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castthy-nightedcolour · 3 years

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One- Shot: A Different Side (written as part of my series ‘don’t worry about a thing’ on AO3, link can be found at the bottom of the post as it won’t let me embed it)

Fandom: Good Omens

Characters: GN Reader, Crowley, a very annoying mouse

Warnings and Tags: snakes, animal death/ harm, swearing, uh oh we have a pest control problem, snake crowley, comfort , are they aren’t they

Summary: mouse traps, a skip full of rubbish and a broken down bus. not exactly your dream day, but your favourite demonic entity has a trick up his sleeve and behind his glasses to help you.

Word Count: 2778

Link to original: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31055930/chapters/81050182

If there was one word to describe your mood, that word would be vile. Tiny little irritants throughout the day had built to a simmering anger:

-Firstly, your bus into town had broken down about ten minutes away from your stop, meaning that you were forced to trek your way to the shops.

-Secondly, your trip to said shops wasn’t for any kind of retail therapy, but was instead to buy mouse traps. Your usually serene flat had been taken over by a little grey rodent who despite any humane efforts, was refusing to leave. You weren’t usually one for violence towards any living thing, but the little shit was out staying its welcome and had most recently been seen taking a bite out of a loaf of bread.

-When you did eventually get into town, it seemed to be the day for the world’s slowest walkers to take to the streets. Everyone was moving at about two steps per minute and you, being naturally speedy, were constantly waiting for gaps on the pavement to overtake. When you did manage to do this, there would be a whole new couple walking side by side, plodding along at a snail’s pace. You weren’t getting anywhere quick.

All in all, not your finest hour. This all came to a head on Oxford Street, or as you liked to call it, hell.

Your brain felt as though it were made of jelly, your temperature was rising, and someone stopped right in the middle of the street to check their phone. Slamming right into the back of them, you immediately let out something resembling a howl before running to your side off down Old Cavendish Street, somewhere slightly quieter. You leaned against the nearest wall, hot anger bubbling within you for what at the time, seemed like a life or death scenario of you getting out of town with the mousetraps, but in retrospect was just the culmination of various shitty things.

The last thing which you wanted to hear was any sign that you were being perceived, but a teenage boy riding past you on a bike shouting an obnoxious ‘WAHEYYYY’ at you was enough to tip you over the edge. You bashed your head back on the wall, feeling acid tears of anger falling, pedalled down your face by your short temper. Then, another shout came towards you from across the street.

‘Y/N? Is that you?’

You were ready to push yourself off the wall to lunge at this person until your brain caught up with recognition. Tilting your head forwards, your suspicions were confirmed when you saw floppy, ginger hair bouncing over the street atop a leather-clad frame. The sunglasses perched on his nose brought you a feeling somewhere between relief and fear.

You and Crowley had a relationship which can only be described as ‘are they? Aren’t they?’

You sure as hell couldn’t tell if he had any romantic feelings for you, and he gave off vibes so mixed that they were jumbled by this point. People always commented on the electricity between the two of you whenever you were together, but you tried not to get your hopes up and usually just put this down to his magnetising nature.

He’d told you about himself, and you thought that he must have trusted you somewhat to be able to disclose that he was a demon to you.

Then again, maybe he was just overly confident.

In the state you were currently in, you couldn’t decide whether to run into his arms to scream, or run as quickly away from him as was physically possible.

Your body chose neither and just stood there, open mouthed and gawking as the tears continued to fall with no effort from your eyelids. Crowley examined you, peering over the top of his sunglasses to try and decipher the scene before him.

‘Don’t tell me someone’s upset you, because I will find them for you, Y/N’ he started, rearing himself up as he spoke. You jumped in.

‘No, no. Not upset. I swear. Just… pissed off. Massively, massively pissed off. Short fuse today, y’see.’

‘Oh. Well, I know all about that. I’m quick to anger at any given moment but then again, ‘s in my nature. What exactly are you doing down here?’

You looked to your side at the gigantic skip full of building waste, then down to your feet where someone’s puke sat. You looked back up to the demon.

‘It was a quick escape, one that was made before I slapped someone in the face.’

Crowley looked slightly taken aback, not expecting any expression of violence from you considering your usually placid nature.

‘Ooookay. Well, I won’t ask for details but, here.’ He leaned over slightly and brushed away some of the tears which were still running down your face. You could swear that you both stopped breathing for a moment as he touched you but then again, you weren’t in a fit state for rational thinking.

‘Thank you,’ you breathed out. ‘I’m all good, I promise. Just need to breathe.’ You gave a reassuring smile to the demon and noticed him looking down to your hand, holding a flimsy plastic bag containing the mouse traps.

‘What you got there? Looks interesting.’ He said, tilting his head to try and get a closer look. You brought the bag up to your chest.

‘Oh, mouse traps. There’s a little shit thinking that he owns my flat who’s probably currently in my bread bin. Thought I’d stop the problem while I could, considering there’s that saying about seeing mice. Y’know, for every mouse you see, there’s always another one somewhere. Can’t wait to clean that up!’ Your words had somewhat of a bite, being spat like venom.

‘Woah. You really are pissed, aren’t you?’ Crowley responded, half smirking. For some reason, this set you off again.

‘Yes. Yes, actually I am. Because y’know what? This day has been fucking horrific! I genuinely don’t think that I’ve had two consecutive minutes of peace since the second I woke up. I can’t relax because of the mouse, then there was the bus, and the walking, and the pain in my feet, and the twat who decided to check his phone in the middle of Oxford Street. Sorry, who the hell does that? I just feel like I’ve been left out of any plans that the universe had to let people go about their day without a care in the world. So yes, I’m fuming.’ You gave a huff before realising that you were now crying again. Crowley stood slightly dumbstruck, shifting his weight between his feet. You glanced off to the side, watching the shoppers propel themselves down Oxford Street.

The demon then spoke, his voice low and sincere.

‘Can I give you a lift?’

—

After what felt like a windswept journey in the Bentley, Crowley screeched to a halt outside your flat. Jolting forwards slightly, the plastic bag containing the mouse traps crinkled between your legs.

You’d calmed down quite significantly, but now felt a combination of complete embarrassment that you’d had such an outburst in front of the being that you completely adored, and absolute excitement that he’d even offered you a lift. This wasn’t helped when you heard him say,

‘Let me walk you upstairs. Check that you’re okay.’

You felt fizzy, and as the two of you trudged up to your flat, you felt as though you could lift off any second. As you unlocked your front door, Crowley leaned on the doorframe, peering in to the hallway as you threw your bag on the floor. You suddenly regretted this as when the bag hit the floor, there was a scuttle from under your bedroom door, and the little mouse took one giant sprint off towards the kitchen. You screamed in shock as the little bastard took itself away, and Crowley grabbed onto your arm. This made you jump for a second time.

‘Woah woah there, calm down. It’s just a little mouse, we’ll sort this,’ Crowley sweetly spoke, lulling your heart back to a slightly normal rate. You looked down to his arm resting on yours and couldn’t help but smile slightly.

Crowley had a look on his face which would have read from ten miles away as one with a scheme brewing.

‘Look Y/N, I’m going to do something here which I don’t do very often, and all I’m asking is that you don’t freak out,’ the demon announced.

You couldn’t help but make a sarcastic joke.

‘What’s that then, the housework?’ Smirking, you looked up at Crowley who glared at you through his sunglasses.

‘Fine, you don’t need my help!’ He huffed, obviously taking the piss but you couldn’t help but tease him back into good spirits.

‘No no, sorry Crowley. What have you got for me?’

‘Snake.’

You stood there for a second, trying to make any sense of what he just said and burning up slightly as you wondered if this was perhaps his way of flirting.

‘A… a snake? You have a snake?’

‘Yes. Well, no. Well… yes. Look it’s complicated, can I just show you?’

Uh oh. Maybe this was him flirting.

You thought for a second before hearing an almighty crash from the kitchen, and from down the hallway you saw an entire loaf of bread fall to the ground, followed by a small army of mice. Again, you let out a scream as Crowley slammed the door shut behind the both of you.

‘How fucking many are there now?!’ You exclaimed, turning to face Crowley who was now quickly shifting between his feet. He suddenly grabbed your shoulders.

‘Look Y/N, tell me quick, do you have a phobia?’

‘Of mice? I think that’s pretty evident Crow-‘

‘No, of snakes. Are you scared of snakes?’

‘What is it with you and these snakes?’ You laughed. The demon then stood dead still and stared right at you.

‘Stay still. Don’t freak out please. I promise this will help.’

Before you knew it, Crowley’s hands had disappeared off your shoulders and he seemed to disappear entirely from before you. Confused, you looked down at the floor.

What you saw took your breath away for what felt like forever.

Rows and rows of black scales suddenly lined your hallway, flowing from side to side as the form made its way towards the kitchen. This didn’t take long, considering the snake’s body seemed to run on forever, there must have been at least 10 metres of the creature occupying your apartment.

You’d never really considered Crowley’s powers before. While you were aware that he was a demon, this thought didn’t control your every interaction with him. He was just Crowley- your friend Crowley- your possibly more than a friend Crowley- your Crowley. Shapeshifting had never been part of the picture.

But it was so, so beautiful.

Moving.

And snakes were never your favourite but this was just something else.

Squeals of mouse terror came from the kitchen as a massive shadow rose up throughout the whole apartment. Crowley was sitting up on his body, his head pointed towards any mouse that he could detect and a razor sharp stare in his luminescent eyes.

Your favourite part of this whole scenario was laying on the floor in front of you- Crowley’s sunglasses, sans Crowley for the first time ever. You smiled as you bent down to pick them up, your feet planted to the spot due to the inherently overwhelming nature of what was happening. You ran your fingers over the frames feeling the heat that was stored in them.

There was something so human about the lingering warmth to the metal, but that thing that made it so distinctively Crowley was the fact that the heat never seemed to fade.

The floor seemed to move as the scales once again shifted, with Crowley turning round to come back towards you. Cold fear seized your entire body, despite the oddly comforting and protective energy of this gigantic creature. His yellow eyes were right in front of your face before you’d even managed to properly react to him moving towards you.

You blinked and the Crowley that you knew and … ahem… was standing in front you, a live mouse swinging from his hand by the tail.

‘Consider those rodents dispatched.’

The mouse in his hand was thrashing wildly from side to side and while you hated the little shits, you couldn’t help but feel sorry for it. You went to protest but no words came out of your mouth.

You’d just witnessed something- something that couldn’t exactly be described as a miracle but to you- maybe?

Crowley noticed the panic in your eyes directed towards the mouse and realised what he needed to do. The mouse disappeared in another of your blinks.

There were so many pressing questions on your mind, but you only managed to actually articulate one of them.

‘Please tell me you didn’t eat those mice, Crowley?’ Your tone was somewhere between intrigue and massive concern.

The demon scoffed, ‘I prefer oysters normally, Y/N. No, I didn’t eat them. I can assure you though, they won’t be back any time soon.’

Palpable silence hung between the two of you. You naturally seemed to hold out Crowley’s sunglasses to him, staring directly into the eyes which served as a reminder of his other form as you did so.

Crowley went to slowly take the glasses off you, but in a snap decision, you snatched them back. Crowley wasn’t exactly thrilled by this.

‘Hey, don’t play games with those. They’re my-‘

He didn’t stand a chance of finishing his sentence before you jumped in, with your subconscious mind taking a grasp on your mouth. Maybe this was a trick of Crowley’s, but at least some of it came from your heart.

‘Do it again. Turn back.’

The two of you stared at each other as a smirk took over the demon’s face.

‘Really? It seemed to terrify you, dearest.’

The cockiness in his voice only persuaded you to carry on pushing.

‘Not at all! No no, it was just... well it was a shock at first. Obviously. Like who the hell else can do that? But no, not terror. It’s intrigue. I swear.’

You made sure to assert yourself in your voice as your brain convinced you that you would never rest again unless Crowley turned back into a snake. It was almost like the sheer shock had morphed into utter obsession in a matter of seconds.

And maybe you just adored every part of Crowley and him being vulnerable in showing a new side to you? Well...

Again, you blinked and he was gone for a moment, before the black reptile rose up to meet your gaze. He hadn’t continued to question you.

The presence was unexplainable, physically so big in the space but even just the idea of him just seemed to fill up every corner of the place. Moving the sunglasses into your right hand, you tentatively raised up your left.

‘Can... may I? Can I touch?’ You softly asked, mimicking a petting action in the air. Somehow, Crowley let you know that it was okay, pulling your hand towards him with some kind of magnetising energy.

Your fingers lightly brushed the scales on his head and you took a breath so deep you almost triggered hiccups. The texture was confusing, it almost seemed like it was shifting forms by the second- smooth then rough, hard then feather soft, but still always cool as marble. You fully rested your hand down as you glanced along the entire body, once again filling up the entire hallway.

‘Crowley, this is beautiful. I mean that.’ You whispered, transfixed on what you were seeing.

Then, the unimaginable happened. Your hand which had ended up resting on the snake’s head suddenly felt warm.

Was... was he blushing? You decided to test the water slightly more.

‘I didn’t even imagine that anything could be so magnificent but, well. Here you are. So gorgeous.’

Sure enough, another flush felt through your hand.

‘Crowley, are you blushing?’ You giggled. The heat on his face then took another rise, this time enough to hurt you slightly. You drew your hand away instinctually, but with a smile still on your face.

This was now a day worth noting. The day that started with a mouse in a bread bin and some unfortunately placed anger, and ended as the day that you made a snake blush.

And of course, he made you blush too.

A new side of Crowley. One that you couldn’t help but adore.

#good omens one shot #good omens #good omens x reader #crowley x reader #snake crowley #good omens fanfic #reader insert

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forthetherapyy · 3 years

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Fav Larry Fics I Read In August 21

We’ll Cast Some Light (You’ll Be Alright) - fondleeds

For Harry and his team, times have never been harder, especially when a few old friends turned foes show up. Harry is left with just over forty days to overcome the hurdle of tension between them and reconcile their past, and figure out just what Louis is hiding from him before it’s too late. (74k) [It’s a demon hunting fic with exs Larry, what more could you want?]

Someone To Fly Home To - kingsofeverything @kingsofeverything

Louis. 55 year old pilot who wants someone to fly home to. Harry swipes right. - Louis and Harry’s marriage ended more than a decade ago, but fate keeps bringing them back together. (34k) [Love some older larry and exs to lovers is a huge fav, clearly.]

The Nation’s Sweetheart - snowy38 @snowy38

In limped a graceful giant; slim bodied but broad shouldered with thick thighs. Harry's hair was a little wild where it had grown out of it's usually boyish short style. For some reason Louis' fingers flexed, as if wanting to course through the flicks in the bottom of his rich brown hair. It had been curly once. Louis had seen pictures of him innocent with wide green eyes and a wider, bright white, toothy grin. Everything about him screamed privilege. Louis wondered if he knew he'd only taken this job to stop him losing his flat. (77k) [This was so good, I haven’t seen it recced before, which I do not understand, it’s ridiculously good.]

Speaking of Marvels - quitter, navigator

AU. Louis is a nanny in suburban New Jersey, and the neighbors' son is home from college for the summer. It was supposed to be a fling. (100k) [The writing is so beautiful and it’s the perfect length, their feelings are tangible.]

Our Lives, Non-Fiction - indiaalphawhiskey @indiaalphawhiskey

Heralded as the next Neil Gaiman, Louis Tomlinson does not appreciate being told that his very serious novel is in dire need of a PR boost. Even worse, that it comes in the form of a joint book tour with the UK’s #1 online romance-writing sensation Marcel Styles. Already turbulent at best, their partnership takes a drastic turn when, overly stressed about his looming deadline, Marcel accidentally blurts out a secret: though he’s famed for his scorching hot literary love scenes, he is, actually, a virgin. Convinced that the only way to rid himself of writer’s block is to gain some experience, Marcel asks Louis, author-to-author, to sleep with him – for Science. And of course Louis agrees because, well, what on Earth could possibly go wrong? (113k) [This was reccomended so many times but I always put it off, I don’t know why?!? It genuinely thought me a lot about my own writing. So heartfelt.]

I’m Weeping Warm Milk And Honey (That You Stay Surrounding Me) - FangirlFlailings

Louis is a first-year medical student, still a little tender as he recovers from a personal trauma. Harry works, amongst other things, as a professional cuddler, though he comes with baggage of his own. They don’t mean it to, but the intimacy that blooms between them quietly changes them both. (78k) [Really beautiful writing, their connection was so intense and safe, my heart hurt for Louis. Please check the tags!!!]

It Feels Different When You’re With Me - Rearviewdreamer @all-these-larrythings

Harry fell in love with sign language as a kid. He never imagined the first love of his life would lead him straight to his second. (45k) [Just really sweet and comforting ending.]

Oh We’re In Love Aren’t We - delsicle @eeveelou

Louis is trying to get through his second year of university while dealing with his three stupidly loud and stupidly in love roommates, a series of boring classes, and his job working the graveyard shift at his campus’s favorite drunk food shop. Harry is new to town and looking for somewhere to live when he finds a long-abandoned apartment that brings him right to Louis’s doorstep. Or, a soft 19/19 university AU in which Harry is getting a fresh start, Louis isn’t subtle, no one does their homework and 3 AM is an excellent time to fall in love. (20k) [It’s jsut soft soft soft.]

Lightning Strikes Twice - dinosaursmate @dinosaursmate

Louis slipped his hand onto Harry’s thigh, snaking his fingers up and inwards. “I’m a big fan. You’re so talented, and I have to admit that I actually fancy you a bit.” “Yeah?” Harry reached up to push Louis’ fringe out of his eyes. “Well, you know, I like to try and be accommodating to my fans.” “You’re quite well known for that,” Louis whispered as he turned his head some more, their mouths an inch apart. “So I hear.” Rock star Harry Styles was nineteen when he met Louis, a groupie with a huge heart that Harry couldn’t quite shake from his mind. Fate granted him a second chance at the age of sixty, his washed up and lonely existence being transformed by a widower with a bookshop. (104k) [Desperately hot and very emotional all at once.]

Flash Back to Me - akatomlinson @mason-conaway

Louis narrows his eyes, wanting more than anything to tell Liam to go fuck himself, but he can’t be sure, is the thing. As much as he knows for a fact that he would never date someone like Harry Styles, he has months missing from his memory. And it’s scary to think that, in that time, everything he’s come to know about himself could have changed so drastically. Or the one where Louis loses his memory and Harry just about loses his mind trying to win him back (or something). (73k) [Amnesia fic!! You really felt Louis struggling with his memory and also with liking Harry despite not wanting to; hence we have angst.]

#here we go again #struggled to find good ones this month #ao3 larry fics #larry fic recs #my monthly fic rec #august 21 fic rec #my fic rec

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moveslikebucky · 4 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Mr Cortese/Mr Harrison (Good Omens) Characters: Aziraphale, Crowley Additional Tags: I tagged this both book and tv because Harrison and Cortese aren't on the tv show, but it really fits more in the TV canon, anyway to the laundry list, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Established Relationship, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), in this house we love and respect the bois with facial hair, Inspired by Fanart Summary:

His mind drifts. Drifts to thoughts of long fingers straightening a necktie, firm and yet gentle. Purposeful in their precision. Drifts to thoughts of green and navy. Thoughts of lean well-turned calves hidden under that tartan pattern. Drifts to a mop of crimson hair, blending to a rust red beard. He wonders if it would be scratchy or soft; how it would feel against the soft skin of his neck as whispers are carried into his ear, spoken on a forked and silver tongue.

His grip on the desk tightens, the wood underneath groans. Five thirty-one.

He’s late.

---

Ok so @naniiebimworks posted this lovely art and mentioned the lack of sexy fic with them as the tutors Mr. Harrison and Mr. Cortese. And then I blacked out xD so now this exists!

Snippet under the cut, full fic on AO3 (because very Spicy)

Tick…Tick…Tick…

Aziraphale scratches at the side of his face, an errant tickle that needs seeing to. Sees the second hand tick on his pocket watch, counting down the seconds and minutes closer to half past five.

He leans against the desk in the study, light casting long shadows as the sun was starting to dip. Orange glow falling over the Persian rug, the mahogany desk, the dust motes drifting through the air. An eerie sort of silence. Not uncomfortable, but not peaceful either. A silence of anticipation, possibly of anxiousness. He checked his watch again. Five twenty-seven. Three minutes until his visitor.

Aziraphale swallows heavily, willing his pulse to calm down. They don’t do this sort of thing often, too dangerous. Too many eyes, from above and below, at the best of times. It’s been easier, here carrying on and raising Warlock — Heaven and Hell are both busy with their own preparations for the End and the close proximity is a given. No one even bats an eye.

He checks his watch again. Five twenty-nine.

His grip on the desk tightens, the wood underneath groans. Five thirty-one.

He’s late.

Maybe he isn’t coming. Maybe he changed his mind about this. It’s always been too dangerous, after all. After all, it hasn’t been all that long since Aziraphale had him in the garden shed, back when he’d gone by Ashtoreth. They wait decades, sometimes centuries, between these moments.

But Crowley’s voice is still echoing in his head. He can still see him leaning in, whispering. “Five thirty, I’ll be here.” Crowley says it differently, when this is what he wants. Puts a hint of temptation behind it. Not enough for Aziraphale to succumb, never enough for that. Just enough to give him the option. Just enough to entice that arousal to pool in his stomach. Just enough for him to know that it’s an offer.

That Crowley is on offer.

The door creaks open and Aziraphale smiles despite himself. Crowley looks for all the world nonplussed, but Aziraphale catches the anxious fiddling with his cufflinks. The shuffle to his step. The nerves that dance like lightning just under the surface of him. Aziraphale has always seen these things Crowley tries to hide.

Aziraphale perches himself on top of the desk as Crowley comes closer, neither of them daring to speak. Those long, gentle, and purposeful fingers come to rest on Aziraphale’s knees. That thin and lanky frame taking its place between Aziraphale’s legs. He’d like to keep Crowley there, he thinks. He fits there so well, like he belongs there. But that’s so true of everything, really. Crowley fits neatly into his life in every way. The spaces between their fingers, the Chesterfield in the back of the bookshop, and here, between his legs, coasting a gentle and tentative touch up the angel’s thighs.

“Mr. Cortese,” Crowley says, breathless already. Aziraphale has told him to be careful before, lest this hedonist angel get an ego about how much he’s able to affect him.

“Mr. Harrison,” Aziraphale counters, fingers drifting over the knot of Crowley’s tie, “did you have some business with me today that I’ve forgotten?”

Continue reading on AO3

#my fic #good omens #nsft #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #more tutors fic!#we need it as a fandom! xD

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claudiafekete · 3 years

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This is another ordinary story of “how xxx fandoms changed my life” -

- or maybe not. you decide. I want to write it down. trigger warning for politics, discussion of sexual violence, mild gender dysphoria It’s also horribly long. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

When I first came to tumblr, I had just graduated from APH. Short for Axis Power Hetalia. I learned about it in the form of manga. For years it was my everything - I learned what fanfic or fanart meant and I learned the basic online etiquette. As I grew in years, it accompanied me.

Until it didn’t.

Shortly after I fell into solangelo.

It’s a fun story, how I picked up PJO years after years of absence. My brother was whining about something written in Magnus Chase. “What do you think the Norse Gods were going to do to Percy that Annabeth was crying?” He demanded. I expressed my confusion. He kept on with his different theories and I made the decision to look it up online later.

My online search of Percy Jackson’s fate soon revealed something unknown to me before: solangelo. The first canon gay ship I ever knew. Therefore, at the ripe old age of 19, I threw myself into this endless hole called “tumblr” for the first time.

It was the most LGBTQ+ friendly place I had ever been. I joke you not. It was also the place where I was taught not only how a healthy relationship should look like, but also how sex should or could be like. You don’t learn anything healthy about sex in Chinese or Mandarin using fandom, at least during the years I was in them. There were rigid 攻/受(roughly translated as top/bottom) stereotypes that everyone rushed to squeezed their characters into them. A lot of time though both person might ship A with B, they wouldn’t interact because one thought A should top and another thought B should top. Their different topping designation resulted in depictions of the characters’ personalities so dramatically differed that you couldn’t recognize them as the same characters. Other than the refreshing relationship dynamics, Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard offered me a chance to take a look at my gender identity. I had known that theoretically non-binary people existed outside of binary gender, but I hadn’t known how one might live as one or describe themselves as one. I’m not trying to claim that Alex Fierro’s story is the only story of non-binary people. I’m trying to say that it was the starting point for me to make exploration and find the label “agender” for myself.

I stayed in APH for 6 years. I had expected to stay in solangelo for longer.

Entered June 2019 with its whispers and anxious demonstrations. Entered folks pouring into streets in Hong Kong. Entered tear gas and facemasks and sticks and a bullet scarcely missing the heart and journalists beaten by police. Entered young students not of age disappearing mysteriously. Entered people dressed in white attacking citizens and not arrested by police. Entered dead bodies that were probably “被自殺 (being suicided)”.

Entered a city falling into the hands of tyrants next to your door, and you didn’t know how to help. You didn’t know what to do with yourself with your clean and spare hands. You were so far away from the frontline, you were angry and helpless and hopeless for that.

It was the first time I witnessed, first-hand, how the Chinese government directed the discussion online, so that it seemed as if there were random mobs who were disturbing the peace of Hong Kong and possibly taking money or being trained by US. “Bullshit. Would there still be so many kids hurt on street if we have received any kinds of training for this?“ Of course, the majority of Chinese people inland wouldn’t hear that. Hong Kong is a former colony. Any calls of outrage toward the present government must be made by disillusioned young people who were unaware of colonization and imperialism.

That was why I took refugee in Good Omens. I needed to run some where to stop myself from scratching myself to blood. I needed to some works for these clean and spare hands to do so that they wouldn’t pick up something destructive, such as a knife.

If the PJOverse fandom had felt the best place on earth, well, the Good Omens fandom lifted me into paradise.

I’ve never seen so much kindness being showed under one tag. The creators and actors were all kind and interacted with the fans in their own ways. We were encouraged to do everything, anything, to build art with it however we liked. We as fans were recognized. We were seen. We were ... cared for. It was overwhelming, in a good way. For that, I would be forever thankful to Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett and Michael Sheen and so many others in the production. I would be forever thankful to artists who liberated body types and freed the ties between gender expression and genitals. I would be forever thankful for the fantastic creators out there.

Would it seem as if I’ve only cherished the mutuals I met in Good Omens fandom? It wasn’t my intention. There are friends I keep in touch long after I fell out of love with APH. There are mutuals I got to know through solangelo and I feel, I hope that we are friends. Everyone who has chat with me I do my best to remember. (Though I do left conversation in weird places, become so ashamed of my incompetency that I do not continue them.)

What I’m trying to say is, as good as the solangelo fandom was, I still ran into biphobic posts here and there. It was only once or twice – but it was a constant reminder that being bisexual didn’t seem “valid” to some of the other LGBTQ+ members out there. Who cares what cis-gendered, heteronormative people said? Bullets that shot from friendly fire hurt the worst.

Besides, with a large and vibrant fandom like Good Omens, it’s easier to feel less alone and more… seen.

Damn right. Even after writing more that 5000 words in English it is still so easy to fall back into the comfortable nest of mother tongue. I can read simplified Chinese characters as well as the traditional Chinese characters I grow up using. There probably will never be getting the accent right but soundlessly devouring words in front of a screen? I excel at that.

That was what’s happening when the days rolled into January, 2020. I flew to US as an exchange student and exchanged long letters with a young Chinese woman I met in Good Omens fandom. I’ve never felt so alone in life. English as in creative writing has never come more naturally for me. The words burst in my head and arranged themselves freely on screen or on papers. I’ve never felt more hopeful about my writing ability.

The days rolled into March, 2020.

The first time my mom told me to come home over home, I laughed. The second time, I frowned. Before she pleaded me for the third time, I had grabbed a ticket.

I hadn’t imagined the disease plaguing China and its neighboring countries would affect the whole world.

You lived the rest of the story. I fled back to Taiwan.

That was where Doctor Who came in. Or David Tennant. Such a strange time. For fourteen days I was the only living human in the house. I watched Casanova – or was it later? Hamlet definitely came before that. Then I could live with my family again. I handed in my homework and wrote in a different language than the people around me were speaking. My parents were working. My little brother was in school. When there was no one to talk to me I either read or watch Doctor Who to pass the time. I fell for Thirteen. I fell for twissy. Falling fast and hard and completely won over by their glamour.

I started internship. There were some small breaks where I could catch an episode or half, but never as much time as before. I dipped into fandom wiki and found that no matter how much research I did, there would always be details I overlooked simply because I could not afford hours watching all the episodes. No matter how hard I squeezed my schedule for time, no matter how much I devoted myself to the series, it would never be enough.

So I gave up, and let it go. For the first time in quite a while, I willingly gave up something for the simple reason of “I want to live a more comfortable life”.

Came summer. Damp air combined with biting heat and piles after piles of biochemical terms made life agonizing. An ordinary kind of pre-pandemic “agonizing” which felt like a luxury in a world that was ending.

Hong Kong fell.

It was bound to happen. Once I heard protestors fought their way into the legislature I knew, for almost an year I knew, nothing good would come out of this. CCP would never allow its subjects acting out of hand. With such open despise to the authority, CCP would take nothing but a full conquest at the end of it.

See where we are now. As long as you’re “interfering” the political climate “inside” China, it doesn't matter which nationality you hold or where you were or how long it has been since you made the statement. “According to the law”, China can come for you. No, better, it can tell your country to hand you over. What a clever empire. What a graceful empire.

What a horrifying empire.

With the news I spiraled down fast. I kept away from the young Chinese woman I was exchanging letters with, I kept away from any kinds of Chinese social media, and the worst of all, I kept away from Good Omens, for it was sweet and kind and hopeful, for it reminded me of a time where fighting seemed to make a difference. I was empty and exhausted and a husk. Something must come out to fill the void. Someone needed to paint me in colors so that the world wouldn’t notice I was fading away.

I was surprised at who took the brush.

After ten years, the first man I ever have a crush on strolled back into my life.

He was over thirty, but I always pictured him in his early twenties. Dark hair, eyes of grey or silvery blue. Loud laughter that sounded like a bark. Swift and elegant. Intelligent. Prideful. Stubborn. I embraced him as I’ve done ten years ago as a little child.

When I looked past him, I saw someone else.

Worn, weathered, with wry humor. Attentive and considerate. Tortured by the world yet never stop giving out kindness. Countless scars. Grey hair unfitting to his age. I didn’t pay him much attention ten years ago. This time, I looked.

Let me introduce you Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, my very first crush and the man who is too much like my last crush.

2020, a month before Fall semester started, I trekked cautiously, timidly back into Harry Potter fandom.

The fandom of August 2020 was very different from fandom of 2010. The lack of author, for one – it became mandatory to denounce the author’s transphobic statement and other bigotry setting. I’m glad that everyone is doing their best to make it a friendly place for minority groups. Though I’m afraid, by making it a white or black situation with short statements and no discussion, it wouldn’t really help people understand why she is wrong in this. However irrefutable the author’s guilt seems to us, it is not something obvious to those who are unfamiliar with the subjects.

But it does feel good to see blogs and fics with the introduction such as “If you support the author’s transphobic bullshit this place does not welcome you”. It feels reliving.

The second was, I found the type of work I’m actively pursuing changed.

Back when I was young – when I was so little I didn’t even know what the word “fandom” meant – I read Character x OFC and some M x M. During the APH period I read an alarming amount of M x M and countless historical AU. When digging through solangelo, beside the canon divergence stories, simple AU like coffee shop grabbed my attention. Coming out stories were my comforts. The best of Good Omens fics were either in canon verse discussing desires, bravery, humanity and mortality, or setting in an AU with the promise of sweet, fluffy endings. Doctor Who almost always focused on Time and Space. Love was twisted and so often tainted by anger. Monster and god were very alike.

I came a full circle back to the Marauder era, and found myself not looking for heroes, but for young fighters struggling desperately in a seemingly hopeless war. I looked for people who were frightened but never, never ever going down without a fight.

I used to find characters and events unfolding in foreign places, now I want characters who are close to what I am or what I want to be.

---

So, that’s it, my grand journey through multiple fandoms and basically a journey of self-discovery. It’s messy, sometimes painful, but always with so much joy blooming along the way.

Something doesn’t change. I’m still obsessed with words. I’m still a sucker for happy ending. I’m still wishing someone will come and love me the way I need to be loved.

Something does. I stop imagining that some magical power will come into my life and solve everything. I stop looking for others to save me from myself. I start believing that though wounds hurt, some of them do teach us to be a better person.

Long ago, I saw my friends and I as rabbits, without proper weapons to defend ourselves. That wouldn’t do. I thought. For my friends I’ll grow into a snake with fangs to protect them. Maybe I have grown into a snake. Maybe I haven’t. But I do hope I won’t stop fighting for those I love, with those I love.

I hope I won’t give up.

#APH #axis power hetalia #pjo #percy jackson #solangelo #tw: politics #tw: sex mention #magnus chase #magnus chase and the gods of asgard #alex fierro #hong kong extradition bill #hong kong demonstration #good omens #doctor who #tw: personal review of pandemic #harry potter #sirius black #remus lupin #hong kong national security law

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gallavictorious · 4 years

Text

Top 5 Male Characters

I was tagged by @whaticameherefor - thanks, dear, this was fun!

Standard disclaimer: These are some of my favourites – I'd be hard-pressed to choose the actual top 5. Whom I love best varies a bit (though no 1 below will probably always be no 1).

Darth Vader/Anakin Skywalker (Star Wars)

This one strode straight into my heart on Boxing Day 1994, and it's fair to say that my life might well have looked rather different if he hadn't. Star Wars was my first big fandom, and it's still the one I keep in my heart of hearts, even if I'm not into Disney's revisionist stuff at all. (Which is a shame, because Rey, Poe and Finn are darling and I would have loved to see good movies wih them.) Darth Vader is kind of like a fusion between two of my very early favorites: Shredder (from Turtles) and Zorro, so yeah. I fell for Vaderkin the second he said “I am your father” because in that moment I knew that a, there was an exciting history there, and b, he'd turn back to the light side. I was a dangeorusly genre savvy 10-year old, I just want that said – and I've been a sucker for a redemption arc since... forever. I have a vivid memories of dreaming of Duchess Ravenwaves of Lady Lovelylocks becoming fast friends when I was a 7 or 8.

Excellent things about my dumbass Chosen One include his dedication to being a Dramatic Bitch, him being very intelligent about some things while being so fucking stupid about others, his general prowess (Kee has a competence kink, y'all... ), and the fact that he loves enough to both break the world and heal it. Truth be told, though, I've loved him for so long that I can't really say what it is I love about him, the same way you can't really say that about siblings or close friends: I just know that I do.

Jim Moriarty (Sherlock)

Jim's an amoral genius with a thing for Sherlock Holmes, and not only does he dress well but he is fun, which is only all too rare in villains. (Unless you go for the actually insane and sadistic ones, which I don't so much.) If you gonna be evil, you might as well delight in it! When pulling off a complicated heist, Jim takes the time to design a completely bogus app with super cute icons, in spite of him being the only one who will ever see them. This is the kind of dedication I look for! Underneath the slick facade and wisecracks, there's the very occasional glimmer of utter ennui and loneliness, which makes his gleeful embrace of CRIME all the more compelling to watch.

Incidentally, Sherlock was the fandom that had me move from LiveJournal to Tumblr back in 2012. I'm extremely intrigued by Sherlock and Jim's relationship – foe yay dreams were made of this – and I have to say that my interest in the series dwindles since Jim's death (THERE WAS NO BODY! HE COULD HAVE FAKED IT! DON'T AT ME!), thought that might well be due to season 3 and (particularly) 4 not quite living up to the absolute glory that was the two first seasons.

Gabriel Gray/Sylar (Heroes)

Driven by a need to be 'special' (blame it on his mom), humble watchmaker Gabriel Gray adopts the name Sylar and starts murdering people to steal their various super powers, as you do. Sylar ticks several of my boxes: extreme competence, one-liners, into being super dramatic, proper enjoyment of being bad, strong eyebrow game, redemption arcs. Yes, arcs - there are several, as Sylar kind of goes back on forth on the whole being evil thing. Later seasons introduce a 'hunger' that's supposed to explain his descent into darkness, which I'm not a huge fan of (I'm more into people making horrible choices of their own free will; drugs, psychotic breaks and being possessed by dark powers bore me) but I suppose it'd be a little hard to sell his ultimate redemption otherwise, because he kills so many people and often seem to have quite a bit of fun doing it. To be fair, he kind of goes to prison for eight years (even if it's all in his head... ) but yeah.

Since Sylar interacts with and antagonizes pretty much all of the heroic main cast, and does have shades of affable evil, he is very easy to ship with a lot of the good guys. Catnip for a foe yay fan like me.

Lucifer Morningstar (The Sandman, Lucifer)

Yes, this the comic book character the TV show is based on, but while the show has some charming qualities of its own, it's utterly rubbish as far as adaptations go. Comic book Lucifer is cold, brilliant, sardonic, never lies but manipulates like nobody's business. He plays the piano. He doesn't give a rat's ass about anybody's sins or immortal souls: he just wants to escape the tyranny of predestination. Which, you know, highly relatable. I'd want to do that to, if I believed in predestination. The people he feels anything but vaguely disdainful disinterest for are extremely few, and even those he does care about he'd probably be willing to sacrifice to achieve his own ends. He's not a charming character – but fuck, is he compelling!

The Lucifer introduced in Neil Gaiman's The Sandman is slightly softer than the version in Mike Carey's spin-off Lucifer, and I love them both. The Lucifer of the TV show... well, he does play the piano, I suppose.

Ian och Mickey (Shameless US)

Yes, this is cheating but you cannot make me choose! If I was forced to put only one, I'd put Mickey – though I miss Ian more when he's not around than I miss Mickey when he's missing from the show. In fairness to me, while they are both very interesting characters, they arguably become something else entirely and completely awesome when they're together. Mickey being such an utter thug while still retaining enough of a soft heart to be super soft for Ian, and Ian being genuinely kind and caring while at the same time being a little punk and generally ready to throw down.... Their differences, and their rather difficult circumstances, cause them quite a lot of problem over the years, but they complement each other in the best of ways: and they truly appreciate each other and have fun together. I love them, ok?

I’d like to tag @iwannabewhereyouaremickey @fiona-fififi @imberantiel and @sickness-health-all-that-shit - no pressure whatsoever, if this is not your thing though. :) Also, anyone else wanna do this, I’m always curious to know about people’s interests beyond Shameless, so have at it please.

#yeah i have a thing for villains #mickey is soft as fuck compared to most of my massmurdering faves #characters who I am a bit upset about not including #are sawyer from lost #he shares some qualities with mickey btw!#and scheming benjamin 'i lied' linus from the same show #i will never not love angriest boi zuko from atla #spike from buffy has been a fave for almost 20 years #but the older I get the more annoyed I get with his development in s6-s7 #i'm one of star wars' wrenga 'jix' jixton few but dedicated fans #he's incidentally not entirely dissimlar from eliot spencer of leverage #whom i also love #because holy fuck competence kink #danny mahealani from teen wolf is one of few genuinele nice characters i adore #because while villains are the type of characters i tend to stan #kindness is the trait i admire most in others #i will never forgive teen wolf for writing him out of the show #personal

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hashtagleh · 5 years

Text

This is What Would Be Considered a Morally Grey Area

read it on AO3

by HashtagLEH

“Will you please, kidnap me?” Warlock requested in the same tone of voice he had asked to go to the zoo the day before.

“Of course not, Warlock,” Aziraphale said immediately. “You are very safe here. The security is flawless.”

“Don’t lie to him!” Crowley hissed, clutching the boy closer to him as though it would make him forget the words the angel had just spoken. “Do you want the Prince of This World to remember you as a liar at the time of the Apocalypse?”

“Mommy and Daddy wouldn’t even care!” Warlock went on insistently, paying no heed to his nanny’s nonsense words. They made no sense, anyway.

“Of course they would, Warlock,” Crowley said immediately. “After they noticed you were gone, anyway.”

Words: 6152, Chapters: 1/1

Fandoms: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Good Omens (TV)

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley & Warlock Dowling, Aziraphale & Warlock Dowling, Nanny Ashtoreth & Warlock Dowling, Warlock Dowling & Brother Francis, Warlock Dowling & Adam Young, Brian & Pepper & Wensleydale & Adam Young (Good Omens), Warlock Dowling & the Them (Good Omens)

Characters: Warlock Dowling, Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale (Good Omens), Harriet Dowling, Thaddeus J. Dowling, Adam Young (Good Omens), Mr. Young (Good Omens), Arthur Young

Additional Tags: Protective Crowley, Godparents Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Softie Crowley (Good Omens), Kidnapping, Surprise Adoption Really, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, semi-seriously anyway, Attempt at Humor, it came out more serious than I intended, Child Neglect, The Dowlings Are Terrible Parents, Aziraphale and Crowley Are Wonderful Parents, and kidnappers, they take their jobs very seriously, jobs as parents and as kidnappers, look Warlock literally begged for them to kidnap him, Crowley Can't Resist Puppy Eyes, Aziraphale Can't Resist Crowley, He Can Resist Anything, Anything Except Temptation, Matchmaker Warlock, He knows they love each other, JUST KISS ALREADY Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Not Canon Compliant, Dad Crowley (Good Omens), Dad Aziraphale (Good Omens), Humor, Nanny Crowley (Good Omens), Nanny Ashtoreth (Good Omens) - Freeform, Gardener Aziraphale (Good Omens)

Crowley knew that the brunch was important.

Or, at least he assumed that it was. It was what he tried convincing to himself, so that he didn’t have to think about the fact that Harriet Dowling was not one he would count as a good mother. Neither of the Dowlings were fit to be parents, to be completely truthful about it. And when he let himself think about those things, he wondered if maybe they had only had a child because it was the Expected thing to do.

And Crowley liked Warlock. He was curious, sometimes a brat – but then all kids were. It meant he was doing his job right, to see the boy acting normal like that.

But what Warlock needed were parents who actually cared about him, and wanted to be around him and play with him. He needed to know that his parents loved him.

He told himself it was because if Warlock didn’t feel loved by his parents then he would have no real desire to destroy the earth when he was eleven and reached his destiny, and definitely not because it hurt something in Crowley’s chest when the boy was crying about missing his mom or wishing his dad could come play catch with him in the garden.

Harriet had told her son the night before that they could go to the zoo that day, if he just went to sleep right then and stopped trying to bother her. (This was particularly tempting, because the gardener had done a marvelous job at instilling a love of animals into the child, and his favorite books were generally ones with lots of different types of animals. Even Harriet had caught on to her son’s love of them and gifted him a large children’s encyclopedia at his last birthday. Well, she’d told Nanny Ashtoreth to go purchase it, but it was the thought that counted. It was one of the boy’s most treasured items.) The five-year-old had immediately lit up, not detecting the absentminded tone with which his mother spoke and believing her words in a way that only a young child could.

When Warlock had gotten up that morning, staying in his room until eight o’ clock because those were the rules Harriet had set out that she wasn’t to see him before then on any day, he had run to his mother’s room with talk of visiting lions and giraffes and monkeys on his lips.

But when Harriet had appeared in the hallway before Warlock had even gotten there, the boy had stopped in his tracks at the sight of her in a pink sundress, heels, and pearls, and it had only taken him a moment to understand. Yes, he was naïve enough to have believed her the night before, but he wasn’t stupid. She was dressed much too nicely for the zoo, and the heels were a dead giveaway that she had no intention to be walking around that day, much less among animals and food carts and suburban dads with fanny packs who reeked of sunscreen.

To her credit, she noticed Warlock as she was walking down the hall, but that was where the credit stopped building up. Without stopping or bending down to be at Warlock’s level (as Nanny did when she spoke with him), she said, “Oh, I’m sorry, sweetie – I have to go to a brunch with some of Daddy’s friends and their wives. We’ll try for the zoo another time, okay?”

And then she had been off in a flurry of pink, not even acknowledging Nanny Ashtoreth, who was standing at the end of the hallway and had watched everything that had just occurred.

Warlock had stood in the hallway a moment, and Crowley braced himself for the rage, for the earthquakes or fires or something to show how upset the Antichrist was. There was nothing he could do to stop it, so he just hoped that he had been a good enough nanny that Warlock didn’t want to set his sights on the demon, or on the angel who had probably just gotten to mangling tending to the rose bushes.

But Warlock had turned around then, tears in his eyes, and Crowley began to crouch down to accept the hug it appeared the boy was going to need, but then he just ran past the demon and back to his room, slamming the door decisively behind him.

***

Crowley allowed Warlock exactly six hundred and sixty-six seconds to cry alone in his bedroom, because he knew that that number was important to his infernal father so it was probably important to the son as well, and it just seemed a perfect number to round off of. After that eleven minutes and six seconds was over however, he rapped lightly on the door with his knuckles to let Warlock know he was coming in before opening it without waiting for a response. He was a demon, he wasn’t polite, and the only reason he knocked in the first place was because he didn’t want to startle the antichrist into discorporating him.

Warlock wasn’t crying anymore, but he still looked extraordinarily sad as he sat against the edge of his bed and brushed his fingers mournfully over the back of his stuffed lion. (Crowley had tried to get him attached to a better animal – a snake, perhaps – but the baby at the time was determined to like the lion the best. It wasn’t even a male lion – it had no mane. Harriet had mistaken it for a bear a few too many times because of it.)

“Why doesn’t Mommy like me?” Warlock asked when Crowley silently sat down beside him on the ground.

“I suspect it’s because she’s a terrible woman,” Crowley said blandly. What? He wasn’t going to lie to him – he didn’t want the antichrist remembering that his Nanny was a liar when the time for Armageddon came. That wouldn’t mean just an inconvenient discorporation – that was the path to definite destruction.

Warlock knew his nanny well enough that such a sentence was not out of the norm for her, and he didn’t say anything to try to argue with her. He thought privately that his nanny was probably right, though he didn’t want to say so out loud and make it true. Nanny always said he could control reality to his will, and he didn’t want to make his nanny’s words definitively true.

“Not to worry, Warlock,” Nanny said seriously. “One day, you will destroy every fool who’s ever wronged you and leave their corpses for the dogs.”

“You always say that, Nanny,” Warlock said glumly, and sniffed.

“Well, that just tells you it’s true!” Crowley posited. “Have you ever known me to lie to you, Warlock? No? I thought not. Trust every word I say. Now, come along. Brother Francis is probably wondering if we’ve forgotten about him, not having stopped by in so long.”

“We saw Brother Francis yesterday morning,” Warlock reminded her, but nonetheless rose to his feet.

“Yes, and he’s got just a terrible memory, so he probably won’t remember it anyway,” Crowley said in her usual no-nonsense tone. She raised an eyebrow at the way the boy raised both his arms in a clear directive that he wanted to be picked up. But this was a boy who would grow to be her master (though most days it felt like he already was, and it had nothing to do with him shaping reality but more to do with how she couldn’t deny the big brown eyes that looked up at her), and so with only a small sigh, she acquiesced, leaning down to lift him under the armpits and settle him on her hip.

“I don’t think Brother Francis has an awful memory,” Warlock told him seriously as they made the trek out of the room and down the stairs. “He ‘membered that you like the tulips more than the roses. Mommy likes roses more.”

“That’s because your mother is a basic woman, lacking in imagination,” Crowley sniffed. “And I should hope that Brother Francis remembers I like tulips. I destroyed the Dutch economy because of it.” Completely by accident, but it was still very memorable in history, even now, so he took credit for the economy drop rather than the gorgeous fields that the Netherlands boasted now.

“Daddy talks about economy,” Warlock remembered, likely picking out the only thing he’d comprehended in the last bit of that sentence.

“Your earthly father talks about anything if he thinks it’s important-sounding enough to know two bits about,” Crowley said drolly as he opened the back door to go out into the garden. One of the maids glanced at them, likely hearing the comment, before quickly looking away and finding something Very Important that she had to attend to immediately. “Now, your infernal father on the other hand only talks about Important things. Always remember, Warlock – if it sounds Unimportant or Stupid, don’t say it. And don’t agree with anyone else who says it either, because you are Above such things. Or Below, as the case may be.”

“D’you think you an’ Brother Francis could take me to the zoo sometime?” Warlock asked suddenly, perking up hopefully and lifting his head to look up at Nanny. He didn’t appear to have absorbed anything his nanny had just said.

“Er…” Crowley floundered, grasping at something to say. Take Warlock to the zoo? With Aziraphale? Not only did that sound like a disaster of epic proportions, because it was one thing to work in the same household, but going out in public was just asking for trouble from either of their respective sides – but also, what was he supposed to do if he did lose the antichrist along the way? Bless it, but he may as well descend into Satan’s lair himself and ask for destruction right then and there.

Warlock sensed his indecision, and like the manipulative little fiend that he was (Crowley may or may not have shed a tear or two of pride behind his sunglasses, but he would never say), he continued to wheedle for the answer he wanted.

“I wouldn’t run away, promise!” he exclaimed. “I’ll stay right next to you an’ Brother Francis the whole time, and I’ll be so quiet, you can just pretend you’re on a date with him!”

Crowley would never admit to gaping at the child at the last words that escaped this infernal child’s mouth, but anyone who saw it would say that that’s exactly what he did.

“Why would you think I want to go on a date with Az – with Brother Francis?”

The insufferable child actually rolled his eyes at that. “It’s obvious you like each other,” he said frankly. “He gives you tulips, and sometimes you look out the window when you know he’s working in the garden, and your face goes all—” He made a quite exaggerated impression of what could only be described as simpering, which Crowley definitely did not do. “—and when he talks about you sometimes, he gets this different little smile like he’s remembering something nice, and…”

“Alright, alright,” Crowley quickly shushed the boy as they drew near enough to be within Aziraphale’s range of hearing. Wouldn’t do to have the angel hear Warlock’s observations of why he thought they were in love – he would think the demon was filling the poor child’s ears with harmful nonsense again.

“I’ll take you to the zoo,” he promised, and when Warlock’s face lit up with excitement, he went on severely, “But only if you don’t tell Brother Francis anything you just told me. Keep it a secret, hm?”

“Now, what secrets could you possibly want to keep from me, Ms. Ashtoreth?” Aziraphale asked in his ridiculous accent as he heard the last bit of Crowley’s words.

“Warlock’s not telling,” Crowley said promptly, and Warlock nodded vigorously in agreement before wiggling to be let down. Before Aziraphale could press further, Crowley abruptly changed the subject. “When’s your next day off? Day after tomorrow, right? Excellent, we’re taking Warlock to the zoo, then.”

“We’re gonna see all the animals!” Warlock cheered, before going on his knees to be closer to a worm he found wiggling in the dirt. Crowley was disappointed that he wasn’t taking the initiative to slice it in pieces with a sharp rock as a young antichrist should, but perhaps that was because the gardener was right there. Harming the worm might make the angel cry, after all, and even Crowley didn’t want to see that.

Aziraphale’s eyebrows were currently raised very high on his face. Crowley wondered absently if the angel had intentionally made his eyebrows look like caterpillars, in some kind of homage to living creatures. It seemed like a thing the angel would do.

“Are you sure that’s allowed, Ms. Ashtoreth?” he asked carefully.

Crowley knew that Aziraphale was talking about their sides finding out and the wisdom in that, but he feigned ignorance on the matter and simply said, “The Dowlings will be out day after tomorrow, and there’s nothing wrong with Warlock’s nanny taking him out for the day. If you happen to be along, well it’s your day off and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Please, will you come, Brother Francis?” Warlock begged, looking up at the gardener beseechingly. Somehow, with the power that all children seemed to have to get filthy in just minutes, he already had dirt streaked across his cheek, lending to the whole innocent appeal. Crowley wondered if it was intentional, but he had also raised the boy long enough that he knew he got sticky and dirty with all manner of nonsense and couldn’t decide which option to chalk it up as.

Aziraphale was, of course, weaker than Nanny, and he agreed immediately to Warlock’s pleading. Crowley sniffed disdainfully, very carefully not thinking about how easy it had been for Warlock to convince him to go, either.

***

“She is quite a terrible mother,” Crowley mused that night as he sat in Aziraphale’s cottage at the back of the property. He was nursing a bottle of wine, though whether it was the second or the sixth he couldn’t remember anymore. Didn’t matter. He’d sober up before leaving so he wouldn’t be hungover for the rather taxing job of corralling a baby antichrist.

“Crowley, she is trying her best,” Aziraphale chided, but Crowley knew it was halfhearted at best, more out of a habit to argue with Crowley now than anything else.

“Except when she’s not,” Crowley countered. “She tells him things, promises him things, and then doesn’t follow through on them. What am I supposed to do here, angel? I can’t parent him.”

Aziraphale chuckled a bit. “No, certainly not. What’s a demon – or an angel, for that matter – supposed to do with a child?”

“Well, he’s only half human,” Crowley reminded him. “Other half is completely Satanic spawn. So maybe we wouldn’t screw it up completely.”

They were silent for a moment, staring at their bottle and glass respectively, and then they both looked up to meet each others’ eyes at the same time. It was a meaningful stare, one of suggestion, a what if?

A moment later, they both began laughing at the absurdity of it.

“As though we’d actually kidnap him,” Crowley chuckled, taking a swig off his bottle.

“Goodness, I’m an angel – angels don’t do these things,” Aziraphale chuckled, a trifle uneasily. “Kidnapping, honestly.”

***

“We should’ve kidnapped him years ago,” Crowley declared the next day as he patted a weeping Warlock’s back. “I don’t know what’s been keeping us, honestly. The Dowlings are clearly unfit…”

“Are you mad?” Aziraphale hissed in such a serpentine-like way that he could’ve been the one mistaken for the demon at that moment. “Don’t talk about these things in front of – of him!” he pointed his little shovel at Warlock, who was getting quite a bit of snot and tears on his nanny’s shoulder. “He’ll think we’re serious!”

“First of all, I am serious,” Crowley glared, partly because he wanted to impart the fact to Aziraphale that he was in fact serious, but also because he was resisting the urge to miracle the snot away. Honestly, this was his best blouse, and his shoulder was soaked enough that he felt it through to the skin. “Secondly, he’s crying loudly enough he probably can’t hear what we’re saying, anyway. Thirdly, he probably doesn’t even know what kidnapping means.”

“We can’t do things like this, Cr – Ashtoreth,” Aziraphale told him sternly. “And we certainly shouldn’t be talking about it, where anyone could hear us.”

“Think about it, angel,” Crowley said. “Don’t think of it as kidnapping the antichrist. Think of it as kidnapping a normal boy.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?!”

“A normal boy, who is neglected by his parents and feels unloved by both,” Crowley amended. “His father got home this evening, and Warlock wanted to show him the picture that he drew yesterday with you. You know what Thaddeus said? He said that he didn’t have time for little boys’ projects, and he was needed back at work quickly before shoving his son – his son – aside to get to the kitchen.”

“He shoved him,” Aziraphale repeated flatly, eyes sparking.

Sensing weakness, Crowley pressed, “Perhaps it was not meant to be painful physically, but now we have a crying little boy on our hands who just wants his parents to love him. We can do that ourselves!”

“Are you sure you love the boy, though?” Aziraphale asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “I thought demons weren’t capable of love.”

“And I thought angels were supposed to love and help everyone, regardless of their age or the size of their footprint in the world, and yet here we are,” Crowley said snidely, hardly noticing that he had inadvertently confirmed that he loved the little hellspawn. If it convinced the angel that kidnapping the little Antichrist was in fact the best option, he didn’t particularly care what he admitted to.

“This isn’t just a footprint though, Crowley – this is…” Aziraphale glanced at the boy, and then lowered his voice to a whisper so that Warlock couldn’t hear – “This is the antichrist. He won’t make a footprint; he’ll reduce the earth to mud.”

“If we leave him here, that’s certainly how it’s going to go,” Crowley agreed, continuing to pat the Dread Lord Junior on his back, an attempt to soothe. He never knew if he was doing this comforting thing correctly, but what he had deduced from the five years of raising the little brat, sometimes humans just needed to be held. Sometimes it worked, but sometimes – like now – they just kept crying.

Suddenly, said Lord of Darkness pulled back, and the angel and demon both silenced as the boy looked at Crowley through teary eyes that had suddenly become pleading and determined.

“Will you please, kidnap me?” he requested in the same tone of voice he had asked to go to the zoo the day before.

“Of course not, Warlock,” Aziraphale said immediately. “You are very safe here. The security is flawless.”

“Mommy and Daddy wouldn’t even care!” Warlock went on insistently, paying no heed to his nanny’s nonsense words. They made no sense, anyway.

“Of course they would, Warlock,” Crowley said immediately. “After they noticed you were gone, anyway.” They weren’t the most observant of parents, indeed.

“Cr – Ashtoreth, don’t say such things!” Aziraphale scolded. “Warlock, you can’t really want to never see your parents again, do you? They do love you, after all. In their own way.”

“Do not,” Warlock pouted, crossing his arms in front of him. Aziraphale appeared quite at a loss at what to say or how to try reassuring the brunette. Served him right – he was using faulty logic, anyway. Faulty because it was just wildly untrue and they all knew it.

“What did I tell you about lying, angel?” Crowley said with a raised eyebrow, first at Aziraphale and then at Warlock, still seated in his lap. “He can detect lies, anyway – he’s the Father of them.”

Warlock nodded emphatically, understanding enough from his nanny’s comments to know generally what they were talking about. “Daddy tells Mommy he loves her all the time, but he always leaves her alone. And he says he’ll play catch with me when he gets back from his trip, but then he shoves me away when I come to him with my baseball. And Mommy says she’s in love with Daddy, but she kisses Mr. Richardson when no one’s looking, and you’re only s’posed to kiss the lips of people you love. I know when people are lyin’ to me.”

“Be that as it may,” Aziraphale said in a slightly perturbed voice at the fact that the five-year-old was so caught up in the gossip of the house, though slightly altered to a child’s understanding, “We can’t just kidnap you, Warlock. It’s not right.”

“Nanny says that ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ don’t matter,” Warlock said, and looked at Crowley as though to test her on whether or not she would back him up or back up Brother Francis.

“He’s got us there,” Crowley said with a smirk. At Aziraphale’s flat look, his own expression became exasperated. “Oh, come on, angel! It’d be fun! I could replace him with a toad, and no one would even notice.”

“Yeah!” Warlock cheered, sensing weakness in the gardener. “And you an’ Nanny can be my new Mommy and Daddy, ‘cause mommies and daddies are s’posed to love each other so they love their kids more too, and I already love you guys, and you guys love me, and you love each other!”

Crowley and Aziraphale were both caught by a sudden coughing fit, and Warlock was curious to see the gardener’s normally ruddy cheeks flush even darker, and even Nanny’s cheeks pinked a bit. Adults were weird, he decided.

“Well, I think it’s just about your bed time,” Crowley said abruptly, rising to his feet with Warlock still on his hip. “You’ll need lots of energy to be able to go to the zoo tomorrow.”

“But Nanny,” Warlock whined, “I want you to kidnap me!”

“We’ll talk about it after the zoo trip, and not a moment before,” Crowley said strictly, ignoring the sudden sharp look that Aziraphale sent his way. “Remember that this is our secret though, alright? Don’t tell anyone what we’ve been talking about, or it’s a definite ‘no’ to the kidnapping.”

“Okay, Nanny,” Warlock said sullenly, leaning limply into the woman’s side, resting his head on her angular shoulder.

“It’s still a definite ‘no’,” Aziraphale muttered to himself, but smiled when Warlock waved farewell to him. He didn’t like the look in Crowley’s expression, though.

***

“Warlock, come see the lions!” Crowley called to the boy standing beside the gardener a few feet away. Warlock was licking at a popsicle in his hand that was somehow miraculously (heh) not melting, despite the hot August weather and the fact that he’d been holding it for ten minutes now. Aziraphale had a sugary-looking monstrosity of an ice cream cone, which he’d tried to convince Warlock to get too, but the boy had wanted a popsicle more.

“Yes, those ‘re your favorite, aren’t they?” Aziraphale cajoled the sullen child. He’d been in a mood ever since he got up that morning, and even said that he didn’t want to go to the zoo. For some reason though that Warlock could not understand, Nanny had insisted on their going anyway, saying that he would regret it if he didn’t go. Not in a threatening way of course, because while Nanny was known to make subtle threats to just about everyone else, he never did with him. Warlock thought she was weird, because he knew that she didn’t like people – especially lots of people all gathered together in one place, crying and carrying on and generally making lots of noise. She said it sounded like Hell, making Warlock wonder how Nanny knew that. (Because she was obviously alive, so she couldn’t go to Hell, at least not yet, though Warlock thought that maybe Nanny would like it there because it was dark and gloomy and she was generally a dark and gloomy person. He’d heard one of the cooks call her a “goth” before, which he didn’t know exactly what that meant but thought that it was a word that must fit Nanny perfectly, because it sounded right.)

“I don’t care ‘bout lions,” Warlock said with a frown, even as he followed the gardener over to where Nanny was standing in front of the lion enclosure.

“You can lie all you want to everyone else, but what did I say about lying to me?” Nanny said with an arched eyebrow.

“To not to.”

“That’s right, you impossible little fiend. Now come up here – I can lift you up so you can see them better.”

Although Warlock was excited to see a Real Live Lion, he still gave a deep, heaving sigh as though obeying his nanny was a great burden placed upon him, trudging forward to stand in front of her. She immediately lifted him up into the familiar place on her hip that he always sat at in this position, pointing a gloved hand across the embankment to the other side, where a male lion was sleeping beside its mate. As they watched, the male lion rolled onto its back, legs spreading like the oversized cat it really was.

“I think I’ll call him Sir Joystick,” Crowley said thoughtfully.

“Ashtoreth!”

“Lions aren’t like cars, Nanny – they don’t have joy sticks.”

“No, Warlock, you’re right – what was I thinking?” Nanny said, a laugh in her voice that Warlock didn’t understand. “Oh, calm down, Francis – he’s five. And am I wrong?”

Warlock didn’t really understand or particularly care what they were talking about, because his mind was on the fact that he had to go back home after the day was over, and have to go back home for many days after that because Nanny and Brother Francis for some reason refused to kidnap him. He wasn’t really excited to be at the zoo because of it, because he had hoped for a little bit that Nanny and Brother Francis would say yes, and now the hope wasn’t there anymore. They were going about everything like it was normal, and even though Nanny had said they could talk about it after the zoo trip, he knew enough to know that this “maybe” was almost definitely a “no.”

They stopped for lunch at a little cart selling corn dogs, and Warlock was gratified to see that Nanny remembered that he didn’t like ketchup and asked only for a strip of mustard on the food. He didn’t show his gratitude though, still upset with the two, and ate his corn dog in silence while Nanny and Brother Francis tried to draw him into conversation about the animals they had seen so far, eventually giving up and chatting with each other.

After lunch, they went to the monkey enclosures to see lots of different apes and chimpanzees. On the other side of the enclosure was a spot out in the grass where the gorillas could wander in the sun.

When they got outside, Nanny suddenly lifted him without warning, and though Warlock was startled because usually he was the one to ask to be picked up he still instinctively wrapped his legs around her hips to accommodate the usual position.

“Look at that one!” Nanny said, pointing at a random one in the distance that didn’t seem to be doing anything particularly special or different from the others, except that it was bigger than all of them. He didn’t really understand what was so exciting about that one. Or any of them, really.

Then Nanny pressed her lips close to Warlock’s ear, breath causing his hairs to move and slightly tickling him with the motion.

“Warlock,” Nanny said quietly, voice almost unheard in the sounds around them. “You’re not going home today, alright? Everything will be just fine.”

Warlock stared at Nanny when she pulled back a bit, not sure he understood correctly but hope blooming in his chest nonetheless. A moment later, he pressed his own lips to Nanny’s ear (the one with the cool snake tattoo next to it), because that’s how secrets were supposed to be told.

“Are you an’ Brother Francis gonna kidnap me?” he whispered loudly.

“I prefer to call it surprise adoption,” Nanny said smoothly with a wink he could see through the dark glasses.

Warlock turned that over in his head, and a moment later he positively beamed as he understood that he was correct. He looked over at Brother Francis, who was humming quietly to himself and glancing around casually – but maybe not so casually. Miraculously, no one else was around the fence that showed the gorillas across the grassy embankment. Warlock wondered if Nanny or Brother Francis was magic, to be able to make sure everyone left them alone.

“I can keep a secret,” Warlock said proudly. “I won’t tell anyone, ever.”

“Good,” Nanny said briskly in her usual no-nonsense tone, though Warlock thought her eyes maybe looked a little softer than normal. “Because we’re going to need your help with this, little hellspawn.”

Warlock didn’t know what kind of help Nanny and Brother Francis would need from him – they were adults, after all, and he was just a kid – but he was more than willing to do whatever his new mommy and daddy wanted of him.

The rest of the zoo trip was a lot more fun, too.

***

True to his word, Crowley replaced Warlock Dowling with a toad. He used a few miracles to change his appearance and make him able to grow with Warlock’s DNA, so he would appear to grow up totally normal, and Aziraphale contributed with his own miracles of giving him Warlock’s surface memories. Wouldn’t do to have a boy suddenly in the house with only the memories of a toad, after all. That might be too much for someone not to notice.

Crowley and Aziraphale quit their jobs in the same week, despite Harriet’s pleas that she would give both of them raises if they stayed on. The staff of the Dowling household were their usual gossipy selves, and drew the conclusion that the two of them had eloped. They largely ignored the toad-turned-five-year-old, as they always had, and the next nanny (because Harriet still wasn’t going to raise her son – he was much too young for her to relate to yet) didn’t care enough to notice that the boy was a bit odd and croaked when stressed or annoyed, or sometimes looked like he was hopping rather than walking. Rich people were eccentric, after all – no need to be alarmed.

The boy once known as Warlock Dowling became Warlock Crowley-Fell, though he wouldn’t realize for another few months where exactly his new parents had pulled the names from. He was a quite normal boy, aside from being lullabied to sleep with strange versions of “The Grand Old Duke of York” or being instructed to love spiders rather than shriek and squish them with the nearest shoe, as most were wont to do.

He lived out in the country, in a little town called Tadfield, because his parents always said that it was the “least likely place they would go looking for him”.

He wasn’t ever sure if they were talking about his old parents or someone else.

He was an odd boy, to be certain, but none of the town members blamed him. He would turn out odd, with parents like that. Not because they were gay, of course. But there was just something about that Mr. Crowley and Mr. Fell that was strange. A certain Arthur Young thought he might have heard the seven-year-old call his father (who looked vaguely familiar every time the man saw him, but he just couldn’t quite put his finger on it) “Nanny” once, which was quite odd, but he didn’t make a habit of judging other people and dismissed it. Besides, Warlock was such a nice boy – a bit of a brat sometimes but then so was his own son. They would certainly grow out of it, as most boys did.

It wasn’t as though either of them were the antichrist, after all.

Warlock was quite happy in this new life, too. He continued to enjoy digging around in the garden with Brother Francis – whom he had to remember to call “Pops” in front of other people – and took the news that Nanny was sometimes a man with the frank understanding that came from growing up around the unusual. Some things were just explained by the fact that “it’s Nanny”, and that was that.

On his eleventh birthday, Nanny – er, Dad, that is – and Pops seemed to be expecting something from him all day. They celebrated his birthday as usual, though they couldn’t help seeming a bit…on edge. Warlock dismissed it, because that was just his parents for you, always acting odd, and asked if he could go play with Adam and Them in the woods.

“Be back before dark,” Dad had called, glancing at Pops. “And if you see a dog, don’t name it!” Warlock sighed and rolled his eyes, hopping on his bike and riding away to meet with his friends.

A couple of hours later, he came back to the house, suspicions once again aroused that his dads were psychic, but not particularly good at it, because things always happened around him when they expected it to happen to him.

“Dad, Pops!” Warlock called as he stepped inside the house. The evening sun set everything inside the house in a soft yellow glow. It was familiarly calming – it felt like home.

“Did a dog come to you?” was the first thing that Dad demanded when he came into the living room, where Pops was reading a book in his recliner and the sun made it look like his head was surrounded by a halo.

“No,” Warlock huffed. “Mr. Young got Adam a dog, though. Well, he let him keep it, anyway. It was just running around in the forest.”

“Adam got a dog,” Dad repeated. Pops closed his book and blinked at Warlock in confusion, like things just weren’t quite computing in his head.

Warlock nodded impatiently. “Uh-huh. An’ it’s small enough that it’s not going to mess up their house, but he has to wash it first before it’s allowed in because it smells like poo. He named it Dog, though. That’s a boring name.”

Dad and Pops shared a very significant look with each other. Warlock rolled his eyes. They were always doing that, as though Warlock didn’t know that they were totally in love with each other, even though he’d never seen them kiss. Still, he knew when people were lying, and he knew that his parents loved each other.

“Warlock,” Dad said, turning his serpentine gaze to him. “We need to have a little talk.”

And then it all came out, that his parents were actually and angel and a demon (he really couldn’t even pretend to be surprised at that, because it made sense) and they had come to the Dowling house to raise him to stop Armageddon, which was the end of the world, which they had thought Warlock would start, but now it looked like maybe his friend Adam was the actual antichrist, and they would probably need his help to stop Armageddon anyway, and in the end he ended up being there on the American air base and did indeed help in stopping it, and when his dads were taken by Heaven and Hell to be put on trial he was safely ensconced in the Young household in a surprise sleepover to keep him safe and a secret from both sides, and Warlock thought it was a bit weird to know that one of his best friend’s parents were also his parents, but also not really his parents because Crowley and Aziraphale had raised him for much longer and he kept everything a secret from the Youngs, anyway, and when all was said and done he continued to grow up in Tadfield with an angel and a demon as his parents, and he may have finally (with the help of Them) gotten the two of them to officially get together, and a normal fairy tale book would call it a perfectly nice “Happily Ever After”.

But that’s another story.

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resplendentroses324 · 5 years

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Things I love and Appreciate™️ about Good Omens from both the book and show in no particular order:

- Crowley makes a point of saying he didn’t mean to fall, ergo he never meant to become a demon

-When he did fall it wasn’t falling it was a SAUNTER (vaguely downwards)

-David TenNANTS SAUNTERING

-Aziraphale shielding Crowley with his wing in the rain

-Crowley’s LOOKS™️ throughout history

-For some fucking amazing reason if Crowley leaves cds in his car for too long it turns into the Best of Queen

-Crowley trapped a demon in a cassette tape and considered leaving it in the car so it would turn into Queen

-Aziraphale being perceived as “gayer than a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide”

-The Earth being a Libra

-Crowley started the first conversation he and Zira ever had

-Crowley wanting to take Jesus to travel the world

-Crowley taking the stain out of Zira’s coat because he pouted at him

-Aziraphale lighting a cop’s ticket book on fire as he was writing Crowley a ticket

-CROWLEY BRINGING ZIRA’S DOVE BACK TO LIFE WHAT DEMON /DOES THAT/

-Uh......CROWLEY, just like, in general

-Crowley walking into a church even though it pains him to step on holy ground to save Zira from Nazis.

-One of the Nazis being Mark Gatiss who just magically appears as a background character in every british show

-After blowing up said Nazis and the whole church with it made sure that Zira’s books miraculously survived the explosion

-Aziraphale turning a gun into a water pistol because it was pointed at Crowley who wasn’t paying attention.

-Crowley being called a Flash Bastard.

-Crowley being asleep throughout the whole 19th century because he likes naps

-Golden Girls is one of Crowley’s favorite shows

-The part about Greasy Johnson and how they drop the bomb on you that he’s Baby B in a FOOTNOTE and the only reason you put two and two together is because of the comment about tropical fish

-Crowley ensuring Hamlet would be popular because Aziraphale pouted at him and asked nicely

-Aziraphale just wanted to make Anathema’s bike nicer for her

-How lovingly Crowley calls Zira ‘Angel’ when you’d expect him to say it sarcastically.

-Aziraphale thinking he ought to tell Crowley about a situation and promptly realizing that he wanted to tell Crowley something before he told Heaven about it

-Aziraphale knowing something was wrong just because of the way Crowley answered the phone

-Crowley legitimately tries to model himself as a type of person and makes decisions in decorating based on what kind of human he think’s he’d be. Aka Crowley has a humansona

-Crowley’s plants are the most beautiful in London because he yells at them

-Aziraphale is the only angel that knows how to dance

-MICHAEL SHEEN’S ADORABLE SMILE HE HAS WHEN DANCING IN THE SCENE WHERE THEY EXPLAIN THAT ZIRA DANCES.

-The TERRIBLE 70s montage dance that Crowley is doing in the same scene to explain how demons dance but fucking awfully

-The guy that thought Crowley and Zira were breaking up on the street and gave Zira his sympathies

-The first swear Aziraphale had said in more than 6000 years being ‘bugger’ and then immediately five minutes later says fuck

-Somebody to Love playing over Crowley searching for Zira in the burning shop

-Aziraphale in Paris about to be executed nevermind that he’s an angel and perfectly capable of rescuing himself waits for Crowley to come rescue him and acts relieved when HE REALLY COULD HAVE LEFT AT ANY TIME

-“Don’t look so disappointed. Perhaps one day we could...we could go on a picnic, dine at the Ritz”

-“I’ll give you a lift. Anywhere you want to go”

-YOU GO TO /FAST/ FOR ME CROWLEY

-“Because, underneath it all, Crowley was an optimist.”

-Crowley thinking Zira to be dead and instead of drinking himself silly decides to still try and save the world

-Crowley saving the world simply because his husband threatens to not talk to him ever again

-Aziraphale and Crowley getting HeavenandHell.exe to stop working simply by asking if they were sure the Great Plan was the same thing as the Ineffable Plan.

-Any instance where Crowley is just bullshitting someone ie: the phone hoax

-‘God does not play games with His loyal servants’ “whooo-ee, where have you /been/“

-ZIRA AND CROWLEY HOLDING HANDS TO FACE SATAN

-“It’s all worked out for the best though...just imagine how awful it might have been if we had been at all competent....” “......eeeeeuh....point taken” DUMBASSES

-Crowley ‘has good cheekbones’ and ‘can do really weird things with his tongue’

-“SO LONG SUCKAAAAA” *procedes to do really weird snake tongue hiss*

-Crowley ALSO doesn’t blink much and hisses when he’s frustrated. SNAKE. MAN.

-THE SWAP. How well they know each other to be able fucking fool their bosses of more than 6000 years

-How you can tell the Swap was made between the bus scene and the next day because of “Zira”’s face and attitude when he went into the shop and “Crowley”s giddy smile at the sight of the Bentley

-Zira hailing a cab when he was pretending to be Crowley instead of driving the Bentley because he probably respects the car and its owner too much to take the driver’s seat

-Both of them asking about the shop/car because they’re switched and want to know the state of their beloved things and both of them assuring their husband that their precious car and shop were ok

-Crowley knowing the shop well enough to notice there were books that weren’t there before

-How much fun Zira appeared to be having pretending to be Crowley like ‘hee hee im a demon!’ meanwhile Crowley is using his time as Zira to spit hell fire at Gabriel for being mean to his husband.

-That heartwarming toast to the world and the LOVE in Aziraphale’s eyes.

-demon wings are the same as angel wings except demons groom theirs better

-The strawberry popsicle and the vanilla ice cream cone

-Them dining at the Ritz while a Nightengale sings in Berkley square

-THE DELETED SCENE FROM THE SCRIPT BOOK WHERE CROWLEY BRINGS ZIRA FLOWERS AND CHOCOLATES TO COMMEMORATE THE OPENING OF HIS SHOP

-THE SAME SCENE CONTINUED ON TO CROWLEY SCARING GABRIEL INTO LETTING ZIRA STAY ON EARTH BECAUSE ZIRAS THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN “THWART HIS DEMONIC PLANS”

-Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett never thinking this absolute masterpiece would ever be popular in any way, and then it WAS

-Michael Sheen and David Tennant openly saying that it’s a love story and talking about the romance and discussing how the characters love each other and how they express it and how Michael makes a point of saying how he stares lovingly at Crowley in scenes.

-How I very rarely obsess over something enough to post so much of it at once and declare my blog dedicated to it and how the post I made right before this one was a declaration that this is now a Good Omens blog

-The fact that I’ve edited this post at least eight times because the ineffable husbands tag keeps reminding me of more good shit™️

#good omens #aziraphale #anthony j crowley #neil gaiman #terry pratchett #ineffable husbands

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they-handed-me-the-moon · 5 years

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Okay, so I went to see a screening of the first episode of Good Omens last night and Neil Gaiman was there to answer some questions, and it was. Very amazing to be there.

Unfortunately the interviewer wasn’t great, but there were still fantastic moments and lots of details I hadn’t heard before, so I’ve put the highlights of the conversation with Gaiman under the cut. Major disclaimer here, though: I didn’t record any of the conversation and didn’t take notes during the panel. I wrote down all the interesting bits I could remember immediately after, but none of this is Gaiman’s own phrasing unless I specify otherwise, and its entirely possible that I’ve accidentally fudged some of the details.

There’s here that I’d consider a spoiler, but in case anyone is being particularly careful I’ve separated anything that could be seen as sort of vaguely spoiler-y.

Anyhow, here goes:

Okay, my absolute favorite story that I hadn’t heard before was when Gaiman was talking about the audition process. Apparently when they started searching, all the audition tapes were horribly, horribly, horribly (I clearly remember his triple emphasis here) wrong, but he couldn’t pinpoint why. And then ... Nina Sosanya auditioned for the part of Mary Loquacious. Now, apparently Good Omens has been her absolute favorite book since she was quite young, and she rereads it every year. And according to Gaimen, she just *got it* in a way no one else had. Apparently everyone else, knowing that they were auditioning for a role in a comedic show, was pitching themselves as comic actors. What Nina got, with her understanding of the book, was that the humor doesn’t come from the characters being funny in a making-jokes-and-pulling-faces sort of way. The comedy comes from the circumstances, from the storytelling (whether that’s narration or editing, camera angles, etc), and from characters being completely ridiculous with utter sincerity. Nina, he said, played the role straight and trusted that the comedy would be constructed through and around that. And seeing her act made it click in his mind, to the point that he then told casting directors to look for applicants who played their roles like Nina played hers. So basically what I’m saying is that Nina Sosanya personally saved Good Omens with the power of good acting and being a fan. (I’m tagging @shaxpere just for this, because I feel like you’ll have the appropriate level of appreciation).

Continuing the theme of comic acting not being right for Good Omens, he mentioned that he and Terry were approached through the years by multiple comedic duos who tried to pitch themselves as Aziraphale and Crowley, and they always turned them down without a thought.

I think he also said something about taking the characters seriously even as they and their circumstances are ridiculous, because they aren’t just trying to make the audience laugh, they want them to be invested in the characters. I may be getting things a bit mixed here; but he definitely said something along the lines of wanting the audience to be genuinely emotionally invested in these characters.

He then went on to say that instead of going the comedic duo route, they instead went and got the “premier Welsh actor” (that is one phrase I’m quite sure he used) of his generation and the “premier Scottish actor” of his generation.

From there he went into talking about Aziraphale and Crowley. Regarding their on-screen chemistry, he said: “the chemistry wasn’t instant. During the read-through it was a little awkward at first; they were tripping over each other a bit. But after only about twenty minutes in they started to find their characters and how they exist in relation to each other, and it was like watching them learn to dance.” (Again, I’m very much paraphrasing, but he definitely used the learning to dance phrase).

Next he talked about going out for a meal with some big deal writer fellow (I *think* it was Richard Curtis, the script writer of Love Actually) and Richard asked: “okay, so David and Michael have never acted together, but now that you’ve worked with them you can tell me: which one is actually the better actor?” And gosh of everything that was said that night I wish I could have an exact recording of Gaiman’s answer to that question, because it’s not exactly new, but I’ve heard it more from Tennant and Sheen than Gaiman directly, and the way he said it just made me very happy. But the gist of it was that he genuinely cannot answer that, because when it comes to this show you can’t separate them enough to pit them against one another. He compared them to a film or tv duo, I’ve forgotten who, but one of those pairs that are just impossible to think of apart from one another; it’s never just ‘x’ or just ‘y’, it’s always ‘x and y’. That’s what Tennant and Sheen are as Aziraphale and Crowley, he said. He said they make each other better when they’re acting together, and that, essentially, it’s less like they’re not doing two individual acting jobs but rather are creating a single thing together.

He talked a little more specifically about Sheen’s process of finding his character, and said that for Sheen his breakthrough with Aziraphale was approaching it from the perspective of Aziraphale being an angel and therefore a being of love. Sheen has said that before, but its worth adding than Gaimen then went on to say: “He loves Crowley, he loves books, he loves food, he loves wine, he just loves things”—and I may have misremembered that list a bit, but Crowley was %100 the first thing on it.

Oh, and fun fact: I’ve heard several people talk about how they love the radio adaptation of Good Omens but really feel that it’s missing something without the narrator. Turns out you’re not the only ones: apparently it was listening to the radio drama that convinced Gaiman that there had to be a the narrator in the show.

I imagine he’s said this before, but I haven’t heard it: apparently Good Omens was born in part from Gaimen reading some of Douglas Adams’s work, thinking, “I could write that sort of humor,” and then sitting down and writing that first portion of Good Omens that he sent to Terry Pratchett.

Speaking of Pratchett he mentioned how he really made this show for him several times, and that’s not new I just :,)

He talked about two deleted scenes I hadn’t heard about! They were initially supposed to be the scenes introducing Aziraphale and Crowley. I sort of missed the context of Crowley’s scene, but I think it was him messing with the phone lines? Which he apparently did by, um, recruiting a bunch of rats. Which implies that, a). He can talk with rats? Like there’s a bit of a conversation in the scene that they seem to understand. And b). he can either control rats or has some sort of business arrangement with them. Personally I lean towards the latter. So yeah. I don’t have any particular thoughts about this but it does raise Questions.

Aziraphales’s scene was him on the phone doing something book related (I believe he was negotiating a deal/trying to find a rare book, possibly Agnes Nutter’s prophecies) while doing helpful little miracles like keeping a pram from tipping over or something. Ultimately I don’t really miss either of those scenes, especially since the Crowley one had a bit of dialogue I’m happy to be without, but the Aziraphale scene in particular sounds solid, especially if he’s being snippy on the phone while absently doing pleasant little miracles.

Kinda-sorta-vaguely-spoilery-stuff:

The panel began with the interviewer saying something about how closely the first episode sticks to the book (that’s it that’s the whole spoiler; like I said these aren’t really spoilers) to which Gaiman said something like, “Well, I guess that’s what happens when the author writes the show and is also the showrunner who decides whether to approve the script.”

The first few minutes of the show are a tribute to Douglas Adams, and specifically to the film or tv adaptation (I forget which) of Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy. I’m not going to explain what Gaiman meant by that because a). you can piece it together when you watch, and b). I’ve never seen either adaptation so I’m not actually sure what he meant.

#okay that's it!#there were some other things i really enjoyed #but this is already very long #and the rest was either general stuff about writing and stories #or things i've already heard elsewhere #that he didn't add anything new to #anyway i'm not gonna tag this #because i just remembered he's here on tumblr #and while i can't imagine he'd read this if he came across it #i really don't want to tempt fate with the chance #of him reading me extensively misquoting him

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shen-gong-oops · 4 years

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2019 in review

I was tagged by @kindclaws for a year in review! Also, this made me realize how little I have been reading recently D:

top 5 films

How To Train Your Dragon 3. I saw this in theaters twice and cried my eyes out both times. I'm so mad it lost at the Oscars to the film that should not be named.

Booksmart. It's a great movie. That's it. I recommend everyone watch it… just not with your mom like I did. It's a bit awkward.

Someone Great. This was adorable and sad at the same time.

The Laundromat. I really enjoyed the style of this film! Antonio Banderas and Gary Oldman, with a German accent, narrating a biographical comedy explaining the intricacies of money laundering? Brilliant.

Avengers: Endgame... but only until the fight ends. Anything after that doesn't exist. I screamed and threw my popcorn when Cap used Mjolnir. This girl has been waiting so long for him to wield Mjolnir and she finally got it! And my heart swelled when he told the Avengers to assemble.

I didn’t see 1917 and Parasite until after the new year. Both are so good!!!

top 5 tv shows

I haven't watched a lot of shows that came out in 2019 so this was hard. Most of the shows I watched this year were either shows that have been on/off the air for a while and I only just started watching it (ie: Good Girls or Life Unexpected) or I was watching the most recent season of a show (ie: the 100 or Brooklyn Nine-Nine)

Good Omens. I love this show. It's weird and I like weird. And the relationship between Crowley and Aziraphale is beautifully done.

The Mandalorian. I relate to the excessive amounts of sighing he does.

Fruits Basket. This was one of my favorite mangas growing up and I'm so excited they decided to reboot the anime. This time we're getting the whole series!

Tacoma FD... I'm a sucker for Broken Lizard, there I said it.

Whiskey Cavalier was cute but they already canceled the show.

top 5 songs

Apparently more than half of the songs I thought of came out in 2018...

I Don't Care by Ed Sheeran and Justin Bieber

Here With Me by Marshmello ft. Chvrches

Adore You by Harry Styles

Nice to Meet You by Niall Horan

Can I say the HTTYD 3 score? John Powell is amazing

top 5 books

I didn't read as much as I should have this year and none were published in 2019...

The Crazy, Rich Asians trilogy

Stardust by Neil Gaiman

Dreamland by Sam Quinones (I learned to run a drug cartel)

5 positive or happy things that happened this year

Last January I was accepted into grad school and I should be graduating this semester!

The same weekend Beliza announced their marriage, I got to stand beside one of my best friends as she married the love of her life. Plus I got to yell at the groomsman I walked down the aisle with cause he was an asshole who almost left the ceremony for a booty call so that was fun. (And as we were making the menus for the reception, the bride jokingly said they had to cancel the wedding because obviously Beliza's wedding was more important.)

The night before the wedding, my grandpa had a stroke after working in the backyard and survived. He's 81 mind you and should not have been doing what he was doing. My mom and my grandma wanted no one to tell me until after the wedding and I was in the hospital room first thing the next morning. I sat there with him and he happily showed me the progress he had made so far. How he could move the cube they gave him, and how far he could walk. Since the stroke, he has been on a diet (and my grandma as well), they go on walks, and they try to be healthier people.

Someone I love dearly got their one year chip. Let me tell you I cried, he cried, we all cried. It was beautiful and I have never been more proud of anyone.

They dismantled my unit at work but they relocated us to a different unit. While I hate what I’m doing, at least I’m still getting a paycheck so there’s the positive.

tagging a few people. If you don’t want to do this please just ignore me: @wolfheartgirl, @important-metaphors @thelittlefanpire, @she-who-the-river-could-not-hold , @dylanobrienisbatman

#personal #tag meme

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r1ku · 5 years

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@notchy tagged me! 🤗

🎂: May 28 !

Zodiac: Gemini ♊

Height: 5'3

Last Song I listened to: Gurenge - LiSA

I woke up thinking of this song today lol, because I'm still shocked Brendan Urie from Panic! At the Disco sang to it and watches the show lmao

Hobbies: talking to gaming pals on discord, playing mobile games, working on that webtoon recommendation document on Google doc, playing toontown rewritten, day dreaming, always typing down ideas and dreams to write or draw ONE DAY, in Google notes on my phone.

Favorite color: Purple ! 💜

Favorite Book: Coraline by Neil Gaiman

Tis the only book I have read a few times for sure. You know, I often thought I'd love to be a bookworm and wholeheartedly have several favorite books, but I'm not. I like the idea of it tho, I haven't read books in a long time. I mainly read manga and webtoons.

Last film I watched: The Grand Budapest Hotel by Wes Anderson

My friend and I have a lot of movies to check out, mainly horror flicks of korean or japanese films or martial arts films to watch. But that day he dropped this film to watch and I was able to and had never watched before actually. And we enjoyed it, it's very whimsical and comical.

I almost debated putting the last episode of kanata no astra, since it was like an hour long finale and One can watched several hours of 30 min episodes and not think of it as a movie, but when u think of an episode longer than 23 or 27 minutes, it FEELS like a movie lol even if its not 2 hours long. But nah lol

Dream Job: I haven't really, really thought about it. I've seen a few inspirational, thought provoking posts and tweet threads.

About how for some people you shouldn't make your passion your job, cuz you might end up hating your passion.

Or the one post that said they admired the character, Garry Gergich from Parks and Rec, for choosing a job that's decent pay and few but full hours, that allows him to spend time with his family.

Or the one tweet that talked about you should have several passions to look forward to like boxing or some other activity so you can spread out your feels and not be in a pit of negativity.

That said, I find myself to be a jack of all trades kind of person, I adapt well and if taught well, learn quickly to do just about anything right.

If anything, I will not think of the chains of reality and honestly answer this question focusing on dream part of dream job.

And thats to be a CEO of my own company that I made and create an animatiom company that can revolutionize the animation industry and crack the hammer of justice in various places that mistreat and mismanage and poorly pay hardworking animators and give them the lifestyle they deserve and lift people up and support them and not become a gate keeper. Da Drem *drops mic*

Meaning behind my url: I've had various urls, this url came from my bestfriend cat, who wanted the namine url, when i got her into kingdom hearts, but it's in limbo hell, I remember she waited 9 months for its release but its still like unavailable to obtain, idk now tho, that was a year ago.

I forgot what my url was before, maybe it was hong-seol and I finally, after 8 years, moved on from the spiel I had in firmly loving the character Sul, I still and always will even tho I dislike the comic's last season and how heavily the author suddenly gave us flashbacks all at once.

I told cat that KINGDOM HEARTS IS LIFE, I LOVE RIKU SO MUCH and she said "oh i was typing around and found r1ku is available" and i was like WHAT and i typed it and surely enough, it was available to my great surprise. And I am forever grateful for her and her mind. I ain't letting this go, as such its a personal blog and riku appreciation blog, I'll reblog all that I see and like.

I recently updated the mobile look, desktop look is perfect so i wont change that, but i had destiny islands gif from khnyctophiliac and that riku icon, that I have sources for in my about l sadly dont have time to update my about pages.

But I updated the icon to this destiny islands trio that has amano's kh3 manga art since it has riku in it and i love trios, from the khinsider website that posted icons ro choose from.

The bg is Phoenix Ikki from the Netflix Saint Seiya adaptation's ending, I love how dramatic that shot was with the song. I wish it could be longer, but I have no idea how people edit out credits for gif segments. I only used a quick gif making website that requires the video and can make cuts and speeds.

As for my sideblog, pink4walls, I am still, to this day enamored by f(x)'s - 4walls and especially their pink outfits in their live performance. This blog ia dedicated to hopefully making a thorough navigation system to find specific posts that inspire me to create. A creativity blog, if you will with things that caught my eye and references I want to use.

Thank you Notchy! A well deserved break from routine, helped me try to get more reblogs put there from my enormous 22k drafts, and gives people an update of sorts of me.

I tag @antheiafemme @ughliegirl @alfiethesnip

You may if you choose to, and its okay if you don't ! But first three mutuals to tag off the top of my head.

#stef talks #about me #relatable

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mysticpenguincreation · 5 years

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So I’ve watched (partially) leaked episodes of American Gods and there is no way I’m not gonna post about it.

Clear and explicit spoilers are under the cut, so read away at your own risk.

YOU’VE BEEN WARNED.

This is going to be mainly about the one and only, my love #1 Mad Sweeney.

Before I get down to business, I have to make some points clear.

1. In my opinion, AG is one of the BEST shows to grace our screens in many many long years, because:

It’s based on Neil Gaiman novel.

Storytelling is compelling.

Have you seen the editing? The lights and colors? The camera work?! This shit is AMAZING. There are few things I like more about the shows than good editing and visual aesthetics. And this right here? It’s pure pleasure.

The casting and acting is mind-blowing.

2. I know better than fixate on only one character, because the whole plot, the story in general is so much more than fate of one character (even if they’re the lead).

With that being stated in advance, I would like to clarify that AG is a complex story created through crossing paths of many different characters. It’s not about Mr. Wednesday, it’s not even about Shadow Moon and it’s sure as hell is not about Mad Sweeney.

But the latest was the reason why I was renewing AG and his tags this whole fucking week. So when THREE episodes (INCLUDED the one dedicated to Sweeney) were leaked in my country at three in the morning, I, tired from work and lack of sleep, naturally decided to give middle finger to my master’s thesis and watch them.

Unfortunately, I am no god and have basic human needs, so I’ve only watched parts regarding Sweeney, but I’m sure as hell watching whole episodes later.

And finally to the points:

Episode 2x05.

Sweeney thinking at first that Laura was an angel made me laugh so hard.

She was so fucking jealous of him, when he was flirting with this blonde girl! And then he looked right at Laura!!! He knew what he was doing and it was working!

He was so fucking jealous when this voodoo couple started to get sexy with Laura! Oh how he didn’t like it!

Let me tell you, this scene made me hot all over. He’s savage, huge and built like a brick wall. I’d climb this fine piece of fairy-godlike king any day any time.

At first I was disappointed because ‘THE HELL! So it was JUST the Horde and Sweeney’s deepest desires?! They’re gonna go and fuck different people’. I’d ideally prefer them to fuck each other, at the lack of better option this happening in an orgy, but to become swingers without actually having sex even once? C’mon guys! But my fears were in vain, eventually everything happened the way it should have happened.

Laura is so smol and Sweeney is HUGE. They’re outing my (enormous) size kink / height/built difference kink.

This scene was what I was anticipating since midseason 1 and I FINALLY GOT IT GODDAMIT!

First few seconds of ‘the morning after’ were just too damn hilarious.

Sweeney is not good at dealing with his shit, but Laura confirmed that she is way way worse. She didn’t know how to deal with him, this situation and her (or his for this matter) feelings anymore. So she fled and hurt my ginger giant bb in the process.

Episode 2x06.

There is no Laura or Sweeney in this one, so I skipped through it in like 5 min and understood next to nothing.

HOWEVER! This ep. featured my beautiful love #2 Tech Boy (a sight for sore eyes). In one of his recent interviews Bruce said that Tech Boy is a God of Technology, but technology can be many things. Like for our ancestors a sharp stone fixated on the end of the stick was already a technology. So maybe Tech Boy’s purpose is to renovate and update himself in accordance with the change of times. Maybe ithat’s what let him pass as the “New God”, when in reality he might be one of the oldest of the “Old Gods”. It’s an interesting theory and a glimpse of it is shown in ep. 6 through Tech Boy and Wednesday’s (!!!) common history, but in order to understand it I had to watch it, and now I have to prioritize and simply don’t have time for that. Though, my beautiful Tech Boy, I’m glad that you can show up at the most of unexpected of times and give me feels, when there’s not even one Sweeney within a mile.

Episode 2x07.

WHERE TO BEGIN!

In order to write this AND get some sleep I had to skip some parts of Sweeney’s story too, so please forgive me for any misunderstandings.

Of course I read all the theories based on what was in the book and how it correlated with the story in the show now. I was impatiently waiting and dreading this episode at the same time.

This ep. Sweeney was all about destruction and madness. More so than usual. He was unhinged and I loved him about it.

So much self-loathing. It was so brilliant I couldn’t watch it.

The fact that Sweeney couldn’t remember his own story was just plainly terrifying. When people loose faith in you and forget you it’s one thing. But when you loose faith in yourself so much that you can’t remember who you are anymore is depressing and legitimately scary.

He must have been freaking out of his fucking mind cause of constantly seeing Banshees. He might have told Shadow not to interfere, but he instantly knew that this time these women were crying for him.

I was happy to see that once, long long time ago he was loved. He knew what true happiness was. Even if we had to watch him fall so far (NOT HIS FAULT BY THE WAY).

I loved every single verbal drop about Sweeney caring for (possibility being nuts deep in love with) Laura:

How he couldn’t get it up for hot redheaded voodoo queen until she called him out on it.

How he was broken and laughing madly under this bridge about Laura leaving him AGAIN.

I hate Wednesday guts, but he saw right through Sweeney with this one eye of his. ‘She fucked you, broke your heart and left you’. Cruel, but hit too close to home.

Conversation with Salim. Sweeney: ‘It’s his fight, not yours. You don’t have to die. Just go and leave it all behind’. Salim: ‘No, I’m staying with him’. ‘Why?’ ‘I guess it’s what love is’. ‘Would he have done the same for you if the roles were reversed? What if someone ordered him to kill you? Would he have done that [while loving you]?’ ‘What do you mean?’ ‘Ugh, nothing. Forget it’. Like come on!!! This conversation takes place RIGHT AFTER Wednesday orders Sweeney to “finish his job” and kill Laura for good. Sweeney and Salim are talking about love and loved ones and what they would/wouldn’t have done for them! Sweeney’s implying Laura and love in one sentence! It’s the most explicit articulate closest to confession thing that we got from Sweeney aside from multiple defensive Fuck you’s said to different people and longing glances when she isn’t looking.

Little side note: Salim might be the sweetest person in the world but I wanted to punch him in the face so hard, when he said that it’s pointless to explain the concept of love to someone who’s never felt it. I know that Sweeney was never nice to him, but it’s rich coming from human to go and assume something about a creature that’s walked this Earth for centuries. You don’t know him well enough. So, please, kindly shut up.

(8) The bloodbath scene from times when Sweeney was a god once was just poetic cinema. I was SO looking forward to it when the trailer came out. Barbaric, savage, courageous, spear-throwing, ripping-out-throats-with-bare-teeth, crushing-skulls-with-bare-hands. Just the way I like them👌

(9) Sweeney with ass long red mane dressed in next to nothing but blue paint is the image that burnt into my mind and the reason I was living for.

(10) They fucking did it. They killed him. THEY BROKE ME.

Regarding Sweeney’s death I have QUITE A LOT OF THINGS TO SAY:

I knew it was coming but still hoped they wouldn’t go through with it. As much as it hurts, I respect this decision. Sometimes you have to do what you have to do and cut the cord. Sweeney’s death was in the book. It’s what was necessary for the story to move forward (see point 2 at the beginning of the post). It’s better this way than for his character to be dragged around the story just for fan service (as much as it pains me to admit it, BECAUSE I WANT THIS FAN SERVICE GODDAMIT!).

As far as I know in the book Shadow was indirectly involved in Sweeney’s death. It was honestly the redhead’s fault only. The way he went out was pathetic, so I’m glad that they changed it according with the development of tv character.

Shadow. You fucking gave your word. Not. To. Interfere. Fine, I get it, you’re Wednesday’s man, you have to protect him (even after Sweeney reveled the whole truth, seriously, Shadow?!), BUT DON’T GO POKE AT PEOPLE WITH A GIGANTIC POINTY STICK IF YOU DON’T KNOW HOW TO ISE IT!!! I know it was an accident, he didn’t truly MEAN it, but maybe it even makes it worse.

This ‘I’m sorry’, I can’t even discuss it. Sorry doesn’t fucking cut it, Shadow!!!

I know that people say that Shadow’s speech at Sweeney’s wake is a beautiful part of the book, but with the way things turned out in the show, I don’t think that Shadow deserves to make this speech.

Sweeney, my bb went out like a fucking champ. Ruining old fart’s plans and taking the spear somewhere he can never reach it anymore. My hero ❤️ I hope Wednesday didn’t foresee it and it wasn’t another grand part of his plans. I want Sweeney to fuck him up good. He died because he didn’t want to be Wednesday’s bitch and I wouldn’t want him to be that especially in his death.

I wish Laura could see it with her own eyes. The last big FUCK YOU from Mad Sweeney.

In conclusion:

Mad Sweeney was barely on Old Gods’ side, I bet he would have gone minding his own business if it wasn’t for Wednesday’s debt.

With Sweeney gone now, fuck the Old Gods, I’m going to the New Gods’ side.

But at the same time Tech Boy is “deleted” or “fired” or whatever.

So basically now, I don’t really give a shit who wins now and who loses. They can kill each other until no one’s left, for all I care.

AG is still great and moving forward.

I’m still interested in the story, but I can’t bring myself to be invested anymore.

SIDE NOTES:

I know better than to hope, but I need a reaction out of Laura regarding Sweeney’s death.

It’ll probably never happen, but I hope Laura will crush Shadow’s nuts.

And spears Mr. Wednesday.

I wonder how Laura’s undead state will be affected now with Sweeney and his horde and his magic gone. Will his lucky coin work the same?

Laura is capable of surviving and protecting herself. She needs no one to do that for her. But Sweeney was ready to run to her, do anything for her as soon as she snapped her fingers. How much will it affect her? Will she appreciate him now?

I might have had some other notes, but I’ve tried for 2,5 hours to carefully and logically arrange this post without insulting any character TOO MUCH and now my brain’s exploding.

Please, feel free to talk to me about the FEELS, because I’m heartbroken and don’t know how to deal with it.

#american gods #mad sweeney #buile suibhne #the leprechaun #tech boy #spoiler

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