited too long and now she’ll die before she gets here. She throws back the covers, a sudden determination to keep her strength flooding her veins. She’ll survive long enough for Azira to arrive.

Shakily she puts her feet on the floor, testing her legs ability to hold her weight before standing. All seems right for the moment, so she chances it, and manages to walk to her vanity. She picks up the brush and messily runs it through her hair before picking up the mirror.

“Ah! How I’ve changed,” Antonia exclaims. The person looking back at her is a stranger, pale and weary. Her bright fiery hair has dulled. Her skin is grey and so dry it looks as if she might shed and become a snake. The only spot of color is her lips, but even they are unnaturally dark, stained red from the blood she’s been coughing up. She can feel her breathing get heavier and knows if she doesn’t retreat soon, she’ll have a coughing fit.

She slams the mirror down onto her vanity. “Adieu, sweet dreams of the past, with this disease every hope is dead!” Antonia turns back to her bed, taking small hesitant steps. Her lungs feel like they’re bursting, too late to stop her cough. She doubles over as she reaches the bed, one hand on the mattress to keep her up. Her cough is rough and hacking. She’s given up on using a handkerchief to contain the blood, it just soaks through to her hand anyway.

“Smile upon the woman who has strayed,” Antonia pleads with the air and whoever is listening, tears mingling with the blood on her lips. “No cross nor name will mark my bones when I’m gone.”

Marceline overhears her cries and rushes into the bedroom. “Merde! Antonia! What are you doing?” She grabs Antonia’s arms and urges her into bed.

Antonia tries to wave her off, but it doesn’t work. “I just wanted a change of pace and some air. This bed is suffocating.”

Marceline helps Antonia get situated in bed again, fluffing her pillows, and helps her sit up. “Let me open the window for you, but just for a moment. I don’t want you catching a chill.”

The sounds of outside come filtering in, muffled by the thick curtains, cheers and laughter.

“Is today a holiday?” Antonia stretches, trying to see out the window where Marceline is pulling the curtain back.

“All of Paris is going mad. It’s Carnival today.” Marceline opens the window more and leans out, examining the crowd gathering in the streets in front of their residence. “The parade will be happening any moment-” Marceline squeaks out a noise of alarm and quickly closes the window, pulling the curtains tight. “Madame, you must not get excited. I want to prepare you…”

Antonia’s heart speeds up. There’s only one reason Marceline would request she not get excited.

Footsteps echo down the hallway, getting louder as the visitor approaches. Azira appears in the doorway to the bedroom and freezes there, taking in Antonia’s state.

“Azira!” Antonia cries, trying to read her body language. She can’t tell if Azira is happy to see her.

Azira rushes to her side and scoops her into her arms. It feels like her hands are everywhere; on her hips, her back, her sides, her face. Azira peppers kisses all over her face and hair. “Antonia, mon amour, please forgive me. The fault was all mine- I know everything now. My father told me what he made you do. I felt like I was dying away from you.”

Antonia closes her eyes, focusing on keeping calm. “I felt the same, but it’s proof grief can’t kill because you’ve found me alive.”

Azira slides under the covers, helping Antonia adjust until she’s in her lap and laying back against her chest. “Nothing will be able to take you from my arms now, not man, nor demon, or angel.” She smooths the hair back from Antonia’s face. “We’ll escape Paris and live in the country again. We’ll make up for our heartache, and your health will come back again. You’re the light of my life and the future will shine upon us.”

Antonia is lulled into the daydream by the steady beat of Azira’s heart. “We’ll leave Paris,” Antonia echos. They can do this. They can be happy together finally. Her illness doesn’t have to stop them. Now that Azira is back she can fight it. She pushes herself up from Azira. “Azira, please, let’s go to the church.” She stands, fighting her wobbling legs.

“You’re so pale-” Azira gasps, but Antonia cuts her off.

Antonia sways, grasping her chest. “-It’s nothing! I’m just overjoyed.”

Her legs give out from under her and Azira jumps to her feet, catching her heavily. “Mon Dieu! Antonia!” Azira holds her weight completely and Antonia’s head tips forward limply against her chest.

Antonia takes a ragged breath. She breathes but she’s not getting any air. Her illness’ end feels near. This can’t be how she ends. This can’t be it. She just got her love back. The air around her feels thick and humid though it’s the beginning of January.

Antonia’s voice comes out like a wisp of her former self, “It’s only my illness, just a moment of weakness. I’m better now. See I’m smiling.” She attempts a smile, but it falls only a second later. “Marceline, get my dress.” She motions towards the dress hanging on the door.

“Now? Wait!” Azira tries to lower Antonia back to the bed, but she struggles and breaks free of Azira’s arms.

“No! I want to go out.” Overcome by the manic fervor of her creeping reality, she rushes to the dress herself. She manages to pull it down from the hanger, letting the weight of the material and gravity do most of the work, but the material is too heavy for her to hoist over her head, and she doesn’t have the balance to step into it. “I cannot!” Antonia breaks down sobbing.

Azira collects her back into her arms, letting the dress fall to the floor in a heap. “Marceline, call the doctor!”

Marceline rushes out of the room to send word.

Antonia cries into Azira’s arms, still standing for the moment. In between her gasps she calls out to Marceline hoping she’ll hear her, “Tell the doctor that Azira has come back to her love. Tell him I want to live again!” She slides out of Azira’s arms, sinking to her knees not unlike the dress next to them. “If your return has not saved my life, then nothing on Earth can save me!”

Azira holds her in her arms, letting her scream.

“To die now, when I might have at last stopped my weeping!” It’s Antonia’s turn to rage. Her fingernails bite into the center of her palms as she squeezes her fists shut. “I kept my love alive in vain!” She smacks the floor with her fists and throws back her head, letting out a scream that would break the hearts of anyone who heard.

Azira tries to reassure her, a look of abject terror on her face. “My breath of life, my pulse, you must stay calm! My tears flow with your’s, but we must now more than ever keep heart.”

Antonia looks up and sees that Azira is indeed also crying. However, her words do nothing to steady her heart. She’s losing control. Her chest heaves with each cry. If her lungs were healed she would be hyperventilating by now.

“My Antonia, be calm! Your grief is killing me! Please, be calm!” Azira’s own panic increases. She wraps her arms tighter around Antonia, hugging her with enough pressure to ground her.

Antonia calms after a few moments and Azira picks her up and carries her back to her bed. With her hair splayed out around her like a halo, she looks like a tragic painting. Her tears have left trails that glitter against her sickly skin in the dusky light. The doctor comes in, without his bag, followed by Marceline. Antonia smiles up at him. “See? I’m dying in the arms of the only dear one I have.”

The doctor shushes her and takes a handkerchief from Marceline, dabbing at her forehead. He passes it off to Azira, who wipes at her salty chest and cleans the blood from around her mouth. The doctor instructs Marceline to do something, and reprimands Antonia, probably for leaving the bed, but she isn’t listening anymore. Antonia leans over to her bedside table and pulls out a locket.

“Take my portrait of days gone by.” Antonia holds it out to Azira. “Let it remind you of the woman who loved you.”

Azira’s eyes flash and she pushes Antonia’s hand away. “No! You must live my darling!”

Antonia gasps and coughs up blood, splattering all over the sheets and her nightgown. Her lungs ache and burn, but she must survive the hellfire before she’s granted the peace she so desires.

“Please... “ Antonia doesn’t catch her breath this time, instead taking in small gasps of air. “...take it.”

Azira’s hand closes around Antonia’s slipping the locket into her hand.

“Remember me when I’m among the spirits.” Antonia relaxes into the pillow, closing her eyes.

If only she had more time with Azira, but there isn’t anymore time. The clock has struck midnight and it’s time for her to go to bed.

“Please, God, don’t take her from me!” Azira leans forward and sobs into Antonia’s lap.

Marceline carefully places her hand on Azira’s shoulder. “God calls her to her side.”

“Please live…” Azira begs Antonia taking both her hands in her own, “or a single casket will return both you and me to the soil of our Earth.”

As if through some magic, or a miracle, perhaps from love itself, Antonia sits up. “My palms! The spasms have ceased!” She holds her arms out in front of her, amazed at the improvement. “My energy! My life is back!” Antonia gets to her knees on the bed. “We can get married, Azira!”

The doctor glances to Azira, who is looking at him apprehensively. A single shake of his head is all she needs to know. Azira climbs onto the bed next to Antonia and wraps her arms around her love. Antonia takes one final deep breath and slumps back in Azira’s arms.

The room is silent save for the singing of Parisians outside.

Make way for the quadruped Queen of the festival, Wearing her crown of flowers and vine leaves.

Make way for the tamest of all who wear horns, greet her with music of harp and flute.

People of Paris, open the path to the heroic Queen. Light-hearted maidens, and frolicking lads, pay her due honour of music and song!

People of Paris, open the path to the triumphant Queen. Make way for the quadruped Queen of the festival wearing her crown of horns.

#ineffable wives #good omens #good omens fic #crowley x arizaphale #my fic #iqpsnd

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