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theonevoice · 7 months

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Have a gold star...

I swear, I started this as a wholesome innocent comment on how when Crowley has to think of a prize, after 6000+ years, his sweet head still goes to stars as the ultimate symbol of something beautiful and cherished.

But then I was struck by something: sarcasm.

Both times, when he tells someone to "have a gold star," he doesn't say it with a tone of affectionate irony, like the cool-but-sweet uncle with a rough personality but a soft heart. He says it with a tone of bitter sarcasm, of painful disenchantment.

Because it's not a prize that he is offering; it's a sop, a cruel joke-gift, something that will get you excited at first just because you have a stupid, naive, innocent soul, and you will later realize that it means nothing to the one who assigned it to you, and that they are ready to take it away whenever they want, while the rest of the world laughs at your ridiculous gullibility.

Because this is what stars were for him.

They were his beloved, exciting creation. The star-factory nebula was his cherished task, assigned to him by God, and he believed that it was meant to be a thing of beauty and splendor, and hold value in the grand scheme of the universe... only to discover, immediately after he created it, that it was never intended to have any value at all. It meant nothing to God. It wasn't even planned to last enough to fullfill its purpose. It was a joke, a cruel prank.

The stars were God's bad pun of giving angel!Crowley something to do, and love, and have hope and expectations for, and then taking it away. Revealing that it was just a shiny piece of gold cardstock that only a simpleton could consider valuable. Of course he can only say "have a gold star" as a dry snarky sarcastic comment on someone who thinks they have achieved something meaningful when it's actually nothing. Be it the Them defeating the Four Horsemen. Be it Muriel being noticed by the Metatron.

Great, sure, have a gold star, be all excited and squealing with happiness, it will turn into ashes before you even know it.

I am not sure that Crowley's snake eyes were ever intended to signal that he cannot see the stars because snakes have bad vision (even ignoring the zoological fact that they are sensitive to UV light though, so they should still see astronomical objects, in the book it says that demons must be able to see at night, and that's why Crowley doesn't need to turn on the lights on the Bentley), but for sure the Fall and Heaven's cruelty has ruined the stars for him, in a way.

Now, in his mind, they are the ultimate symbol of delusion, of naivety, of foolishly investing your love and passion and hopes in something, of stupidly ignoring that the things you cherish will be ruined or taken away from you or leave you on their own accord.

That's also why Aziraphale's "nothing lasts forever" cuts him so deep. That's why his "no... no, I dont' suppose it does" sounds so much like a truth that he is remembering instead of one that he has jsut discovered.

Here you go, you did it again, you thought you had something significant and instead it was just like your stars, you should have known that whenever you find something beautiful it's just a matter of time before you lose it, you shouldn't get too attached.

In s1e6 he says it to the Them, in s2e6 he says it to Muriel. I do hope that in s3e6 he will get the chance to say it again, but this time it will be honest and out of joy, because whatever is going to happen will make him able again to believe that you can be happy, and can hold onto the good things that you love. You can have all the gold stars, for real. They don't always have to disappear and leave you in pain. They can stay with you.

#he's still the starmaker deep down #have a gold star #good omens #good omens 2 #go2 #crowley #aziraphale #good omens thoughts #go2 spoilers #go 2 speculation #good omens 2 spoilers

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nutmeggery · 8 months

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I need Neil Gaiman to know that Good Omens 2 made me feel emotions I haven't felt in nearly a decade.

When I heard there was going to be a Good Omens 2 I was looking forward to it, of course. I just wasn't expecting it do anything super special to my emotions. I was sure I'd enjoy it, though. I really enjoyed s1.

But, for the last few years, I watched shows and afterwards basically thought well, that was fun, and I quickly moved on and didn't think much about them. There was only about 3 shows in the last 5 years that had made me feel truly emotional and stayed on my mind to the point where I felt like I needed to engage in fandom for a while. (Good Omens 1 was one of them.)

I wasn't spoiled by the leak. I never even knew there was a leak. So I had no idea what was coming in s2. And oh boy...

See, I'd watched Our Flag Means Death, a show where you don't expect the lead characters to kiss, because, well, that never happens in these types of shows, right? And this is important because when they did kiss, it felt like a door that had been locked with just about all the high security locks in the world had suddenly, inexplicably, been opened. Something switched inside me. It took me months to understand what it was, but when I thought about Good Omens before s2 came out, I realized what it was.

I would never truly enjoy a bromance they're-only-queer/in love-by-your-own-interpreation story ever again. Stories where nothing is confirmed, just subtext that anyone who doesn't want to see it can easily deny and mock those who wish it was more.

While it was clear that Crowley and Aziraphale cared a lot about each other in s1, and were probably in love, it was still just a fun ship for fans to play with in fanfiction and fanart. Do they love each other? Oh sure. In what way? Well, that's up to interpretation. Ok, cool. But it's not quite Our Flag Means Death, is it?

Then I watched Good Omens 2. And from episode 1 I saw my favourite Angel and Demon duo love each other. And I was having the best time. I hadn't had such a good time watching a show in a long while. It was not only right up my alley, it was an alley I wasn't even aware was my alley until I saw it. I enjoyed seeing the old characters, the new characters. Oh, I was wonderful.

It was clear to me that, of course Crowley and Aziraphale love each other, are IN love with each other, showing it in their own way. And I wasn't expecting it to be THIS obvious.

And then when the kiss happened, I couldn't believe it. I covered my mouth with both hands and gasped and sat up straight in my seat. I had never expected it--the heartbreak it added to the already heartbreaking scene--it rewired something inside me.

It was like my emotions had been locked up in a stall like a horse for so, so long, and now the gate had been opened, the stable door kicked down, and the horse was running out onto the large pasture into the daylight, bucking and kicking up grass. Oh my god, I have to take a few minutes to process that entire 6 hour marathon of emotions.

And by a few minutes I meant a few days.

More than a few, actually.

I didn't need a kiss to understand how much they loved each other, but I did need the kiss to understand how intense and heartbreaking their separation is for them after everything.

But more than that, the kiss broke a barrier. They really did it, I thought. They really dared.

Aziraphale and Crowley aren't human males, no, but they're played by male actors. And that is significant. That makes the kiss significant. In the world we currently live in.

Weeks later, I'm still obsessed with the show, re-watching s1 and 2, reading the book again, listening to the audio drama. And I'm on tumblr, seeing people's posts and art to somehow sate my hunger for a s3 that doesn't exist (yet).

And I'm having a wonderful time.

#good omens #good omens 2 spoilers #go2 #neil gaiman #im queer and emotional #NEIL LIKED IT?!#asdsdksfksnvkjdnvdkjvd

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seven-stars-in-his-palm · 16 days

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analyzing some images (for fun)

so i found this pair of promotion images for good omens season 1 on the good omens reference library server and it’s hooked me so so bad im having feelings about it. we’re analyzing them now. not really for meta purposes just fun to see the parallels and differences :)

everything under the cut !

unique traits

aziraphale:

1) his plank background. its older, its crisp, it smells like wood from the screen. mmmm

2) the pencil shavings at the bottom. he does a lot of writing honestly, so i like this. also adds a messy and cozy vibe he always seems to have in that shop…. i like that blessed shop fr

3) his SUSHI. little soy sauce drops near it too—just the right amount of deliberate mess. our first formal introduction to aziraphale in the present day and beginning the Tomfoolery just happens to have sushi... i watch that scene and i go “yeah, that sums up aziraphale i suppose” very nicely. (they dont have sushi Up There) (im literally never gonna forget that)

4) the ray of light shining on the scene. tiny thing, but a bit of the heaven is peeking through..it also sort of blurs the whole image but i think thats just me.

5) and we’ve saved the best for last: the big whopper. the nice and accurate prophecies of agnes nutter, witch. I LOVE THAT BOOK!!!!!!! i cant remember if that ring stain was there but if it isnt in the show on the actual book i’d assume thats to add that ‘thy cocoa doth grow cold’ thing. ALSO. you know what’s being used as a bookmark in the pages?? a check for the ritz. he bookmarked their one chance for living . with a ritz check . MMMMMM. my GOD. that means so much to me even if i cant convey it in words. he KEEPS THE CHECKS 😭😭😭😭😭😭

crowley:

1) let me get my favorite out of the way. crowley’s glasses have fire in their reflection. we’ll talk about the glasses themselves later but the REFLECTION IN THEM. fucking FIRE, BOOKSHOP fire, PAIN, SRIVING THROUGH THE M-25, HELL, I DONT KNOWIM HAVING FEELINGS!!! i do believe this is a bookshop fire reference though, the flames feel too Familiar. the lengths people will go to to attack others 🤧

2) the leather seat background!!!!!!! probably meant to look similar to the bentley’s seats but i cant recall their texture, exactly. maybe just meant to convey modernness—unsure. still, its there <3

3) the tiny little crisp plant </3 its trying his damned best to stay perfect. it might a specific plant that means something, but i cant tell at thsi angle, so i’ll assume its a mini version of the ficus he keeps in the flat. its so SMALL and sitting in ANOTHER POT i CANT

4) the snake slithering!! black and red (in this image it looks orange lol) bellied scales!!!! slithering there, chilling, being crowley, showing hints. love it

5) QUEEN RECORD!!!!! TRYING TO OVERRIDE IT WITH TCHAIKOVSKY!!!!!! the tape over it does a reminisence to crowley’s handwriting, but in a clean ‘this made made to be a font’ way. not exactly just yet. ive become a fan of tchaikovsky recently. amazing darling wonderful crowley, trying to push the rock up the hill for eternity 😞

6) HIS LITTLE DEMON KEY THING. HOLDING A TINY LITTLE BENTLEY CAR KEY OHHH. thats how he doesnt lose the tiny key despite probably not needing one of those. and he CHOSE that intentionally probably. little wings and red circle….URGHHHHHHH

similarities

mmmmm now here’s the good shit. similarities! i’ll bullet point most of them but ohhhhh. ohhhh these. i’ll go from top to bottom as best i can….

1) one of their shoes, obviously. crowley has them iconic snakeskin shoes while aziraphale has his old loafers like the old loafer he is /pos

2) chateauneuf de pape wine bottle labels! (crowley’s is under his glasses, aziraphale’s is next to his shoe). oh my fucking god theyre MATCHING. the labels are old, battered, of course labeling the drink’s age, but mmmmm its these tiny details that get me going….

3) their respective drinks in their mugs—crowley’s a black mug coffee (or what looks to be coffee) and aziraphale’s angel mug tea (or what looks to be tea). i think about that mug sometimes. where did he get that from?? mystery for the ages….

4) their glasses, of course. crowley’s iconic sunglasses and aziraphale’s reading spectacles. i cant really tell the reflections in this pair, but if its supposed to be fucking fire, im done with this. im giving up forever

5) their own watches! aziraphale’s is visibily older while crowley’s is visibly modern, but they function just the same. also, crowley’s is set to 2:56:59 (presumably PM), which is around the time we see when crowley starts checking his watch at warlock’s birthday party. its almost time for disaster to strike!! 😃

6) and finally….their ties!! they have their own ties!!! or more accurately, neck accessories, but i digress. i mesn i assume its crowley’s neck tie, because the fabric looks… different. either way, crowley’s neck thingie is very whispy and aziraphale has his funky little bowtie i love so much,,,

okay thats it. there’s no canonical implications, any fantheories, none of the sort. just saw a pair of images and my mind went GOD DAMN!!!!!! theyre very important to me. i need to look at more promo material 😔

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable spouses #dont have an analyzing tag so. this is it for now

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mind-empty-just-fictional-people · 8 months

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Love Language

masterlist

summary: you’ve never said it, neither has he…is that weird?

paring: dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 0.6k

warnings: language, not being able to say “i love you”, talk of sex

author’s note: i always found it interesting dean never told lisa he loved her…like ever. which is strange to me, considering how long they were together?

gif source

Three whole years you’d been with Dean, and neither of you saw an end anywhere in sight. You had grown up a hunter and you’d hit it off with Dean almost instantly when you had met him about five years ago. What started off as a wholesome friendship became deeper and more passionate after a night of drinking.

He cared about you so fucking much, you cared about him too. You were deeply in love. But neither of you had ever actually said love.

It was beginning to really bother you. Why hadn’t he said it? Every other relationship you had up until now had imploded long before the three-year-mark because of your inability to say the three big words.

Did Dean not love you? Maybe that’s why he hadn’t said it yet. You knew you felt that way about him, that you L-worded him, but maybe he didn’t feel the same way.

“You okay?” Dean asked when he looked up from the lore book he was reading and was met with your blank stare.

“Yeah…just thinking.”

“About?”

“Do you think it’s weird we haven’t said you-know-what to each other yet?” you asked. He furrowed his brows before he realized what you meant.

“Oh…no? No, definitely not.”

“Dean,” you sighed, closing the book in front of you. “I care about you so much it’s fucking insane but-”

“Right back at ‘cha! Let’s just leave it at that,” he cut you off.

“But, isn’t it strange we can’t say you-know-what? I mean I’d fucking die for you and I can’t say the three words? That’s fuckin’ weird!”

“To be fair, you have died for me. Like twice now,” he replied, trying to lighten the mood. You smiled a little. “And maybe we haven’t said the words but we’ve done other things.”

“If you’re talking about sex right now I swear to god-”

“No!” he chuckled. “I’m talking about that time you jumped in front of a bullet for me. I’m talking about when you were dying in my arms and I made a deal with Crowley to save you. I’m talking about how you bring me chicken noodle soup when I’m sick and force me to stay in bed till I’m feeling better. I’m talking about how many times I’ve bought you tampons and pads and chocolates so you didn’t have to leave the bunker when you were on your period.

“I’m talking about letting you drive Baby, I’m talking about you letting me use your precious espresso machine. I’m talking about the way I look at you when you aren’t looking, and the way you laugh at my clearly un-funny jokes. I’m talking about holding you when you cry and bringing you breakfast in bed. I’m talking about you letting me sleep on your boobs because they’re more comfortable than our pillows even though I know you’re sore in the morning.”

You let out a laugh and slightly rolled your eyes, though you were swelling inside. Dean smiled as he continued.

“I’m talking about those three words that we don’t even have to say because we prove to eachother we feel it every fucking day.”

“God damn it Dean Winchester!” You shook your head, still smiling. You got off the chair, walked around the table, and sat down in his lap. You put your hands on his face and kissed him sweetly. “You mean everything to me, you know that?”

“I do,” he whispered as you rested your forehead on his. “Do you know how much you mean to me?” You nodded. “See, then I think that’s enough.”

“Me too,” you replied before you kissed him again.

#spn #dean x reader #supernatural #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester #dean winchester comfort #dean winchester x you #supernatural fluff #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #by mind empty just fictional people #by mind empty just fictional people #by jean

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queerfables · 7 months

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Alright GO fans, let's talk Sodom and Gomorrah. This biblical story comes up a few times in Good Omens canon, a kind of offhand mention each time, and the most interesting part to me is the implication that Aziraphale was there.

If you only know the cliff-notes version, you've probably heard it as the story of God condemning homosexuality to the point of wiping out several cities over it. Maybe you've heard this too, but - that's not exactly what happened. Look, I'm an atheist, I have no dog in this race. If I thought it was about smiting people for homosexuality, I'd be happy to call God a wanker and move on. But I've read the story of Sodom and Gomorrah (You can too! It's very short!) and I've read other parts of the Bible that reference it, and I think a much more straightforward interpretation is that it's about offering hospitality and protection to strangers. It's also about the consequences of wanton cruelty, and God laying waste to those deemed beyond salvation.

In Good Omens, the book, Aziraphale and Crowley discuss Sodom and Gomorrah this way:

"Come off it. Your lot get ineffable mercy," said Crowley sourly.

"Yes? Did you ever visit Gomorrah?"

"Sure," said the demon. "There was this great little tavern where you could get these terrific fermented date-palm cocktails with nutmeg and crushed lemongrass-"

"I meant afterwards."

"Oh."

According to the book, then, Aziraphale at least saw the city after it was destroyed. Maybe Crowley saw the aftermath too or maybe he just heard about it. They both understand it as horrific.

The show is more direct, and suggests that Aziraphale was there during the actual destruction. Gabriel asks if Aziraphale remembers Sandalphon. Aziraphale does.

"Sodom and Gomorrah. You were doing a lot of smiting and turning people into salt. Hard to forget."

Aziraphale regards Sandalphon warily during the conversation. I believe we're supposed to interpret this scene based on the popular understanding of Sodom and Gomorrah as cities that God wiped out because of the inhabitants' sins. The obvious implication, then, is that Sandalphon is the heavy, the one called in to deal with disobedience. He's trigger-happy, relishes violence, and Aziraphale has seen what he's capable of. From the careful way Aziraphale discusses their prior acquaintance, I think he feels the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah was a tragedy and believes Heaven's actions were disproportionate and unjust.

I'm confident this is how we're supposed to read the scene. In the context of the story, we're supposed to understand that Aziraphale doesn't approve of the smiting, and that he feels threatened by Gabriel and Sandalphon coming into his bookshop and pressing him about Armageddon. But I'm fascinated by what it would mean if Aziraphale and Sandalphon's history really tracks onto the story of Sodom and Gomorrah. Because if Good Omens' version of Sodom and Gomorrah is at all biblically accurate, and if Aziraphale was there... it's kind of mind-blowing, actually, that he still feels so much compassion for the people who died and still thinks Sandalphon was wrong.

I'm going to explain why, but fair warning, it gets ugly. I promise nobody is actually raped, and I think that promise in itself says plenty.

According to the Bible, Sodom and its surrounding cities are accused of being overrun with sin. God sends two angels to Sodom to verify this, intending to destroy everything if they find it to be true. In the world of Good Omens, I think one of these angels must be Aziraphale. The other one is likely Sandalphon, but in the Bible it's God rather than either of the angels who rains down burning sulfur on the cities so it's possible it's someone else, and Sandalphon is only on smiting duty. Without anything else to go on, though, let's assume it's Sandalphon.

So our two angels arrive at Sodom in the evening, and at the gate to the city, they meet Lot. Lot is an immigrant who has made his home in Sodom, and I think the implication is that this is why he's not completely steeped in sin like everyone else. In any case, he immediately offers to put the angels up for the night, and although they'd planned to stay in the square, Lot is really insistent. He is a good host! Also, he knows the city is dangerous. So the angels go to his house and he makes dinner for them, and then before they can go to bed, a mob shows up at the door.

See, the men of Sodom have heard about the strangers staying with Lot. They surround his house and demand he hand them over. The New King James Version puts it this way: And they called to Lot and said to him, "Where are the men who came to you tonight? Bring them out to us that we may know them carnally." Several other translations say that the men wanted to "have sex with them". But I mean. It's a fucking mob. They've surrounded the house. We all get what this is, right?

So Lot goes out to meet the men, and he says "Don't do this terrible thing." Off to a good start! Then he says, "Tell you what, I have two virgin daughters. Do what you like to them and we'll say no more about it." Oh boy. Dad of the year award, right there. But still, he insists, "The angels are under my roof and my protection."

The men outside Lot's house are pissed. They say, "You're an outsider, who are you to judge us?" They threaten to do worse to him than to the angels. They swarm him and almost break the door down, but the angels pull him back inside.

The angels then strike the mob with blindness to stop them getting into the house. They say to Lot, "Look, you gotta take your family and get out of here. God sent us to see how bad things were and, uh, long story short, we're burning it all to the ground. You get it, right?"

Maybe you know the rest. Lot's son-in-laws don't believe him and won't leave the city. Lot's wife looks back and turns into a pillar of salt. Lot and his daughters take shelter in a small town called Zoar, and from there flee to the mountains. Everything else is destroyed.

It is a tragedy. The plains are leveled down to ash, until there's nothing left that can even grow. Was there really no one innocent in those cities? No children or animals? (You can't kill kids). Still, I think about that awful night under Lot's roof and I don't think I could blame anyone for giving up on all of it.

So what if that's the story? There were two angels in Sodom before it fell. What if it really was Aziraphale and Sandalphon, trapped through the night in a stranger's house, surrounded by men who want to rape them. Whatever their power as angels, that has to be terrifying.

If it was Sandalphon there with Aziraphale that night in Sodom, I have to wonder what he was like. There isn't any kinship or understanding from Aziraphale. Despite knowing the circumstances better than anyone, he still sees Sandalphon as a threat. Given that, I think Sandalphon must have taken a truly disturbing kind of joy in raining down vengeful fire and brimstone, beyond what you might expect from someone who was afraid or angry. Maybe he was never afraid; maybe instead he revelled in the violence building through the night as the reason he needed to tear everything down. Maybe he was afraid in the terrible way that exposes the depths someone will sink to to protect themselves (maybe offering his daughters was never Lot's idea). Or maybe Aziraphale just tried to reach out to him afterwards, to offer understanding and ask for some in return, and Sandalphon shot him down so coldly and viciously that Aziraphale knew immediately this wasn't something he was allowed to have feelings about. Whatever happened that night, it left Aziraphale feeling more of an outsider from Heaven than ever.

But if it happened that way, it happened this way too: Aziraphale survives a night like that, and when he looks out into the breaking dawn, he thinks, these cities don't deserve to burn. He sees the good in a place that's just shown him its absolute worst. I think that says everything about him as a character, actually. Of course he won't give up on Heaven. Of course he'll fight tooth and nail for his home on Earth. Whatever the worst is, there are still things worth saving. There are still, always, people worth protecting.

On that note, before I wrap this up, I want to go back to Lot's words to the men of Sodom, and draw a parallel that makes me feel some kind of way. Because when Lot declares the angels under his protection, what he says is essentially, "Do not do anything to these men, for they have come under the shadow of my roof for protection." And all I can think about, reading these lines, is Aziraphale standing in his bookshop as it's surrounded by hostile demons, and telling the angel under the shadow of his roof, "You came to me. I said I would protect you. And I will."

#good omens #good omens meta #fable talks good omens

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hikarry · 4 months

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Badass Aziraphale is fun. We love to see him with all the divine wrath and playing the protector he was meant to be, blinded by love and duty. Eyes everywhere and flaming sword at hand ready to smite or confront anyone that dares step his way

And that's the version we see the most in the fandom. Vengeful angel Aziraphale Guard of the Eastern Gate raining righteous fury over anyone who dares harm Crowley

It's beautiful. Poetic even. I love it

BUT

There is nothing in this whole fandom that's more powerful and gorgeous than protective Crowley

That man knows what is like to lose the love of his life. He has lived it, for as brief as it might have been. All the despair, the lost of hope, the absolute loneliness. He has been there and that's a place he refuses to go back to

All the fear turned into rage. Ready to burn down Heaven and flood Hell to protect his angel. He might not be the strongest and he might not be a match for more than one archangel at a time, but he would rather die than let anyone take Aziraphale away from him again

He would become so blindsided by terror he wouldn't stop to think about the consequences. His only target is Aziraphale and Aziraphale only and he would pull any stunt to make sure he was safe and, do you wanna know the best part? This is canon

We have snippets of protective Crowley all throughout season 2 but this scene? Oh boy, this scene

Crowley doesn't trust Gabriel. He tolerates him because he promised Aziraphale he would help, but he is on high alert

As soon as Shax shows up and threatens Aziraphale, he redirects his fear turned rage towards his main target: Gabriel. Because this is his fault. Beelzebub is looking for HIM. They/Heaven indirectly threatened Aziraphale with being erased from the Book of Life because of HIM. If something happens to Aziraphale because of this stupid charade he got himself involved with because he promised to protect Gabriel, Crowley will hold no punches

He's already full to the brim with the stunt Gabriel pulled during Aziraphale's "trial". Oh no, Crowley hasn't forgotten his words and his righteous smile while he condemned the man he loves to death even though some years have gone by and he is still furious about it

He is a wrong step away from exploding and destroying everything that presents itself as a threat to Aziraphale in the moment.

He is so scared of everything (Gabriel, Beelzebub, Shax, Heaven in general, the Book of Life) that he spends most of the season compressed like a spring ready to pounce at the minimal real show of danger

The only reason he leaves Aziraphale with the demons in the bookshop to go and try to figure out what the absolute fuck is going on is exactly because the demons can't enter said bookshop and he trusts everyone present not to be stupid enough to let them in (I'm sorry, Maggie. I still love you babes)

The worst part is: all his fury, all his rage and fear are useless in the end because Aziraphale walks into the danger willingly and Crowley would face anyone that tried to hurt his angel, but the angel himself

Don't get me wrong, he sees the danger. Maybe a tad to late. After the demons are gone and so is Gabriel and Beelzebub, he let's his guard down and allows himself to truly relax, planning their little breakfast at the Ritz

Because he thinks it's over. He was completely blindsided by Metatron. He himself says "Go angel. No problem. Can't get weirder than whatever the fuck just happened". Oh my poor sweet summer child

But he does see the danger eventually and goes on high alert again, but it's too late. He would never hurt Aziraphale, but he pulls all the weapons on his arsenal to try and stop him from going where he can't follow. Where he can't protect him

And he fails. Like he always feared he would. Not only showing his hand to Aziraphale in a desperate attempt to protect him but also losing him in the process with nothing he can do about it but watch his angel go until the very last second

#im feeling angsty today dont @ me #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #david tennant #michael sheen #anthony j crowley

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calcifiedunderland · 7 months

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Pride & Prejudice: A TWSTed AU

ft. Overblot Gang x GN Reader

“It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single leader in possession of power, fortune, and intellect, must be in want of a partner.”

“Pfft-“ you snorted to yourself, flipping through the pages. “What kind of story is this?”

Earlier that day, you and Grim had decided to clear out one of the rooms at Ramshackle. After a brief jump-scare from Crowley (who showed you how to make furniture out of a magic hammer?), the two of you were now on your way to making a ‘Guest Room.’ Finally, gone were the days of your friends groaning about your dusty couch and cobweb-filled living room!

But that also meant that the boxes in the room had to be moved out. Most of them held thread-bare cloth and other dusty knickknacks, but a few held books that looked as though they hadn’t been held in ages. Out of sheer curiosity and boredom (and the fact that Ramshackle had no internet whatsoever), you cracked open one of them and started reading, with Grim snoozing soundly on your lap.

“What are you reading, Prefect?” One of the Ramshackle ghosts wafted to you, resting on the armchair back behind you. You turned the book to read the cover, frowning, “Prejudice and Pride, by Jean August. It’s kind of ridiculous.” You ran a hand over the dusty cover, “I think we had something like this in my world, too.”

The ghost immediately grinned, “I remember this from when I was alive!” He dove in front of you, taking the book and flipping through it at phantom speed. “This was one of our required readings! Ah, you living folk miss out on the classics,” he sighed wistfully. “Here, this was the best part!”

You took the book and read through it. It seemed to be a love confession, where the main male lead was telling the female lead how much he ‘ardently admired and loved her’ and failed miserably.

“Wow, that’s cringe,” you winced, skimming the page. “And also unrealistic. I mean, who falls in love with someone they hate? And who starts a love confession with ‘you suck, but I love you anyway I guess’? Why the hell would they think that would even work?!” You and the ghost laughed, and continued reading together.

~•~

“The Prefect is… interesting, but not enough to tempt me!”

He remembered telling his dorm mates this exact phrase, after bristling at a group of underclassmen gossiping amongst themselves. It was no secret that you and he were close - after several overblots at school, it would’ve been impossible not to be. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself. It wasn’t like he laid awake at night, thinking about you right? How ridiculous would that be!

Meanwhile in his room, several hours later, the young dorm leader frowned, feeling restless. It was already close to sunrise, but he wasn’t able to drift off to sleep despite the exhaustions that came with leading an entire dorm. Instead of sleep and his impending responsibilities, his mind drifted.

Over the school year, he’d been able to push down his feelings (Sevens knew it was easy, and his overblot proved it), but now, it was impossible to deny it. This will not do, he thought, huffing irritably and sitting up in bed, absently rubbing his temple.

In vain, he’d struggled. But it couldn’t be denied, and despite his best and fiercest efforts to negate it, his feelings couldn’t be repressed. You’d proven yourself to be an unrelenting figure at Night Raven College - someone who he thought would be insignificant compared to his talent and renown. And yet. And yet.

Somehow you’d wormed your way into his life, to where it hurt to think of you as insignificant. Because how could an extraordinary person like you ever be insignificant? In his pre-overblot days, he was stubborn and yet still too prideful to even consider another way of thinking. But then you came along, and made him question everything, from previous prejudices to his own bittersweet pride.

You, who fell unceremoniously out of a coffin during the sorting ceremony with a little blue fiery cat, and scurried around the school running errands and odd jobs. You, who was once a passing glance, who became one of the things in the school he looked forward to seeing the most. You, with your heart of gold unshaken by the trials and tribulations thrown at you, day after day.

The feeling dawned on him, settling heavily and uncomfortably in their entire being. As the sun began rising, his mind reeled and he closed his eyes, the light bathing his room in a soft, pleasant glow. A warmth enveloped the room, but then a sudden chill ran down his spine. It was then, that he realized it:

He truly and ardently admired and loved you.

Now, he simply had to tell you so.

Now, dear Prefect, take his hand:

The Rose Red Tyrant: R. Rosehearts

The Usurper from the Wilds: L. Kingscholar

The Merchant from the Depths: A. Ashengrotto

The Schemer of the Scalding Sands: J. Viper

The Beautiful Tyrant: V. Schoenheit

The Keeper of the Underworld: I. Shroud

The Ruler of the Abyss: M. Draconia

———

notes: i really hope this wasn’t too cringe towards the end with the P&P refs but here we go! Seven chapters to plan AH, I can’t believe I twst-ified jane austen 💀

Chapters are coming soon!! A few are in the works!

Thank you to everyone who was interested in this idea!! What started as some brainrot has become bigger brainrot lmao, I fully appreciate it~

Take care shrimpies!!

———

Taglist: @eclecticprincecollector

@ars-tral @cerisescherries, @thehollowwriter, @twst-eeps,

(If your user is in bold, I wasn’t able to tag you for some reason 😅)

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cobragardens · 7 months

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The Golden Lion

For all that Aziraphale is the more frightened of the two of them, Crowley is the snake: he camouflages himself carefully, and his first instinct is always to flee.

Aziraphale's is to stay. He insists on facing the Apocalypse. He insists on facing the Second Coming. He insists on trying to make a difference. He doesn't want to go up to Heaven, but he does it anyway, alone, because he wants to stop the destruction of Earth (again) and keep Crowley safe.

He's very difficult to shame, too. He never gives up his innocent pleasure in eating, even though Heaven, Hell, and probably people on Earth all mock him for it. He's soft and he remains soft, even after Gabriel shames him for both his physical and metaphorical softness. That takes a lot of strength and an unshakeable character.

You know the gold ring Aziraphale wears as a badge of office, that functions as the counterpart to Crowley's snake tattoo? The charge on that ring is a lion.

The heraldic attitude of the lion is rampant (i.e., reared up): it stands on its hind legs with its forelegs raised, as though attacking, and its head is forward-facing: it looks forward, toward the future.

Obviously in popular symbolism, lions represent bravery, and that definitely fits Aziraphale. He's literally leaving the only person who has ever loved him to go make the universe a better place for that person and for everyone, and he's going alone amongst the people who have despised and shamed him his whole existence and tried to kill him at least once; those people are mfing Heaven and have been entrenched in their power for thousands or millions of years. It doesn't get a whole lot braver than that.

In Christian symbolism specifically, the lion represents Christ. (He's referred to in the book of Revelation as the "lion of Judah" because the heraldic symbol for the tribe of Judah was a lion and Jesus was said to be from the tribe of Judah because his [step]father Joseph was from Judah.)

Normally when a story draws a parallel between a character and Christ, the parallel is one of self-sacrifice. That's not what's happening here. When symbolism for Christ represents his self-sacrifice, Jesus is invariably associated with a lamb--the sacrificial lamb--not a lion. When that symbolism represents Christ's mercy or holiness or divine nature/ordination, the dove of the Holy Spirit is used.

But the lion is a symbol inherited from the Old Testament. It represents royalty, power, threat, and seizure from others by force. Jesus is symbolically depicted as the lion upon his return to Earth during the book of Revelation. The lamb is Jesus' self-sacrifice and death for the sins of humanity, but the lion is Jesus' return, powerful, royal, and triumphant.

Does Aziraphale's ring foreshadow his involvement in the Second Coming of Christ? Probably! Is it a symbol that Heaven is the proverbial (and biblical) "lions' den" where they should be doves and lambs? Maybe.

I think it more likely that Aziraphale himself will be the lion, on a righteous rampage like Jesus chasing the moneylenders from the steps of the temple, telling them "It is written, My house shall be called the house of prayer; but ye have made it a den of thieves." Because the ring is a signet ring, meant to impress a seal that legally represented the wearer as an individual. So the lion is linked to Aziraphale himself.

Aziraphale is soft. It is one of his very best qualities. And soft and weak are not the same thing: because he is soft, he tried to kill the Antichrist, a child. Because he is soft, he stood alone before a demon in defiance of the will of Heaven and demanded with no power whatsoever to back him up that the demon spare children whose murder God had authorized. He, an angel of God, worked with a demon to deceive the Heavenly Host and, as he points out himself, thwart the will of God. Even before that, because he was soft, Aziraphale gave humans the gift of fire and self-protection and then lied to God Herself about it. I mean it literally does not get any more courageous than that.

And I can't stop thinking about what that lion, and that softness, and the link between the two is going to mean for S3.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens aziraphale's ring #aziraphale's ring #aziraphale #good omens analysis

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youryurigoddess · 4 months

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A nightingale sang in the London Blitz

When exactly was that certain night, the night Aziraphale and Crowley met — and spoke for the first time in 79 years in the midst of the London Blitz?

And what’s the deal with the nightingale’s song, really?

Grab something to drink and we’ll look for some Clues below.

The night they met

The Blitz, short for Blitzkrieg (literally: flash war) was a German aerial bombing campaign on British cities in the WW2, spanning between 7 September 1940 and 10 May 1941. The Luftwaffe attacks were carried out almost non stop, with great intensity meant to force a capitulation and similarly strong impact on British life and culture at the time.

Starting on 7 September 1940, London as the capital city was bombed for nearly 60 consecutive nights. More than one million London houses were destroyed or damaged, and more than 20,000 civilians were killed, half of the total victims of this campaign.

The night of 29 December 1940 saw the most ferocity, becoming what is now known as the Second Great Fire of London. The opening shot of the S2 1941 minisode is a direct reference to recordings of that event, with the miraculously saved St Paul’s Cathedral in the upper left corner.

The actual raid lasted between 06:15 and 09:45 PM, but its aftermath continued for days. The old and dense architecture of this particular part of the city turned into a flaming inferno larger than the Great Fire of 1666. Multiple buildings, including churches, were destroyed in just one night by over 100,000 bombs.

Incendiary bombs fell also on St Dunstan-in-the-East church that night, the real-life location of this scene as intended by Neil. It was gutted and again claimed by fire in one of the last air rides on 10 May, when the bomb destroyed the nave and roof and blew out the stained glass windows. The ruins survived to this day as a memorial park to the Blitz.

Such a delightfully Crowley thing to do: saving a bag of books with a demonic miracle adding to the biggest catastrophe for the publishing and book trade in years. 5 million volumes were lost, multiple bookshops and publishing houses destroyed in the December 29th raid alone.

Even without this context, judging by the seemingly unending night, overwhelming cold and darkness, broken heating at the theatre, and seasonal clothing (like Aziraphale and Crowley’s extremely nice winter coats), it’s rather clear that it was the very beginning of the year 1941.

Everything suggests that Aziraphale and Crowley’s Blitz reunion happened exactly 1900 years after their meeting in Rome — which, according to the script book, took place between 1 and 24 January 41 (Crowley was right: emperor Caligula was a mad tyrant and didn't need any additional tempting; there's a reason why he was murdered by his closest advisors, including members of his Praetorian Guard, on 24 January 41).

Interestingly, both events involved a role reversal in their otherwise stable dynamic, with Aziraphale spontaneously taking the lead instead of letting the demon be the one to do all the tempting and saving, and ended with a toast.

The S2 Easter Egg with the nuns of the Chattering Order of St Beryl playing table tennis at the theatre suggests that the Blitz meeting happened on a Tuesday afternoon, which doesn’t match any of the above mentioned days, but sets the in-universe date for 7 January 1941 or later.

The Chattering Order of Saint Beryl is under a vow to emulate Saint Beryl at all times, except on Tuesday afternoons, for half an hour, when the nuns are permitted to shut up, and, if they wish, to play table tennis.

The nightingale

January means one thing: absolutely no migratory birds in Europe yet. They’re blissfully wintering in the warm sun of Northern Africa at the time. But, ironically, when the real nightingales flew off, a certain song about them suddenly gained popularity in the West End of London.

It might be a shock, but A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square wasn’t a hit from the start — even though its creators, Eric Maschwitz and Manning Sherwin, were certainly established in their work at this point. The song was written in the then-small French fishing village of Le Lavandou shortly before the outbreak of the Second World War with first performance in the summer of 1939 in a local bar, where the melody was played on piano by the composer Manning Sherwin with the help of the resident saxophonist. Maschwitz sang his lyrics while holding a glass of wine, but nobody seemed impressed. It took time and a small miracle to change that.

Next year, the 23-year-old actress Judy Campbell had planned to perform a monologue of Dorothy Parker’s in the upcoming Eric Maschwitz revue „New Faces”. But somehow the script had been mislaid and, much to her horror, replaced with the song A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square. She had never professed to be a singer but even so, she gathered her courage and went out onto the moonlit set dressed in a white ball gown. Her heartfelt rendition of the now evocative ballad captured the audience’s imagination and catapulted her West End career to stardom.

It was precisely 11 April 1940 at the Comedy Theatre in Panton Street and the revue itself proved to be a great success — not only it kept playing two performances nightly through the Blitz, but also returned the next year. And the still operating Comedy Theatre is mere five minutes on foot from the Windmill Theatre, where Aziraphale performed in 1941, and not much longer from his bookshop.

Now, most Good Omens meta analyses focus on Vera Lynn’s version of the song from 5 June 1940, but it didn’t get much attention until autumn, specifically 15 November, when Glenn Miller and his orchestra published another recording. And Glenn Miller himself is a huge point of reference in Good Omens 2.

According to the official commentary the infamous credits scene is establishing Aziraphale and Crowley’s final resolve for the next season using the same narrative device The Glenn Miller Story (1954) does in its most crucial scene. It starts with the tune (and audio in general) totally flat, then adds a piano on one side, and gradually becomes fully multidimensional. The Good Omens credits not only emulate the same sound effect, but bring it to the visual side of the narrative by literally combining the individual perspectives of the two characters together. Even though they’re physically apart, their resolve — and love to each other — brings them even closer than before. Aziraphale smiles not because he’s being brainwashed, but because he knows exactly what to do next.

Some of you might have noticed that Tori Amos’s performance for Good Omens is actually a slightly shortened version of Miller’s recording — much less sorrowful than Vera Lynn’s full lyrics that include i.a. this bridge:

The dawn came stealing up

All gold and blue

To interrupt our rendez-vous

I still remember how you smiled and said

Was that a dream or was it true?

Which is a huge hint when it comes to what we can expect from the main romantic plot line in the Good Omens series. The original song introduces an element of the doubt — it seems like there was no nightingale at all, only the mirage woven by the singer clearly intoxicated with love, much like Aziraphale and Crowley for the length of the last six episodes. Crowley’s comment in the season finale might allude to that interpretation, stating that there are no nightingales — never have been. It was all a dream. But the version we’re working with here is short and sweet, and devoid of that doubt. In the Good Omens universe angels were actually dining at the Ritz, the streets were truly paved with stars (or will be shown as such in the next season), and a nightingale really sang in Berkeley Square, as the omniscient, omnipresent, and omnipotent narrator, God Herself, had shown us.

All in all, it’s not an accident that the “modern” swing ballad activating Aziraphale’s memory and opening the 1941 minisode is the Moonlight Serenade by Glenn Miller. It’s a track naturally associated with A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square when it comes to music style and the sentiment in the lyrics.

But why the sudden popularity? In the great uncertainty and hardship of the Blitz, A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square provided solace and escapism for listeners, offering a glimpse of hope and love amidst the darkness of war. It became a universal anthem of resilience and a reminder of the power of love transcending difficulties. By January 1941 the whole city knew this tune by heart, including a certain West End aficionado with a cabinet full of theatre programs in his bookshop. Thanks to Maggie’s grandmother, he most probably had a record at hand to play during his spontaneous wine night with Crowley. We can only suspect the details, but it was was mutually established as their song exactly at that time or soon afterwards. Pretty sure we will see a third installment of that minisode for many, many reasons, but especially because of this “several days in 1941” answer by Neil:

The Man Hunt

In 1941 A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square gained even more popularity as the romantic theme of the Fritz Lang’s newest film Man Hunt. The 1939 story by Geoffrey Household first appeared under the title “Rogue Male” as a serial in the Atlantic Monthly Magazine where it received widespread comment, soon becoming a world-wide phenomenon in novel form. Its premise criticizes Britain's pre-war policy of appeasement with Germany, ready to sacrifice its own innocent citizens to the tentative status quo. Sounds a bit like Heaven's politics, right?

Yes, I'm trying to make you watch old movies again — like all the other classics, Man Hunt (1941) is easily available on YouTube and other streaming websites.

The next part will include spoilers, so scroll down to the next picture if you prefer to avoid them.

The plot of the movie seems simple enough: the tall, dark, and handsome Alan Thorndike, who nearly assassinates Hitler, narrowly escapes Germany and back in London continues to evade the Nazi agents sent after him with the help of a young trench-clad “seamstress” named Jerry, bridging the class divide and becoming unlikely friends-partners-romantic interests. It doesn’t end well though.

Jerry's small London apartment serves as a hideout for Alan when he was being followed by Nazis, similarly to how Aziraphale's bookshop is a safe haven for both Crowley and Gabriel in S2. She helps the man navigate the streets and eventually out of London — by sacrificing herself and getting forcefully separated from him by a patrolling policeman. The last time they see each other, Alan watches Jerry look back at him yearningly and disappear in the fog, followed by the elderly officer.

Unfortunately in the next scene we learn that the latter is a Nazi collaborator and helps the agents apprehend Jerry in her own flat. Staying loyal to her love and uncooperative, she’s ultimately thrown out of a window to her death, but posthumously saves Alan once again — through the arrow-shaped hatpin he gifted her earlier that is presented to him as the evidence of her off-screen fate.

Long story short, thanks to Jerry’s sacrifice Alan not only survives, but is able to join the war that broke out in the meantime and go back to Germany, armed with a rifle and a final resolve to end what he started, no matter how long will it take. The justice will be served and the dictator will pay with his life for his sins.

I wouldn’t be myself without mentioning that the main villain has a Roman chariot statue similar to the one in Aziraphale’s bookshop, an antique sculpture of St Sebastian (well-known as the gayest Catholic Saint) foreshadowing his demise, and a chess set symbolizing the titular manhunt/game of tag with the protagonist.

Aziraphale’s song

Will Aziraphale sacrifice himself as well? Or has he already? If his coin magic trick can be any indicator, we should expect at least a shadow of a danger touching the angel’s wings soon.

Let’s sum up the 1941 events from Aziraphale’s perspective: the very first time they’ve interacted after almost a century, Crowley actively sabotaged his entire existence twice by stepping onto a holy ground and by being outed by agents of Hell, both on the very same night and both because of his undying dedication to the angel. That’s enough of a reason not only for performing an apology dance, but also maintaining a careful distance for Crowley’s sake for the next 26 years. Only when he heard that his idiot was planning to rob a church, he gave up since he “can't have him risking his life”.

That’s when Crowley, sitting in a car parked right under his bookshop, offered him a ride. It wasn’t even subtle anymore. It was supposed to be a date, this time both of them understood it. But Aziraphale wouldn’t risk Crowley’s safety for his own happiness, especially not when he can name his feelings towards him and knows that they are reciprocated — the biggest lesson he learnt back in 1941.

So he did what he’s best at, he cut Crowley off again, but this time with a promise of catching up to his speed at some point. Buddy Holly’s Everyday, which was originally planned to play afterwards instead of the Good Omens theme, adds additional context here:

No, thank you. Oh, don’t look so disappointed. Perhaps one day we could... I don't know… Go for a picnic. Dine at the Ritz.

Aziraphale, carefully looking around and feeling observed through the whole conversation in the Bentley, consciously used the “Dine at the Ritz” line from A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square, from their song, as a code only the two of them understand. Not as a suggestion to go out for a meal, but a promise. A hope for the privilege of being openly in love and together — maybe someday, not now, when it’s too dangerous — even if it leads to a bad ending.

Fast forward to 2023 when for one dreadful moment Crowley’s “No nightingales” robbed Aziraphale even of that semblance of hope. He looked away, unable to stop his tears anymore. Only their kiss helped him pull himself together and make sure that a nightingale did sing the last time he turned — just like in their song — this time without a smile, as a goodbye.

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bakerstreethound · 8 months

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Angel's Tea Under a Demon's Wing

Relationship: Aziraphale x reader x Crowley (Ineffable husbands x reader)

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, hurt, comfort, soft Aziraphale, grumpy Crowley, domestic partners, deluge of rain, job insecurity, financial stress, and a brief mention of loss & death

Summary: Time is running out for you to find a job so you can stay afloat in your small London flat. In one last desperate attempt, you swallow your pride and hand out your resume around town, praying for a miracle. As luck would have it, Aziraphale is intrigued by you and offers a proposition, despite Crowley's protests.

All writings belong to me @bakerstreethound (Do NOT claim, repost, copy or translate my works to other sites. I only publish here and on A03 under the same username)

Word Count: 2.0k+

A/N: Cheerio my lovelies! I come bearing a gift for you all. I hope you enjoy some more ineffable husbands and . I adore them so and we could all use some comfort after season 2. Special thanks also to @novaracer for beta reading. Comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated! Graphic by @firefly-graphics

Time had a cruel sense of humor, and it didn’t differ on any day like today, the skies trickling with rain, warning London of an impending storm. Yet, it didn’t tear you from your conquest in searching for a job.

You were sure to have found one by now, yet with the current economy, you weren’t sure how you were going to make it with the diner job you had, letting your other skills and talents be pushed aside. You couldn’t afford to do so much longer, for you ached to be out of your apartment finding purpose other than in the books you plowed through.

You adored your quiet life, but something inside you wanted more and knew you could strive for it.

That is how you found yourself with a stack of resumes in hand, sliding them into the mailboxes of local businesses, praying for a miracle you would get a response. Soon enough you dip into the coffee shop across the way from the last stop you made at a quaint bookstore that was oddly still in business.

You hadn’t mustered up the courage to peruse through the piles of books even though Maggie at the record shop insisted that her landlord and the owner of the bookshop, Mr. Fell, was sweet and meant no harm. Either way, you’d been too busy at the diner until now to consider applying for a job there. You hoped something would come around, but only a miracle could make it happen.

******

Meanwhile, Aziraphale began his morning as usual with some hot chocolate and making a record of miracles in the like when Crowley stomped in, huffing while clenching a wrinkled piece of paper.

“Awe come on, angel. Why are you doing this?” Crowley groaned.

Aziraphale swiped the wrinkled paper from Crowley’s grasp. “It’s only hospitable to offer the poor dear a job. I mean, look at their credentials!” he exclaimed as he excitedly flipped through another page as if he were reading a great myth instead of a resume.

“What’s the point? You practically have me to do all the work here for you,” Crowley mumbled, downing the rest of his wine. He stretched out on the couch again, his long lean legs draped over the arm, adding an extra bit of drama to any bit of furniture. The demon could not sit on anything properly to save his life.

Aziraphale sighed and bit his lip, eyes twinkling with mischief. “If you consider your work laying around here drinking, yes you do a fine job at that.” Crowley lifted his head, mock rage plastered over his face. “Better watch that tongue of yours angel, You know I love it so.”

“Well, then better make yourself useful and dust the books and tidy up your plants. We should expect a visitor within the hour.” Azi smiled warmly at his partner, giddiness filling his chest when Crowley pecked him on the cheek.

“I’ll get right on it, angel.”

******

You huffed, drowning down your third, or was it fifth? cup of coffee. You weren’t sure why you felt this way, the stress in your shoulders building the more you typed, your brain filling with words faster than you could write or type them down. You’d been at Nina’s shop for an hour, most of it spent scrolling through job listings, though your search also included browsing some bookstores and a new computer you have been eyeballing for months.

Alas not much had come from your ventures, but you have to admit it was a good day to get out of the flat and enjoy the fresh air and the coziness of somewhere else other than your pit of despair. You could only stay inside with yourself and your mind for so long.

Regardless, you enjoyed the quiet chatter, the drip of the machine keeping in time with your typing, and then a ping sounds from your phone. Your heart races, could this be it?

“Hello?” A soft angelic voice inquires from the other end. “I was calling about your interest in a job. You see I’m Aziraphale, Mr. Fell as most call me, I own the bookshop across from Nina’s coffee shop. The…Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death that one, it’s hard to miss. Would you be interested?”

Would I be interested? Hell yes, you would after months of finding nothing that’d pay anything for manual labor you wouldn’t imagine anything better than sorting books all day.

“Mr. Fell, that would be lovely. When do you want me to start?” You thrum your fingers on the table, not believing your luck.

“Are you available now? I have cocoa biscuits and tea!”

“I don’t think I’m in any position to refuse your offer, Mr. Fell.”

“Lovely, it’s settled then. I’ll see you within the hour, yes?” His voice is warm, reminding you of an old friend and holding hands with a friend by the lake. It made you happier than you’d been in a while and when you set your phone back on the table, glancing at the bright light streaming in through the window despite the darkening clouds of the horizon, you know you won’t refuse this job; it’s almost too good to be true.

******

“Oh boy, that doesn’t look good,” Crowley mutters, shoving piles of books into the shelves, trying to make the shop more presentable, as Azira put it. The sky outside darkened an alarming shade of gray and Crowley could practically hear the impending storm cackling in warning.

Aziraphale sighs, taking off his spectacles and rubbing his eyes. “Well, if worse comes to worst, we can stay in for the night and forgo the Ritz.”

“You? Forgo the meal at the Ritz? The world must truly be ending!” Crowley exclaims, throwing himself back on the couch right as the first clap of thunder came down, the notable pitter-patter of rainfall following in its wake.

Not a moment later, the doorbell rings, and there you are, a jacket plastered along your form, hair damp and you sneeze. “Hi, I’m here to see Mr. Fell.”

******

“Gracious come in come in, Oh do sit down, let me take that for you!” The smaller man, Aziraphale you note, bustles around, offering you an armchair, which you sit in, groaning at the warmth. The deluge came out of nowhere, soaking you to the bone during the albeit dort walk along the street, but you ended up getting distracted at Maggie’s record shop, losing track of time as fate would have it you ended up an utter wreck at the job you’d accepted a meer hour before.

“I’m so sorry for the state of my appearance, I should’ve brought an umbrella.”

“The weather is quite unpredictable is it not?” Another person appears from the shadows, encased in black, hair a lovely shade of red that makes you wish you could pull it off as well as them. They reach out their hand to you and you lean forward accepting it.

“Crowley, a pleasure to meet you. I see Aziraphale ran off before introductions.” He motions for you to stand and you do so, while he drapes his black jacket over you. It’s pleasantly warm, and you’re equally impressed with the black turtleneck and vest combination he’s currently sporting.

You smile at the gesture. “I’m sure it’s for the tea. There was mention of it on the phone call.”

“Oh, right, the infamous phone call. It practically made his day, though I insisted that he didn’t need to hire anyone, no don’t take it as a bad thing, necessarily. Nina and Maggie vouched for your character too so now you’re practically part of the block gang.”

“Crowley, are you interrogating our guest?”

You pull the borrowed jacket closer around you trying not to shiver in a combination of nerves and excitement. The easy banter between the two of them makes you feel at ease and it comforts you how relaxed they are in each other's presence. If all your days could be spent with a gentle, quiet and constant companion by your side, then you couldn’t possibly want for more.

“I am sorry for inconveniencing you.” you blurt out, Mr. Fell’s gaze meeting yours in quiet understanding.

“It’s no trouble at all, we’ve not much going on, isn’t that right, Crowley.”

“Right, whatever he said, that’s right.” the tall lanky figure grumbles, discarding a pile of books on the floor, making you wince at the thump they leave behind.

That must’ve hurt, you grumble.

“They’ll be alright” Crowley grumbles.

Whoops, you had spoken that out loud. You clench your jaw, trying in vain to relax, the nerves flowing through you, making your stomach tie itself in knots despite your mind’s protests.

“Crowley, I would appreciate it if you didn’t throw my books in that manner,” Mr Fell’s brow quirks, eyes lighting in quiet mirth as he leans over to whisper, “He does that when he’s grouchy.”

“I assume it happens frequently, then.”

“Usually when I irk him or someone else, which is at least three times a week or more.”

Crowley scowls, “It’s not that frequent!”

You smile at the easy banter between them, the way they brought you into this small sphere of their world and it makes you feel less alone than you have had in months. You enjoyed this, the glances they tossed back and forth with the ease of old lovers, twin soulmates of the universe ancient in their own right.

“Well then, I think it’s settled,” Aziraphale faces you, hands clasped, a smile gracing his lips. You burrow further into the jacket Crowley lent you from the deluge, nervous for the outcome. In the next moment, Aziraphale hands you cocoa, finalizing the matter, “I think we’ll get along just fine, my dear.”

******

Countless hours later you’re sandwiched between them on a plush couch, Aziraphale (he insisted you didn’t have to call him Mr. Fell) with a book on his lap and Crowley with a drink in his hand. You’re halfway listening to the story Aziraphale tells, still delirious and in disbelief that you scored a job and somehow gained two companions you’ve felt you have known ages. The hours passed by quicker than you imagined and you didn’t want to leave.

Months without a job and companionship have you linger in the doorway and you smile at them fondly, hating to leave but you walk back into the rain in your borrowed coat that fits your form.

You hadn’t remembered it fitting so well before, the universe worked in mysterious ways. But, you found a thread of hope, warmth, love and acceptance and you sure as hell aren’t letting go of it for anything.

Joy fills your heart as you walk out the bookshop door Crowley holds for you and Aziraphale presses a kiss to your hand, wishing you well. You don’t think you’ve been more excited for a job-or anything than you have now. No more moments you would take for granted now that you had them, a life complete and full of laughter and love.

******

Time was cruel and a fickle thing. Two figures stand on a hill under a tree, leaning into each other, what others wouldn’t see is the phantom hand resting between their palms, one of a lover past, a companion dear to them slipping into another world.

Time could be cruel, but it had given an angel and a demon a mortal companion to care for alongside each other and blessing or cursing time, one thing is for certain, they were grateful for all the moments, no matter how limited, that they got to spend with you. And they had a silly little resume and a fateful deluge of rain to thank for it.

The taller one carefully drapes a long coat around the headstone, the shorter one following suit with a bouquet of flowers. In their arms they find solace, the ghost of you a mere fragment of their millennia of existence but they would live it over and again if only to be with you.

******

#ineffable husbands x reader #crowley x reader #aziraphale x reader #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #good omens imagine #good omens s2 #gos2 #crowley x reader x aziraphale

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neil-gaiman · 3 months

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Hello Mr. Gaiman!

I've asked this question before but have a much better way in explaining what I mean. In season two, episode one of Good Omens we get a glimpse of Crowley's time as an angel. In this scene we see that Crowley created portions of the stars & nebulas before he had become fallen. We also get told this in season one, episode four when Crowley is looking through his book of Astronomy. He says "I helped build that one" when looking at one of the nebulas.

In season one, episode one we are shown that Crowley is the snake that tempted Eve in the Garden of Eden and thus has snake eyes even in his human form. When Crowley fell, was giving him snake eyes a punishment? Was it meant so he couldn't see stars (the things he helped create)?

I say this because supposedly, snakes can't see the stars because they have very poor vision. They also typically can only see shapes and not so much details. We obviously know that Crowley can see details and what not, however, can Crowley see stars? Or is Crowley not being able to see stars merely fan based? Was it intentional to have Crowley create portions of stars and nebulas and then become a snake when he had fallen, with the intent that snakes can't see stars?This is something I've been very curious to know since hearing about snakes not being able to see stars.

I hope you're having a wonderful day! Thank you!

That's certainly a fun headcanon.

Crowley is a demon, though, not a snake.

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denaliwrites · 6 months

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His Love is All in Me

Aziraphale x GN!Reader x Crowley

Summary: It's not every day you compete with a demon for the affections of an angel.

Soundtrack: The Boy is Mine by Brandy & Monica

Requests: Open!

Warnings: Jealousy. Unrequited Love. Choking. Crowley is a Dick.

Upon further reflection, maybe Crowley had been right to call you an interloper. Sure, you hadn't meant to intrude on the good thing he had with his angel that fateful, rainy evening in December when you'd first wandered into Aziraphale's shop. You also hadn't meant to steal the angel's attention. Hadn't meant to keep going back day after day. Hadn't meant to get attached.

But now here you were, deeply seated not just in a plush armchair in the angel's bookshop several months later, but also in the angel's life.

Which meant, for better or for worse, you were deeply seated in Crowley's life as well.

And he hated you.

He made it impossibly clear any time the two of you were alone, and though he pumped the brakes a little when Aziraphale was around, he didn't do much to hide it then either. You tried not to let it show, both for Aziraphale's peace of mind and so that Crowley wouldn't get the satisfaction of knowing he'd upset you... but it did weigh on you.

But no matter how much weight you can hold, eventually there's a point where it's too much and some (or all) of it goes tipping over.

Aziraphale was leaving for the weekend.

He said something about having to travel to the States to get a book he'd been after for years, darling. You were on board until he put you in charge of the shop. That would be... stressful. But manageable. And then Crowley walked in, and Aziraphale lit up, and told him that he was in charge too.

The glare Crowley sent you the moment the angel turned away made you want to wither and die.

Before he left, Aziraphale handed you a tray of freshly baked treats -- ones he knew you loved, your most favorite treats that you'd probably kill for.

"To remember me by," he said before leaving.

Once alone in the shop with Crowley, you threw him a wary glance. You wanted to say something -- anything -- but nothing came to mind. Nervously, you set the tray down on the table beside your usual chair before dipping behind the counter to grab the book you'd been reading.

You heard a snap, and when you looked back over, the tray of treats was on fire.

"Crowley!" you yelped, barely managing to set the book down before frantically looking for a fire extinguisher. There wasn't one -- somewhere in the logical part of your brain, you figured it was because the angel could just miracle a fire away. But that didn't help you, a mortal, right now.

"C-Crowley," you whimpered as you finally came to a halt, simply staring at the fire in defeat.

You looked up at the sound of another snap. You could see out of your peripheral that the fire was gone, but your main focus was on Crowley's infuriatingly smug expression.

It pained you to look away, but you forcefully pulled your expression off of him to look at the tray -- the fire had burned every single treat into inedible embers.

As you looked, some sound that vaguely resembled a laugh came out of Crowley, and you whipped around to glare at him.

"What is your FUCKING problem?!" you growled, storming up to him.

He easily could've overpowered you, killed you, done literally anything, but he let you slam him up into the nearest wall, let you press your arm to his throat. Not that he needed to breathe, but it was satisfying all the same.

"Ever since that first day you have had it out for me! I've been nothing but nice, and helpful, and accommodating to your stupid mood swings! What the fuck else can you possibly want from me, you fucking asshole!?"

"I want you gone," he replied simply.

Oh. On further reflection, you should've seen that coming.

"The angel doesn't love you. He can't. You're but a fleeting little infatuation -- a pet. The moment you start withering, start showing your cursed humanity, he'll lose interest."

"Why do you even care?" you asked exasperatedly. "You've had six thousand years with him and you'll have six thousand more, infinite times over. Why do you care if he's distracted for a few years out of eternity?"

"Because he's mine!" Crowley hissed. "He's my friend. My Angel."

"This whole fucking time," you said with a sigh. "This whole time I thought you hated me for a real reason -- but you were just jealous? This whole time, you only hated me because you can't stand the idea of Aziraphale liking anyone else."

Suddenly, the tables were flipped and you were the one pressed to the wall. Unlike Crowley, though, you did need air to breathe, and his hand was nearly crushing your throat.

"C-Crowley--" you wheezed desperately, but his hold didn't let up.

"Listen to me, you insolent little speck of insignificant cosmic shit," Crowley hissed above you, "I don't care about the angel's pointless dalliances with mortals. We blink and you're dead and it's like no time has passed at all."

You were getting lightheaded, delirious.

"What I care about is you humans stupidly worming your way into his heart, only for you to inevitably die and break it."

Just as suddenly as it was there, the pressure on your windpipe was gone, and your body collapsed and instinctively dragged in desperate gasping breaths.

Crowley watched you disdainfully as you sucked in breath after breath, until eventually you evened out.

"Th..." you tried to speak, but every few breaths one still came out as a gasp.

Crowley knelt before you, looking you over. His hand neared your face and you jerked away, yet he persisted. You were surprised when the touch that landed on your chin was gentle. Limply, you let him tilt your chin up, giving him a view of your neck. A couple soft clicks of his tongue and a snap later, and your throat and lungs no longer burned.

"Wh-what did you--"

"I don't want you dead," he said with a sigh. "In fact, I'd much prefer you live a good, long life. Just... somewhere away from Aziraphale. And me."

You blinked up at him, before you let out a pained, wheezing laugh. "Y-you want me to live a 'good, long life'? You hate me!"

"You humans," he groused, looking around like some form of help might magically appear before him. "You're so -- smallminded. You don't get it."

"Get what?" you asked, voice suddenly weak. He looked genuinely worried, and that surprised you.

"You think that love and hate are mutually exclusive. Even when you love and hate something! Like -- like you. You love and hate romance novels. I've seen it! You love and hate them, and yet you cannot fathom the idea that I could love and hate humanity -- love and hate you."

"Sorry," you wheezed, "you love me?"

"Well -- hgk."

You laughed at the sound he made in the back of his throat, and yet again he surprised you. His lips actually pulled up, just a little, in response.

"Yeah, I do. In the way I love every other human," he said after a moment. "But I love you because Aziraphale does, too."

"Yet you want me gone?"

"Because I hate seeing his heart get broken."

"Some things are worth getting your heart broken for, Crowley."

His stunned blinks told you he'd never considered that.

"I know I'm not going to live forever. I know you two will outlive me by eternity. I'll spend the rest of my life with you, and for you, it'll be a second on the cosmic clock. Less, probably."

His eyes met yours, thoughtful, sad, considering.

"Don't you think it breaks my heart too, knowing I'll only get so much time with you before I'm gone? That I'll have to leave him behind, and he'll have to deal with that pain?"

"Then why stay?"

"Because I love him, and people do stupid things for love. Sometimes they do selfish things for it, too. And sometimes, the people involved are perfectly capable of making their own decisions and have considered the outcome and think that the pain they'll experience is worth it."

He looks away in shame, then.

"Aziraphale's not an idiot," you say, reaching out a hand to tilt Crowley's face towards you. "If he didn't want to feel that loss, he wouldn't keep getting attached to humans. But he sees something in us worth going through that pain for. Maybe instead of treating him like an infant who can't understand the consequences of his decisions, you should respect that -- like it or not -- he has his own reasons for doing things and he's more than capable of choosing to do them."

"I can see why he likes you, now," Crowley said softly, and you blinked. "You... hgk. He's fallen for many humans, but you may be the best of them."

Coming from him, that surprised you, but it also warmed your heart. "Oh, he does love me back?" you asked with a laugh.

"Oh, yes," Crowley sighed dramatically. "Didn't understand why before but... now I do."

"And what about us?" you asked.

The sound that came out of that demon's mouth was -- well, it was something. Something that made you cackle.

"Us?" he finally managed, baffled.

"Yeah. Like. Are we okay? Are we cool? No more hating and trying to chase me off and stuff? Can we be civil?"

"Oh," he said, but you saw the moment the realization actually sank in. "Oh! Yes, yeah, we're fine. You're... you're good."

This made you smile. Without warning, you grabbed the demon and pulled him into a hug. "Maybe we can even be friends," you said, delighting in the way his body stiffened against yours.

"Oh, no, no -- I don't -- I don't do that -- that's the angel's thing --"

Despite Crowley's best attempts at insisting that he didn't befriend Aziraphale's "pets" and that he'd much rather stay as far from you as possible, when Aziraphale returned home at the end of the weekend he found the two of you in one of the armchairs -- Crowley's favorite, in fact. You were asleep with a book hanging limply and precariously from your hand. Crowley was... well, it was hard to tell, with his glasses on, but he had his body sprawled across yours, one leg thrown over the back of the chair and one laid over your lap in what Aziraphale would dare say was a protective gesture. He smiled, miracling a blanket over the two of you before he went about settling back into his home routine.

#crowley x reader #aziraphale x reader #crowley x you #aziraphale x you #good omens x reader #good omens fic #good omens fan fiction #david tennant #michael sheen

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prince-kallisto · 7 months

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TWST’s Magic Mirror

Wait a minute. I was lowkey having a mental breakdown (cater vibes) until I realized something about the Dark Mirror- or specifically what Crowley said about magestones that may change what we know about the Dark Mirror.

The magestone is the figurative heart of ANY magical artifact…Crowley says this in the prologue as response to the broken chandelier. Hm? ANY magical artifact? Including the Dark Mirror?

And suddenly, it clicked.

See, I’ve had these photos saved for a while, because I knew something was wrong with the Magic Mirror and Dark Mirror. They didn’t look alike, despite having similar powers and appearance. And for now, I’m still assuming that the Dark Mirror IS the Magic Mirror, just a little twisted. After all, I feel like if it was a replica, it would’ve been mentioned at least once.

About a month ago, I took the time to read through all the chats, and what Rook and Vil claim about the Magic Mirror confused me even more

Hm?? They mention in the chats AND in Book 5 TWICE about “IF the Magic mirror still existed.” The mirror is clearly respected, and Pomefiore knows a lot of lore about the Evil Queen, like her apple trees, the well, the robes.

And yet could they not realize that the Magic Mirror is literally the Dark Mirror…unless it’s been tampered with that no one recognizes it as THE original?

See, what clicked to me is the missing red gems from the Dark Mirror. I knew these were missing, but I never realized what this meant until today. Those gems must have been the Dark Mirror’s MAGESTONES, Aka it’s figurative heart. Look at the Dark Mirror and at the sides where the gemstones would be: there’s clearly an empty socket/space. As if…someone stolen the mirrors “heart”. It’s why the frame of the Dark Mirror looks so faded- the magic was seeped away from the entire artifact.

And since magical artifacts have magestones, could let “Overblot” too? The idea of an object Overblotting sounds silly, but the Dark Mirror isn’t just any artifact. The Magic mirror from Snow White canon has a spirit inside (or multiple if you like my “Meleanor is trapped in the mirror” theories haha). And from a 1950s brochure on Snow White, it specified that the spirit used to be the Evil Queen’s familiar demon.

So if it has a soul, it can Overblot too, yes?

And as we know from the Spectral Soirée, the Dark Mirror specifically can be manipulated to do some incredibly powerful magic- even host another world inside. Perhaps someone (cough Crowley) forced the magic mirror to do something impossibly powerful? Like permanently another soul (Meleanor)? Or perhaps create a “mirror” world inside it, like Twisted Wonderland?? Or does the Magic Mirror’s gems have a hidden power to them?

Speculation aside, I found even more odd was in an interview with the TWST voice actors, they all showed up in person- except for Malleus’ VA who “wasn’t invited.” And interestingly enough, they used the MAGIC Mirror for Malleus to speak though. See how it’s golden and it has those three red gems? Why would TWST bother with remaking the Hall of Mirrors background just for an interview?

But then I had ANOTHER realization. In the first Anniversary TWST animation, it opened up with Grim walking through a mysterious hallway, which I’ve talked about before. That theory is a bit wishywashy haha, but the point is, the camera focuses on a frame of…the MAGIC mirror. Although it’s barely visible, you can see the golden details and the red gem at the bottom.

The TWST creators didn’t have to remake the Hall of Mirrors background for the voice actor interview at all. They already have this image prepared in their files- with a clear distinction between the Magic Mirror and the Dark Mirror.

…This was a huge rabbit hole haha ∑(ﾟДﾟ) But there’s something to unlock from this case, I just know it!!!

#lowkey about to hack into Disney to find out the lore #jk don’t sue me #twisted wonderland #twst #twst theory #twst dark mirror #twst Magic mirror #twst Crowley #twst dire Crowley #dire Crowley #twst grim #KallistoPost

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raz-writes-the-thing · 7 months

Text

Crotch-Punching Distance

Aziraphale x Crowley x GN!Reader

Summary: Jim, short for James, James short for Gabriel- or was it James, long for Jim and short for Gabriel? Is really getting on your nerves

CW/AN: this is just a bit of a crack fic request

Requests are OPEN

Gomens tag list: @coffee-and-red-lipstick

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

You are really fucking tired of Jim, Armageddon, Heaven, Hell and everything in between. Well, except for Zira and Crowley, of course. But you were tired of the sheer metric tonnage of bullshit that seems to follow them no matter where they go, what they do, or who they talk too.

Hell, even those they don’t talk to. For God's sake, Gabriel, or Jim, or James had just shown up at the bookshop doors one day unannounced. It was enough to drive a person to pack up and move half a continent away (or half a Universe away, if Crowley’s plan was to be taken into serious consideration) just to get some peace and quiet.

Anyway, it was safe to say that Jim was annoying the shit out of you today. Every day, yes, but today specifically. It may have been a good question to ask as to when Jim did not annoy the shit out of you. The answer to that question was ‘not very often.’ Wow, you think to yourself. It’s a good thing Aziraphale can’t read your mind. He’d be absolutely mortified at the amount of poor language and blasphemy filling up your mind this morning.

Speaking of your Angel… He and Crowley were doing their utmost to ignore Jim, short for James, James short for Gabriel. Or was it James, long for Jim and short for Gabriel? Whatever. Your two loves had left Jim/James/Gabriel to your mercy and were not entirely certain whether that was a good idea or not yet. Only time would tell.

Currently, Jim was standing before you and continuing on with his ridiculous project of arranging the books by alphabetical order of the first sentence of the first chapter. It was driving you mad, but Aziraphale had just told you to leave him be. He’d fix it up later.

“You know,” Jim says, stopping his work to turn to face you. He was looking at you with a glint in his eye that meant he had something that he thought just absolutely had to be said. “You are the smallest person I’ve ever seen!”

You blink once, twice, and then pinch the bridge of your nose with a sigh.

“No, really-” he says enthusiastically. “Like… hmm, what are those things? Oh! Yes, like children! But bigger.”

You glare up at him. It was true you were on the rather small side, but that didn’t mean it needed to be pointed out like that.

"You know, Jim,” you reply, giving him a very tight smile. “You’re talking mad shit for someone in crotch-punching distance."

Jim cocks his head and blinks in confusion. “Crotch-punching distance? What’s that?”

Your smile grows tighter, if that’s possible and your fingers twitch, itching to just punch him.

“Would you like to find out, Gabe?”

Jim splits into a wide grin, echoing your question with an enthusiastic “oh, boy!”

You wouldn’t actually punch him. It’s not his fault he doesn’t remember what an arse he is. But it doesn’t stop you from fantasising about it either.

“Alright, love?” You hear a suave voice from over your shoulder. You sigh, and nod.

“Peachy, Crowley, but I’m tapping out. Your turn for Jimsitting.” You give Crowley a peck on the cheek and escape before he has the chance to protest. You can hear his spluttering from the other side of the shop.

“I’m going to make some tea, Zira, love. Would you like some?”

Aziraphale looks up from over his glasses and smiles warmly, the thought of tea appealing indeed.

“Oh, that would be wonderful, dear. Thank you.” He goes back to his papers, trying to decipher something terribly interesting, you imagine. You give Aziraphale a peck on the cheek too for good measure on your way past.

That Jim, though. He better watch it, because you did not take bullshit lying down, that was for sure.

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kingconia · 9 months

Note

#4, #9 and #28 with Rook Hunt! He seems like a possessive lover

4. “You know I'd do anything to have you stay by my side, right? Anything.“

9. “Damn it all to hell, if I don't get to have you tonight then I'm never going to be able to have you.”

28. ”Come and get your fix.”

cw: slightly spicy? mentions of possessiveness and slight obsession (from both sides, lmao)

•

In the world of kings, princes and magical creatures, you were no one.

It was something you accepted rather quickly; this world was never yours to begin with, and no particular sadness was met by this early realisation. The role of temporary guest came easily to you, the understating of the fact that you will leave this place as soon as Crowley will come up with something, always lingered at the back of your mind.

And so, attaching to someone was prohibited. From your perspective it would be easier this way, to be able leave it, without loving someone.

You were nice to everyone to the point all of them meant nothing to you. You treated them like characters, whose stories you witnessed accidentally. Different books with curious main characters. And nothing more.

Well. Until Rook Hunt.

This story started rather ridiculously. While you hunt down backstories of others, he hunted down you. He thought of you—and that was flattering—as a unique beast to this little collection, a new target. It was the fact that you had nothing in this world that made you so special in his eyes. An attractive little thing, he said.

Despite everything—or rather, exactly because of it—you preferred to ignore him. You rolled his eyes as you felt his ghostly presence in the rooms, and your lips thinned when he talked to you, spluttering little complements here and there. Eventually, though, you got used to it.

To all of him.

In one of many days like this, you suggested him to stop hiding in the bushes or climbing on the rooftops. Instead, you allowed him to follow you.

And the game began.

What started as a strange experience ended up being the most meaningful thing that you made. He was following you, and from now, you followed him as well. And what others called a strange alliance between two of you, grew into something more.

Apparently, Rook was kissing as skillfully as he shot animals down. And, oh, you were nothing in your soul if not starved.

Rook tasted as a pure madness; a tip of his sharp, arrow-like tongue filled your mouth with bittersweetness, dragging your further in the tunnel of insanity, along with him. His every single touch, each praise, tied you even more to him, making utterly desperate.

Rook Hunt tamed you. And you were happily giving up.

”Oh, mon précieux,” he murmured, pressing his chest to yours, as he caught in the corridors of the school, shamelessly, ”it is a little late for running away from me, don't you think?”

It was. Yet, you gave it a try.

The impact of his man dawned on you suddenly as you realised how far you were from your own rules. Your own decision not to be attached to anyone was long forgotten. Now, you know, leaving this world will hurt.

”You know I'd do anything to have you stay by my side, right?” His soft lips pressed to the line of your chin, in something between a kiss and mere touch. ”Anything.”

You closed your eyes, collecting yourself. It was time to stop this game.

”Rook, cut your nonsense,” your breath came out as a roar, when his fingertips traced down your neck, stopping on the tight-buttoned collar. ”I will leave this place eventually. Stop hurting both of us.”

”Maybe I should just break our favourite mirror,” he purred, as if ignoring what you said completely. ”That will leave you without a choice, hm-m.”

”Rook,” you hissed.

His voice was sweeter than honey, and the words that left his lips were so nicely poisonous that you desired nothing but to drink it right from his mouth.

What a graceful nightmare he was.

”Be honest with me, ma prière, do you truly believe that you will ever leave this place?” He stopped his distracting actions, eyes now fully on you. ”Or is that your own way to apologise before people you left in another world?”

You hardly had anyone back there, and you never felt belonged to anywhere. Could it be the reason why you were sent here? Could it be the argument to allow Crowley to stay? Could it be—

”You are thinking too much, mon amour,” the tip of your noses met. ”Will you have me or no?”

Oh, how dared he to ask, when he knows it already?

”Damn it all to hell,” you laughed bitterly, fingers digging in his lean shoulders, bringing him as close as it was only possible. ”If I don't get to have you tonight then I'm never going to be able to have you.”

Your breath mingled together, and the sharp corners of his lips curled in a disturbingly beautiful smile, when his hands squeezed your hips possessively.

”Here you are, ma bête. Come and get your fix.”

Before you know, your lips were already brought together as you clinged to each other desperately, teeth meeting with a clicking sound, and tongues intertwining in breathless gasps.

Rook might tamed you. But he didn't win. Because it was your name that was engraved on his heart, just as he branded his own in your chest.

And there was no turning back now.

•

A/N: Rook calls reader ”my precious”, ”my pray”, ”my love” and ”my beast” on french in this order.

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #rook hunt #rook hunt x reader #twst rook #rook x reader

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