"Not Even At Gunpoint!"
Future Echoes of the Past #3
I didn't plan this meta. Well, maybe...just a tiny, weeny bit...I had been keeping a parallel in mind for a while...but not in this context. But it was kind of one of these moments:
Lets start at the beginning.
@beebopboom has been exploring the three magic tricks that appear in the S2 opening sequence recently, and speculating how the third one might appear in S3, and I've been exploring the paintball fight scene at Tadfield Manor in S1E2 and how that relates to the Great War in Heaven that formed Hell, and the events around the Fall. The two topics intersect, as you have echoes of the Bullet Catch magic trick from the 1941 minisode in S2E4 appearing not once but at least twice at Tadfield Manor.
But...then I realised, there's more than one pointed gun. Way more.
I'd always liked this throwback line from Crowley in S2E1, when Nina asks him if he is a bookseller as well:
Who would want to be a bookseller when this could happen to you?
Shadwell, turning up at the book shop in S1E4, disturbs Aziraphale contacting Heaven through the portal (a modified Solomon's magic circle) under the oculus, and breaks in to confront him. The historical implications of Aziraphale's lines here are that before homosexuality was decriminalized in the UK meeting places for such people were often disguised as respectable looking book shops. Which makes Nina's question in S2E1 and Crowley's denial to her all the more...loaded? Ah, well, you can't fool Nina, now, can you?
Anyway, mah point is...Shadwell literally has Aziraphale at gunpoint, er, fingerpoint here. Loaded fingerpoint.
But then, this isn't the first time Aziraphale has had a gun pointed at him. He had one pointed at him in the church in 1941 by the Nazi agent double-crossing Greta. His biggest fear, as always, isn't actually "dying," or standing in front of the guns, its the paperwork that he knows will go with getting a new body from the Ineffable Bureaucracy.
Crowley turns up to rescue him, because he "didn't want to see [him] embarrassed." With a bit of equivocation between the two of them, all the time while at gunpoint from Greta, they team up to save each other.
This was even before we got to the Bullet Catch - his "show stopper!"
Back to Tadfield Manor.
As they enter, Crowley is lined up in the crosshairs.
Er, wait a minute...
Only Crowley is shown this way here, not Aziraphale. He's a target. I'm starting to ask what point in time this is referring to - the present or the past? Both. Yeah, why not both! The work I did in this previous meta in this series showed that Crowley was considered a target for early removal by the other demons-to-be prior to the Fall.
Then they are both shot.
I pointed out Aziraphale gets shot by blue paint, representing Heaven, but its a colour we don't see used again by any one in the fighting to come. But what I didn't talk about was WHERE he got hit - in the back. That's synonymous with treachery. Heaven has stabbed Aziraphale in the back, so to speak. wow. Nice - not.
And Crowley? He gets hit in the heart - just like the Norman/Lucifer parallel on the Yellow Team does a short while later during his "fall" scene - with the red paint, betrayed by the Red Team who represent the management in Heaven.
Seems the Ineffable Bureaucracy wanted both them out of the way during the Great War...it get more and more interesting each time I look closer at it...
So was Aziraphale ever in the crosshairs? Yep.
And, as @vavoom-sorted-art points out, this is a time Aziraphale chooses to pick a weapon, and to fight. He didn't want the simple, safe deception trick with the ropes - he wanted a weapon. He really is much more the warrior than Crowley. Aziraphale, I think your nature as a principality is showing!
Firing that gun made Crowley sick to his stomach, and so did this metaphorical loaded gun - the Book of Life.
As soon as he found out from Beelzebub it was a real possibility of being played he went back to protect Aziraphale. Crowley hates fighting - watch how often he will try shut it down as quickly as possible or try to escape it when he can. To him everyone has free will, and the person picking the fight with the other is imposing their will on them. That's 'not on' in his books.
Aziraphale, on the other hand, is still reacting with his ingrained Heavenly instincts - that he should follow his morals because they are 'right,' and more sophisticated weapons add weight to the moral argument. He thinks. Maybe. (Yeah, keep working on that doubt, angel.)
Az: Impressive hardware. I've looked at this gun, its not a proper one at all. It just shoots paintballs.
Cr: Don't your lot disapprove of guns?
Az: Unless they're in the right hands. Then they give weight to a moral argument. I think.
Cr: [laughing] A moral argument? Really? *tosses gun away* C'mon. [Heads into the Manor.]
[later, after Crowley changes the paintball guns to real guns...]
Az: But there are people out there shooting at each other!
Cr: Well - Lends weight to their moral argument. Everyone has free will, including the right to murder. Just think of it as a microcosm of the universe.
I'll think I'll end this here and leave you with a small montage of the aftermath of all this gun play - everything going up in flames and smoke.
Bring on S3!
If you didn't follow the links in the meta, and want to read the first two in this series, they are here:
#1: The Great War of Tadfield Manor
#2: The Newton/Crowley Mirror-Parallel in S1
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For your eight nights of Drarry event, what about “I get drunk on jealousy.”
Drunk on Jealousy
And for the finale of Eight Drarry Nights 2023, I am honored to write this for @xx-thedarklord-xx. Sam, I hope you know by now just how much I love your work. Apologies that this is so late. It's been a rough week (shoutout to my discord friends for the sweet support! You guys are amazing). But I wanted to give this proper time, which I haven't had until now. So, without further ado, here we go! And, of course, Happy (belated, now) Hanukkah.
Featuring: a secret relationship, possessive!Harry, and a Draco who is determined to drive Harry crazy—in the best way—until he snaps.
At this point, I'm starting to think the pint in your hand is just for show. You've hardly touched it. I'd wager you're entirely sober.
You come to pub nights with our colleagues, every other Friday, yet you hardly drink anymore. Would you be surprised that I've noticed? When have I not noticed you, Potter?
I've seen you watching me. You're not being very subtle; if you want to keep this a secret, you're going to have to tear your eyes away from my arse. Not that I want you to, mind you. I always want your eyes on me.
Have you caught on to my game yet? You're an ex-Auror. Use your talents of deduction. I flit and flirt my way through the pub, talking to everyone but you, but it's always your bed I come back to, isn't it? Meanwhile, you stew and scowl and glare at me from the corner of the pub as if you don't know the foregone conclusion.
Silly Potter. There's an easy way to get me to end this; a quick, surefire solution to this self-inflicted torture. You'd just have to march over here with that big, tough Chosen One bravado, scoop me into your arms, and kiss me the way you usually do when no one's around. No one else would dare touch me again, and we'd finally be free from sneaking around. Win-win.
But you're trying to be a gentleman. You're trying to "give me my space" and let me bring our relationship out of the proverbial closet when I'm ready. It's admirable; very touchy-feely-sweet-Gryffindor of you.
But I've had enough. I'm ready for more. I'm sure you'd say that I could simply tell you. But where's the fun in that? It's much more entertaining for me to see you get all worked up, jaw clenching with every smirk I throw your way as I talk and laugh and flirt with other men.
Tonight, though, I think you've finally realized. Or, at least, you're going to lose it. I'm talking to—what did he say his name was? Greg? Thomas? I'm not sure, but it won't matter in a moment. You're gripping that pint like it's personally offended you; I'm almost afraid it's going to shatter in your hand.
From the corner of my eye, I see you all but slam it on the table, the drink sloshing a bit over the rim. While the rest of the pub is too rowdy to notice, your tablemates startle and look at you with alarm. But you're glaring at me. I just deepen my smirk and raise my eyebrow at you.
You rise from your seat, letting your chair fall over behind you, and stride purposefully over to me.
Good.
That's it.
Come and get me.
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More blinkies made on blinkies.cafe based on songs I associate heavily with some OCs ^^ Just like last time, I'm ok with these being used without credit.
Songs used in order (warning that some may have "explicit" ratings or jarring/potentially triggering album covers! Tread with caution!):
-Your Surgeon is Human, Too (Machinery of the Human Heart)
-We Will Commit Wolf Murder (of Montreal)
-You Liked This (Okay, Computer!) (Will Wood)
-Wait Until I Get My Hands On You (The Paper Chase)
-A Thought of You (AJJ)
-Am I Awake? (They Might Be Giants)
-Spiraling Shape (They Might Be Giants)
-Ghost (nelward)
-Willard! (Will Wood)
-Time Machine (Miracle Musical)
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Have a little microfic with Prince!Roy and Royal Guard!Riza
(From a prompt by @creativepromptsforwriting, genderflipped for personality reasons. I'll post to AO3 when I've got a few more of the dialogue prompts done. Unbeta'd because I'm trying to break away from crippling perfectionism.)
"Come on, live a little!" Prince Roy says. He's smiling at her, that smile that makes her think he sees her as more than his bodyguard.
"I won't live very long at all if the king finds out what we're doing here," Riza replies. She thinks she's blushing. Why couldn't she have brought her helmet?
Because it's more recognizable than his face, she reminds herself. The people know their prince as a dashing figure of the court, not an intelligent, dedicated young man with deep brown eyes and a smile that lights up his square face. They would know the armor and helmet of the Royal Guard anywhere --- even in a waterfront tavern .
The minstrel they've come to see takes the stage, Prince Roy looks away from her. Riza abruptly remembers she's supposed to be watching the prince's back, not the prince himself.
Tagging @creativepromptfills in hopes of a reblog!
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