fallen-omens

[fallen-omens]

.

Rambling about Good Omens with @alwaysademonneveragod (as one does) and for the sake of making each other miserable with more angst than is needed, she said: Imagine how Crowley felt seeing how easily Gabriel gave up Heaven in order to be with Beelzebub. And, yes, hello pain, old friend.

But also, there's something about this that just needs to be said, and that's that, in Aziraphale's defense, the stakes for Gabriel are so much lower than they are for Aziraphale, and this is something I think Crowley might accept and recognize once some of the pain left from Aziraphale leaving cools down a little and gives him some room to see the whole picture.

At the end of the day, Gabriel is still a character that doesn't care about much beyond himself, just as we saw in S1. We do see him more empathetic and selfless in his Jim version, but at the very core Gabriel is still rather selfish, caring mostly about himself and now, of course, about Beelzebub as well because he is in love with them. I'm not saying choosing to leave Heaven and his position as Archangel just to be with his demon partner was any less noble and romantic and high risk, but at the same time it was still easy since Gabriel doesn't personally care about much else. For them to leave to Alpha Century and never come back makes sense.

Aziraphale, however, is in a much more complex situation with much higher stakes. Making the same decision as Gabriel would make no sense with his character.

Aziraphale cares about Crowley, LOVES Crowley, but he also loves the world and, right now, he's put in a position where he has to pick one and risk the other (something he didn't want to do, and for that he asked Crowley to go with him). Aziraphale loves having his little restaurants, loves his first edition books, his records of classical music, his store of magic tricks. He loves how imperfect and messy humanity is, because all of it is part of the precious, peaceful and fragile existence he's carved for himself AND for Crowley. Aziraphale loves the world as something that's his but also as something that's theirs. That's where their love story happened, the common ground they could share together, making company for each other each time the lines of good and evil became too confusing to follow. They can't share Heaven (white) and they can't share Hell (black) but they can share the world and its immense amounts of grays.

It makes me think how Aziraphale's love for Crowley and his love for the world has fuzzy edges that bleed into each other until it's a messy whole that can't be torn apart. A whole he wants so fiercely to protect, for himself but also for both of them, him and Crowley. And, right now (manipulations being considered), he knows he has a chance of doing just that from Heaven while keeping Crowley by his side according to the Metatron's offer.

The issue is that, of course, they don't TALK and when they do they say half of the things they need to say, and it's always disguised in this carefully put together veil of pretence, never daring to cross the line of pretending there's nothing more between them than there should be. Either way, they don't TALK and if they do, they don't say enough, so now Crowley is left thinking that Aziraphale, after everything, still chose Heaven over him, but NO.

Aziraphale is choosing the world ("To the world.") He's choosing to protect this beautiful thing he found from the greedy hands of those who don't understand a thing about it and only seek it to see it destroyed in order to fulfil their own needs and wishes.

He's choosing to protect the world from yet another apocalypse, and when he chooses the world he is choosing Crowley too, because for Aziraphale one can't go without the other. Does he do it from his still present blind faith in Heaven and its goodness? Yes, and that's because his arc as a character is not done yet. But the purpose is not, in my opinion, to be back in Heave's good books. The purpose is to fight for what he loves, and that's the world and Crowley.

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

[fallen-omens]

Bitchy but in an angelic way.

[fallen-omens]

Aziraphale protecting Crowley from water and Crowley protecting Aziraphale from fire.

[fallen-omens]

Not even the two bottles of wine he'd downed in the past hour were enough to deal with the type of look that that human, Maggy, was giving him.

Crowley drowned a groan or maybe a curse in another sip. When the bottle came to rest back on his knee, after the heat and dizziness flushed down his throat and settled on his skin, Maggy's eyes were still on him, sad and desperate and like they were about to burst from their sockets.

Crowley thought that was a bit much, wasn't it? A look like that could be justified by not many things in life, like the end of times being a day away (maybe) and well, drunk or not, Crowley was mildly sure he'd taken care of that mess already.

Maggy's hands clenched on her lap, wrinkling their skirt, almost as if she was anchoring her fingers on the fabric to keep herself from reaching out and doing something crazy, something dangerous, like touching Crowley. The demon was glad she didn't, as well as a little annoyed.

As far as humans went, this Maggy and the other one, Nina, were fine—obnoxious and a bit pathetic like the rest of them, but still fine. However, while not being on Crowley's bad side (which absolutely didn't mean they were on his good side, no. Crowley's good side, foolishly enough, was reserved for one angel and one angel only), if any of them, Maggy or Nina, were to touch him right now he wouldn't second guess lighting their fingertips on fire (not to burn them, just to scare them). It would be a horrible thing to do, maybe, but for demons like Crowley, most horrible things were also fun things and didn't Crowley now more than ever need something fun to put his mind elsewhere?

"I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Crowley," said Maggy, still intact and very much not on fire. Her tone had that same edge that her eyes had. Crowley was quick to recognize it as pity. "It was me who insisted on you talking to Mr. Fell about—"

"Don't," growled Crowley, lifting the hand that still held tightly onto the bottle and pointing at the human, his teeth bared and brows twisted in a frown. The look would be finished with his serpent-like eyes flashing, but they were hidden behind his sunglasses as always. Wearing them here, in the bookshop, felt wrong. He still did. "Don't say his name,” he hissed. “Don't talk about him to me."

Maggy's eyes went wide and at her back Nina stepped closer, frown in place. She seemed to always have one of those tucked between her brows and just for that Crowley disliked her a little less.

Crowley looked at her with bored eyes. What was she going to do? Pray Crowley away? He snorted and took another swing. The wine was bitter in his tongue.

He sighed and looked away, through the window of the bookshop at the familiar street where, as always, his Bentley was parked. "And don't be an idiot," he mumbled. "You are just a human, so how could any of this be your fault? It's no one's fault, really." Crowley popped his lips and turned back to the humans. "It's just... my nature. I'm a demon. This is what we demons do."

Maggy tilted her head. "What demons do?" She echoed.

Crowley sagged on his chair and nodded, eyes casted back to the window. "It's our punishment. We fall harder than anyone else, and then we burn."

He took yet another swing and said no more.

[fallen-omens]

The way Aziraphale hesitates before giving into the temptation that is holding Crowley during their kiss.

It's only a second in which Aziraphale finally gives up control, a moment of weakness or maybe courage in which he allows himself to do as he pleases, as he so badly wants to do, and not as God or Heaven has planned for him to do. One instant when not even the Great Ineffable Plan matters more than this.

But then the moment is gone, the bruising and violent kiss is over, and Aziraphale had hoped that single short taste would be enough to put out the fire that licks his insides whenever Crowley is close. But it wasn't. The fire is still there, stronger than ever, the taste of the apple too sweet to let go of, and isn't this what Crowley has always done to him? Always tempting him, always pushing the limits and rules imposed by Heaven in the hopes that Aziraphale will dare to step outside and fall off the edge with him.

He can't let it happen again.

Maybe if Aziraphale belonged to himself and only himself, then yes, maybe he and Crowley could be just them, could be together, on their own side; but part of Aziraphale, the bigger part, still belongs to Heaven and to the many things he can do to fix it. His role in the Great Plan is set on stone, and no kiss and no feelings can erase it.

Aziraphale knows, he knows, he can go up there and make a difference. Make things right again. And if only Crowley would come with him-

But that won't happen and so... Aziraphale will just have to stop being tempted by the same apple, before it rots in his mouth and chokes him.

And so, through tears and with the flames alive inside of him, Aziraphale says the only thing he can think of. He says, "I forgive you."

For tempting me. For making me want things I can't have. For making this harder. For not giving up your anger and pride to come with me. For making me want to save the world as many times as it takes just to give it to you, even if we can't be just us in this war.

The flames are still there and they hurt a bit more when Crowley steps out of the bookshop and doesn't look back.

Aziraphale has never fallen, clearly. His wings have always been an immaculate white. But he's heard the stories. He's heard about those who did fall, about their wings being burned until each feather turned black, of the pain they were put through as punishment for their betrayal and sins.

Now, as he stands there, Aziraphale weakly wonders if this fire he's feeling in his gut and heart is anything like that. If the pain of falling from the skies comes any close to the pain of falling for Crowley.

[fallen-omens]

head empty, just thinking about crowley's micro-expression when he sees aziraphale sitting across from him after thinking him dead.

[fallen-omens]

hello~

i didn't like the social limitations of a side account so i'll be moving my good omens blog to: @somegooodomens and i'll repost all my posts there!!

[fallen-omens]

How it starts vs. how it ends (inspired by this post by @yamisnuffles)

[fallen-omens]

A huge fan of how after being run over by Crowley’s Bentley, Anathema went from:

“These two must be dangerous, driving and lurking in the night, no lights, just the two of them. Gotta let them know I keep a knife at hand”

…to:

“Ah, never mind. They are just gay, I’m safe”

…just because Crowley called Aziraphale angel LMAO

#ineffable husbands #good omens #aziraphale #good omens anathema #crowley

[fallen-omens]

Good Omens S1E1 | S2E6

#babies babies babies #love them #crowley falling for his little rebellious boyfriend #ineffable husbands #good omens #gif

[fallen-omens]

head empty, just thinking about crowley's micro-expression when he sees aziraphale sitting across from him after thinking him dead.

#also this is the first gif i ever make woop woop #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens #aziraphale #crowley #my gifs #good omens 2

[fallen-omens]

📁my folders ↳ 📁private folder ㅤ↳ 📁porn ㅤㅤ↳ 📁hardcore porn ㅤㅤㅤ↳ 📁really weird porn ㅤㅤㅤㅤ↳ 📁aziraphale taking off crowley's glasses, cupping his face with his hands, whispering 'i love you' and giving him the softest of kisses

#i’m in this post and i didn’t authorised it

[fallen-omens]

i’m so normal about sunshine/sunshine protector ships. some might say i’m the most normal about them.

#so :) normal :) about :) them :)

[fallen-omens]

and now, so alone on earth, the demon crowley does something anathema to his kind. something inconceivably profane to those cast down from heaven, something that repulses and humiliates him as he does it (but he must). something he hasn't done in 6000 years - he prays to god. to give him his Angel back.

#STOP #NOOOOOO #IM ABSOLUTELY DESTROYED ON THE FLOOR WEEPING

[fallen-omens]

can you imagine if jesus is in season three, though.

aziraphale is placed in charge of the broody teenager, and at first, he's in way over his head. her name is abijah (and she hates it. she hates it so much. "my father is Yahweh," the meaning of it, makes her want to scream), but she goes by abby instead. she's sullen, and sarcastic, and outright mean, because it isn't like heaven actually cares about her. they only care about what she can do for them. how she can die for them.

but then. aziraphale?

he's nothing like the other archangels abby's met. he's kind of a bumbling idiot sometimes, to be completely honest. her sarcasm goes straight over his head, he smiles whenever she says something especially cutting, and he completely disarms her.

"i'm mean to you. to everyone. why don't you just give up? everyone else has."

"you rather remind me of someone i used to know, my dear. i never gave up on them, and i won't give up on you, either."

abby doesn't know what to do.

she doesn't trust it; surely, there's a catch to his kindness. surely, he just wants something from her, just like every other bloody angel in this godforsaken place. but time goes on, and abby watches.

she watches how aziraphale interacts with the lowest ranking angels, like they deserve his respect. she watches him argue with michael and uriel and saraquael and even metatron, tell them in no uncertain terms that he's going to do right by earth and heaven. she even spies a suggestion box on his desk.

abby watches, and she begins to trust.

it's dangerous; this could easily blow up in her face. aziraphale could be biding his time, waiting for her guard to be lowered, just so he can strike. but as she sees him staring forlornly at the constellations of alpha centuri, she realizes rather suddenly that he's lonely. he's hurting.

"who was it?"

"who was who?"

"the person i remind you of. who?"

"...it hardly matters anymore, darling. let's–let's talk about something else."

abby decides right there that she'll smite whoever put that expression on aziraphale's face.

the earth continues to spin. heaven continues to poke and prod her. her Mother continues to be silent.

abby never had parents. not really. contrary to popular belief, Mother has never spoken to her. not directly, at least. but having aziraphale wipe the frustrated tears from her eyes, watching him smile proudly whenever she speaks up for herself, feeling his arms wrap around her tightly when she needs it, abby realizes that maybe, just maybe, this is what a mother is supposed to act like.

#:((((((

[fallen-omens]

Aziraphale was shaking. His heart was beating in the tempo of a prestissimo sonata, his breaths were tremulous and short and he felt as light as a feather but as if he had the overwhelming weight of the world on his chest. His eyes were filled with tears but they didn’t seem ready to fall.

He had been on this Earth for six thousand years, but rarely before had he felt so painfully human.

Crowley was staring, quiet but expectingly, eyes hidden behind the dark lenses, the only telling of any emotion the shape of his eyebrows seeming to express a gradually fading hope. He was waiting for a response.

Aziraphale, struggling to regain control, said the first thing that came into his mind, an almost instinctive reaction by now. An old way of putting himself at a safe distance, of taking a step back from the inevitable cliff, of putting an armor of self-righteousness on. In that instant, he wanted to hurt as much as he had been hurt by the rejection of the miraculous possibility of a happy and carefree existence, of his only friend no longer being chased by Hell and forced to hide behind a facade of cruelness to cover up a brave, inteligent, just and caring soul.

After being kissed and held so desperately, Aziraphale reminded himself and the being he loved, loved, loved dearly that theirs was an impossible love.

The Angel of the Eastern Gate spoke the words he thought the Serpent of Eden truly deserved, but also the thing that separated them the most.

The Angel said to the Demon, “I forgive you”.

#hahahahahahaha jumping off a cliff now 🏃🏻🏃🏻🏃🏻 #this is so beautiful but so painful help

[fallen-omens]

“I can’t believe he caressed you? He won’t even touch me! And I’ve known him for, oh I don’t bloody know, six thousand years? The entirety of time? Eternal evil entity, me.” Crowley throws his hands up, and he thinks he smells smoke. From his ears probably. “So what’ve you got that I don’t? Big black wings can’t be all that frightening, I would’ve noticed if they scared him! Right?”

A pulsating silence (or maybe just the beating of his heart) sulks back at Crowley. Then his mouth rears back on an ‘o’.

“You! You’re all—all voluptuous! Is that it? Perky and bouncy and round…” Instantly, Crowley withers. “Or maybe, maybe I’m just too loud. Maybe he prefers the quiet types. S’ not like I can change that and—and he thinks I’m funny, right?”

Crowley slaps his knees loudly, huffing as he spins on his heel.

“Sod this! Sod it all! If he prefers squiggly, green things, then so be it. I’m just a sodding demon after all!”

The offending houseplant only gazes back at him, unfazed.