#on why they survived the hellfire/holy water | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vidavalor · 5 months

Note

I've always been confused by that but at the end of S1 when Crowley gets his Bentley back but takes a taxi instead. Could you enlighten me with your excellent analysises? (analyses??)

Hi! Hope you're having a nice day. I can talk about that, yes. I have chocolate cream pie tonight, if you'd like a slice.

The short answer is that's not Crowley seeing The Bentley and taking a taxi-- it's Aziraphale. Crowley & Aziraphale swapped bodies sometime in the night, in a scene we aren't shown. It was after the bus ride back from Tadfield and likely in Crowley's flat. There are a few reasons why we are only shown the scene in which they swap back but not the scene in which they swapped in the first place. The main one is to keep the suspense of the plot for the audience. If they told us they had swapped bodies, it would zap all the interesting out of the scenes of them surviving the hellfire and holy water in Heaven & Hell. The secondary reason is that it also allows them to jump from them together on the bus in Tadfield to them then apart the next morning, which is to say that they leave them holding hands on a bus ride back to Crowley's flat in London together and then show Crowley (as Aziraphale) having just arrived back at the bookshop alone in the early morning. They don't show us a single moment of the time in between, allowing for some ambiguity about what happened during the night.

All we know for sure is that they switched bodies at some point, as they are already in each other's bodies the following morning in the scenes before they meet up in the park. At some point, Crowley-- looking like Aziraphale-- left his flat to keep up appearances because they don't stay the full night at one another's places. He went back to the bookshop because he and Aziraphale had figured out that Adam's shift of reality meant that the bookshop was back again.

That's Crowley in Aziraphale's body in the gif above going through the bookshop and noting that everything is the same but for the new books Adam's changing of reality has left in the shop. The walk is probably the biggest indicator. Michael Sheen rounds his hip as he comes around the table to do Crowley's more loping walk, which is more circular in the hips than Aziraphale's is. The last time Crowley was in here was when it was burning to the ground and he couldn't sense Aziraphale so what we might, at first glance, think is Aziraphale seeing his shop again is really Crowley seeing it again, which is why the "Aziraphale" in the scene feels a bit off.

One of the secret joys of this scene is that Crowley notices the books Adam has added and remarks to himself that they're "new." We'd expect Aziraphale to know the books in his shop but the scene really tells us that Crowley also does... enough to be able to recognize the new ones that weren't there before.... which is suggestive of just how much time he spends there.

When he and Aziraphale meet up in the park, before they're kidnapped, Crowley will also tell Aziraphale that the bookshop is intact-- "not a smudge, not a book burned"-- which indicates that Crowley went through the entire bookshop, not just the part of the main floor that we saw him in. This suggests that Crowley knows the bookshop well enough to be able to gauge for Aziraphale whether or not anything is amiss. The more subtle implication is that one of the rooms he's this familiar with would then be Aziraphale's bedroom, if he's making this overall assessment of the bookshop.

It's then therefore Aziraphale in Crowley's body who is smiling at the sight of The Bentley because he knows that Crowley will be thrilled that it's back (and just because Aziraphale also loves the car.)

As for why Aziraphale-as-Crowley doesn't drive it when we now know that Aziraphale's had a license forever, even if the fact that he catches a cab could potentially signal to someone watching the apartment that it's not really him... it's a calculated low risk. (Crowley does sometimes take the bus, as we've seen.) Aziraphale probably figured that after the day before of stopping the end of the world and then swapping bodies with Crowley, he's probably maxed on what he can ask of Crowley at that point lol and driving The Bentley is a bridge too far. The car basically died and came back to life so that first drive is for Crowley, in Aziraphale's mind. Aziraphale can drive it in S2, in what becomes the mirror plot to the body swap-- our car/our bookshop.

#ineffable husbands #good omens #good omens meta #good omens 2 #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow

107 notes · View notes

aziraphales-library · 28 days

Note

Hi! First off, I've been following you for a little while and I really want to thank you for this page, it's been so useful to me so bless you.

Now, my question. I've seen there's a tag for holy water, do you happen to have a similar one for hellfire? I've been meaning to read some fics with hellfire involved!

Cheers <3

Hello! We have both #holy water and #hellfire tags, so you can check both out. Here are a few more to add to the hellfire collection. Mind the tags on some of these!...

Don't Move (You Could Get Hurt) by Skywing80 (T)

Aziraphale and Crowley had been enjoying their day outside when suddenly everything went south. Now Crowley has to take care of an injured Aziraphale while also dealing with the guilt of not saving him from getting hurt

Jailbreak by Tigerphoenix (M)

Crowley was just relaxing in the bookshop when Muriel returned from reporting to Heaven. They bear horrible news. Aziraphale got himself into serious trouble. He's locked up, with the threat of being cast down to Hell hanging over his head. Crowley has to do something.

ignited by ineffableserpent (T)

As soon as they exit the office, Aziraphale suddenly freezes, midway to the main shop entrance. His nose wrinkles, and he looks around, eyes widening. “Crowley —“ he asks, turning to face him. “I’m terribly sorry to ask — have you made any recent trips Downstairs?” Crowley blinks at him, shaking his head immediately. “No, I ‘aven’t. You’d know if I did. Why d’you ask —“ Any further words die on the serpent’s tongue as soon as he opens his mouth. He can smell it, taste it; the smell of smoke, rapidly intensifying. Not just smoke, but sulphur. Dark clouds of it begin to envelop the inside of the shop, sending a flood of memories through the demon’s head that he’d tried everything to bury. OR; Aziraphale’s beloved bookshop is set aflame by a revenge act from Hell. Crowley is there to pick up the charred pieces, while taking care of loose ends.

Hell Hath No Fury Like Idiots in Love by Somewhere_in_Wales (M)

After Crowley drinks the laudanum, he gets pulled down to Hell for punishment. But what if a certain Angel still had a tight hold of his waist when it happened? In the depths of darkness, they face torturous beasts, HellFire, personal demons and a Lord of Hell in their bid to escape. Featuring a long-suffering Lord of the Flies, wall-pinning and (consenting) undressing (not sexual... okay, it's a bit sexual).

Inferno by EdosianOrchids901 (T)

Aziraphale and Crowley’s assignments in the town of Herculaneum take a deadly turn. Earthquakes rock the area as angels and demons clash nearby, and something odd is happening with Mount Vesuvius. Soon, they’re struggling to survive a fiery cataclysm. Can they find a way to save each other?

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #hellfire #hurt aziraphale #hurt/comfort #mind the tags #mod d

47 notes · View notes

shieldmaiden-tabris · 10 months

Text

You wanna know what really kills me?

Heaven was never going to leave Aziraphale and Crowley alone. After what they did, there's no way they could. Crowley and Aziraphale didn't just go rogue. They openly defied Heaven and Hell, gave middle fingers to the Great Plan, and walked away with no consequences. They showed that Heaven doesn't have as much control as they claim. Their continued existence threatens the fragile status quo that Heaven has painstakingly worked to maintain over 6,000 years. If Heaven is to salvage what remains of the Great Plan as they see it, their next plan cannot have any uncontrolled variables, and Crowley and Aziraphale are as uncontrollable as it gets.

Heaven needed to find a way to eliminate Crowley and Aziraphale to prevent them from ever interfering with their plans again. However, it can't be as simple as just killing them.

When Aziraphale and Crowley survived their attempted executions, they became an even bigger problem. Hell made a huge mistake in choosing to make Crowley's trial a spectacle. While "Crowley" splashed around in Holy Water in front of a demonic audience, Beelzebub immediately went into damage control mode so riots wouldn't break out, but by then, it was too late. Too many demons saw that Hell had lost control of one of their own and any remaining power Hell had over Crowley vanished. Crowley absolutely knows this. Look at the way he responds when directly threatened in season 2. When Beelzebub threatens Crowley in episode 1, he doesn't react at all, it's like he doesn't even hear it. When Shax says that he'll be, "hunted and eliminated by Hell," in episode 2, Crowley gives such a nonreaction that Shax even says, "So you understand that I'm threatening you?" Even then, he just revs the engine until she leaves. The threats are empty.

Heaven's saving grace was that only the Archangels were present during Aziraphale's attempted execution. Only they, the angels in power, know that the Hellfire didn't work and they aim to keep it that way. If on the off chance anyone asks why Aziraphale went unpunished for his role in stopping Armageddon, all they need to say is that, "oh, he's been forgiven by God, who has decided to be merciful and x, y, z, so on and soforth," or something along those lines that supports the idea that Heaven is still Good and nothing is wrong and do not look at the man behind the curtain, so to speak.

Neither Heaven nor Hell have reason to suspect Crowley and Aziraphale switched bodies, so I highly doubt they would risk trying the same methods again unless they're entirely certain it would succeed. (Yes, Crowley spilled the secret to Gabriel while drunk, which I do think is going to come into play in season 3, but given that Gabriel never had the chance to tell Heaven and is now off somewhere with Beelzebub, as of the season 2 finale, the other angels and demons still don't know.)

If Crowley and Aziraphale can't be destroyed, then Heaven's only alternative is to separate them somehow. Physically forcing them apart would have been out of the question from the start. Crowley and Aziraphale displayed pretty impressive power performing that miracle on Gabriel, and when you couple that with the idea that they can't be destroyed by Holy Water or Hellfire, that's more than a little threatening. If they were forced apart, I can guarantee there is nothing in Heaven or Hell that could keep them separate.

So mutual separation it is. But how?

Enter, the Metatron.

I've seen a few posts pointing out that Crowley was the only one who recognized the Metatron in the bookshop and how such familiarity is possibly a hint to his former rank in Heaven. But what if Crowley knows the Metatron for another reason? I keep thinking back to the scene with Crowley and Aziraphale on the mountain, watching as Job talks directly to God. While Aziraphale looks on in awe, Crowley looks confused, maybe even envious and a little hurt. Consider the next few lines of dialogue:

Crowley: "Is God actually..." Aziraphale: "I think so." Crowley: "...talking to him?" Aziraphale: "I don't suppose he's getting any answers." Crowley: "No. But just to be able to ask the question..."

We know Crowley Fell for asking questions, but what if he never talked directly to God? What if he asked those questions to the voice of God, the Metatron? And what if the Metatron was one of the last faces he saw before he Fell? That would certainly leave an impression, no doubt.

I think the Metatron already knew Crowley wouldn't accept Heaven's offer because he knows what questions Crowley asked. He knows Crowley has never been one to blindly follow orders like Heaven demands. Crowley doesn't want to be a pawn anymore, he's never wanted to be a pawn in the first place. He's left Heaven and Hell behind to stand firmly on his own side and make his own decisions. Aziraphale on the other hand, still believes in Heaven's goodness. He thinks the rest of the Heavenly Host has just lost their way and longs to change the system from the inside. The Metatron is now using that faith to get him away from Crowley and back under Heaven's thumb by offering him a chance to change things in Heaven.

First, he defended Aziraphale when the Archangels were being bullies in the bookshop. Then, he offered Aziraphale coffee.

Oh, my god, the coffee... As soon as I saw it, I knew exactly what he was doing.

The coffee was a manipulation tactic to establish a commonality between himself and Aziraphale and distinguish the Metatron from the other angels by saying, "see? I'm like you." The use of drinks this season has been SUPER interesting to observe. When Gabriel appears at the bookshop, Aziraphale offers him hot chocolate. Before losing his memory, Gabriel wouldn't have touched the stuff. Later, Aziraphale offers Muriel a cup of tea and Muriel has no idea what to do with it. The Metatron's offering of coffee is the first time another angel has offered Aziraphale a drink. An offering of sorts.

The next thing the Metatron did was to physically separate Aziraphale from Crowley. And the look, the LOOK the Metatron gave Crowley when Aziraphale walked ahead... The moment the Metatron was able to get Aziraphale alone, he knew he'd got him. He took Aziraphale away from his support and then offered him a chance to make a difference.

"So predictable," the Metatron says to Nina in the coffee shop.

And he was right. He knew Aziraphale would accept his offer, just like he knew Crowley would refuse.

Heaven got their wish. Crowley and Aziraphale are separated. It took the Voice of God coming down from Heaven to do it, but it happened.

I don't know what Heaven has planned for Aziraphale. Maybe they plan to attempt to indoctrinate him again, or maybe they plan to keep him so busy with tedious tasks so he's out of the way of the real work they're doing. We'll just have to wait and see.

I do know one thing. Aziraphale will come back to Crowley. They won't be apart for too long. They will be on their own side, together at last, the two of them against Heaven and Hell at the end of all things and after. Of that, I'm certain.

#Good Omens #Good Omens 2 #Good Omens spoilers #spoilers #Ineffable Husbands #Aziraphale #Anthony J Crowley #ugh i hate and love my rambles

23 notes · View notes

postsforposting · 6 months

Text

fake tattoo

Saw a post yesterday that confirmed the gold snake tattoo in heaven was indeed a sticker, ie pasted on and not drawn on like it usually is, with the given rationale being that Crowley can't change the tattoo so it's "covered up". That's why it looks like it's peeling off/falling off, because it is, it's supposed to look like that. Heaven isn't the only time this peeling off effect shows up though.

This is s2e6, 6:57, a bee in heaven:

There's one other time it looks like it's falling off/pasted on: s2e3 at 6:57, as Crowley is watching Aziraphale drive away in his car. We don't see the tattoo during the scene Muriel shows up, but we do see it in the back room when they talk in private, and it doesn't look fake. It doesn't look fake in the scene after Az drives away either, while Crowley is in the bookshop. So why do it for these few seconds? And why are both fake tattoos shown at 6:57?

3 and 6 are holy numbers, God likes 3's. God also likes 7's. These tattoos occur in episodes 3 and 6. That would imply that Crowley is blessed or being watched over by Herself.

When you google "bible 6:56", you get the famous verses John 6:56:

56 Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me, and I in them. 57 Just as the living Father sent me and I live because of the Father, so the one who feeds on me will live because of me.

Quite literally Crowley "feeds on" Aziraphale by watching him eat, and they both drink plenty of wine. Metaphorically, these are the communion verses speaking of wine as blood and bread as flesh, thus implying Crowley is Jesus by showing him as the sole character on screen, as well as all the other Crowley-is-Jesus imagery in the show and promos. Perhaps it also implies that by sharing his car, Crowley is participating in communion with Aziraphale, and thus granting him/them both eternal life; or that they are comingling their essences in some way like they did in the body swap, so that some part of each of them is now in both of them--meaning that neither can truly die so long as the other lives. Neither can be killed by hellfire nor by holy water, which is what we've proposed was the real threat in Metatron's chinwag to Aziraphale that we weren't shown. Metatron knew how they survived their trials at the end of s1, and that's what he told Aziraphale and threatened Crowley with if Aziraphale didn't come back to heaven.

But do C&A know they can't be killed, if this interpretation is true? I don't think they do, because the Metatron's threat wouldn't have been a threat if they knew. Aziraphale probably would have still gone to heaven to save everyone else, but him and Crowley would have been safe.

Conveniently this also explains why the Bentley permanently changes after Aziraphale drives it. It's a manifestation of communion: "I in him and him in me". There's also that this could mean they fucked.

None of this explains why the tattoo in e3 looks fake though. And the show wants us to notice that fake tattoo, it's shiny and almost dead center in the frame. Is that not the same Crowley? Is he not a demon anymore? Is he hiding something, why is he trying to pass as...himself? Is that someone who looks like Crowley but isn't? Is this scene out of order in the timeline and we're not actually watching what we think we're watching?

#good omens

8 notes · View notes

asmodeus-fallen-principality · 8 months

Note

HE'S SCARED OF SCARING YOU OFF

my god y'all don't talk in any universe, do you?

Why would I be scared off? We survived the Apocalypse, we walked through Hellfire and Holy Water together, Heaven and Hell have left us completely alone for the past two years (bar this past week). There has never been a more appropriate time- and he's the one always leaps and strides ahead of me.

It hasn't happened; it isn't going to. I don't want us to end up like- apologies, Aziraphale and Crowley.

#((momo. he may be an angel but he can't READ MINDS.))#asmodeus answers

5 notes · View notes

badpancakelol · 1 year

Text

The One in Which a Time Loop is Fucking Exhausting, Chapter 7: THE FUNERAL

It’s not. Enough time saved, that is, to contact El. By the time that they’re flipping into Eddie’s trailer, and Steve’s rushed to the phone to try and call the Byers’ household, the phone is still busy. The hope has been crushed and bled dry, dissipating into water in his chest.

(He doesn’t know why he thought it would work. The Byers’ phone was busy before they went down, there would be no reason for them to pick up after. Maybe it was foolhardy want, need, for this all to be over. For him to be a step closer to fixing things, a step closer to Eddie surviving).

— — —

Pre-loop Steve had come for Dustin’s sake. He had stood there, looking at the coffin as it was lowered, and Steve had rested a hand on his shoulder, on the too-big suit that bracketed his shoulders. It was a short affair. Wayne Munson hadn’t said any words, staring silently as Eddie was put to rest.

After, Dustin had approached Wayne, limping and tearful, and talked. Steve waited for him, a sick feeling in his chest as he watched the government personnel slowly file out into their slick black cars, faces blank. He remembers cursing them in his head. Looking at the way that they had so easily shifted blame, accountability, the way that they hadn’t even looked at Wayne or Dustin or the Hellfire Club.

Mike had missed it. Too far away to have come back in time, not even knowing until he had stepped onto Hawkins soil and convened with Dustin and Lucas. He had come with such a wide smile, because they had won, and El was able to stop Vecna, and Hopper was alive, and Nancy was okay. Steve had to watch as that smile had crumbled, the way that he shook his head, holding his head in his hands.

They had never liked each other, not fully. Maybe there was resentment from Mike for how Steve used to be, dickhole-ish and arrogant. But when he had watched him, eyes red and bottom lip quivering, Steve had pulled him close in his arms.

(He remembers how hard Mike had clutched Steve’s shirt. There was a mess of arms and warmth as Jonathan and Will and Dustin and Lucas and El had held them all, together, close, on the pavement).

— — —

Steve is the distraction with Eddie, once. Dustin had protested, but one look from Steve, hands on his hips, and he had followed Lucas and Max into the Creel House. Nancy had gone with Robin, and yeah, maybe it was morbid curiosity of the want to know what happened, to see, to feel, to be there in the last moments.

“You ready for the most metal concert of your life, Stevie?”

He knew that Eddie was going to die. But there was a smile on his face, a glee unmatched by anything that he had ever seen, just at the prospect of helping, of saving the town who hated him, and it made Steve want to crumble.

“Fuck yeah.”

They had lugged the amp up atop of the trailer, battery powered and max volume, Eddie had shredded. Steve kept count of the time, cheering and whistling. And when they only had seconds left before the bats arrived, they stumbled down the roof, clutching to the wire gate, out of breath and relieved.

There was a shine in his eyes that said we did it, and holy shit, and we’re alive. They had stood there, indulging, before Steve was reminded of the vents. But it was too late.

With no Dustin to boost up, they both run. Maybe it’s the terrified need to protect the girls in the house. Or the need to buy more time for the group not in the Upside Down. Or maybe it’s looking up at the gate and realising that the bats could fly through easily, that makes them bait the monsters.

They grab the bikes, going as fast as they can, looking back and looking forwards, stumbling and tumbling, before running again. Steve knows what happens next. Has lived through it, once, has known Eddie to die to it nearly every time.

The bats swarm. There’s a void of screeching and impossibly sharp fangs, tails whipping around at every each turn. Eddie brandishes his shield and spear, stabbing and ducking and crouching. They’re back to back when he says it, shouting over the noise, needing to be heard.

“If I’m gonna die, Harrington—”

“You’re not going to die!” It’s a reflex. A promise. A need.

“Well our chances are looking pretty fucking slim right now!”

A bat breaks off from the mass, tail reaching to drag Eddie back, but Steve is there to grab it and hurl it back to its group with a shout.

“I want to graduate!” Eddie shouts. “I want to have an apartment with two cats, I want to play another campaign! I want to tell my Uncle that I love him, and I want to fall in love!”

The bats tunnel at the top, trapping what little light existed in this world.

Eddie turns to him, smile slight, eyes wavering as he closes them, weapons discarded. “Your turn, Steve.”

It’s the first time that Eddie has used his name. Not Stevie, or Harrington, or any other nicknames. Just Steve. It hurts that much more, to be called his name, seen and hiding, in the moments before. He brings Eddie close, throwing his spear, watches as it disappears into the sea of monsters. Steve tucks Eddie’s head into his shoulder as he shouts and he pleads and begs.

“I want to see Robin happy, I want to prove my dad wrong. I want to swim in my pool, I want to sleep a full night!” His voice breaks and he knows that he’s crying. Can feel the tears roll off leather jackets and soak into denim vests. “I want to live!”

They’ve meshed so close together, bats closing in closer and closer before Steve can feel the beginnings of teeth gnawing on his ankle, or the sharp flap of claws. They hold each other as tails are wrapped around their necks, fingers bruising and hurting and holding, as they’re ripped apart.

He is the distraction with Eddie, once. They die alone, together, alone.

— — —

During The Longest Loop, there were two funerals. The one that Steve hadn’t gone to, constructed by suits to create easy getaways and conclusions for the families who laid wrecked and mourning. He had been through it once before, tired and hurt, and he didn’t want to go through it again.

The second funeral was Dustin’s idea. He had grown closer to Eddie’s uncle after his death, talking and sharing stories, reminiscing on the person he had been — the real person. Not the carefully moulded version that was presented to the public. Wayne had mentioned how he wanted a proper send off, say his goodbyes in peace.

It was more of a farewell party, if anything. At first, they had wanted to hold it at the Munson trailer, but had soon found that is was bordered off with yellow tape, people standing watch at all hour of the day. In the end, it was decided to be held at Steve’s house.

They had ordered pizza and sat outside under the night sky, and one by one they had told their stories about Eddie. The had laughed and they had cried, bringing trinkets and post-it notes, dice and love to a fire pit by the pool. And once they were all done, laid bare and open, wanting and finished, each item had been tossed into the fire.

Steve had heard about the way he would conduct Hellfire meets, his frantic and overly dramatic way of monologuing, smiling and laughing when his monstrous creations were defeated. He had learned of the time Eddie had cared for Wayne when he was sick, and the way that he opened his arms and his home to his friends.

Wayne had brought a handful of sticky notes from his trailer, scrawled and etched with Eddie’s handwriting. Simple things like “don’t forget to buy milk, fucker”, and “HELLFIRE MEET AT 5PM. DON’T BE LATE”, and “english test on monday :(”. There were the ramblings of lyrics, and misspelled words (“buy graduition garduation school ceremony clothes”), and it was just so Eddie that it made Steve want to cry.

It was cathartic, in a way.

Steve remembers the way that everyone filed out of his house, some staying in guest rooms and sleeping bags in the living room, and the way that he had stayed outside by the pit. He almost wanted to give up. To stay in this version of the loop forever, where people had gained closure, and told their stories, not knowing the truth, yes, but healing nonetheless.

With no one to witness by the trees of the woods and the burning stars, he had thrown one of Eddie’s pins into the fire, and with it, a promise to save him.

— — —

Steve asks for Eddie’s vest before it’s thrown in his face. He uses the exact words that are normally said to him (“For my modesty?”). There’s a part of him that revels in the way that Eddie’s face flushes under the red-blue of the sky. Feels content at the way hands or on his, guiding his arms through the denim.

“It looks better on you, anyway.” He had said, turning his face away, straightening the collar, hand brushing the back of Steve’s neck.

“Mhmmm. Maybe I should keep it, then?”

“You have a habit of stealing from the poor, Stevie?”

“Only from you, Eddie.”

— — —

His funeral is a constant. It’s a rushed amalgamation of government suits trying to push blame of the Vecna victims onto his dead body, brandishing him as a murderer to his grave. Steve lives through Eddie’s funeral three times: before the loop existed, in The Longest Loop, and now.

After the failed attempt at contacting El, Steve stops trying. Just for a couple loops, resting, thinking, planning. He stops and lets things happen, a voice in the back of his head telling him this is how it was always meant to be. El is too late, Max is in a coma, and Eddie dies.

(Somehow, between the fractures of guilt filling him in at the seams, he’s happy that Jason died this loop. Steve can’t imagine the shit show that would have occurred if he had been here, watching these people grieve).

Steve watches the silent tears of Wayne Munson as the empty coffin is lowered, ugly and raw, watches as Dustin places a Hellfire t-shirt on the wood. This time, the third time that Steve has attended Eddie’s funeral, he approaches Wayne.

“Eddie meant a lot to,” Me. He wants to say. “A lot of people. I know that he didn’t do what they’re saying he did, Mr Munson.”

Wayne nods, turning to look Steve. “You knew my boy well?”

He must find something within his eyes, see the distress and the days, the conversations that don’t exist anymore, knowledge that he should not have, because Steve is being pulled in close, arms around his shoulders.

Maybe he doesn’t deserve this. To cry over someone that he isn’t meant to know, to be able to seek comfort in others. There’s a blossoming of guilt, building and building. Steve can feel it in the way his hands shake, or the way his teeth ache in sorrow as he rests his head on Wayne’s shoulder and weeps.

— — —

“How did you know Eddie?”

Later, Dustin questions him. They had escaped to the empty halls of Steve’s house, sitting on the couch in the living room and, where Steve had held the kid until his breathing had evened out, and his eyes were drier.

“He never mentioned you, and every time I brought you up, Steve, he would be so weirded out at how you were no longer an asshole.”

“Hey, that feels a little unfair! I wasn’t even a dick to him!”

Dustin levels him with a look that Steve swears he has used on the kids before. He almost wants to dodge the question, or tell the teen about the loops and the impossible task of saving everyone that has been placed upon his shoulders, and his alone.

(He remembers the haunted look in Robin’s eyes as he had slipped into the pool. Steve decides that the kid’s been through enough).

“Trauma pulls people together. Going through all that shit with him in the Upside Down, and getting to know who he was, only for him to die?” Steve breathes. “It’s a lot.”

He’s known Eddie for so long, so little, of time, that it feels disingenuous. When Dustin starts telling Steve about him — stories of campaigns and lunch monologues and fake monsters — the overwhelming feeling of nothing that happened was real starts to take over.

#steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie x steve #steveddie #steddie #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #ao3 #ao3fic #my fic #The One in Which a Time Loop is Fucking Exhausting #Steve Harrington's Unwilling Time Loop Saga

7 notes · View notes

cupidlsstuff · 2 years

Text

chapter three

this wasn’t supposed to happen.

HEY I NEVER MENTIONED- READER IS STEVES SISTER! JUST TO LET YK

“found it, chrissy!” eddie announced, strutting out of his room. he looked down at the drug in his hand. “peaceful bliss, just moments away,” he sighed, then looked up.

“chrissy?” he mumbled, walking up to her and tapping her. “chrissy!” he shouted, shaking her. “chrissy wake up..chrissy wake UPPP!” he took her face is his hands.

“i don’t like this, chrissy! wake up!!” he exclaimed. he lightly slapped her face before she lifted up into the air. “holy shit..” eddie breathed out, backing away from her. almost hitting the ceiling, she stopped. just for a second, before her bones started to snap and break.

eddie backed up more, stumbling over a stool and falling down on his ass. that’s when chrissy’s jaw snapped, her eyes sucked out of their sockets. eddie screamed as she fell to the floor, he then quickly got up, hurrying out of the door. breathing heavily, he shoved himself in his van, starting it and driving off as fast he could.

tears threatened to spill from his eyes as he drove towards his girlfriend’s house. finally, he drove into her neighborhood and sped down her street. he pulled into her driveway, heaving himself out of the van. he ran up to her door and slammed it open.

there she was on the couch. she looked at his pale face, his watery eyes, and his chest rise and fall quickly. “jesus christ, eddie are you okay? you look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” she said, getting up. she walked over to him, gently shut the door behind him.

“what’s going on?” she asked, cupping his face as he looked down at her. “chrissy she- she died- i don’t know how she just, she rose into the air, her bones snapped- she bent like a pretzel! her eyes- they- they got sucked outta her sockets! i know you won’t believe me, but it happened!” he couldn’t take it anymore, he started to sob. “i watched it happen..” eddie sobbed out.

“oh, god eddie. of course i believe you,” she said, wiping his tears. “this isn’t really my first rodeo,” she chuckled out. “w-what?” he said, looking at her with hopeful eyes. hoping she she wasn’t lying. “come here,” she told him, taking his hand and sitting down with him on the couch.

“remember last year? all those days i couldn’t make it to hellfire?” she asked, now taking both his hands in hers. he nodded, sniffing, trying to calm down. “well, i was busy defeating a big ass monster called a mindflayer,” she admitted. “i mean, being steve’s sister and all, i was dragged into it a little,” she sighed, shaking her head.

“so, yes, eddie, i believe you. 100%” she reassured him. he nodded, finally calming down for the most part. “is that also why you looked like you got beat up when i first saw you again after that?” he asked. she nodded. “exactly. mindflayer got me pretty good, but i survived,” she winked and smiled triumphantly. “here, you can camp out here tonight until tomorrow. steve should be home soon, so we can just go upstairs and hang out. we’ll see what happens tomorrow, okay?” she told him, reaching her hand up and rubbing the side of his arm.

“okay,” eddie agreed. (y/n) smiled and stood up, reaching a hand out to eddie. “alright. let’s go, i’ll put on some music for ya, then i’ll get some water. we can sit together until you fall asleep, yeah?” she said as eddie took her hand and stood up. (y/n) led him upstairs and into her room, eddie shutting the door behind him.

“just sit on the bed, let me get a cassette” she instructed, pointing at the bed then looking in her closet for a black sabbath cassette. she looked to eddie who sat on his side of the bed, nervously fiddling with his rings. “or do you want a cassingle?” she questioned. “you got sweet leaf?” she nodded and pulled it from the box. she got up and walked over to her cassette player, sliding it in and pressing play.

sweet leaf was (y/n)’s and eddie’s song. they listened to it all the time when they were together. “i’ll go get that water now. be right back,” (y/n) said and left the room, hurrying downstairs. before she entered the kitchen, the front door opened. it was steve. “oh, hey steve,” (y/n) greeted him as he set his keys down on a table. “hi. what’s up?” steve replied, looking up at her. “you’re usually asleep by this time,” he said, checking his watch. 11:36. “um, steve, something happened. eddie’s upstairs. said he saw chrissy cunningham die right in front of him. he was doing a drug deal with her. he told me he saw her bones snap, her eyes sucked into her head,” she explained to her brother.

“steve, i think we’ve got another thing like last year on our hands,” (y/n) sighed, going into the kitchen and grabbing a cup. “you’re kidding,” steve was taken aback, he sat down at the dinner table that wasn’t too far from the kitchen. “he’s obviously gonna be wanted for murder then. i mean, i understand he didn’t do it, but it’s obviously going to seem like it,” steve told her, watching her get ice from their freezer. “that’s what i’m afraid of,” (y/n) admitted, glancing at steve as she went to the sink.

she filled the cup with water then went over to steve. “the two of us will figure this out. just don’t mention it to him, i don’t want him to freak out. i’ll see you in the morning. night, steve,” she explained. “okay, night (y/n),” steve told her, getting up from his seat and going into the living room. (y/n) trotted back upstairs, gently opening the door. she stepped inside and shut the door quietly. “you okay? got your water. steve’s home by the way,” (y/n) sat down next to eddie as he nodded. she handed him the water. he took it and sipped from it, setting it down on her nightstand.

(y/n) kissed him, his lips soft on hers. she pulled away and looked into his eyes. “everything will be okay, eds, i promise you. if things get out of hand tomorrow, i’ll take you to rick’s, okay? now, let’s get you changed. i’ve got some of your clothes.”

(y/n) got up and went back over to her closet, opening it, she pulled out her huge metallica hoodie and some black sweatpants. (y/n) motioned for him to come over to her. he got up from the bed and slowly made his way over to his girlfriend. he took the clothes from her and spoke as he changed, “thank you. i don’t know what i’d do without you, yknow?”

“well, i’ll always help you. through thick and thin, yeah?” she told him as he changed. (y/n) looked back to her closet and pulled out an ac/dc t-shirt along with some black shorts. as eddie finished changing, she took her shirt off and pulled the t-shirt on, then changed out of her plaid skirt and into the shorts.

she put her hand on eddie’s back and guided him back to the bed. “let’s get you to sleep, mkay? we’ll make this better in the morning,” (y/n) said to him, moving the covers so eddie can get under them. he slid into bed, pulling the covers up and turning onto his side, facing her side of the bed. she got into bed next to him, laying on her side as well, facing eddie.

(y/n) reached her hand up and rubbed her thumb across eddie’s cheek. “i love you so much, eds. i’ll keep you safe,” she smiled, now cupping eddie’s cheek. “i love you the most, sweetheart. thank you for everything,” he replied, smiling. (y/n) opened her arms. “come here,” she told him. eddie scoots over and into her arms.

“you make me feel so much better,” eddie told her, closing his eyes. “i’m glad. goodnight, baby,” (y/n) said, kissing his forehead and closing her own eyes. “night, princess,” eddie replied, slowly falling asleep, sweet leaf softly playing on loop in the background.

eddie would be safe, but just not there.

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #stranger things 4 #x reader

9 notes · View notes

thedevilsmemes · 3 years

Text

PINTEREST QUOTES I USE IN MY MUSINGS BOARDS ~ A SENTENCE MEME - PART 2

Change pronouns as / when needed to preferred pronoun.

“I do not do justice, I do damage. I do not do empathy, I do damage. I do not do forgiveness, I do damage. I do not do mercy, I do damage.”

“Like, you can boss me around in sexual situations but you better not try to tell me what to do in regular life.”

“I’m fine, I’ve had worse.”

“I’m meaner than my demons.”

“If I cannot bend Heaven, I will raise Hell.”

“Well, aren’t you a little ray of pitch black?”

“He was like a storm.”

“You want to play dirty? Fine, let’s play dirty!”

{ feels an emotion. } “Who the fuck authorised this?!”

“What the fuck? What the fuck is this? What the fuck?”

“Judge if you want. We are all going to die. I intend to deserve it.”

“Goddamn right you should be scared of me.”

“They wanted a monster; I decided to give them one.”

“Seduce and destroy.”

“What the fuck is intimacy? How does that work? Letting… people be close to you? What the fuck?”

“You couldn’t kill me if you tried for one hundred years.”

“I’ll do this my way.”

“I am severely emotionally unstable.”

“What, from the bottom of the heart, the fuck?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t take any orders. I barely take suggestions.”

“I send my best regards from Hell.”

“I like my coffee how I like myself: Dark, bitter and too hot for you.”

“Me and God, we don’t get along.”

“Be brave, Angel.”

“Self care is drinking three pots of coffee and getting into a knife fight with God.”

{ takes gulp of vodka straight from the bottle } “My day was fine.”

“Have I stabbed you? No. Then I am being nice.”

“Holy Shit! I’M the demon living in my house.”

“Sir, that’s my emotional support knife collection.”

“I want an ancient elaborate dagger with my name engraved into the blade as a gift. The only romantic gesture.”

“ ‘Are you a top or a bottom?’ I'm a threat!”

“Stop being so defensive! I’m just trying to hit you with weapons.”

“The more knives you have the more valid you are.”

“She’s strong but she’s exhausted.”

“She loves moonlight and rainstorms and so many other things that have soul.”

“My darling, you can’t see it can you? How like the moon you are. Both of you so timid in yourselves; hiding pieces from the world. Then, there are those rare moments when you are both full, and it becomes hard to look away. You are beautiful.”

“Calm her chaos but never silence her storm.”

“She wears strength and darkness equally well. That girl has always been half Goddess, half Hell.”

“She has been through Hell, so believe me when I say, fear her when she looks into the fire and smiles.”

“She’s proof that you can walk through Hell and still be an angel.”

“She is both hellfire and holy water. And the flavour you taste depends on how you treat her.”

“Even the mountains can not hold all you have been carrying.”

“Storm with skin.”

“She’s thunderstorms”

“Kindness is a language that the deaf can hear and the blind can see.”

“Sometimes it takes only one act of kindness and caring to change a person’s life.”

“You have a heart of gold.”

“Butterflies are the Heaven-sent kisses of an angel.”

“She who is brave is free.”

“Clever as the Devil and twice as pretty.”

“Shut up. I wear heels bigger than your dick.”

“Girls who run in heels should be feared.”

“Family is everything to me.”

“She’s an old soul that believes in chivalry, romance, and love.”

“I hate getting flashbacks from things I don’t want to remember.”

“I run on coffee and grace.”

“I’m glad I’ve got boobs… the last thing I need is people making eye contact with me.”

“Tell me to put on my big girl panties one more time… and I’ll take off my thong and strangle you with it!”

“Please read all my posts in a sarcastic tone. You know, for full effect.”

“I have one nerve left and you’re dry-humping it, go away.”

“If I offend you, cry me a river. I’ll bring snacks and a raft. I will literally float down your tears, eating chips and working on my tan.”

“When she is happy, she can’t stop talking. When she is sad, she doesn’t say a word.”

“Music becomes my best friend when nobody else understands me.”

“Act like a lady, think like a boss.”

“I know I have friends but I feel I have no one to talk to about the shit that goes on in my head.”

“She was special. She combined a mean angel and a kind devil.”

“So much pain for someone so young.”

“She’s one of a kind.”

“Red lips and wine sips.”

“Brave girl, it’s time to love again.”

“She is intelligent.”

“Sometimes, when I say ‘I’m okay.’ I want someone to look me in the eyes, hug me tight, and say, ‘I know you’re not.’ ”

“Because I’m not the kind of girl guys fall in love with.”

“I fear I will spend my life, waiting for a love story that doesn’t exist.”

“You’re a woman, use it; bring every man you meet to his motherfucking knees.”

“She denies it but, the truth is, she’s falling in love with him.”

“Hearing your heels click on the floor sounds like power.”

“She loves deeply, regardless of the love she gets back in return and it’s both her biggest strength and biggest weakness…”

“Experience raised her. Hurt taught her. Neither defined her.”

“She was not fragile like a flower was, she was fragile like a bomb.”

“Life is short; make every hair flip count.”

“I’ve always been someone who looks ‘too deep’ into something or someone. That’s because I realised from a young age that there’s always more than what meets the eye.”

“If I say ‘first of all’ Run away because I have prepared research, data, charts, and will destroy you.”

“Underestimate me, that’ll be fun.”

“You think I’m sarcastic? You should hear what I don’t say!”

“She’s a combination of sensitive and savage.”

“Stay classy, sassy and a bit bad assy.”

“She’s battling things her smile will never tell you about.”

“Ain't you ever seen a princess be a bad bitch?”

“I was told I was dangerous… I asked why? They said ‘because you don’t need anyone.’ That’s when I smiled.”

“She’s been through hell and came out an angel. You didn’t break her darling, you don’t own that kind of power.”

“Watch me. I will go to my own sun and, if I am burned by the flames, I will fly on scorched wings.”

“Her messy hair is a visible attribute to her stubborn spirit. As she shakes it free, she smiles, knowing wild is her favourite colour.”

“She’s strong. But in the back of her mind she doesn’t think that she was meant to be this strong for this long. And she wonders if there is a man out there, somewhere, who understands this.”

“She’s not for everyone and she knows it. People find her different and strange. She dances in the rain, she laughs when she cries and loves through her pain. People fear the unknown and they never knew a girl like her.”

“Don’t tell a girl with fire in her veins and hurricane bones what she should and shouldn’t do. In the blink of an eye, she will shatter that ridiculous cage you attempt to build around her beautiful bohemian spirit.”

“You provoke her until she roars and then get upset at her for becoming the monster you created.”

“Rip out his ego with your fresh nails.”

“She isn’t the sunrise; she’s the fucking sun.”

“You can’t touch a woman who can wear pain like the grandest of diamonds around her neck.”

“Watch your tongue around her. She will bear her fangs and tear you apart with all the grace of a Queen.”

“If you won’t embrace her madness, then you’ll never taste her magic.”

“Beauty may be dangerous but intelligence is lethal.”

“She is water. Powerful enough to drown you, soft enough to cleanse you, deep enough to save you.”

“Heavy is the crown and yet she wears it as if it were a feather. There is strength in her heart, determination in her eyes and the will to survive resides within her soul.”

“I wish that I could say that I am a light that never goes out, but I flicker from time to time.”

“Spoil me with loyalty. I can finance myself.”

“Shoutout to all the people with brown hair and brown eyes! We basic as fuck but we cute!”

“I feel a nap coming on.”

“Is horny an emotion?”

“I just really like thigh-highs.”

“Even though she looks innocent, she is really a perverted demon.”

“She didn’t sob or wail. Her pain was horribly discreet but as persistent and almost as silent as bleeding from an unstitched wound.”

“I don’t rise from the ashes, I make them. I’m the whole fucking fire.”

“Beautiful but destructive.”

“I’m aiming for the ‘she’s a badass and cute as hell but I wouldn’t touch her without asking’ look.”

“Loving me must be so fucking hard and I’m so sorry.”

“Some women are lost in the fire. Some women are built from it.”

“You glow differently when you’re actually happy.”

“She’s magic, that one.”

“Kicked out of Hell.”

“Red hair: the crown you never take off.”

“You’ve got a fire inside.”

“She doesn’t need a warrior, she is one. What she needs is a devout heart, and strong arms to hold her after her battles are won.”

“You are the love that came without warning: You had my heart before I could say no.”

“You want battle? I’ll give you war.”

“True evil is, above all things, seductive.”

“The Devil’s got nothing on me, my friend.”

“Haven’t I fallen far enough?”

“I’m not like them, but I can pretend.”

“I don’t like being told what to do.”

“Now I grow wings and rage, and learn how to kill.”

“Life is tough, my darling, but so are you.”

“Though she be little, she be fierce.”

“I know what this is; It’s just myself, talking to myself, about myself.”

“You underestimate my power.”

#roleplay memes #rp memes #roleplay sentence starters #sentence starters #rp starters #sentence memes

76 notes · View notes

holycatsandrabbits · 3 years

Text

Love’s Endless Light: A Good Omens serial romance

READ FROM THE BEGINNING

NEXT: Coming soon

Chapter 11: In Love's Safekeeping

2019, Mayfair, London, England

Aziraphale sat on Crowley’s uncomfortable black couch and watched Crowley pace about his flat, bouncing on his feet even though he was so visibly tired. There had been a stain on the floor when they’d arrived, holy water and what had been the demon Ligur. Aziraphale had cleaned it carefully, but he thought he could still smell the holy aura in the air.

Crowley looked thin and pale and a cross between anguished and deliriously happy. There was a smile that kept stealing onto his face, before he chased it away.

“I suppose,” Aziraphale said quietly, bravely, “we should have gone faster. If this was going to be the end of it, so soon.”

That smile worked its way onto Crowley’s mouth again. He’d removed his dark glasses, and his snake eyes shone gold. “It’s not the end, angel. Can’t be. We can’t have gotten this far just to lose it.”

Aziraphale felt his tired body tremble with anxiety. “I think that’s— I’m sorry, my dear, but I really think that’s the way this is going to go. And it’s my fault.”

“What are you talking about?”

Aziraphale had sworn he’d never tell Crowley the whole of it, because he was ashamed, because it was useless, because it felt like instead of talking, he would just break open and the words would fall out. But there was no reason to keep it a secret any longer. Not when this was their last night. Crowley deserved to know. “I mean this is my punishment,” Aziraphale said.

Crowley looked bewildered. “For what?”

“For the War in Heaven!” Aziraphale exclaimed. “For saving demons, for giving away my sword. For all the things I’ve done since, rescuing people when Gabriel said not to, writing false reports, healing you. I wasn’t sure until we— until I knew I loved you. But I’m sure now.”

“Sure about what?”

“That I Fell. That I’m Fallen.”

Crowley stared at Aziraphale like he was speaking a language that Crowley had long forgotten. “Show me your wings.”

Aziraphale took a moment to remove his coat, and then miracled holes in his shirt to let the wings erupt forth. They stretched themselves out in the empty space, feathers rustling quietly.

“They’re white,” Crowley said.

“Falling’s not the same for everyone.”

“Yes, it is. You Fall, you become a demon.” Crowley tilted his head in that sharp, snakeline manner he had, showing his demonic aspect clearly. “I would know.”

“I’m being punished,” Aziraphale said, resolutely. “I don’t belong in Heaven. The other angels hate me. The one person who loves me— I can't accept that love. The one person I love— I can't give it. What is that if not Hell? I disobeyed Her, and it pleases Her to punish me like this, an angel in his own personal torment. But the worst part is, She’s punishing both of us. We’re both in this misery and it’s my fault.”

“I’m not in misery,” Crowley said, lightly, quite as if he wasn’t. He crossed the room and sat down on the little coffee table in front of the couch, reaching out to take Aziraphale’s hands in his own. “That’s not what I feel with you. Never has been.”

“We’re going to die tomorrow,” Aziraphale said.

Crowley looked amused. It was beautiful on him, as every happy look was, brightening his eyes, rounding his face. “Really? The angel who guarded demons in the War is going to let Hell get me this time? I don’t think so. And just so you know, I’m not going to let Heaven get you either.”

Aziraphale squeezed his hands, it was too hard not to. They’d held hands on the bus for hours, with no one to notice anymore. “But how—”

“Well, for me, holy water, I’d guess.”

“No,” Aziraphale said forcefully. “Not now, not after everything. I won’t lose you that way.”

Crowley’s smile got larger. “There’s my guardian angel.”

Aziraphale let out a frustrated sigh. “But I—” He looked down at their hands, fitted together, their fingers laced, as if there wasn’t a firm boundary between them, as if they weren’t separate people at all. “I could take your place,” Aziraphale said slowly. “I’ll take the holy water for you.”

“Then I’ll take the hellfire for you,” Crowley said. “And we’ll survive it.” He raised their joined hands and pressed a kiss to their fingers. “Angel,” he said quietly, “this is the reason I go on. This is what saves me, not what damns me. It’s not a punishment, it never has been.”

Aziraphale blinked away the tears that were filling his eyes. “Then why— why haven’t I been punished for what I did? For the War in Heaven? For letting Adam and Eve escape? For everything since?”

“Maybe,” Crowley said gently, “because you’ve been doing the right thing.”

“It can’t be. It was against orders!”

Crowley scoffed. “I don’t see why you think Gabriel always had things right and you always had them wrong. He tried to help cause the end of the world. You wanted to protect the entirety of Heaven, Hell, and Earth. That one’s kind of obvious.” Crowley kissed Aziraphale’s hand again. “I have faith in you, do you know that?”

Aziraphale leaned forward and kissed him. It was softer, a less desperate thing than their first kiss, until Crowley made a little groaning noise in his throat. Aziraphale tugged his hands free from Crowley’s to slide them behind his head, pressing closer.

“Aziraphale,” Crowley breathed against his lips. “I need you.”

“You have me,” Aziraphale promised. He stood up, drawing Crowley up with him, kissing him all the while. Crowley tasted sweet, and he clutched at Aziraphale, sliding fingers into his hair.

Aziraphale had thought that their first kiss had been something hard-fought, like a treasure grasped from the very claws of a beast, a feat that could not be replicated. But here were endless kisses from Crowley, so many that Aziraphale could not count them, given freely.

Aziraphale had thought that if they ever gave into this, one of them pressing the other against the wall, stumbling feet and wandering hands, laughing when their noses bumped, moaning when it was their hips, that it would feel like Falling. Because it was wrong not only to have this, but to even want it.

It didn’t feel wrong. In the same way that it hadn’t felt wrong ever for Aziraphale to stretch out his wings to protect the enemy, to stretch out his hands to heal those the other angels had wounded. It didn’t feel wrong now to fold his wings around Crowley as they kissed, keeping him close and safe. That shouldn’t have been right, by all the rules that Aziraphale had ever been taught.

Apparently, the rules were wrong.

READ FROM THE BEGINNING

NEXT: Coming soon. Crowley's got a little secret he's been keeping from Aziraphale.

Read on Ao3

Updates Fridays on Ao3 and Tumblr.

Want to create fic, art, or other works based on this series? Please do! Just dm or tag me.

Coming August 20: "Tollense," my next serial romance. A history professor falls in love with his best friend, a 3000-year-old vampire.

My previous Good Omens serial: Mr. Fell’s Bookshop

My Carrd

*********

Image text: Love’s Endless Light by Dannye Chase (HolyCatsAndRabbits) Chapter 11

As Aziraphale and Crowley slowly fall in love over the millennia, Crowley discovers that Aziraphale is keeping a very dangerous secret.

#Dannye writes #Love's Endless Light #Good Omens #good omens fanfic

16 notes · View notes

abbybubbls · 3 years

Text

Thinkin about the Amnesiac Angel again

My mind keeps going back to who and what this amnesiac angel is supposed to be for season two. I’ve got SOME theories if it’s gonna be anybody we’ve seen from the first season, so let’s get those out of the way first.

1. Ligur coming back as an angel after the holy water incident?

I really like the concept of a demon coming back as an angel after they get splashed by holy water, but… how would Ligur get amnesia if that could happen? Could it be his chance of redemption so he must forget his demonic deeds? Would he want to remember what he did that made him fall in the first place? Would he fall again if he remembers?

2. Gabriel loses his memories as a punishment for messing with our favorite boys?

I know this is a popular theory for a few people, but it feels a bit too obvious to me for Gabriel to just lose his memories for the sake of losing his memories. I can see how people can think of this as a redemption arc for Gabriel in some way where he can learn to like humanity, but… I really don’t want Gabriel to have a redemption arc at all.

I wanna see Gabriel continue to be his douchey Archangel self so I can love to hate him. Because hating douchey characters can be very fun sometimes, and I like making fun of abusive assholes like Gabriel and calling him a dickweed.

3. The surplus baby/Greasy Johnson as an angel?

This is more of a “What if?” theory of my own because I know the surplus baby was mentioned growing up as Greasy Johnson in the book, but in the show, God said “It would be nice to think that the surplus baby was adopted,” so… stay with me here.

What if he wasn’t adopted? What if he actually was thrown out by the Chattering Order, and he came back as an angel with no memory of who he was supposed to be because he was just a baby when he died?

And from what we know so far, this amnesiac angel goes to Aziraphale’s bookshop for help, so what if Greasy, as an angel, goes to Aziraphale and Crowley for help, and they sort of become godparents again? It also fits with South Downs and what God said about Greasy “winning prizes for his tropical fish”, because South Downs is by the ocean.

4. Agnes Nutter loses her prophecies after exploding?

STAY WITH ME, I THINK I’M ONTO SOMETHING FOR THIS… KIND OF! I don’t know what could exactly cause it, but what if when Agnes Nutter exploded, she suddenly lost her memories and therefore, lost most of her prophecies?

(I did say “kind of”, so Agnes losing her prophecies wouldn’t make much sense if she could still make prophecies when she’s dead. It’s a start for a theory, anyway. Starting theories are always a bit shabby. I’d need to keep thinking about it. Maybe when people die too suddenly, they lose their memories of their life?)

Again, from what we know so far from another summary for s2, the angel is supposed to be a messenger, so Agnes can still predict bits of the future and tell people, but she has no idea why. She hears about Crowley and Aziraphale stopping Armageddon, so she goes down to visit and tell them about her prophecies and visions of the future.

Now onto some theories on if this angel is just their own person and what their arc might be like (if they have one).

The angel fakes their amnesia to trick Aziraphale and Crowley into giving away what they did to survive the holy water/hellfire stuff so Heaven and Hell can go after them again

The angel fakes their amnesia and their original plan is to trick Crowley and Aziraphale, but realizes how much they both care for Earth and humanity, so the angel wants to back out on the plan and join them

The angel has amnesia for real, but is used as a pawn from the Archangels against Crowley and Aziraphale

The angel has amnesia for real, and wants to know who they might be with Aziraphale and Crowley’s help

Crowley and Aziraphale don’t trust the angel but try to help anyway

It’s one-sided where one trusts the angel when the other doesn’t so they can half-help

Aziraphale and Crowley DO trust the angel and try to help

#just some theories #abby chats #good omens #good omens season 2 #amnesia angel #ligur #archangel fucking gabriel #greasy johnson #agnes nutter #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #i wrote most of this past midnight

16 notes · View notes

that-scouse-wizard · 3 years

Text

David/Liz, Demon and Angel AU

Because @adellovesrowan ‘s Angel and Demon AU really got me thinking about David x Liz... I made some more headcanons about them in that AU. Also going to include some additional details on David, hope you guys enjoy!

Warning for description of a transformation.

-Just to get it out there, Liz’s regular form is tall, about 6′4′’. Keep in mind, David is 5′11′’ in his regular form.

-David is from the kingdom of Wrath while Liz is from Patience, so the two are natural enemies/rivals.

-Have frequently butted heads, usually in a verbal spar but occasionally quite literally, much to their superior’s exasperation.

-After Adel and Rowan’s failed execution, David needs to clear his head a bit, so spends some time in the human world, he goes to a zoo. Contrary to popular belief, he has a soft spot for certain animals, especially pack hunters.

-Of course, Liz is there too.

-Things are tense at first given the state of things but at the same time a confrontation between an angel and a demon is the last thing both their kingdoms need right now.

-Liz: “So why are you here?”

-David: “Free time, don’t need to report to my boss, you?”

-L: “Same for me.”

-D: “I won’t tell if you won’t tell?”

-L: “... Let’s do it.”

-So yeah, they spend some time at the zoo, they bond a little bit and agree to meet up again in secret despite the obvious taboo.

-They grow closer, both secretly begin pining for each other but know that if they do they’ll be considered outcasts by their respective societies.

-One of their higher ups find out about their meetings, ordering them both executed.

-When they’re captured, David begs them to let Liz go, she doesn’t deserve this even saying “Please... I love her.”

-The higher up’s response: “Love... is that what you call it? Then allow me to demonstrate its most painful aspect, the more you love someone, the more it hurts when they have to go.”

-Liz is cast into hellfire, David loses sight of her and believes she’s dead, he loses it, beginning his transformation into his frenzied state.

-To reiterate, he grows to 8′5′’, his horns become ram-like, his teeth sharpen as his lower canines elongate, his eyes glow red and his prehensile tail becomes built more for power like a club. Some changes: His lower half begins to resemble a goat, giving him cloven hooves, he still has wings in his regular form they just grow with his size.

The air around him simmers as he transforms saying just one thing, mumbling at first before belting it out when his transformation completes "GIVE! HER! BACK!"

-They try dousing him with holy water but it evaporates as it makes contact with his wings as he shields with them, they now have a white sheen. David has become tainted with purity enough to survive holy water.

Liz emerges from the flames in a hail of embers, her wings now streaked with black, in time to see David tearing whoever cast her into the fire apart.

She shouts for him and he charges at her, but stops short.

Tentatively, he reaches out, touching her face, despite the obvious danger, she leans into the touch and holds his hand.

As David calms down, his features return to normal, now shorter than Liz. David just latches onto her, sobbing in relief from the worry that he'd lost her going away.

Wrapping him in a comforting embrace, she whispers in his ear, "I love you too."

#Harry potter hogwarts mystery #hphm #Jacob's sibling #david willows #liz tuttle #Liz x mc #angel demon AU

15 notes · View notes

aziraphales-library · 3 years

Note

I'm sure you've had this asked before, but what fics would you recommend involving the body swap as a main theme? Thank you in advance!

There were some some bodyswap fics recommended here, but they focused on Aziraphale-as-Crowley in hell. What I have for you here are some general bodyswap-focused fic. Enjoy!...

Measure A Year by theinkwell33 (T)

Crowley and Aziraphale are punished for their role in averting the apocalypse, and are stripped of all miracle privileges for an entire year. This ordinarily wouldn’t be the worst punishment in the world, were it not for the fact that they’ve already swapped bodies in their effort to prepare for the worst. Unable to switch back without miracles, they’re forced to live as each other for an entire year. It goes about how you’d expect.

How Do You Think I’m Going To Get Along Without You When You're Gone? by Pearl09 (T)

When Crowley thinks Heaven would go the extra mile to make Aziraphale Fall now that he has survived Hellfire, he decides to keep Aziraphale's body to try and keep him safe. Except, he doesn't tell Aziraphale that's the reason why. Aziraphale takes it as a betrayal from his closest friend; from the person he loved. Heaven is two steps ahead, though, and Crowley is forced to run back to Aziraphale for help.

The List by olly_octopus (E)

Aziraphale straightens out the crumpled notepaper and skims through it for what seems like the hundredth time. Crowley has a list, just like his, and so he ought to. Amongst the petty comments about not leaving socks lying around and not touching his lipstick, three rules stand out to Aziraphale most of all: Rule one: no being kind to those bloody plants. Rule two: no drinking the 1998 Veuve Clicquot La Grande Dame. Rule three: no masturbating.

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” he murmurs to himself, like a liar.

***

The Body Swap situation requires rules; something similar like one would receive when house-sitting. But what are rules if not made to be broken?

Look Down by Lurlur (T)

“So, what’s it to be?” he asked drolly, eyebrows raised in simple inquiry, “an eternity at the bottom of the deepest pit?” Beelzebub grinned nastily, and the flies swarming about zir head seemed to buzz in excitement. Beside the Prince of Hell, Hastur looked mutinous, his hands clenched into tight fists. “Exactly,” Beelzebub said, still grinning.

Aziraphale stands in for Crowley at his trial, expecting death by holy water. He was wrong.

If I Were You by Kirathaune (T)

Aziraphale and Crowley may have survived their trials, but their bosses had a nasty surprise for them—taking their memories away just as they stepped out of Heaven and Hell.

easier than air with air (if spirits embrace) by asideofourown (T)

Crawley felt a tingle against his palms, and realized with a jolt of dread that Aziraphale was trying to smite him, to overload his damned soul with so much blessing that he’d be drained of his power. There was only one thing he could think of to do, only one option— because he couldn’t transform and get away, he wouldn’t be quick enough, and Aziraphale’s blessing had already transitioned from tingling to pressure—

Crawley pushed back, trying to curse and tempt and damn— pushing against Aziraphale, meeting Heavenly power with his own Hellish magic— fighting back against the holiness with his unconsecrated, corrupting super evil power—

And then he was staring at his own face, his snakish eyes confused, red hair long and tangled and windswept. “What—?” Crawley said, and his voice wasn’t his own, it was Aziraphale’s—

[Five times Aziraphale and Crowley swap bodies, and one time they don't]

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #bodyswap #mod d

57 notes · View notes

new-endings · 4 years

Text

fic idea # 735 - Parasite AU

or But it was all just a metaphor

((in the good omens universe, some demons including beelzebub, hastur, and ligur have animals on their heads, and it's popularly postulated that these are their true forms. but what if these creatures are the "demon"— sinister, insidious things—that have taken over the empty vessel of a fallen angel?

the "demon" itself is a parasite. it latches onto these fallen angels, no longer protected and shielded by Her and it feeds off the remains of their divinity, their souls, until what's left is an empty husk.

when the first angels fell, their transformation to demons didn't happen simultaneously. the fall, yes, the pain, the loss of Her Grace, Her love—ripped open and left to fall at different speeds, that was within an instant—

but not the transformation.

not quite.

but crowley...crowley’s a bit different. he has a mark of a snake. he can transform into a snake. this can mean that sometimes— sometimes, the parasite can fully take over. but not always.))

the being known as crowley has been staving off a complete transformation for millennia. he doesn't quite know how he's managed for so long—maybe because he'd always been different from the other fallen. maybe different enough to see the creature and instead offer it a deal.

after all, who would want to fully animate a celestial vessel full-time?

or maybe it's because of the strange little angel by his side, the brightest, warmest Light he'd known since the vaguest memories of Heaven—that when the parasite first saw him, there upon the garden's wall—even it was drawn instantaneously and slithered up by pure instinct.

crawley, as he was called at the time, didn't know why. all he knew was that he had to make painfully, awkward conversation with the strange angel up there as the parasite suddenly receded back into the crevices of his soul, leaving the fallen to quietly basked in the strange angel's Grace.

it happened again and again as time marched forward and the humans populated the earth. always, always, the parasite would find the angel but always retreated leaving—now crowley— to deal with him and now…

crowley grew accustomed. crowley grew comfortable. and crowley grew to look forward to these meetings.

yet the more he saw him, the bolder the parasite would be. what was stretches of epochs between meetings became once every few centuries—and then Rome happened.

crowley had been miserable. and then this angel— his angel, something purred at the back of his mind— invited him for lunch, a little "temptation" of his own making.

there was a thunderstrike of realization and crowley understood then what this parasite wanted.

it wanted this angel to fall.

crowley thinks for thousands of years that the parasite wants aziraphle to fall so it can take over the principality as its host instead of crowley. after all, to crowley, aziraphale is pure light, unlike anything crowley's ever seen. of course he’d attract it like a beacon, finding him far more appetizing than the charred remains of crowely’s own dwindling light he has to offer.

and it's no secret that aziraphale...doesn't...always excel at his job. the poor dear tries but… he’s the living example of “the road to hell is paved with good intentions.” he tried to rent out the entire inn for mary and joseph— he ends up forgetting to tell the innkeeper who the rooms are for, forcing the son of God to be born in a manger. he tried to avert the whole "Nero disaster” by turning the boy's aspirations to music for God's sake. that’s not to say that aziraphale was incompetent—but every flaw cataloged by heaven made crowley more and more nervous.

so the arrangement was born. crowley could take over his jobs for him—and so aziraphale can bungle up his jobs in turn. that way aziraphale can get a double commendation for doing his work properly— and for inadvertently messing things up with the other side.

((doesn't work. aziraphale absolutely excels at being a demon. he carries out temptations flawlessly. this is a great source of stress on crowley for centuries))

in the 1800s, crowley and aziraphale have a massive fight. crowley asked aziraphale to get him some holy water. a single drop is enough to kill a demon. crowley asked this for protection, in case the agents of hell found out about their arrangement.

and aziraphale denied him because it would be too dangerous, but what's interesting-- what's really interesting--

is that aziraphale's immediate reaction was to call the holy water "a suicide pill!" in this iteration, the context can have a very, very different meaning in that aziaphale is right: crowley would intend to use it on himself. aziraphale knows crowley by now. has known him for millennia. and he's right. it's a last resort if crowley ever feels that his control slips, that the parasite takes over, he has to have a way to take care of the problem before aziraphale becomes targeted by the creature lurking inside him.

and crowley does slip.

when crowley runs into the burning bookshop, reaches out and pleads to the parasite's senses to comb through the fire and ash in the air, and screams out that he can't feel aziraphale anywhere—that's when his control crumbles.

he's given up.

he's lost his angel.

there was nothing left in this world now. nothing left to do but to let the wars rage.

so he gives in. this vessel is his.

((from there, it’s a canon divergence from when aziraphale comes to the bar, seconds too late as the creature takes over. notice how hastur was scared of crowley during his drive through the wall of flames? he could likely smell exactly what crowley had become now.

canon events still occur with crowley acting...acting just a smidge off. a little less dramatic. a little ...darker.

but he's there at the airbase, willing to stand by his angel's side. this demon's been waiting for millennia to have that angel for himself. so he stands his ground. he won't waste the golden opportunity.

the meddling fallen...

maybe a fragment of him still exists in there.

maybe he's there when he sees their angel, their sweet, clever, wicked thing propose the switch

maybe he's there at the crevices of his mind when he spits hellfire at the archangels and rejoices with him as they burn.

maybe he's there when he takes their angel—his angel, has always been his angel— to bed, marking him, branding him, inside and out.

maybe he's there when aziraphale sighs in the quiet dark and says "I love you, Crowley..."

and maybe he's there when the demon smiles, sharper than before, and with a glow in his eyes more triumphant than the angel had ever seen.

"I've always loved you, Aziraphale."

in the events following the botched armageddon, its mask is slipping. for a while, it tries to uphold its persona as "crowley" but of course, it's not crowley. not completely. both crowley AND the parasite coexist to form the entity that aziraphale knows and loves.

he's…crueler. more dangerous. protective. possessive. he always knows where aziraphale is and of course a part of it is because he obviously is concerned for the angel's safety. the ruse won't be kept hidden forever, after all.

but it's more than that.

the fallen known as crowley thought that maybe being around aziraphale has kept the parasite at bay—but no, no he was wrong.

the only thing that kept the creature at bay had been crowley himself. when the parasite saw the angel for the first time, it slithered its way to the wall and crowley's immediate instinct was to take back the reins.

and the creature let it.

the deal they made was that crowley gets free reign to do as he pleases, but the demon can take control to have its fun in its own time. a bit like clocking in and out of work: many of the horrors humankind had made were indeed makings of their own.

but some were not without a bit of demonic influence when crowley wasn't around.

((there's a reason why crowley's so fond of sleep))

so when he tells aziraphale that he's been "asleep" it may or may not mean mean that the parasite has been taking his skin out for a spin.

so why didn't the parasite simply take aziraphale during these times?

well for one, crowley would most likely take control again. the creature may sense the angel's whereabouts, but crowley has his own special sense to know when aziraphale is in danger.

the other reason...is that he needs this fallen to court him.

win the angel over with his company, effortless banter, and teasing words all while the creature watched and learned, mimicked and mocked. it's a parasite— it doesn't know much about romancing and sweet-worded affections

but it knows quite a bit about getting what it wants.

((or maybe this was all just a metaphor of crowley's more demonic nature. he doesn't embrace "evil" and "sin" the way other demons do. and a large part of that is because he retains who he was before the fall. he didn't "fall" as much as he "vaguely sauntered downwards.” he was afraid of hell. he wanted to be here, on earth, with his angel and the humans he'd found equal parts amusing and equal parts frustrating. he didn't want to embrace what he'd become.

but the moment aziraphale turned him away for the last time, the moment he'd lost his angel-- something in him might have broken. it's no longer a sense of keeping propriety, it's now a matter of survival

yes, he's scared of hell. but now, he's more scared of losing aziraphale.

maybe the parasite was all in his head.

maybe he created it as a way to dissociate himself from the reality of his fall. maybe he and the parasite are one in the same.

and it's only now— now, after the very frightening reality of having lost aziraphale once— that he's willing to use whatever means he has to make sure aziraphale stays with him—

by his side.

like he's meant to be. like he was always supposed to be.

or maybe that's just what the parasite wanted him to believe))

#good omens #ineffable husbands #ineffable partners #fic idea #dark crowley #but not really #or is it #secondary title is from rironominds colourless saitama and his years of training #i just really love that title

34 notes · View notes

obsidiancreates · 5 years

Text

Gray Area

(Okay so I had one idea about Aziraphale and Crowley’s wings turning gray since they’re truly no longer on either side and then I thought about what if they never did the body swap thing and... ta-da!)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aziraphale tried not to show his panic. He made himself look confident, defiant, unapologetic. Inside he was falling apart.

Worse, he was sure that down in Hell they were about to kill Crowley.

They had tied him to a chair. The room was terribly empty, just white floors and walls and windows with light that was far too bright shining through.

He wasn’t sure when the light of Heaven had become too bright for him. It used to upset him, the way it stung his eyes as he gave reports of his activities on Earth. It made him feel... as though he didn’t belong. As though he wasn’t a proper angel.

He knew now that was accurate, of course. He also knew that he didn’t mind that it was accurate. He didn’t belong, and why would he want to belong with these people anyway? The light did still upset him, but now for other reasons.

His last moments, and the final thing he would see was some overexposed angels smirking at him.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Crowley smirked at the other demons. “Nice place here. A bit bare though. Going minimalist, are we?”

He may have been about to be punished, likely never to be seen or heard from again, but he’d be double-damned if he wasn’t going to go with style. He was Crowley, after all. Everything had to have some flair to it.

“Yes, we are,” Beelzebub said, their emphasis on the we making it very clear that Crowley was not included in it. “Webuilt this place for you specially. It shall be your place of trial, and it shall be your place of destruction.”

Crowley rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses. He may be dramatic, but at least he was an interesting dramatic. “So what’ll it be then?” he said as nonchalantly as he could, hoping to piss the other demons off as much as possible before he went. “An eternity in the deepest pit?”

He had a feeling that was it. Hell loved it’s torture, after all.

“No no,” said Hastur, a grin forcing it’s way onto his face. It didn’t suit him, not at all, and Crowley leaned away from him slightly. “We’re going to do something even worse. Letting the punishment fit the crime.”

Crowley became aware of footsteps echoing down the hall he’d been lead down just moments ago. Purposeful, quick, but in a way that screamed of discomfort. He turned to watch the doorway.

Micheal walked through.

“Well, that’s unlikely,” he muttered, unable to stop the words before they escaped him. He noticed the pitcher in Micheal’s hands.

Holy water.

So they were going to kill him then. Well, he should have expected as much. Of course...

He froze. Heaven and Hell were working together, and that meant... “What have you done with Aziraphale?”

He heard Beelzebub laugh from behind him. “You two seemed so desperate not to live without each other...”

“So we decided to do you both a favor and not make either of you go through that,” Micheal finished, unable to hide the satisfied glint in their eye. “We thought it merciful,” she lied right through her pearly white teeth.

“And we thought it would kill you to know your little lover boy was going to die because of you,” Beelzebub said. At least they had the decency to be honest about it, not like that helped anything.

Aziraphale was going to die.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Ah, Aziraphale.” Gabriel’s voice boomed from behind. He walked into view, and Aziraphale resisted the urge to glare at him. If he was going to die, he was going to die with dignity.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t be just a little sassy. Crowley would sass them. He would do his demon proud.

“You could have just sent a message. A kidnapping, in broad daylight?”

Gabriel shrugged and turned to Uriel. “Have we heard from our new associate?”

“He’s on his way.”

Gabriel grinned. “I bet you’re going to like this. I really do! And I bet you didn’t see this one coming.”

Aziraphale clenched his jaw. ‘Hellfire,’ he thinks, ‘You’ve somehow gotten ahold of Hellfire.’

And then he noticed Micheal’s absence. And a chill ran�� up his spine.

“You don’t get this view down in the basement!” a voice said. A demon walked over, walked on the grounds of Heaven, and smirked at Aziraphale. The demon threw his hands out, and Hellfire shot out at a small circle marked on the floor. The fire went up, twisting into a tornado, and Aziraphale could almost feel his hair singe from where he sat.

“So, with one act of treason you avoided the war. You ruined our entire plan, everything we’ve worked towards for six thousand years.” Gabriel was barely concealing his anger as he spoke.

“Well, I think the greater good-” Aziraphale tarted, knowing he was about to push Gabriel over the edge.

“Don’t talk to me about the greater good sunshine, I’m the Archangel fucking Gabriel!”

Unfortunate placing of the f-word, Aziraphale thought, but he didn’t mention it. Instead he frowned and said, “We’re meant to be the good guys, for heaven’s sake!”

“Well, for Heaven’s sake, we’re meant to make examples out of traitors. So, into the flame.”

The ropes around his arms were removed, and Aziraphale stood up. He straightened his bow tie, his hands shaking more then he thought they ever could. He swallowed. “Well... lovely knowing you all. May we meet on a better occasion,” he said, giving them a small smile, determined to take the high road.

“Shut your stupid mouth, and die already.” Gabriel gave the most ingenuine smile ever to exist.

Aziraphale’s own smile fell away. He looked at the fire and closed his eyes. He stepped in.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Crowley watched Micheal pour the holy water into the bathtub. She could have just miracled it full, but no. No, they had to make a show of it. He could appreciate that, to a degree, but all he could think about was what was happening up in Heaven.

Micheal poured the last of the water. She left the room, and Beelzebub grinned. “Go ahead. Any last words?”

Crowley looked at the tub. Holy water... this was really it. He was... he was really about to die. Forever. He pushed down his feelings and smirked. “This is a new jacket, and I’d hate to ruin it.”

He pulled his jacket off, and his pants, watching as the other demons rolled their eyes. At least he was irritating them. He took his glasses off last.

“Go on already,” Beelzebub prompted. “Or I’ll have Hastur push you in.”

‘I’m sorry Angel,’ Crowley thought. And he got in.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aziraphale had expected agony. He had expected intense burning, the pain of having every atom of your being burning up, just unspeakable pain.

He hadn’t expected it to feel rather like a sauna. A sauna that was a bit too hot, but a sauna nonetheless. He cracked his neck and sighed. It was almost nice, really.

He opened his eyes. He still had eyes to open, which was very unexpected but he couldn’t complain. Gabriel and the other angels in the room were staring at him, wide-eyed, all of them much farther back then they had been when he’d stepped in.

He smiled at them. His wings felt especially warm, and they stung quite a bit.

“It may be worse than we thought,” Gabriel said.

Aziraphale’s wings stung more, and began to hurt a bit. He brought his wings in front of him.= to see what was wrong.

They smoldered at the tips, the feathers smoking and graying. He watched the fire flick at his feathers, white singeing to gray, the smoke of the bottom feathers staining the ones higher up.

They were... a soft gray, somehow. Almost silver. The tips of the feathers on the edges were a dark, smoky gray, but the rest were light, pleasant. He rather liked them.

Maybe... maybe if he was okay, he could dare to hope...

“Well,” he said. He looked up and beamed. “It seems that The Almighty has other ideas for me.” He wasn’t sure if that was true, but he wanted the other angel’s to believe it. “Thank you for the fire, I was feeling a bit chilly. May I take my leave now?”

Gabriel nodded, slowly, his lips parted in shock. “I think that would be best.”

“Thank you.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Crowley flicked the water at the window, watching with glee as the demons behind it scrambled away. Even the walls sizzled where the water hit them.

But he was fine. His skin was a bit red and irritated, but he was fine! “I don’t suppose anyone here has a rubber duck?”

Hastur just stared, not blinking. Beelzebub and Dagon had both stepped back to avoid Crowley’s splashing. “He’s not one of us, anymore,” Beelzebub said.

Crowley brought his wings out, just to see how much they’d spray the water everywhere with their unfurling. But as they curled around him in order to fit in the tub, he noticed something.

As holy water dripped down his wings it left streaks, streak of gray amongst his other pitch-black feathers. The water stayed clear and pure, but it was... almost like it was washing his wings.

Hastur made a choking sound. Beelzebub ran to the window, where all the demons of Hell (or at least, the ones who were best at shoving through crowds) were gather, watching with open mouths.

“What are you looking at! Nothing to see here, nothing to see!”

Crowley leaned back into the tub. He stared as his feathers lightened in the water, becoming a dark gray, like a stormy cloud. They were even lighter in the places that the droplets had dripped down, streaks of near silver.

He grinned. Oh, he grinned.

Because perhaps, perhaps, if a demon could survive a bath in holy water, an angel could survive Hellfire.

Of course, he wasn’t really a demon anymore, was he?

“I came for the- oh, Lord.” Micheal froze, mouth agape.

Crowley was still grinning. “Micheal! Miracle me a bath towel, would you? This has been nice,” he hissed the last word, “But I think I’m done.”

Micheal handed him a towel, pure white and fluffy as can be. She jumped a bit when he reached out to grab it.

“I think,” he said, sitting up and flicking holy water at the remaining demons in the room, “That it would be best if I was left alone for a while.”

Hastur had backed away so far that he was pressed against the opposite wall, his hands opening and closing like he was trying to claw through it to get even further away. Dagon and Beelzebub stood to the side, still, silent. They nodded. Crowley turned his yellow eyes to Micheal, who smiled nervously and nodded too.

Crowley smirked. “Right.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aziraphale shut the door to his bookshop and leaned against it. He closed his eyes, breathing heavily as he slid down. He miracled the door locked and curtains closed.

He brought out his wings to look at them again.

They were... quite beautiful, in his opinion.

The darkened edges of the outer feathers, the way the lighter ones were pale but still clearly not white, the way they gleamed like silver when the light hit them but seemed to be a simple soft gray when it didn’t...

They were not the wings of an angel, but not the wings of a demon, and he quite liked that.

He stood up and walked to his phone. He was still shaking a bit, and as he dialed Crowley’s number it got worse.

What if he had been wrong, and the demon hadn’t...

He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. He wouldn’t allow himself to go there.

He was just one number away from calling when he heard the door open, and a familiar voice shout “Angel!”

His heart raced. He dropped the phone and ran into the main room. “Crowley!”

Without a thought he ran at the demon and pulled him into a hug. Crowley froze, stiffed, but after a moment he hugged back.

They’d never hugged before. But Aziraphale didn’t care, and clearly neither did Crowley. They held each other for a long time, just... happy.

Finally Crowley pulled away, gently, and Aziraphale did too.

“Angel,” Crowley said, taking off his glasses. “I- I’m glad you’re okay.”

“And I’m glad you are, my dear.”

Crowley’s eyes shifted, and Aziraphale realized that he hadn’t put away his wings. “Ah, yes, it um, it seems the Hellfire had a bit of a... a side effect?” he tried. “I quite like them, truthfully.”

“I do too,” Crowley said. He stepped back and smiled. “What do you think of mine?”

He got out his wings, and Aziraphale gasped. They were a beautiful dark gray, with streaks of lighter gray that, Aziraphale noted with surprise but joy, matched Aziraphale’s own.

“They’re gorgeous,” he breathed. He laughed a bit. “Do you think... do you think this is because we’re on our side now? Do you think She may have had something to do with it?”

“Who know? Who cares? We’re free, Angel. We can do anything!”

Aziraphale looked his demon, or whatever he was now, in the eyes. “Anything,” he repeated, grinning. “Well... how about we start with lunch? At the Ritz?”

Crowley grinned back. “Sounds good to me.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(I am very proud of this! Look at these boys! Living it up! After this the Ritz scene from the show happens, and yeah! They just go about happy! Whoo-hoo!)

@victory-cookies @a-humble-narcissus

#Good Omens #ineffable husbands #anthony j crowley #aziraphale #fluff #good omens fanfiction #fanfic #my attempts at fanfic #my AU

2K notes · View notes

namechange4integrity · 4 years

Text

ok. I’ve just recently reread a fic called “possession” by spunknbite on ao3(really interesting and rad fic, though it’s got smut in it so beware) about aziraphale letting crowley possess him so he can show the demon how much he adores him and it got me thinking about the other fics I’ve read abt crowley and aziraphale interacting w each others’ souls(namely “birds of a feather” by idiopathicsmile also on ao3, fantastic fic, probably one of my favorites. It’s a cute nesting fic where at the end they do this funky version of angel sex that involves temporarily melding divine essences. but even if it is probably the closest equivalent to sex for angels, it’s not a particularly smutty fic. go read it now!! please!! it’s only 3600 words long!!!!) as well as the scene at the bar when aziraphale had just gotten discorporated and said offhandedly “pity I can’t inhabit yours. but angel, demon...we’d probably explode” which in turn got me thinking real hard about one question:

why don’t aziraphale and crowley’s essences repel each other? surely ethereal and occult forces don’t mix at all, because if they did, then hellfire and holy water wouldn’t be such a problem would they?

well, to understand where I’m going with this, you need to remember how celestial forces work. as long as the being has enough imagination and willpower, they can influence their surroundings quite a bit. we obviously see this through the use of miracles, but we also see this in three other examples: crowley’s flat, crowley’s drive in the bentley through the flaming M25, and adam’s powers. in crowley’s flat, I believe it’s mentioned somewhere in the book or briefly in the show that although crowley has no speakers, bass, or anything of the like for his flatscreen, the noise from the TV comes out like he does simply because he believes that’s how it works(forgive me if this bit isn’t valid!! I swear the other two are!!). same with the flaming bentley: crowley focuses extremely hard on imagining the bentley is completely fine, not falling apart from fire at all, good as it was when he first got it, and forcing himself to believe it against all odds, and as a result the bentley is able to take him all the way to the tadfield airbase without melting and falling apart into bits. and of course adam, who after reading anathema’s magazines and immediately believing what he finds is true, unwittingly bends reality to his whims and causes a whole continent to rise from the pages of some dubious magazine and into undeniable real existence.

all of this is because of belief backed up by willpower.

now, consider this: angels and demons are conditioned to hate each other, and in turn their essences repel each other. their souls, whether divine or demonic, are the core of a celestial being, and therefore embody the most unadulterated versions of themselves. so if an angel hated all demonkind with everything they had(as they are told to do from those in power who first held the belief; i.e. the archangels, satan, beelzebub, and the dukes of hell) it would only be natural that their soul would unreservedly reflect that, reacting to protect itself from something it believes so wholeheartedly is repulsing. however, crowley and aziraphale aren’t like their peers, and we see as much from the very start. an angel like the one I mentioned before would likely try attacking crowley the moment he slithered up the wall, or at least take a protective stance and speak with caution and disgust. and a demon with the same amount of zeal would probably try manipulating aziraphale, twisting his guilt and his nerves towards the side of sin. but, since crowley is crowley and aziraphale is aziraphale, they remain cautious of one another, but don’t actively repel one another, whether in essence or behavior. and that’s the main point of all of this; aziraphale and crowley aren’t disgusted by each other, not even really at their first meeting as Guardian of the Eastern Gate and Serpent of Eden, First Tempter. so by the time they’d get the chance to go down on each other’s souls(likely after the apocawasn’t and, of course, while they’re madly in love with each other) their essences would feel nothing but safe and content to be as close as possible. they believe the other is no threat to their life or well-being(quite the opposite, really), and because they believe it, it is real.

though, that makes me wonder: if all of the above is true, would aziraphale and crowley have been able to survive their punishments even without a body swap?

#good omens #good omens meta #anthony j crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #feel free to respond to this meta w your thoughts!!#I'd love to hear them!!!#especially your thoughts on the last question #lmao I'm abt to queue this and it's quarter til 4am skjdhfjsdhf #big brain at almost 4am !!! hehagjhadkjehhhe!!!!!!#lowkey though it's my dream to be part of one of those long metas #w a bunch of very well articulated and insightful analyses frome incredibly clever people #probably won't happen anytime soon but this post still makes me really proud!!

50 notes · View notes