#but crowley showed him it is good and wonderful in its own way

[wearecrowley]

[positively-mine]

You’re a girl?!

how the twst boys find out you’re a girl & their reactions

tags: afab, accidental touches

a/n: very much self indulgent BUT I COUNDNT STOP THINKING 🤔 what if because it was a boys school that they didn’t have skirts and basically Crowley just made you wear the uniform & you didn't tell anyone. Like epel and lilia’s case, they just thought you were a feminine guy (p.s I just started and I haven’t read any spoilers, except for some info from reddit so I’m very sorry if this has already been covered/ revealed) very gacha coded but PLSSSSS bear this brain rot with me

Some spoilers: until book 3

Series: ❤️ 🧡 🩵 💛 💜 💙 💚

Ace

This can go two ways. Firstly, is that he was chasing deuce or Grimm around and you happen to be walking around the corner. And BAM. You’re both on the ground with him on top of you, caging you into his arms. With both his hands conveniently placed on two lumps on your chest. It takes him a good 3 seconds of staring and squeezing before he realises what they are. What you are. Immediately feels embarrassed and starts screaming and scarmbling to get up.

Orrr he has gotten so used to coming into ramshackle house as he pleases and barges into your room without knocking. You’re both guys, so what’s the problem? Big mistake. Because you’re changing and literally only in your under garments. He’s all red and hot faced before he’s running out of your room and the house into the walkway to calm himself down.

The next time he faces you, he’s apologising while avoiding eye contact. He knows you’ve been through thick and thin together but it really did feel as though his whole world view was shattered when he found out. When he’s hanging out with you, he’s much more careful of where he places his hand and tries to look out for you. Definitely tried to act more manly as well, like when there's an overblot about to happen he either pushes you behind him or blocks you with his body..

Deuce

The way i see this going down is that he’s got his gangster mode on from whatever trouble he’s gotten himself into (or for convenience sake; the broken eggs in book 1). And he’s trying to push you away to stop you from stopping HIM from picking a fight. And something soft hits his forearm. He turns to look at you chest before he quickly realises. He’s screaming like a banshee while moving as far away as he can from you. The initial quarrel was forgotten and now his head is spinning. Thoughts like “what would my mother think if she knew what i did??”, “HES A GIRL?! I MEAN SHE” and so on. The walk back to the kitchen is so quiet that you could basically hear Grimm’s grumbling all the way from Heartsbyul kitchen. Once you arrived back at the kitchen, the guys are wondering why its so quiet between you two but pay no mind to it.

He gets awkward around you every once in a while when realises how close the two of you are but still tries to make up for it. Also becomes more diligent in trying to withhold his gangster personality. He doesn’t want to show anymore of his nasty side to you when he can show you how well he can treat you. Lest he wants to lose you to some other guys…

Trey

This one's tough. I don't know if he has sisters so let's just say that he has. He's one of the first few to realize that you're a girl, being the ever observant person that he is. He sees the pattern when you start getting a little bit more emotional than you are. Snapping at Adeuce and Grimm when you're usually much more patient, getting upset at small things or when he catches you tearing up when you talk about returning to your own world. Yeah he definitely knows.

So it's no surprise when you start to receive more baked treats from him and he's piling up all sorts of nutritious food onto your plate when you sit together. The others are wondering why he's doing that when you're capable of doing it yourself. It's only after several months of this treatment that you realize he knows that you're a girl. And when you confront him about it, "I can't help but want to take care of you when I see you".

Riddle

I like to think that you’re having tea together. He’s invited you to another one of their dorm’s many reason to have tea. Grimm and Ace are fighting for the last cookie and accidentally knock into you as you pick up your teacup. Splashing the liquid all over your dress shirt. Riddle is of course, furious. Rule #363, never spill your tea. Especially on a Tuesday. He’s screaming at them both when his eyes move to check if you’re okay. And that’s when he sees some blue peeking out at the wet area of your shirt. It takes him a quick second to march over to you and drape his blazer over you. “You should go back and change. Make sure to take a warm bath unless you want to catch a cold.” You nod at him confusedly. He watches as you make your way down the steps. He turns to the rest of the members with pink tinted cheeks. “Unfortunately this tea party will have to be cancelled,” and he quickly turns back to walk to his dorm before anyone can say anything.

The next time you see him, his cheeks are tinted pink and he’s trying very hard to not make eye contact with you. Overall, most of your relationship stays the same except that he’s inviting you over for tea more often. But this time its just the two of you. And his excuse? It changes every time. Sometimes its because he says he wants to talk about Adeuce and Grimm’s behaviour, and sometimes it’s because he wants your thoughts on which tea set is better.

Cater

For his case, it's not that he found out, rather he overheard it from a rowdy pair of first years and a cat. He was walking to his next class and about to turn around the corner when he overheard their not so very hushed conversation. His eyes widen very similarly to the saucers that they use for tea. He's kind of upset that he didn't find out himself, but learned it through someone else. Oh well. It's a win-win situation for him anyways.

So when he starts being much more clingier to you and offering to walk you to your classes do you start to get suspicious. He’s always coming over to sit together at your table and visiting you at Ramshackle more. Lounging on the beaten up sofa while you do whatever work you have to. Keeping you company for as long as he can. Or at least until Riddle calls him back or you kick him out. Whichever comes first.

Now imagine there’s a celebration of some sort and he’s excitedly running up the steps to Ramshackle to formally invite you as his date. “I’ve got a surprise for you,” he smiles cheekily. And from behind him he pulls out a beautiful dress. “Will you be my date?” No misunderstanding his gestures now.

reblogs appreciated!

[ao3cassandraic]

Kayfabe: A Good Omens meta

"Kayfabe," in wrestling, is the performance (including outside the wrestling ring) of whatever storyline is being woven around the wrestlers. Breaking kayfabe is Serious Business for a wrestler; the illusion is part of the event. If you ever wondered how John Cena could anchor an entire HBO miniseries brilliantly, kayfabe is a big part of the answer.

Because of their histories and how their respective Head Offices treat them, Crowley and Aziraphale approach their version of kayfabe -- their whole "I am an angel! You are a demon! We're hereditary enemies!" schtick, also their "we are good bad proper little footsoldiers, honest, Boss" schtick to their respective Head Offices -- very, very differently.

I promise there's a point to this. I PROMISE. But let me walk through it first.

Both of them know that one awkward question to Upstairs at the wrong moment and its Fallsville. Crowley, however, knows a couple of things that Aziraphale doesn't have to:

Punishment isn't just once; in some ways, the Fall is never over. Beelzebub or Hastur can throw you in the Dung Pits whenever, after all, or feed you to a Hellhound, or zap you like an Eric. Crowley's lot do not send rude notes. (s2: we do not know what happened to Crowley after Hell dragged him back at the end of the Resurrectionists 'sode, but I think it safe to say it was not great for Crowley. Litotes: your key to quality meta.)

Downstairs can and does check in -- or drag Crowley Downstairs for a chat and possibly a bit of idle torture -- whenever they feel like it. Downstairs seems pretty disorganized, especially its leadership, so I'd expect ad-hoc surprise inspections from them. Downstairs can invade Crowley's flat's TV, his Bentley's radio, and his very mind to perform those inspections. Crowley is never, ever safe from this. He can't relax. Ever.

Heaven, on the other hand, has 37 levels of scriveners and zero interest in Earth. Talk of "reprimands" and "miracle budgets" and Michael being a stickler and whatnot suggests a formal review process happening on a schedule, governed largely by the dreaded (but quite possibly fake-able or spinnable) "paperwork" rather than direct observation by Aziraphale's peers or superiors. Otherwise, Aziraphale is usually left to his own devices. Remember how startled he is when Gabriel shows up at the sushi restaurant in s1? This is unusual!

(We also know from Muriel that Heaven's records office doesn't seem to get consulted a whole lot. It's possible this just means that first-through-thirty-sixth-level scriveners handle everything, but in my experience of large bureaucracies, it's the folks at the bottom of the hierarchy who invariably get run off their feet first. Don't see why Heaven would be any different.)

Moreover, Heaven's punishments seem pretty light, on the whole? Our angel is so anxious and so sensitive to slights that I'm sure the reprimands aren't fun, and nobody likes a reduced miracle budget... but Heavenly "needs improvement" reviews don't seem to be a patch on the Dung Pits. The real threat is Falling, which is more than horrible enough to serve as deterrent; Heaven doesn't need to add torments.

Moreover moreover, Aziraphale is mostly aligned with his Head Office in a way that Crowley really, really isn't. I'm sure Aziraphale does a lot of his Heaven assignments with a song in his heart and a skip in his step -- it's mostly not smiting or the like. Crowley... probably spends a lot of his work time figuring out how to obey the letter of Hellish law while defying its spirit. Crowley's in far more danger of angering his bosses.

So Aziraphale doesn't have to keep up kayfabe a lot of the time, not even while interacting with Crowley. He can and does save it for the rare occasions Heaven takes a personal interest. Crowley, however, must keep up kayfabe always, whether Aziraphale's there or not. The courage it must have taken that snake to slither up the wall of Eden!

The way Crowley navigates his permanent need for kayfabe is twofold. First, his all but instinctive refusal to accept any positive word or compliment about himself or his actions from anyone ever -- "I'M NOT NICE!" If Hell were ever to hear someone characterizing Crowley that way... That's also why Crowley is a bit less exercised when Jimbriel calls him nice: "nobody'll ever believe you."

Second, a species of Orwellian doublethink: maintaining a running commentary in his head of how he's going to justify any unHellish actions to Hell, since he can never know exactly when he'll have to or what exactly they'll have a bug up their butt (sorry, Beez) about. Even high as a kite on laudanum in the Edinburgh cemetery, Crowley can explain his current justification (in a curiously sober voice -- is Crowley ever really high in that scene? or is it all kayfabe? I lean toward kayfabe) to Aziraphale, "Not kind! Off my head on laudanum, not responsible for my actions."

We can see the kayfabe mismatch play out a few times, and it does appear that Aziraphale gets more concerned for Crowley's safety and more aware of Crowley's need for kayfabe post-Arrangement. That doesn't mean he always remembers, of course -- he wouldn't, he just doesn't have that same desperate need. And, of course, the ineffable walnuts do not communicate, as s2 went to some lengths to point out. I do think kayfabe is part of that -- it's hard for Crowley to be sincere when he's constantly doublethinking, and Aziraphale's off-and-on involvement with kayfabe (and all his other tendencies toward lying) disincline him to achieve or even learn about honest communication.

One s1 scene I went back and rewatched while thinking about this was the Globe scene, which contains Aziraphale's Saint-Peter-esque three-time denial of Crowley. I find it easy now to read that as Aziraphale going "oh crap do I need to drop back into kayfabe now? I didn't break kayfabe, did I?" and Crowley grinning, at least partly as reassurance. (Partly, of course, because Aziraphale is cute and funny even when kayfabing -- and partly because Aziraphale's sudden drop into kayfabe is Aziraphale trying to protect Crowley, of course Crowley's pleased by that.)

The wall pin, now that I think about it, also gains a little nuance from this. Crowley's fear-laced ire is genuine, but how many times must Aziraphale have heard Crowley snarl at him not to break kayfabe in this way? No surprise he's a little unimpressed. (With Crowley's demand. He's clearly very impressed by Crowley.)

In the s2 Job minisode, Aziraphale hilariously drops kayfabe (and that epic whole-body halo, loved that, great job FX folks) almost immediately. Crowley allows it, because Crowley is on firm ground -- Hell will be just fine with Crowley wrapping the angel in a Chuck-Jones-cartoon amount of scroll parchment and flipping him off.

When angel and demon collude on the con later, of course, they observe kayfabe, improv-style -- Crowley helps Aziraphale deal with the Job's-children situation without giving either of them away to the watching angel posse. Interestingly, it's Aziraphale who de-gecko-izes the kids. That gives Crowley an out, sort of: "look, the mansion collapse missed them because they were in the cellar, I turned them into geckos, totally Hellish thing to do, they'd never survive in the wild, but then this bloody interfering angel went and changed them back!"

And how does Crowley console a distraught angel who thinks he's about to be dragged to Hell? Crowley explains kayfabe in the fewest and clearest words possible. "Well, yeah, you did, but... I'm not going to tell anybody. Are you?"

So yeah. That's kayfabe for the Ineffable Walnuts.

But I promised there was a point to this, didn't I? Yes, I have a point.

My point is...

my POINT is...

my point IS...

(not dolphins, not this time)

My point is, how much of s2's Final Fifteen Minutes is kayfabe?

That's my point.

[raggstorice]

FLASH HEADCANONS!

Where I take a fandom and give a Headcanon for Every. Single. Character.

Twisted Wonderland! #1

Here we go!

Riddle: whenever a bug lands on him he freezes. Just stops.

Ace: His parents always shut down his beliefs. Very much a 'Stay in line and You'll be fine' type of family. (If requested I will rant on my HC Ace backstory)

Deuce: He calls his mother every day and one day she just starts crying and is all like 'Im so proud of you. You've changed so much and I love you.' and Deuce started crying too.

Cater: Does not actually care that much about Magicam. He just needed something to base his personality off of.

Trey: Uses southern insults All. The. Time. People talk to him and he's just 'Well good for you!' and people think he's the nicest.

Leona: If you put a weighted blanket on him he will just fall over like that one scene in Lilo and stitch.

Ruggie: Knows everyone. And I mean EVERYONE. Try to introduce him to someone new and he'll just be like 'OMG my old friend!' yeah.

Jack: Named his cactus Paula. Also Talks to it and uses it like a doll. (Like that one scene in DRDT)

Azul: His first experience with a land dweller was when he saw a coin fall from the surface and he followed it. There was a language barrier so he couldn't talk to them. He wonders how they're doing some days.

Jade: Had a bonding moment with Jack over their love for plants (mushrooms and cacti) also eats mushroom-spinach pizza (like me!)

Floyd: He bites. Also he's banned from playing against other schools in Basketball because of the sheer amount of fouls he gets. Jamil is so done.

Kalim: Will summon a rainbow to cheer someone up. He's precious.

Jamil: Doesn't actually hate Kalim. He just needs to be mad at someone. Oh also he cooks for the Basketball club and brings food to practice. Ace is his biggest fan.

Vil: Godly eye makeup. He's the one who gave Rook his feather in his hat.

Epel: Bad Ass Mother Fucker. He prefers to fight with his tounge rather than his fists. The only one to realize Trey's passive aggressiveness.

Rook: Will bring back fresh meat from his hunts. Him and Jade bring the best ingredients to the Cafeteria and no one knows.

Idia: one time he hid from people in an empty classroom for several hours after school. Ortho almost sent a search party.

Ortho: Spends hours analyzing his friends. Like as a hobby. He brings them perfectly planned gifts and they all love it.

Malleus: Lilia cuts his hair. He also polishes his horns. He secretly really enjoys Sebek's loyalty just wished he was quieter.

Silver: Takes care of the horses so well. They love him and will only accept food from him.

Sebek: He can be surprisingly quiet if you ask nicely. He gets loud again if he gets worked up. Autistic.

Lilia: He loves his sons. He ends up taking care of the whole Campus. No one in NRC can take care of themselves properly so he does it. Mockingbird by Eminem coded

Crowley: He shows up randomly and helps students. Lilia is taking a student to the infirmary? He's there and takes them for him. Leona is asleep in the botanical garden? Crowley kicks him away from the path. The teachers are so done with the chaos and are ready to combust? He's there. He will make the chaos worse and somehow contain it at the same time.

Crewel: He stays stocked up on potions ready to help any students that are ill, tired, or in any sort of pain. He will let you sleep in his classroom and will pull you into his office if he thinks somethings up. Many students have cried in front of him.

Trein: Will go out of his way to include history not taught in textbooks. Stuff about gay rights, racism, trans right, war crimes, fun facts about political leaders, etc. He does it all in the most monotone voice ever.

Lucius: The best cat. Used to be a stray wandering campus. Will bring gifts to students it likes. Recognized Leona as one of its own.

Vargas: Always down to help students. Oh you have Asthma? Good thing I have SEVENTEEN EXTRA INHALERS. You seem to be struggling a little why don't you sit down? Exercise without rest is as good as no exercise at all.

Sam: Will give freebies to students who need it. Oh you skipped lunch to study for a test? Good thing I have a sandwich just for you! Your pen broke? Which one do you want? Also will tell you all the tea.

Grim: Whenever he eats those blot crystals he suddenly knows all of the victims trauma which he reports to Yuu.

Yuu: Has serious conversations with Overblot victims. The best non licensed therapist.

Authors Note: It's 1:23 AM. I'm going to sleep.

[vroomvroomwee]

The way Good Omens shows us how unhealthy and detrimental going to the extreme can be. Because look at it.

It's full with contrast. Angel demon. Witchfinder witch. Children against the literal manifestation of death and destruction. Heaven Hell. Etc. Even Crowley and Aziraphale's, as well as Nina and Maghie's, personalities differ from each other.

And especially if you look at Crowley and Aziraphale.

Crowley recognises the system is corrupt and wants to leave it that way, to abandon it. And in some sense he's right. It can't be saved. But that's not a reason to always look the other way and run. Aziraphale meanwhile consistently denies it until he can't anymore. Time and time again he puts his faith in the system which could be the end of him. He's courageous and hopeful that he can save Heaven and fix the system even though the mission is in vain. Neither of them are in the right. One wants to fix the unfixable, the other wants to abandon the inevitable.

One has lost all his faith in the system, while the other refuses to let go of it. Aziraphale, determined to save Heaven, to save the Earth, to save Gabriel, to save Job's children nearly kills himself and hurts Crowley along the way. And Crowley, in his eagerness to escape and find happiness independently from the Earth, pushes Aziraphale away and nearly leaves the world to be destroyed. One goes too fast, and speed runs through life, while the other clings to memories and the past. Neither of them being in the present. Neither of them meeting in the middle.

Which is precisely why Armaggedon was stopped, not by the Good side, or the Bad side, but by a human. A human not exposed to this polarity, but who's seen both Good and Bad and is himself a mixture of both. Adam represents humanity in all its flaws and virtues and saves it in the end. While Heaven and Hell, so convinced in their own purpose and goal, so convinced in their own purity/wickedness lead to the destruction of the Earth.

Paralleling Aziraphales and Crowleys argument, both of them going to the extreme, and ending up breaking their relationship.

The entire point of having a demon that isn't even remotely evil, and having an angel that isn't completely without sin, is to show that going to the extreme is nigh impossible. No one can truly be good and no one can truly be evil. "When Heaven ends life on Earth, it'll be just as dead as if Hell ended it." Both Heaven and Hell so determined to win and defeating the other side, to prove their own righteousness or wickedness, because they believe Heaven and Hell can't coexist, only one must emerge as the victor, so determined that they end up destroying the entire world, meanwhile being no more virtuous or corrupt than the other side.

And on the same note, Heaven and Hell can't exist without the other. "You can't be truly good unless you have the opportunity to be truly wicked." Without Hell, Heaven loses its meaning, and vice versa. They need the existence of the other, which proves that going to the extreme is impossible and would only result in pain and suffering. They need each other to balance each other out, they need the middle ground, the gray area. Whether it be shades of light grey or dark grey.

Now connect that to Aziraphale and Crowley. It's no coincidence that they managed to stop the Apocalypse TOGETHER, both of them on each of Adam's shoulders, converging both good and bad, which they both hold in various shades, together. And only together could they hope to stop the Second Coming.

They "need each other." Aziraphale needs Crowley just as Crowley needs Aziraphale. "Cancel each other out." No... BALANCE each other out. It's no wonder Warlock grew up into a demon child who nearly killed everyone at his birthday party (the book) and trashed the entire place. Because Aziraphale and Crowley were going AGAINST each other, and it was driving Warlock wild. The boy couldn't possibly be truly virtuous or truly evil, so he ends up a mess. Aziraphale and Crowley were going to the extreme and created something that wrecks and destroys.

They need to work together. And my guess is that saving the world in season 3 entails them to bring Heaven and Hell together. To find the middle ground. "Heaven and Hell against humanity." Because if Heaven and Hell continue on like this, there would never be peace on Earth. Just as Crowley and Aziraphale have to come together to fix their relationship.

[leupagus]

Working title is "Aziraphale is going to get a good grade in sex, something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve"

"So!" Aziraphale said, plopping himself down in the chair opposite. "Urophilia."

Crowley glowered at him from behind the safety of his third-best sunglasses and his mug.* He hadn't slept last night — he rarely wanted to, these days — yet it was somehow still too early for this. "No," he attempted.

"I know we neither of us go in for the more, er, granular human bodily functions," said Aziraphale, without even the slightest hint of listening. Crowley took a certain amount of comfort in the fact that he still found this annoying as — well, his former employer's residence. He'd worried, in a vague sort of way, that if Aziraphale came back and they worked things out, became a proper us, that he'd start thinking everything Aziraphale did was wonderful. But even true love had its limits, thank — well, his other former employer's residence. "Did I ever tell you, I tried defecating once? Terribly awkward business, I had to make an anus and everything. But Cicero was very obliging in teaching me about the stick."**

Conversations with Aziraphale tended to fall into one of three categories. Either he was humming away in his default cheeriness, in which case he'd burble happily along with whatever Crowley said for hours on end; or he was in a pet about something, in which case he'd be drier than the desert outside Eden and Crowley'd be lucky to escape without injury to his pride or person. Or he was like this, in which case Crowley's participation was purely decorative.

Still, they were getting some stares. Nina hadn't started tutting yet, but she would do soon. "I'm not pissing on you," he said, firm. "And vice versa."

"Oh, all right," Aziraphale huffed, pulling out his spectacles and wrapping the temple tips fussily around his ears. He peered down at the magazine he'd apparently brought with him; even from here, Crowley could see some illustrations. They were… illustrative.

"What," he said with the conviction that he would regret it, "Is that?"

"It's 'Kinks and Fetishes: An A to Z Guide,'" Aziraphale said, handing it over with all the glee of a dog showing off a rotted tennis ball it had found in the back garden. "I've been doing more research, you see. Apparently, there's all sorts of sex we could be getting up to. I truly had no idea there were so many—" he waved his other hand around vaguely. "Configurations."

"Does Glamour have a print edition anymore?" Crowley asked, thumbing through the pages. There were a lot of illustrations.

"Not as such," Aziraphale admitted. "But Muriel found it for me on the World Wide Web—"

"Don't call it that," Crowley sighed.

"—and you know how I dislike reading off of those… screens," he continued, making a moue of distaste. "So I made my own proof copy, as it were."

Under "Tentacles," there was a stern reminder that you shouldn't have sex with octopuses.*** "Angel," he started, then paused. "Vicarphilia?"

"I thought it was something to do with priests and things, but apparently not," Aziraphale said, leaning over the table to point out the next one. "What about whipping?"

"No fetishes that I could've done professionally," Crowley decided firmly, shutting the magazine. He waved it away, out to the Tadfield Library where Anathama would probably find it and laugh for a week, then try at least a half-dozen of them out on poor Newt.

* Nina had set one aside for him after a while, since he didn't mind the permanent stains that had developed along the inside. "Pretty sure those are scorchmarks, actually," she'd complained. "On the outside. What did you do to it?"

** Roman public toilets were aptly named — men would gather to have a bowel movement and a chat, cleaning themselves off with a sponge on the end of a length of wood. Hence the phrase, "Getting the wrong end of the stick," something decidedly less pleasant when taken out of its metaphor.

*** Accompanied by a picture of a young woman doing exactly that.

[aziraphales-library]

Hello! I was wondering if you knew of any fics where Aziraphale is pampering/spoiling Crowley, showing his love in visible, demonstrable ways, etc. Thanks!

Hi! You might be interested in our #gifts, #wooing, #sick fic, and #sugar daddy au tags to find fics like this. Here are some others where Aziraphale pampers, spoils, and shows his love for Crowley...

Socks by NotEvenCloseToStraight (G)

Based off a post on Tumblr: Azira makes Crowley socks after realizing he'd burned his feet in the church back in 1941 ******************* “You thought I sssauntered into a church filled with Nazis to dance a little jig and distract you all while I pulled missiles from the sssky, is that it?” “It–it was a lovely dance, if that matters, I thought your legs looked wonderful flapping about–” Azira made an unintentionally hilarious gesture miming how Crowley had moved back then. “–very graceful, all things considered.” “All things conssssidered?!” Crowley leapt from the couch in a display much more graceful than Azira’s awkward flailing. “My feet were burning, angel! Or have you forgotten that demons aren’t allowed on consssecrated ground!”

Demon Cough by mango_enjoyer (T)

Crowley hates the discomfort of demonic illnesses and loathes their disgusting cures. Unfortunately, his reckless nature makes him an easy target for strange maladies. Even worse, Aziraphale can’t help fussing over him whenever he grows ill, which makes him feel all the more vulnerable. Crowley can’t always be the one coming to the rescue, though. Would some pampering during a time of weakness really be so bad?

It Starts with a Garden by adelaide_rain (T)

Aziraphale goes to Crowley’s apartment for the first time, and is horrified by how bleak it is. He takes it upon himself to make it a more like a home.

Rosewater by Quilly (G)

Aziraphale has just the thing to apologize after a domestic tiff.

That Time of the Semicentury by ZehWulf (T)

Crowley squints at him blearily. "And why, exactly, are you over?" Aziraphale lifts his arms to draw attention to the overstuffed reusable bags he's brought with him. "You said it's that time again and, well, I thought perhaps you might allow me to pamper you a bit." OR What if we low-key compared the experience of snake-demon shedding to having a period and let the hurt/comfort unfold accordingly?

Forsaken by VerdantVulpus (E)

Aziraphale has quietly loved his frenemy for a very long time. It had been a simple, innocent love once, but grew overtime in its abundance and complexity. It was ever present, at times bothersome or painful, other times driving him to acts of courage he didn't think possible. Always quiet, though. There was no point sharing his feelings with a demon. Demons were incapable of love. So imagine Aziraphale’s dismay to learn that not only had Crowley loved him terribly for just as long, but that Aziraphale had missed all the signs and the demon had given up hope. Now Aziraphale must organize his own thoughts and feelings and learn how to woo a demon before Crowley moves on for good.

- Mod D

[hoshinoyozora]

The Snake Mirror

🖤 Pairing: Yandere! Jamil Viper x Female! Reader

💛 Word Count: 2,8k+

❤ Warnings:

[Edited]

Do not re-upload my writing to another website or use it without my permission. Also, don’t ask for a sequel unless I like the story enough to write one. Please reblog so other people can see my stories!

***

Thinking about turning this into a series, but we shall see if I have anymore ideas. Feel free to share yours, tho!

“If you want a pleasant surprise, try chanting ‘Mirror, mirror on the wall’. Nighttime works better.”

You didn’t know what to expect when the mirror shop owner bent down to whisper something to you. At that time, you merely nodded and tittered as you always did whenever you felt confused with a stranger’s words yet wanting to stay polite. Crowley grinned knowingly and withdrew from your ear. He certainly looked as unique as the things he sold; a half-mask resembling a raven’s beak, a greatcoat over his suit with thick blackbird feathers curl out from its blue-collar while the tips of the coat were cut to resemble two bird wings, a pair of black gloves with golden claw rings on each of his fingers, three mirror-like accessories on his hip with four golden keys dangling from them, and another mirror-like charm on his hat which had three more keys. Through that mask, his eyes glowed golden in the dimly lit shop. Until now, you still weren’t sure if he truly had golden eyes or it was merely trick of the eye.

Regardless, the surprise you encountered was more ‘mixed’ than ‘pleasant’. Within the golden mirror, framed by slithering snakes and a single red gem on the top, was a handsome man with tan skin, sharp charcoal grey eyes, and long braided black hair. He wore a black and purple robe, trimmed with golden key and various designs. He displayed a neutral expression, but if you were to observe further, you might see a slight annoyance in it.

“Good evening, Master. I’m here to carry out your wishes. For now, you only have three wishes left.”

His voice was low, almost like a murmur, yet no less robotic. He kept staring at you as you sputtered and whipped your head around searching for someone to help you despite the emptiness of your room.

“Oh, God. What should I do? He didn’t tell me I’d see a literal guy on my own mirror…!” you mumbled. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to call you. I was just curious and…”

The man merely blinked.

“You can go back, if you want to.”

“Is there nothing you want to wish for right now, Master?” he intoned. “If so, I shall leave until you call me again. Properly.”

You winced at the emphasis and nodded repeatedly, tittering.

“Y-yes, of course. Sorry for… bothering you.”

And he disappeared as quickly as he appeared. You stood before the mirror, staring blankly at the glossy reflection of yourself. The more you watched it, the more it looked like an ordinary mirror. Almost. Certainly, the mirror was worthy of your money in the most unexpected ways, even if you bought it solely to replace your old broken one.

Regardless, the mirror incident was soon forgotten in favor of your ailing grandmother. Although this time, she was hospitalized. The small family restaurant you worked on wasn’t enough to cover the bills, and you pondered long and hard to earn some extra money when you finally acknowledged the mirror again.

Should you do it?

“Mirror, mirror on the wall…”

Magically, the man materialized and greeted you in the same low, robotic voice. You wondered if it was rude of you to use your wishes when you didn’t even know his own name, and asked him to introduce himself.

“Me?” If it wasn’t for his slightly widened eyes, you wouldn’t notice his surprise at all. A question flashed in your mind about whether he was the type to have subtle emotions since birth or if he was taught to never show his discomposure. “I’m Jamil. Jamil Viper.”

“Oh, I see. That’s a nice name.”

An awkward silence ensued, and Jamil schooled his features back.

“Master, is there anything you wish for tonight?”

“Right, I–” you paused at the afterthought. “Is it… possible for you to cure someone’s illness?”

He rose an eyebrow.

“It depends. I can’t heal terminal illnesses, since I can’t intervene with fate too much.”

“Right.” Luckily, your grandmother didn’t have that kind of illness. Although it was still severe, nonetheless. “Can you heal my grandma? She’s being hospitalized right now and I… don’t have much money to pay for the bills.”

“Your wish is my command.”

And the next day, you received a call from the hospital that your grandmother had completely healed. Your mother and sister were understandably shocked, but they chalked it up to miracles and rejoiced over the news. Your grandmother had laughed and moved around smoothly as though she was never ill in the first place.

“Jamil, thank you so much for granting my wish! I’ve never seen my grandma looked so happy and healthy before.”

If you could grab his hands to emphasize your gratitude, you would. But Jamil seemed startled enough by your glistening eyes and wide grin, so you assumed he understood already.

“I-it’s nothing.” he stammered, then cleared his throat. “I was merely doing my duty.”

A look of realization and slight dread replaced your beam.

“… Ah, yes. I forgot to ask you, but is there any consequence for those wishes?”

“Huh, that’s the first.”

You blinked owlishly, wondering what was so amusing from your question.

“Karma works in this kind of situation too, but very few people know about it. Even if they do, they either ignore it or realize it all too late. Nothing is truly free in this world, you know?”

You looked down in understanding, missing the way his eyes glinted meaningfully.

“I understand. That means I have to use my wishes as wisely as I can, right?”

He stared at you for a moment.

“Right.”

***

There was a new restaurant in your neighborhood.

It was more modern, more expensive, and more varied in terms of menu. Slowly, your longtime customers began to trickle out and move to the new restaurant. Competition was nothing unusual, and you were certain you’d meet this kind of thing again had you worked somewhere else. But you wouldn’t deny that it hurt to see your social media feeds were full of photos and praises for the new restaurant. The food you’d painstakingly cooked early in the morning had to be thrown out, only to be made all over again. The lack of tips further dismayed you, and worse of all, you sometimes caught your sister gazing longingly at the new restaurant. You knew that she would’ve moved and worked in there too had she wasn’t so loyal to the family, but you ensured your mother wouldn’t see her yearning and react negatively.

“Jamil, can I ask you for another thing?”

So, here you were, sitting in front of the mirror and talking to a person whose existence nobody would believe. Jamil was sitting down too, but with more composure than your slumped figure had.

“Well, that’s what I’m here for.”

You rested your head on your palms and sighed heavily. While it was nice to have some break during work, you’d take busy days over empty days any time.

“I want my family restaurant to flourish.”

“… Why?”

“Because there’s a new competition and it takes most of our customers.”

“Don’t you want to… eliminate the competition instead?”

You shook your head, “No, I’m not that cruel. I just… I just want our restaurant to be the best in town. If possible.”

“Of course.”

The next day, a surge of new and old customers crowded your restaurant. Chatters and orders muffled the ambient music, and the smell of food and beverages filled the place. It was exhausting, but there was a small smile on your lips during the entire shift. Even your mother seemed relieved, deeming the phenomenon as another miracle.

“Oh, Jamil. Thank you again! My restaurant was filled to the brim today, and we got so much tips too!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. It’d be concerning if it wasn’t.”

He looked away, but it wasn’t out of arrogance so much as embarrassment. Your grin softened to an adoring smile.

“You’re really cute, you know that?”

“W-what?!”

“Are you not used to people thanking you? Or is this the… first time you’re doing this whole wish-granting duty?”

Jamil fell quiet, and you feared you’d offended him somehow.

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to–!”

“It’s fine, I get it.” he sighed, closing his eyes as if preparing himself. “And no, this is not my first time. I’ve been doing this longer than you think, and I’ve met lots of people with various personalities. Some only consider me as a tool to make their biggest wishes come true, while some are formal, to say the least.”

“I see.” You couldn’t say that you understood his feelings, but you could sympathize with the ‘tool’ part because some customers also considered you as a servant to their demands. “So, how did you land in that mirror shop?”

“Ah…”

Now he was being hesitant, and you didn’t want to make things anymore awkward between you two, so you told him to ignore it.

***

“For your last wish, I think you should be more selfish, [Name].”

You looked up in surprise. Jamil was polite when it was necessary, but he was generally blunt. Still, this was the most unexpected thing he said thus far.

“W-what are you talking about? My wishes have been ‘selfish’ too, no?”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” he deadpanned. “All this time you’ve been ‘wishing’ for other people’s happiness more than yours. But are you really going to spend all of your chances for them? Don’t you want a little something for yourself too?”

You stopped to ponder on his words. It was, indeed, true how you’d been requesting for blessings to your family. Sure, you felt the impact or benefit, but it wasn’t genuinely your blessing, to begin with. Your grandmother often told you to reward yourself after all the hard work, and although this was more of a ‘shortcut’ than anything else, her words still held some weight.

“Okay.” said you after a moment of contemplation, and, as always, Jamil patiently waited until you dismissed him verbally. “I wish… I wish I could have a boyfriend.”

And yet, despite his encouragement, he took a rather long time to grant your last wish.

“Jamil…?”

“You want a what?”

“I-I want a boyfriend.” You didn’t know why you were stammering now, or why he was looking at you so scandalously, but you did know that the temperature had dropped. Your hair bristled, and you were tempted to shoo him away for the night, but you persisted and asked softly, “Is that so bad?”

He remained quiet and kept watching you, until he finally sucked a breath through his mouth.

“… No, of course not.” he paused, seemingly thinking about something. Then, his face brightened slightly. “If that’s what you wish, I shall make it come true to the best of my ability. Let this be our final meeting too, Master. And… thank you for making my life pleasant, even if it’s fleeting.”

You wilted. You forgot that this would be the last time you met him. Maybe you should procrastinate on the wish for a bit longer, but what if he wanted to see a new person instead? Someone kinder and friendlier than you. Your heart ached at the thought, yet you were comforted by the smile on his face. It was a little larger than usual, perhaps prompted by the gratitude he felt for you.

You smiled back.

“Thank you for being so patient with me and grant my wishes too, Jamil. You never disappointed me, and I hope the next person will be just as pleasant.”

“You’re right. I never disappointed you, did I?” he murmured, although he still maintained eye contact with you. “I hope you won’t be disappointed with this one, too.”

Suddenly, your eyesight began to blur. You blinked repeatedly and put a hand on your head as if trying to anchor yourself to the ground. Yet the ground was what you felt on the back of your head along with a dull pain as you succumbed to the darkness.

And the last thing you saw was a dark hand that reached out from the mirror.

***

The sand surrounded the palace-like building as you leaned against the balcony in an attempt to convince yourself that you weren’t dreaming. There was an invisible barrier that prevented you from leaping from the balustrade, and your mind unhelpfully supplied that it was, in fact, magic. Golden lanterns hung at various spots in the vast ceiling, complemented with golden lamps that illuminated the lounge room. There was a silver tray containing two matching small cups and a pitcher, and colorful rugs spread out over the entire room. In the center of the rugs, the red one, lied a pile of plush pillows that imprinted the shape of your body. It was comfortable, and you’d love to bury yourself in it forever had you didn’t wake up in a strange place. Stars twinkled coyly in the dark blue canvas, mocking your ignorance of the situation.

“Enjoying the view?”

You spun around, noting the obvious change of clothes. He wore a black and red sleeveless jacket, an undershirt, a yellow belt, black parachute pants, and black sneaker-sandals. There were several gold accessories in his body; the most striking one was the shoulder cuff on his right shoulder, shaped like a snake. He seemed more casual now, more relaxed as though he was visiting you during your stargazing. You recoiled despite the considerable distance between you two and almost bumped against the balustrade behind you.

“J-Jamil, what…? Where am I? Why am I here?”

“You said you want a boyfriend, no? Well, here I am. Your boyfriend.”

“You’re joking.”

He frowned.

“I’ve been fulfilling your wishes left and right and listening to your sorrows and happiness. I might as well be your boyfriend.”

“But you’re not! That’s not what I’m asking!”

“No, [Name]. You did ask for a ‘boyfriend’, but you never specified ‘who’ or ‘what’.” he hissed. “Don’t you ever heard of the phrase ‘be careful of what you wish for’? I’m not a mind reader, [Name], and I don’t want to. If you ask me something so vague, then I’ll give you what I think will suit you.”

You gaped, and your throat began to tighten. To yell or to cry? You didn’t know. Everything was too much for you to comprehend at once. It was true that you did share your sorrows and happiness, and you’d mistakenly believed him to be your friend due to his patience and support. But you didn’t expect that he’d harbor any feeling for you beyond gratitude; one that was dark enough to led him to kidnap you.

“Where am I, Jamil?” you whispered once you were fully cognizant of your surroundings for the second time. “Where am I?! Tell me! Am I still in my city?! My neighborhood?!”

Something told you that you were far from home, too far, but you refused to believe it. Even if you were in another country, it was still much better than–

“You’re in my world, of course.”

His home.

“Or the ‘mirror world’, as some of you called it.”

The night wind howled, filling the temporary silence and fragile peace.

“… I want to go home.”

“You can’t. The mirror has broken now.”

“Why? Why is it broken? Crowley said it’s an old but durable mirror. I paid too much money for that.”

“It’s not a matter of how much money you spent to buy it, although I’m grateful for your efforts. But, you see,” Jamil started to advance towards you, and you had no way out than to swallow and bear with the ever-encroaching proximity. He lifted your chin, feeling your jaw tensed. “The mirror always breaks once the owner gains his ‘happily ever after’. If he doesn’t, then Crowley will retrieve the mirror from the patron’s house after they get the justice they deserve and sell it all over again. And, yes, I am the true owner of this mirror. All of you might pay money for that, but you ask things from me and you play with my rules. And once the mirror breaks, it can never be sold again.”

“So, all this time, you’re being passed down in search of a ‘happily ever after’ bullshit?”

Jamil sneered at your insult.

“That’s rich, coming from someone who also seeks for happiness. Don’t pretend to be dumb. All of you are the same. You just so happen to focus more on your family. But in the end, you succumb to your selfish desires too, don’t you?”

“You said I should be more–!”

“Shut up!” He clasped a hand over your mouth and glowered. “That is no way to speak to your boyfriend. I told you, karma works in this kind of situation too. I can repay your kindness to your family by making you healthy and rich forever, but if you treat me badly, then I’ll treat you just as similar. Do you understand, [Name]?”

You merely glared back.

“I said, do you understand?”

Reluctantly, you nodded.

“Good.” Jamil withdrew his hand and allowed you to slump against him. Patting your back, he cooed. “This way, I can continue to help you and vice versa. Because I never forget a favor… or an offense.”

[halemerry]

I read your meta on the manipulation the Metatron used on Aziraphale, and it was such a great essay laying out every detail. When I watched the end of the episode it was early morning for me and I was super tired and I missed a lot of those details. What did manage to come through in my sleepy mind, was that I was very confused about Why This Happened? As in, I understand now that Az was manipulated, I definitely agree with that analysis, but I don't understand yet if this decision was foreshadowed anywhere in the first 5 and a half episodes. I haven't rewatched the season yet (too busy reading meta lol) but I was wondering if you had any thoughts on that?

I just feel like, other than Aziraphale saying in the first episode that it's nice sometimes to tell someone about something good you've done, now that he's not reporting to heaven, Az doesn't actually seem to care all that much in the present day about his old allegiance. I wonder if maybe that's part of the point? He didn't want Heaven anymore and so he wasn't thinking about it? After all, the show begins with Aziraphale enjoying his new life. As the interviews said, he's living his best life. Good music, good food, and the love of his life.

Because if that's genuinely the case, then perhaps the point of the season is that the soft gentle romance of the first five episodes is Who They Are, and it's just that Aziraphale was rushed and manipulated into something he genuinely did not want even a little bit.

Or maybe he always thought he could fix it, because of the Before The Beginning where Crowley said, "If I was in charge, I'd want people to ask questions." Maybe that planted a seed in Azi's mind. Maybe Azi does want to run Heaven, only in a way that Crowley could be proud of it again. Fix it FOR Crowley. Even though Crowley doesn't want that (and Azi maybe doesn't understand that yet).

I came into your askbox intending to ask a simple question about your thoughts, but I have instead written an essay and asked for one in return. Consider it a quick temptation lol

Temptation accomplished hehe - though a little later than I'd have liked. No though genuinely I love this sort of thing a lot and really appreciate all of it. Anyone please feel free to do this at any time!

But uh so. Since that first meta I've done a lot of stuff breaking down that last scene here and also breaking down Aziraphale and the minisodes from this season here. Both of these operate ascribing to the idea that Aziraphale has been threatened into pseudo compliance on top of the active manipulation the Metatron was doing to him. I'll admit this is the theory I currently favor. But, while that's something I find more thematically interesting and also in more narrative alignment, I do still think there's narrative weight to this on its own.

And I think in the case you've got it dead on with the idea of fixing Heaven FOR Crowley.

Most significantly I think this is viable in the way Aziraphale views Crowley. Like. We know he thinks Crowley is Good and that he has thought this for a very very long time. Arguably his instincts have been telling him this since even before he could consciously put it into words given that even as early as Eden he was being honest with Crowley - a thing he even then did not feel he could do with God Herself. Despite being Fallen, Crowley is safe. Crowley is right. Crowley is Good.

Despite is important here. Because it is notably not and. The lesson being taught here is not that Hell can be Good. In fact Crowley himself actively encourages this idea. I'm not taking you to Hell because you wouldn't like it. My lot don't send rude notes. I need a weapon that could destroy me to keep me safe from Hell. I'm a demon: I lie. A demon could get in a lot of trouble for doing the right thing. I'm a demon, demons aren't nice- You're an angel you can't be tempted. You're an angel - you can't do the wrong thing. All of these things in culmination with the way Crowley talks about his Fall to Aziraphale - I didn't really Fall just sauntered vaguely downward - sets Crowley up as unique in the way he transcends what he is.

Meanwhile Aziraphale has been learning the hard, slow way that the people running Heaven do not necessarily have good intentions and more critically that they are not in alignment with what God actually wants. The problem is the management. The angel who would become Crowley said as much himself.

He has every reason to believe they fix it together too. He now knows that together they can perform archangel tier miracles while they're both actively trying to hold back. He knows that even when they're making mistakes and fumbling through the apocalypse they can help defy the world ending. He knows that they are perhaps the only two beings alive that even remotely understand God's will.

So here's Aziraphale given the opportunity to put himself in charge along with theoretically the single most Good being he's ever met. Of course that's appealing. You could give the person you love the power to create again - something we are explicitly shown at the beginning of this season to bring the angel that would become Crowley more joy and delight than we have literally ever seen Crowley have on screen - and the power to create a world together that actually deserves to have that person? You could undo something that you've slowly been coming to terms with believing should have never been done to him in the first place? You could be Adam, rewriting the end of the world and making it so the Bookshop never burned. All you need to do is change the color of the paint job.

Because he'd never change Crowley. He loves Crowley. Crowley is Good already it's not about making him better. The bit with the Bentley is the scene this season that encapsulates this sort of worldview most. Aziraphale changes the color of the car (which is being presented to us as literally physically linked to Crowley) but not the model. He changes how it looks just like Crowley changes into angel wear without a second thought. Neither change the core of what they are, just the aesthetics. And Crowley is always trying on new aesthetics without letting them change who he is. From Az's perspective why would this be any different?

He doesn't realize that sometimes even if you make it so a Bookshop never burnt that doesn't mean the memory of it doing so ever leaves. You still line the shop with fire extinguishers. You still swap to battery operated candles. The memory lingers as they always seem to do.

Crowley can't ever go back. Won't ever go back. Because the trauma of the Fall draws a clearer line for him both in his own identity and in his worldview than it ever could for Aziraphale who came to his own much more slowly. And because of that it's easy to see a reading of Aziraphale that can't see the specific way what he's saying eats at all Crowley's insecurities because all he can see is what they're capable of together and how that aligns with the greater good. It's all part of God's plan, just like they've always been.

[giantmushyfriend]

Discussing Crowley's S3 (potential) relationships

As soon as season 3 got confirmed, or even since Neil told us that one way or another he would tell its story, we as a community have wondered about how Crowley will interact with the different characters as he and Aziraphale attempt to once again prevent the end of the world, and finally resolve the barricade that has stopped them from actually talking to each other, which will allow them to eventually be what they are meant to be: together. While we know that Aziraphale and Crowley will end up together in a cottage in the South Downs, presumably in a garden, we don't know how we are going to get there. All we know of season three yet, especially since scripts are still being written as per Neil's Tumblr, is that Aziraphale and Crowley are currently not talking, that they will save the world and end up together. That's it, and that's all we're going to know for a very long time since these shows take a very long time to produce to the level of quality that we've come to expect from Neil and the team. That being said, we know that major character growth is going to happen for both of our protagonists. For Aziraphale, it seems safe to assume that he's going to learn how to be more independent and overcome his issues with his faith, which is currently centered in the institution of Heaven. Aziraphale's growth is going to be within his predetermined beliefs of what things should be vs what things actually are. Heaven should be inherently good, but it's not. Aziraphale should have no issues with the plans Heaven and Hell have concocted, but he does. That's what we can assume will push Aziraphale's story and character within the last season, and it's assumably going to be by himself. There aren't a lot of people who are going to be around him to help him in his journey outside of Muriel and eventually Crowley as they rebuild their relationship. Crowley, on the other hand, looks like his story will be primarily based on him building relationships with others and moving past his trauma. This seemingly will be through Muriel, Nina, Maggie, and then eventually Aziraphale. To best understand how these potential relationships, their growths, and even their conflicts will help Crowley grow as a character, it's best to look at them one at a time.

Let's start with Nina, the character that, on the surface level, mirrors Crowley. Nina and Crowley are parallels in terms of their personality. It's straightforward to compare the two of them and how they carry themselves. Both are protective and strong-minded and despite being tough on the outside, they have a lot of unresolved issues. It wouldn't be hard to believe that Crowley sees aspects of himself in Nina and vice versa. However, when we dig deeper, we see that Nina more or less mirrors Aziraphale in terms of her relationship with her abusive ex-partner. Like Aziraphale, Nina made excuses for how her ex-partner was treating her, often being manipulated into thinking she was the problem in the relationship. Nina knows what Aziraphale is going through and also knows how to put it in terms that Crowley will understand. It wouldn't be surprising sometime next season to see Nina talk about her experiences in her past relationship in a way that helps Crowley understand not only her past but also Aziraphale's. One of the largest roadblocks within Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship is that Crowley doesn't understand the relationship that Aziraphale has with Heaven because it's so different from his own. Crowley, since his fall, knows that Heaven is toxic. They can punish those who don't deserve it, and they, as an institution, cause a lot of harm. He knows that, has witnessed it firsthand, and has recognized the systematic issues that are constructed within the framework. In modern terms, Crowley has seemingly deconstructed, despite the fact that he still holds faith in God. This is a large gap from where Aziraphale is in terms of his journey and relationship with these institutions, something that Crowley has a hard time comprehending. He doesn't understand what Aziraphale's relationship with Heaven is really like and thus doesn't see Aziraphale's actions through the lens of someone in a toxic relationship. Rather, based on his prior experiences, he believes that Aziraphale could never love him or choose him because he's a demon; he's fallen. To Crowley, Aziraphale rejected him for the same reasons why God and Heaven rejected him: he wasn't good enough. Nina's storyline matches well to help Crowley understand where Aziraphale is coming from and why he has acted the way he has, and it helps him make sense of their situation. I believe that Nina will help be the person who gets Crowley to a place where he can help navigate working with Aziraphale to save the world through a close-knit friendship that we've already seen the fandom begin to speculate about.

Another interesting dynamic I'm excited to see develop next season is Crowley and Maggie. Like Nina, Maggie, at first glance, appears to fulfill the role of Aziraphale's parallel as the kinder, more cheerful member of the duo. However, as many others have pointed out, she's a better parallel for Crowley in terms of her role in the plot. Maggie is deeply in love with Nina. Unlike her past partner, she cares for her profoundly and respects her. With Nina and Maggie, it's a partnership, not a hierarchy. And like Crowley, she waits as long as necessary until the person she loves is ready to begin that relationship. Unlike Nina, I don't necessarily think that Crowley and Maggie are going to be the best of friends. Maggie has a lot of traits that Crowley will probably see Aziraphale in, such as her kindness, her affection for specific things like records or books, and the odd quirks that she's expressed throughout the second season. Those aspects of Maggie will both be comforting to Crowley since they reflect traits his own best friend had/has, but they'll also be reminders of Aziraphale. The two won't be attached to the hip, but they'll have this mutual understanding. Through Maggie and her relationship with Nina, which may be established by the time season three starts, Crowley might see glimpses of what he and Aziraphale could have if they worked out their differences.

That being said, there could be room for conflict and resolution within their friendship. I wouldn't be surprised if we saw, at least once, Maggie trying to talk to Crowley about Aziraphale and him pushing her away, saying she knows nothing about them or him. It wouldn't be unlikely to see him make some snarky remark about how he got abandoned the last time he followed her advice and tried talking. And it wouldn't be unlikely for this to lead to either Maggie or Nina confronting Crowley about how he reacts to things, inherently pushing people away out of anger rather than communicating, and how that probably drove Aziraphale away- most likely in the heat of the argument. While this may hurt Crowley at the moment, it could act as a springboard for some self-reflection needed for his growth and to complete his arch.

Muriel is also another character who may, and most certainly will, have a complex relationship with Crowley. I've heard a lot of people discuss these points, so they won't be new, but Crowley will be initially hostile towards the young angel before eventually warming up to them. Muriel will initially stand as a reminder of what happened between Aziraphale and Crowley. Crowley will look at Muriel, at them running Aziraphale's bookshop, and be instantly reminded of why Aziraphale isn't there. At least initially, their mere existence will be a reminder of Aziraphale's absence, and he will be furious at them for it. He will most likely use them to grieve the relationship that he lost, the one that got away. But I think there will be a couple of ways that Muriel helps Crowley along his journey. Firstly, in combination with Nina, Muriel will help Crowley understand where Aziraphale was coming from, even if his actions were misdirected. I think they will do this by displaying their newfound love and admiration for the world around them. As many have pointed out when discussing this potential plot point, this is Muriel's first time on Earth, and they are mesmerized by everything they see. They will be amazed by everything around them, even the ugly parts, and probably filled with questions about how the world works. This will resonate with Crowley, perhaps showing him aspects of who he used to be and helping him remember what this has all been for in the first place. Muriel will help him remember why he and Azirapahle saved the world in the first place and potentially give him the drive to save it again. Initially, like Nina and Maggie, I think Muriel will push Crowley and Aziraphale back together. Muriel is the only connecting point between Aziraphale and Crowley at this point, primarily because of their new role as the bookshop keeper. Through their role as this bridge for the two of them, Muriel will get them to reflect on what they love about the world and their love for each other. I would bet that Muriel, at least once, asks Crowley about his feelings for Aziraphale or points it out like Nina did, and I think that will cause Crowley to spiral into readmitting to himself that he did love Aziraphale that he still does, even if he's angry at him.

Lastly, Aziraphale. We already know that the beginning of their reconciliation is going to be a literal shit show. I am still determining how or when these two will find their way back to each other, which is primarily why this section is so short, but I have a hunch that it will be a slow-burn-ish subplot throughout the season. They're both probably going to be angry at each other at the beginning, but then put aside their differences to save the world. No matter what, through the help of the other characters and their respective relationships with them, the two will slowly find their way back to each other. I think it's going to be a season full of them essentially talking to each other in the ways that couples in couples therapy talk to each other, but I also think it's going to be a season of them falling in love with each other and learning how to express that love within their new dynamic. I think after years apart, under these new circumstances, they will be reminded of what they love about each other and the place of salvation their relationship has been for them. They will fall back into their banter, bickering, and longing glances, but they will get it together at the end of it all.

[youryurigoddess]

Case study and analysis of the 1992 Good Omens movie screenplay (“the shitscript”) in light of the ongoing WGA strike

As one could suspect, the topic of the 1992 Good Omens movie screenplay and its infamy has recently emerged from the depths of the fandom. In light of the ongoing WGA strike it’d be good to properly address this issue, starting with Neil Gaiman’s own recollection written in 2004:

It’s basically the same old story — of brilliant creative workers struggling under the pressure of detached studio executives and being legally forced to mutilate their work again and again for no artistic or economic reason — we’ve heard before in many different contexts.

If you’re reading this and somehow still wondering why writers are fighting for their rights at the moment, their job security hasn’t changed much since then. Please follow the WGA, SAG-AFTRA, and other unions’ official channels for detailed information and ways to help the cause.

Anyway, it took over a decade and an enormous effort to print the screenplay in a limited edition of 552 copies. It can’t be distributed otherwise due to IP law, but some fans shared its fragments online and heavily criticized them, dubbing the 1992 source material #shitscript

There’s been obviously a lot of controversies over the changes in the plot and the relationship between the main characters. And rightfully so — the number of iterations has created something very different from the beloved book and the award-winning show we can all enjoy today.

It’s… objectively not good. Wouldn’t be considered a hit back then and certainly not by today’s standards. I don’t think I would watch it in any other way than through channel surfing. However, it’s not a monstrosity some people believe it to be and not a case of low effort.

Let’s start with the world building: the setting wasn’t changed to the US. It’s still very much based in the UK, mostly London and Tadfield, although the latter lies now by the sea and seems much more ominous. Interestingly, the British Museum becomes a prominent location as well.

The main character and the designated hero is not surprisingly Crowley, this time in his 90s anti-hero glory. If you haven’t watched many movies of this era, esp. dark fantasy, this trope involves middle-age disenchantment, cynicism, as well as hefty doses of sarcasm and brooding.

90s anti-heroes are a dark, grim, and unnecessarily violent embodiment of power fantasy, matching the destructive ideology of that time. Combined with uber-masculinity and performative strength over weaker characters, nowadays they naturally evoke more cringe or worry than awe.

1992 iteration of Crowley is basically in his Furfur era. Deeply unhappy and stuck in a dead end job, all he talks about is how he hates Earth and his assignment here, considering a transfer to Alpha Centauri as his one and only possibility of career advancement. Or life, really.

The talking part is important here, because he clearly compensates by insulting everything and everyone. He hates on the whole planet at length only to confess that he’d rather stay here with Aziraphale due to “no good restaurants”, “no decent bottle of wine” in Alpha Centauri.

Yes, he’s verbally abusive in his automatic response to stress. But doesn’t hate Aziraphale. In one particular scene he calls Azi stupid twice only to assure him that they are friends and to offer to solve the problem when he sees that his words were taken seriously and hurt him.

Crowley refers to him as “my angel” and “my dear Aziraphale”, agrees to Aziraphale’s suggestion of sharing a room, praises the angel as a “miracle worker around the home”, drinks the tea he makes for him, and generally proves to be much softer towards him than he wants to admit.

Aziraphale, on the contrary, wears his heart on his sleeve. He’s the one engineering ways to spend more time together, following Crowley around, checking up on him (including miracling himself into his apartment and office when no one answers the door), offering help right away.

He’s successfully calming Crowley down through his anxiety attacks, overcomes his dislike of heights (!) for Crowley, directly challenges him and even breaks rules only to make Crowley stay with him. Crowley seems to be his main motivation in this movie, not the saving the world.

1992 Aziraphale also has the most badass scene in the whole Good Omens multiverse to date, taking a 180 degree turn from the typical guardian angel we all know and love to the real angel of wrath protecting Crowley from harm in his true form.

But there’s no Their Side in this universe. The only semblance of that concept appears in the context of Anathema not representing either of their respective bosses, but humanity. “That’s the trouble with the humans. They’re on their own side.”

This Crowley appears not as much on Hell’s side as under Satan’s heel. He’s scared of him and subservient, and needs Aziraphale to prevent his escape as a pretext to do what is right. He lets the angel stop him by pretending that he doesn’t even see him cheating during their duel.

By finally standing up to his toxic boss (Satan is like Gabriel during the body-swapped trial, suave and cruel) and leaving Hell’s side to do good, Crowley takes an emancipated and employee-focused stance instead of fighting for his relationship with Aziraphale like shown in S1.

Which is a shame, but matches the overall tone of the screenplay and the times it was written in. The concept of free will, while simplified in a true Hollywood-style to issues like mind control and fear, is still crucial to this interpretation of the Good Omens original plot.

Especially the character of Anathema is seen fighting both of these things. There’s no Agnes Nutter with her prophecies here, only a 21-year-old witch and her will to thwart the ultimate evil versus her fear of doing it at a cost of one boy’s life, versus Satan’s brainwashing.

Madame Tracy appears slightly redesigned as a new character as well, but isn’t 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 for the most part. She’s been enjoying her youth way too much to see how fast it was fleeting, and this sudden realization left her in shock from which she denies to come back.

Unfortunately she’s also the one who took in baby Adam and now stays under his care. The level of his parentification is unnerving, much like his bullying and loneliness. He struggles to be loved and ask for love, which becomes his main quest beyond, y’know, the apocalypse thing.

Don’t worry, despite everything all ends well just like in the book. The family of two gets a chance to start again on much healthier terms and Anathema to live for herself for the first time in years. Our heroes get back in their car, Crowley tempting Aziraphale with an apple.

All in all, this whole post is a very long reminder for Amazon Prime to #PayYourWriters, #PayYourActors, and #RenewGoodOmens! The strike is still ongoing and crucial for any new content for this and many other fandoms #GiveMeS3orGiveMeDeath

[beebopboom]

Clothing Within Ranks

(Many people have made wonderful color analysis about good omens before me and I’m going to try and link where needed but I know l'm going to miss some so just know I am sorry about that - it’s not intentional)

What I wanted to get into today was what these colors mean for our characters, their ranks and roles, specifically Heavens uniforms over the years. I'm also only going to talk about the times we see more angels than just Aziraphale (and probably not even going to do a section on him here because that could be a whole post on its own) - one for comparison reasons and two this is already going to be quite long without getting into every single Aziraphale outfit

When going into this I was trying to look for why these angels were displaying these specific colors - what is an in-universe explanation? - what do these colors mean to Heaven? - what is with the big clothing changes throughout the years? why put these colors on clothing - making them physical instead of just atmospheric?

and I’ll admit I struggled with this and almost just gave up on it but I knew it wouldn't leave me alone so I pushed through and shout-out to these here metas that kept me sane and were my jumping off points but without further ado strap in it’s going to be a long one and let's just get into it.

We are going to start all the way back Before the Beginning because although there is not much to go off of (and going to be totally honest this is mostly just a crack thought but I figured why the hell not) there are still differences in their outfits, which I have touched on in a previous post. To summarize the difference is in the sleeves - the cut on Aziraphale’s sleeves are wider while crowley's have a more straight cut - but that is not what I wanted to touch on today, it's the placement of the gold on their sleeves. Aziraphale has the gold, which I should mention that the design on both them is the same, on the bottom of the sleeve but Crowley's is higher up by a couple inches.

Now this got me thinking about how the atmosphere of Heaven would have been before the War and this could just be me but I don't imagine there would a big need to show off rank - and I do believe they had a different ranking system during this time but that is a whole other thing - yknow it would just be something small nothing to really show off. Now we know that Crowley was probably a high ranking angel so to combine all this - what if how high the gold was on the sleeves was the indicator of how high they were in rank? I know that Aziraphale is not the lowest ranked angel but what if at the time he was? I mean he was referred to as a cherub here - which has been explained as just a young angel. Anyway this was mostly just a fun little thought.

The next time we see multiple examples of Angel clothes is in the Companion of Owls minisode and we get a lot of them. Now it has been pointed out before about how the gold embellishments are meant to show off their ranks as angels here - which is a great read so go do it - it really goes into the detail and it is probably easier to just go read it than me trying to summarize.

But why is this such a big difference from literally everything we have seen before? They are big and over the top and really showing off their status. For angels they really seem to be leaning into their pride for this whole story - just a visual way to show Heaven is not as good as they project - it’s giving when royals are just letting other people do their dirty work and when confronted about them sitting in their riches while their people suffer and they say “well what are we supposed to do about it?”

I also find it interesting that literally every other robe outfit we see from Aziraphale they are way more simple, almost like he has different outfits for when he is on a job and then when he is trying to blend in and live among humans - which just opens up a lot of cans

Lets fast forward to more modern times of season 1 and 2 to see how much things have changed and take a look at each angel individually (and the actual reason i wanted to do this post)

Gabriel

His main outfit consist of a gray suit with a white shirt and purple tie and tan shoes. He has some variations with a long gray coat and a gray turtleneck and scarf but we are really just going to focus on his main outfit. The gray is pretty straightforward as the color of archangels but the fully gray suit is specific to this council/leaders of angels. The purple tie is where it gets interesting though. Initially I thought it served the same purpose as his purple eyes, just as a way to show his rank as Supreme Archangel until purple showed up in other angels outfits also in places around their necks. So I had to look into what those angels did and how this would fit into what is essentially a government system. So yes this tie does symbolize him as a leader just not in what you expect.

I will get into the two kinds of base angels later but right now we are going to have to dive a little deeper to understand what the purple means - it is a job. I am proposing that the purple is an indicator that angel is a part of an intelligence/legal department in Heaven and because Gabriel has a solid purple tie instead of it in tartan, he is the leader of them or he at least is the angel they report to. It is a home for our creative angels, the ones making the plans. I will get into why the other angels fit into here when I talk about their outfits but as for why with Gabriel well lets look at his character (his season 1 character at least).

As Supreme Archangel he would need to be the angel that knows the most about what was going on, he very much wants to stick to the agreed upon plan, he spreads information around to make sure everything is going to said plan, and he very much does not want to know anything about the "illegal” back-channels that Heaven may have. These are just a few broad examples but it is worth something to look at. Now to understand the white and tan in his outfit we are going to have to move on to the rest of our gray suits - just remember he is the leader of all angels.

Michael

Their outfit consist of a gray suit and a white frilly shirt with white shoes. The gray suit is of course for their archangel council rank but what is with just the white? White is thought to be just the base color of angels and I think is was but it has changed a little. As the concept still fits with what I am about to propose - it is now just one of the two base kinds of angels.

I'll admit their outfit tripped me up so took a step back and looked at it backwards and it was Muriel that actually helped lock this in. Muriel starts out in a tan outfit but changes into a completely white officer outfit to complete a job - a job to blend in, observe, and confirm and it got me thinking of the actions we see Michael do. They are the one to get pictures of Aziraphale and Crowley, they are the back-channel to hell, and they refer to themselves as a duty officer to name a few.

So to put this all together I think the White is meant to show the angels that are for surveillance - to watch over and observe humanity - kind of like a civil service. Michael is the leader/representative of these angels and that's why the white is so big and frilly to show off this position instead of just a simple shirt.

Uriel

Their outfit is very similar to Micheals with a gray suit and solid color shirt underneath though his is tan. Again the gray suit for their archangel council rank and with the new addition of tan.

So after taking a look at the angels that wear tan Uriel, Sandalphon, Aziraphale, and a few background angels let me introduce the second kind of base angels - the protective ones - the fighters- think of them like the military. Uriel would then be the leader/representative of this group with their tan frilly shirt. Uriel and Sandalphon have pretty similar attitudes as I imagine a pretty high up military officer would have and you have an actual platoon of angels dressed in military uniform - all in shades of tan.

Now I do think something changed in Heaven that required them to start forming this protective side instead of just leaving it as it was or maybe it's the simple fact that God likes threes more. The reason I say this is because in the Companion of Owls minisode Uriel is nowhere to be found and the lack of any tan in Aziraphales outfit until Golgotha in 33 A.D. but even then not consistently until 1793. It just paints a picture that this side is a later development but I am getting off track.

This is the end of the Archangel council and moving forward it will be lower ranked angels which have a lot more to their clothes. You may be wondering about Sandalphon and Saraqael as we see them working with the other archangels as a group of four well then stay tuned we are about to get into it

Sandalphon

Its outfit is mainly various shades of tan which stands out so visually from the others he is grouped with. A long tan coat with black buttons and a tan based tartan waistcoat and pants -it's a big change from the gray. He’s one of the darkest angel outfits we see considering it is bordering on brown and it's long coat, it doesn't look too good for his morals.

Now his tartan consist of a lighter tan and gray which if it wasn't clear enough what kind of base angel catagory it was in, it is the protective one, and the gray to show he is still an archangel. So he is still a high ranking angel probably just below Uriel. But we see him with the council, receiving reports from Aziraphale, why would he be there then? Well what has Heaven been preparing and training for these past few years? A war. It wouldn't be too far fetched to think they would bring in the highest ranking angel that is actually working with the angel troops to keep them updated on how it is looking and for him to be informed of what is going on, on Earth.

It is also worth noting his connection to the Metatron, they are brothers in actual angel lore, their clothes are kind of mirrors of each other (plus the black buttons people), and the fact that Sandalphon completes the weird obsession with fours that the Metatron has but I can get into that later.

So basically what I'm saying is that it was brought on specifically for Armageddon and it would explain why he wasn't there in season 2 (besides the fact the actor couldn't make it)

Saraqael

Their outfit is mainly white with some interesting colors in the tartan on their collar, cuffs, and in a stripe down their pants. The white of their outfit puts them under Michaels surveillance side of base angels which makes sense when looking at their actions, always trying to make themselves invisible and just watching plus they are the one who goes looking for Gabriel on the security cameras. But now on to their tartan which consist of white, a light gray, a dark gray, purple and a blue-green color.

At this point we know what the white means as well that light gray is for archangel rank so that leaves the rest. The purple puts them under Gabriels intelligence/legal team which make sense as they are seen as one of our more intelligent angels. The dark-gray I am going to say puts them in connection with the Metatron and the reason it is not fully black is because they are doubtful about him, maybe even scared. Now the blue-green color had me stumped for a bit but the most satisfying conclusion I came up with is that it is for the angels that are planning/apart of the Second Coming - another job. This particular shade of blue-green is new to this season and only on angels particularly associated with bringing about the Second Coming - Saraqael, Muriel, Jimbriel, and the Metatron(i think but not a big deal if not).

This is why we see Saraqael grouped in with the archangel council this season - Heaven has shifted into planning mode instead of fighting.

Muriel

Before I get started I just wanted to say they were the reason I almost threw this all away because of their color combinations but I think I pulled it around

So lets just get into this - they are wearing a tan outfit and have a very similar tartan to Saraqael with the purple, the blue-green, and a dark gray.

This color combination with the tan and this kind of tartan really threw me for a loop. Why would a protective kind of angel be doing these jobs? So I went looking into actual u.k. military rankings because I didn't know anything about them and tried to find out what the lowest ranking members did. And one of the jobs of a lance corporal is a clerk which rung the bell that they also say they are a Scrivener, which is also a clerk.

It has been theorized that they work under Saraqael which seems to be reflected with the tartan. But what their actual job seems to be is writing down and recording these agreed upon Second Coming plans, yknow War plans and filing them. (also looking back there seems to be a very light shade of gray stripe in the tartan - almost like it is faded - maybe a visual hint they were demoted)

I also think it is interesting they sent another protective angel who has a love for written word down to Earth and eventually ends up staying. Only this time they have the complete knowledge of what Heaven is planning even if they don't realize it - they were the one who wrote it down.

The Metatron

Yes we are going to end with him because I guess he deserves a mention. No but seriously his outfit is interesting and hard to read particularly - mainly because it is very difficult to find good pictures - so I don't have a lot of clear cut answers for him and most of this is speculation I guess you could say but I figured I had to include him. His outfit consist of black long coat, pants, and tie with the addition of a blue flower?? shape on it, and a white shirt with blue vertical stripes underneath.

Now he is the only angel we see wear black as the base color in their main outfit - the only other time is Aziraphale’s magician outfit - which has interesting implications of this color - is it a mystery? An illusion? He also seems to have influence over the darker colors we see in heaven, as Saraqael is the only angel we see recognized him. But since I don't have an answer for that so let’s move on to the blue.

I go back and forth on whether this is the same blue that I talked about earlier or just like a generic blue - either way they both kind of boil down to the same thing for Heaven - and that is that Heaven is going through a change. Most of the time when we see blue it is with Aziraphale who we see change a lot for an angel and we see him start to include shades of blue in his outfit in 1601 (though I could see an argument for 537 a.d.) We also see Heaven itself go from a warm yellow undertone and change into the cool blue undertone at some point. And if you think this Second Coming isn't going to involve a big change in Heaven - well have fun. It is also the color Jesus is draped in on the Resurrectionists sign. But anyway lost the plot a little there - my point is that the Metatron seems to like to change things into his favor.

Remember when I said I'd get into the Metatron and his connection to fours well lets get into that now. In the design of the blue parts of his tie their seems to be four sides to it and it got me thinking other fours we see. Another instantance of fours directly related to the Metatron is right before he appears in season 1 four lights float down and when they connect then boom Metatron head. Now on to more nuisance fours and you get that they have a running theme that one of them is off, Adam - the only non-human in his for person friend group, Pollution - pestilence’s replacement, and most importantly the forth archangel pushed up into the archangel council. The thing is without the insistance there be four of them the rankings in heaven would fall into a pretty pyramid scheme - a perfect three one of Gods favorite. But I've probably rambled for far too long about this and it’s getting into other things so I'll leave it here.

So just to summarize what the colors mean

White - is for our base angels that are meant to surveillance

Tan - is for our base angels that are meant to protect

Gray - to show archangel rank - gray suit is for the council

Purple - is a job type for intelligence/legal dealings

Blue-Green - is a job type specifically for planning the Second Coming

Blue - just meant to symbolize change in heaven/angels

Black - just sus - it's a mystery - hiding something

[crowleys-hips]

For Laura @wibbly-wobbly-blog Based on our stupid headcanon that they get a pet ___ by accident when they're living in the South Downs. Chaos ensues. Happy Birthday!

summary:

Crowley finds a crippled, dirty rat as he's coming out of the grocery store. Or at least, what he presumes is a rat. He's delighted with it and takes it home. Aziraphale is shocked at the strange creature and insists they have it checked to make sure it's a rat. It is not a rat. They keep it anyway.

Crowley stops his shopping cart as he spots an odd movement on the sidewalk and peers down. A little creature is viciously gnawing at a wet piece of cardboard next to the garbage bin. Its hind legs are missing, its tail is awfully crooked, and its entire tiny body is covered in some black, slimy thing. Mud, or oil probably. Downright filthy. He makes a disconcerted face at it and leans down. The creature peels its teeth at him.

“Oh, you poor rat. Here, let’s take you home buddy. We’ll get you cleaned up,” he tells the creature, and without thinking it twice, he miracles a cardboard box and carefully scoops up the little fella. “In you go.” The creature wiggles in his hand and growls in what it hopes is a ferocious and threatening way. It sounds more like a deflating cat.

Crowley puts the box in the front seat and bundles the groceries in the trunk, then climbs into the driver’s seat and turns to the box beside him, putting it on his lap.

“Alright, it’s been a looong time since I’ve done animals, it was never my field of expertise if I’m honest, but I’ll do my best. You ready?”

The creature peers up at him with big, round, beady eyes expectantly. Crowley snaps all the filth out of the creature, revealing its tawny brown fur, all squeaky clean now. Then he concentrates for a second, willing brand new ratty hind legs for the little thing and righting its thin, brown tail. It doesn’t react at first, but soon it becomes aware of its new limbs and tentatively stretches a little leg. It seems to like it, so it wiggles a little foot and twirls around in place, testing out its new limbs.

“All better! See? You’re welcome,” Crowley smiles proudly to himself as he settles the box in the back seat. “You’re gonna love your new home, ratty.”

The drive home is swift and calm. He hears some whiny squeaking in the back, but it’s to be expected from a startled, newly rescued creature he thinks. What do rats eat? He briefly wonders, but decides to worry about that later. He’s got a whole bundle of fresh groceries in the back, it’ll probably like something .

As he pulls over in the driveway of the cottage, he honks twice to signal he’s home with the groceries. He steps out of the car and not five seconds later, Aziraphale is at the door, greeting him with that radiant smile of his.

“Hey, angel,” he waves.

“You’re back early,” he says as he walks up to him and leans up for a kiss. “Did you get everything?”

“Oh, I got more than everything,” He says with a cheeky smile, wrapping his arms around his waist. “I brought a little surprise.”

This, of course, isn’t unusual of Crowley. He often surprises Aziraphale with all kinds of little gifts. Flowers, chocolates, desserts, fine wine, tickets for a play or an opera, a new first edition that Aziraphale had been wanting that he just happened to come across. All sorts of things. The angel is spoiled rotten. But that wicked smile on Crowley’s face borders on manic. There’s something he’s not telling. Aziraphale smells mischief.

“What did you get?” He narrows his eyes at him.

“Wait and see,” he laughs and kisses Aziraphale’s little pout. “Help me get the groceries inside, then I’ll show you.”

Aziraphael huffs and watches him walk to the back of the car. He doesn’t notice the box in the backseat.

Once all the bags are in the kitchen, Crowley stops Aziraphale in his tracks.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back,” He kisses his forehead and bolts out the door, leaving a baffled angel in the hallway.

He comes back with the box in his hands, looking like he just won first prize at the first grade spelling bee.

“Surprise!” He lowers the box so he can see the little creature inside. “I found us a pet rat!”

Aziraphale’s eyes widen at the sight of the creature. It peers up at him with big googly eyes. “What is that?”

“I just told you, it’s a rat!”

Aziraphale is nonplussed. “What in Heaven-”

“Oh, don’t give me that look, angel. The little fella was in trouble! I found it by a trash bin on the sidewalk outside the grocery store, without hind legs, a broken tail, and covered in filth! What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t just leave it there. And besides, rats are very useful to keep around, you know, they’re great informants if you train them well and-”

“Yes, yes sweetheart, that’s all great,” he interrupts before he can keep rambling on, placing gentle hands on his upper arms. “I’m glad you rescued this…creature,” he looks at it doubtfully.

“...But?” he looks at him expectantly, almost pleadingly.

“I don’t think…Darling, I don’t think that’s a rat at all.”

Now it’s Crowley’s turn to look absolutely baffled. “What do you mean it’s not a rat? Of course it’s a rat! I think I know a rat when I see one,” he scoffs.

“It’s just. The head, look at its head, it’s too wide,” Aziraphale tries to explain patiently. “And I think it’s a little too big to be a rat-”

“What, so now rats can’t be a bit on the large side? That’s a bit hypocritic-”

“Don’t even go there,” He warns. Then, under his breath, “Thoughtyoulikedmesoft,” he looks off to the side, indignant.

“Angel, of course I do! Don't put words in my mouth. I love you! You’re gorgeous!”

Aziraphale can’t help his little grin.

“Point is. This rat needed help. So I brought it home.”

He sighs. “Dear. How should I put this?” He covers his hands with his palms on the sides of the box. “We can keep it, but-”

“Yeah?” Crowley smiles brightly.

“Yes. But we have to find out what kind of creature it is.”

“But-”

“Crowley I’m pretty sure it’s not a rat. It’s all wrong! Its body and legs just don’t match up!”

“Excuse me? I gave it those perfect ratty legs!”

“That doesn’t mean the creature originally had rat legs.”

“How would you know? Were you the original chief rat designer?”

“Well no, but neither were you-”

“But! But I’ve worked with rats before,” he points out. “They’ve helped me out on quite a few projects. I think I know a thing or two.”

“I just think we should verify it with an expert, just to be sure,” he gives him a stern look.

Crowley lets out a long sigh and rolls his head back, knowing that if he doesn’t accept defeat now, this will go on forever and ever and ever, and he’d much rather be having dinner right now. And he’s pretty sure the rat would too. “Alright. Fine.”

Aziraphale grins in his small victory and leans in to press a tender kiss to his cheek.

“I’ll go finish preparing dinner. Would you help me by putting the groceries away and setting the table?”

Crowley gazes back at him reluctantly. “What's for dinner?”

“Baked salmon and Mediterranean salad, with your fresh cherry tomatoes,” he smiles proudly.

“Yusssss!”

They have a nice dinner, and feed the (presumed) rat its own little piece of salmon with a small side of sliced cherry tomatoes and water in a little bowl.

When they're getting ready to go to bed, Crowley sets the box down beside his side of the bed and picks up the feisty little creature to help it get comfortable in its temporary setup by adding a couple fluffy towels to the base of the box. It promptly tries to bite his hand off.

“Ouch! You little shit!” he mutters and drops the creature on the floor along with the towels.

The creature scurries under the bed and growls at him from the shadows.

“Oh, no you don't. No wandering around the house just yet. Gotta show you around first so you won't get lost,” he tells the creature as he folds the towels into the box, creating a nest-like little thing for it.”C’mon now,” he whistles at it, beckoning it to come out.

It hisses at him. Crowley frowns. That's always worked with rats before. He tries whistling again but it stays put. He sighs and curls his finger up twice, magically pulling the creature out from under the bed. It is not pleased and it dares to scream at him. Crowley’s eyebrows shoot up. That's a new one. He's never heard a rat scream before, but he chalks it up to just nature being weird as usual. In favor of keeping his hand attached to his arm, he levitates the wriggling creature into its new makeshift bed. He watches it stand up on its hind legs and glare up at him menacingly with those big black eyes.

“Sweetheart?” Aziraphale pops his head out of the adjacent bathroom.

“Yeah?” Crowley glances up at him.

“The bath is ready. C’mon,” he smiles.

Crowley grins, giving the rat one last stern glance, and trots up to meet him in the bathroom and lets him help him out of his clothes as he does the same for him.

“I don't think the ratty likes me much,” he mumbles as they sit together in the tub after having washed each other.

“Why do you say that?” Aziraphale peers up at him from where he's nestled comfortably on his chest.

“It bit me, look!” He lifts his hand and shows him the tiny teeth marks on the back of his hand. “And it screamed at me when I pulled it out from under the bed.”

Aziraphale lifts an eyebrow. “I don't think rats scream.”

“Well, this one does.”

The angel sighs and presses a lingering kiss to the back of his hand, healing the mark. “Just give it time, dear. It's probably just not used to being cared for. Reminds me of someone I used to know.”

Crowley frowns. “Who?”

Aziraphale snickers under his breath and turns around to face him. “You, silly.”

“Are you comparing me to a rat?”

“I'm just pointing out a similarity.”

Crowley grumbles, and Aziraphale kisses his pout. Crowley dissolves into his lips.

They have to wash up all over again after that.

The next day, they take the (presumed) rat to a veterinarian and it gets diagnosed with, to quote the doctor himself, “It seems to be a young chihuahua with a slight deformation on its hind legs. Where did you say you found it?”

Crowley freezes time and stands still for a moment, clenching his jaw. Aziraphale bites back his I told you so and looks back and forth between the frozen doctor, Crowley, and the apparent chihuahua.

“Dear?”

“What the FUCK.”

They're sent home with a newly vaccinated chihuahua (with newly restored chihuahua legs thanks to Aziraphale), some dog food, and a few other supplies for the new member of the family. Crowley half considers walking straight into the ocean and never looking back. He sulks the entire drive home.

“It's not so bad, dear, really. Easy mistake to make,” Aziraphale says, trying to soothe his mortifying humiliation. “They're both such small creatures, how were you to know it was a dog?”

“Nrrgghh,” says Crowley.

“We don't have to keep it if it upsets you. We could give it into adoption-”

“No!”

“Are you sure?”

“Nghh it's just. It's just. It's not their fault they were thrown out onto the streets like that, and I picked them up and it would feel wrong to just kick them out again.”

“I see,” he pats his thigh gently. “Well then, we'll just have to learn how to take care of it then.”

“Can't be that hard. We’ve already raised a kid, how much different can it be?”

Not even a month later, The tiny dog-not-a-rat and Crowley are inseparable. They name her Ratty at Crowley’s insistence. Crowley becomes obsessed with teaching her little tricks like twirl, roll over, fetch, jump through a hoop, and to Aziraphale’s aggravation - hide books (only the small ones since she can't handle more than that), steal Aziraphale’s spectacles, and interrupt reading time with endless yapping. To make up for it, he also teaches her to deliver small gifts, like love letters tied to her back with a bow, little boxes of sweets, and flowers from the garden. Aziraphale is over the moon and welcomes the new attention wholeheartedly.

Then Crowley makes a tiktok account for her.

[slurpi13]

Demon Delivery

Summary: There wasn’t much Aziraphale wouldn’t put up with for a truly superb meal. But while dining out both luxuriously and otherwise was certainly typical, occasionally the angel desired a private night in.

Crowley had been the first to tempt his angel to the earthly pleasure of a good meal, and it was only right to see him through. Regardless of the meal being a takeaway, Aziraphale deserved no less than perfection, and that’s what he would have.

(OR: Crowley is one hell of a food delivery demon. Aziraphale rewards him thoroughly for his efforts.)

AO3

Explicit - 4127 words

The angel loved to dine in all forms, whether it be an unhurried evening of the finest wine and multi-course dining or a plate of greasy fish and chips.

By all means, Aziraphale preferred the luxurious experience of dining with Crowley at the Ritz—the hum of mild chatter, the soft piano melodies, and the posh excellence as he delighted in his dainty bites of decadence under the demon’s attentive observation. He did always appreciate the finer things, standards and all.

Nevertheless, the pair just as commonly frequented Aziraphale’s favorite chippy despite its typically boisterous crowd and modern decor, the angel mentioning the latter as if they were dirty words. The seating was lackluster, sleek stools and stiff booths, not accommodating to long, lavish dining events. The small shop was narrow and noisy, locals and tourists alike crowding around for their turn. A stray, accidental elbowing from said overexcited patrons wasn’t unusual, inciting warning hisses from the demon when Aziraphale was the recipient of such. Despite the atmospheric shortcomings, it was the best in London, according to the angel.

There wasn’t much Aziraphale wouldn’t put up with for a truly superb meal. But while dining out both luxuriously and otherwise was certainly typical, occasionally the angel desired a private night in.

Often, it was on a Tuesday—first of the month.

Crowley lounged upon his grand throne, one leg dangling over the armrest and chin balanced precariously against his palm. The screen of his phone glared back at him as the digital clock ticked over to five on the dot. Ever punctual, his phone began to vibrate with an incoming call. Straightening up in his seat, Crowley smirked, trying his best to keep it out of his voice as he held for an additional buzz before answering.

“Hello, angel.”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale began, delight in his tone as if it were half a surprise to find him on the other end, as if he didn’t know Crowley’s number by heart, as if he hadn’t just dialed it purposefully on the antique phone he kept in his shop. “Are you busy? I was wondering if you might like to come over.”

“Sure. M’not doing anything. Hungry?” He should have waited for Aziraphale to suggest or at least allude to it, but he couldn’t help himself, his own appetite already getting the best of him. Crowley had no doubt the angel noted it, despite no indication.

“Well, now that you mention it, I suppose I am feeling a bit peckish. Would you mind terribly picking up something on your way? Dreadful weather.”

The weather was dreadful, a steady pitter of cold rain dribbling down the window of Crowley’s flat. While Aziraphale did appreciate a sunny day, if rain and a chill stopped the angel from venturing out into the streets, he’d rarely leave the bookshop. Regardless of what excuse the angel may have, Crowley knew that it simply just so happened to be raining on this Tuesday, the first one of the month, when the pâtisserie Aziraphale favored rotated their offerings.

“What do you fancy?”

Aziraphale hummed, making a show of debating over what exactly he had a craving for, as though it hadn’t been on his mind before he’d called, if not all day. It was a formality, as was his polite insistence that Crowley choose something else if he’d rather when he finally settled on his request—three courses of Italian from a restaurant that would balk at the idea of a takeaway.

The angel was letting him off easy tonight.

Nothing crisp that needed to stay that way in a steamy container on a damp evening. Nothing that would spill and slosh onto his Bentley seats if Crowley didn’t cradle it gingerly with his free hand and drive at suboptimal speeds. Nothing that deflated once it reached a few perilous meters away from the oven or started melting the moment it touched room-temperature air. No celebratory towers of fragile pastry meant for parties being tucked away by a single, prim angel.

Slightly disappointed, Crowley’s smirk faded. “Anything else, angel?”

“Perhaps something for our dessert.”

Full fic on AO3.

[bakerstreethound]

🎻Send me a song 🎻 I’ll analyze it and tell you what fictional it reminds me of and the scenario that comes to my mind.

I know how much you love Sleep Token, I will pick their song 'Alkaline' for you. Have fun. 💙 ~ Bluebellinbakerstreet

I hope you are buckled up for the ride on this one because I adore Sleep Token’s music and will probably not shut up about it for a long time, so I thank you for sending one of their songs for I am chomping at the bit. I hope you enjoy some angst here! There is some softness if you squint.

Heart of Molecules

Contains spoilers for Good Omens Season 2; you have been warned! This is perhaps a love story, but not one you were expecting. Graphic by @firefly-graphics

Every once in a while something changes, and she's changing me. It's too late for me now, I am altered. There is something beneath. 

In short, Alkaline reminds me of a love story between Angel Crowley and the stars and nebulas he created. The absolute joy he radiates at his creations and the wonder and joy on his face are unmatched. He’s so unbelievably poud and happy at his gorgeous conjurings he worked on for who knows how long, before the beginning of time itself!

I’ve said this is a love story (and will continue to say so) this nebula and stars he falls in love with the complexity of the universe, knowing the significance of it that it’s too important to be erradicated. I would go so far as to say Aziraphale and the nebula Crowley created are both loved equally in Crowley’s eyes. 

She's not acid nor alkaline, caught between black and white. Not quite either day or night. She's perfectly misaligned. I'm caught up in her design, and how it connects to mine. I see in a different light the objects of my desire.

Again, it is Angel Crowley’s love letter to the universe he created and this ends up all being in a dream. Then he gets the notion this is the universe beckoning him home (even though he’s now a demon and needing refuge), and when he wakes along some old country road, asleep in his Bentley, and it all crushes back into him everything he lost and he wonders about the possibility of escaping back to his first love, the wonder of the stars, because he finds confort in them, as if it was a fragment of a memory long gone but he can’t pinpoint them. He knows the dream he has is definitely a call back to where he could be welcomed back with open arms, without judgement. 

It was comforting to him, yes and he could nurse what was left of his shattered heart. Which is  a reason the nebula poked at his dream, there’s still a connection to the universe he holds dear and he can’t stop thinking about them, for a creator cannot forget their creation. 

Ooh, let's talk about chemistry, 'Cause I'm dying to melt through to the heart of her molecules, till the particles part like holy water. If anything, she's an undiscovered element. Either born in hell or heaven-sent. Either way I'm into it. 

When he does return to Alpha Centuri the nebula there welcomes him, burning bright, welcoming him into her embrace. His glorious nebula burns brighter than ever, shifting in its form (almost human but not quite), wrapping him in their own sort of embrace, though he doesn’t feel the burn of them or is singed. He offers them a small smile, his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. 

 “Gosh,” he holds back a tear, “You’re gorgeous as ever.” 

The nebula swirls around him once again, in a show of excitement, bathing him in a cloakof stars and sunsets he recognizes. Almost akin to Joseph’s coat of many colors, it drapes along his shoulders shimmering and dancing amongst the stars, colors enhanced and forms to him as if it was always meant to be. In a way it was, for the creation had crafted it for their creator when they were no longer an angel, waiting for the day when they would return to return what rightfully belonged to them. 

Not acid nor alkaline, caught between black and white. Not quite either day or night. She's perfectly misaligned. I'm caught up in her design, and how it connects to mine. I see in a different light, the objects of my desire.

Crowley chokes back more tears for this was the more than he thought he deserved. Eons of having his heart broken the almost eternal pining for his angel up above. Perhaps one day they would meet again, but for now, he’s back where he belonged in a universe of his own creation, safe amongst the stars. Here they welcomed him home tenfold. Here he could perhaps find the peace to mend his broken heart. 

******

Ace's 5yr Celebration

[davidtennantgenderenvy]

eternal youth is overrated - a good omens one shot

Summary: Heartbreak and loneliness have left Crowley marked in more ways than one. Aziraphale helps him see that this isn’t such a bad thing.

NOTES: I’ve always had a bit of a bittersweet fascination with aging (David Tennant’s crows’ feet make me emo in ways I cannot hope to describe), with the sadness but also the beauty inherent in it, and I thought it could be interesting to bring this idea to good omens. The concept was “what if Crowley started getting grey hairs after Aziraphale leaves, if, over time, his physical appearance subconsciously changed to reflect his mental state?” The fact that I wrote this as a 19 year old honestly just shows how much I need therapy, but it was honestly incredibly cathartic to work through some of my own mental struggles via Crowley in this fic. Aziraphale’s pov was equally fun to write, as I basically just got to write how he feels about Crowley based on what I feel about David (lol). Hope you enjoy my first Good Omens one shot- I may or may not make an A03 account if it gets enough engagement, I’m honestly pretty proud of it! Special thanks to my wonderful partner in crime @flyingfluse for providing some much needed inspiration!

PS: The title is actually from a song I wrote called Grow Old With Me (hopefully will be available someday fingers crossed)

——————

It had been a year.

Nothing to a demon, really. In the vast expanse of six thousand years on earth, not to mention the innumerable eons Before The Beginning, a year didn’t count for much more than a blip. But heartbreak is a funny thing. Time, for Crowley, now seemed to pass in a much more human fashion- the year that had elapsed since Aziraphale’s return to heaven, a year devoid of anything resembling laughter or joy, a year spent largely either sleeping or stewing in self-loathing, had seemed longer than the past hundred combined.

Crowley’s gaze blearily wandered to the rearview mirror of the Bentley. His reflection, as everything seemed to these days, mocked him.

Those sickly yellow eyes, reminding him of all he was and all that he could never be, like the sulfur he had been cast into all those millenia ago. On his worst days, it was like he could still feel it, eating away at him from the inside out, decaying his soul and with it, his body. It carved shadows into his cheeks and circles beneath his eyes, deep and dark as caverns. It rose in his throat until he choked on it, leaving his voice hoarse and acrid. It spewed out of him onto everything and everyone, every time he opened his mouth, an acidic bile of rage and bitterness.

He had been destroyed and rebuilt over and over through the millenia, and the product was a rough, hardened callus of a being, like a patch of skin that had been picked at too many times. He felt grotesque, untouchable, damaged- there would be no point to pursuing any new connections when no one would understand, nor why would they want to, when he seemed to turn everything he held to ashes? 

A ray of sunlight leaked through the window of the Bentley, catching upon Crowley’s hair, revealing it to be littered with strands of grey, collecting dust-like in his copper mane. How the mighty have fallen, he thought bitterly. Falling, always falling, like leaves in autumn, their color draining as their forms grow brittle and they become one with the earth. From dust they were made, and to dust, they shall return.

Perhaps in a year, he would be dust too. What would he care?

Demons didn’t naturally age, or so he had thought. But loneliness seemed to have made a mortal out of Crowley, centuries of it crashing down upon his corporation, wearing it to the bones, etching his torment into his skin. He could always just miracle any part of himself back to the way it was, reverse all this damned erosion… but what would it matter? Why even try to keep his hair from losing its color when all the color had drained from his life the second his angel had left it?

He felt so, so old.

A single, desperate sob escaped Crowley’s mouth, cracking out of him like splintering firewood.

As he weeped against the steering wheel, the Bentley switched on its radio in sympathy. 

I’ve walked too long in this lonely lane,

I’ve had enough of this same old game.

I’m a man of the world, they say that I’m strong,

But my heart is heavy and my hope is gone.

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

    The demon lay curled in Aziraphale’s lap, clinging to his chest as a snake might in search of warmth. It clutched at Aziraphale’s soul to see Crowley this vulnerable, the swaggering and smirking stripped away to reveal a heart in desperate need of care and healing- a task Aziraphale considered his greatest duty and greatest pleasure, for he knew Crowley would do the same for him. 

    Aziraphale ran his fingers through Crowley’s hair, earning a deep sigh from his beloved, whose brows turned up in fragile, stirring comfort. He loved doing this, both to see how much his touch moved Crowley and because he simply loved his hair itself. Bold, striking, an instant head-turner, just like everything else about him. It was now the longest it had been since biblical times, falling in elegant waves past his shoulders. But oh, something else was different… it was streaked now with rivers of silver, gathering in deltas at his temples. It lit a familiar flame in Aziraphale’s chest; that bittersweet blend of desire and sympathy.

    “You’ve changed your hair, I see”, he said softly. 

     Crowley takes a labored swallow, strain and self consciousness seeping into his face. Whatever he says next, it’s clear that the admission is going to cost him.

     “When you left, I suppose I… let myself wither away.” His voice is lodged deep in his throat, thick and murky, leaking out of him like tar, a sound from the depths of his own personal hell. “Oh, Aziraphale…” he exhales, and it’s one of the most poignant Aziraphale has ever heard.  “I’m so tired. So worn down. So bloody ancient.”

      “So am I, my dear,” he says, trying to come across more soothing than concerned.

     “Yes, but you still shine in the same way you did all those millenia ago… still so bright, so soft.  I’m all tarnished and rusted up… I don’t know how you still want to touch me.”

     Aziraphale gazed down into Crowley’s eyes, piercing and pleading and fragile, like shattered stained glass. At his craggy, rough-hewn cheeks, all bones and edges he’d happily cut himself on to caress. At the deep, deep lines around his eyes, carved there by every grin and grimace and longing and ache. And oh, the silver in his hair… it suited him so, both rejecting and combining black and white with a color all his own. It wasn’t normal for immortal bodies, ethereal or occult, to bear the marks of time and experience as Crowley’s has. But then, Crowley was never an ordinary demon, or angel, was he? No, he was something far more exquisite. 

    “Oh, but I do… I  do…” Affection surges through Aziraphale as he kisses every crease and wrinkle, every scar and every glorious grey, every sign that his dear Crowley has lived. He feels Crowley’s hands winding through his hair in response and kisses those too, those eloquent, spindly fingers and calloused palms…

   “Crowley, my most cherished books… the covers are peeling, the pages are torn or yellowed with age… so why would you be any different?” His heart seizes up, his voice breaking a bit. “I have seen the fire and rain rage within you for so long, and I have seen the marks they have left upon you, and each one is precious to me. You know how I love to read… Why would I not want to see the story of my beloved written upon their face? My 

dear old serpent, my survivor…you don’t have to fight anymore…”

     He pulls Crowley tightly to his chest, drawing the tension from his shoulders and back before cupping the sides of his face as Crowley stares back, looking overwhelmed and old and so, so beautiful. “I want you exactly as you are. Rough and hard and frayed at the edges… you will never be too much of any of these things for me. In fact…” A slightly wicked twinkle forms in his eye as he smiles pointedly at Crowley: “They make you more tempting to me than ever.”

    Crowley processes this for a moment. “Well…” he croaks out, that hint of playful snark finding its way back into his throaty timbre, “I suppose there is something to be said for… shades of grey.” Aziraphale laughs, remembering the words he himself said to Crowley all those years ago, on the same night he realized just how much he adored him.

   Crowley smiles, that crooked, twisted, perfectly imperfect smile that Aziraphale missed, his eyes crinkling magnificently at the corners. “Kiss me,” he whispers, and Aziraphale is happy to oblige. Happy that Crowley, bold, fierce, independent Crowley, could finally let his guard down, could finally embrace that all of his scars and imperfections, every mark of time upon his face, everything he ever thought made him damaged and ugly only made him more beautiful in his sight.