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lunaticsandidiots · 3 years ago

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little red box [pt.3 of Fennel Fields Forever]

part 1 | part 2

read on ao3

synopsis: You've always been pretty good at keeping your cards close to your chest. Now your poker face? That's another story.

pairing: adrian chase/gender neutral reader

word count: 4.6k (it just keeps getting longer. lord have mercy on yall for chapter 4)

warnings: explicit language, implied sexual content, canon-typical violence, fluff, mutual pining, slow burn, idiots to lovers

a/n: TEE HEE IT'S CHAPTER 3! honest to god, it was really tough trying to decide whether to relent and give yall the sauce now, or set everything up just a little more and make the finale just that tiny bit more delectable. you'll just have to read on to see what i decided on! and thank yall again for all the love on fennel fields, this fic has truly become my baby and i know i'm gonna feel empty as hell when it's finished lmao.

“And that’s the ’office’” Leota sighed as she sat down at her desk, clapping her hands against her thighs in conclusion, “You can sit with me till you get the hang of things.”

“Thank you.” you uttered with a polite smile, assuming the seat at the desk next to her after she pushed it towards you. Leota was definitely the most welcoming towards you, Economos following closely behind, and you were very grateful for their generous guidance as you tried to get caught up with the chaos you’d found yourself in the midst of.

Adrian watched from his desk on the other side of the office, hiding behind his Count Crowley comic book. At first, he was really reading it, he was very invested in a tense standoff between the main protagonist and a werewolf. But the second he sensed your presence, he assumed the position he always did when you were near - hide and stare. Adrian never found the right words to describe how he felt, he just liked the way that being around you made him feel, and knew he wanted to keep feeling that way whenever possible.

It soon began to dawn on you that you didn’t feel too dissimilar, though your reaction to the addictive feeling was vastly different from Adrian’s, in that you wanted absolutely nothing to do with it. You hated that you felt giddy when he was in the room. You loathed that you felt sick and tired and empty when he left. You’d felt this way a few times before. Enough times to know that this feeling only served as a harbinger of doom.

“You seem nervous, what’s up?” Leota asked, snapping you out of your internal pity-party. You quickly scrambled to fabricate a believable cover-up story for your sombre demeanour.

“I just don’t know if I’m cut out for this,” you deceived, though your answer wasn’t entirely false. You could see Adrian eavesdropping from the other side of the room, his glasses perched over the top of his comic, and you tried to bury yourself a little deeper in your chair as you felt your skin grow warm.

“You’re seriously overestimating what I can do. I just got real lucky with those guys in the alley last night, that’s all.”

“Murn wouldn’t have asked you to join us if he didn’t think you could handle it. He might be a little intimidating, but he’s got a knack for seeing people’s potential and helping them realise it.” Leota reassured you, curling her lips inwards as she smiled.

“You shouldn’t be nervous, you fuckin’ obliterated those dudes last night!” Chris interrupted yet again, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. You jumped in fright and turned to face him.

“Jesus christ,” you exhaled, holding your hand over your racing heart, “You sure do make a habit of sneaking up on people, huh?”

Chris just laughed in response, shaking his head as he continued his ‘pep talk’.

“You know, if you’re nervous, why don’t we go shoot some rounds? Nothing lets out the tension quite like gratuitous violence”

Adrian’s head immediately perked up at the mention of violence. He slammed down his comic in excitement, grabbing the attention of everyone else and turning their heads towards him.

“Did someone say gratuitous violence?”

You sighed a faint chuckle. You were beyond overwhelmed with your current situation for a ridiculous number of reasons, and your usual forms of stress relief were to take yourself to the boxing ring, or take it out on your lounge room wall. So ’fuck it’, you thought, pushing yourself back up to stand. Everyone’s heads spun back around at the squeak of your chair.

“I’ll go get my knives.”

Chris drove the van further and further away from the heart of the city, humming along nonchalantly to the music playing through the tinny speakers as you and Adrian sat silently in the back. The moment the street lights were replaced with nothing but trees was the moment you started to feel antsy. Where the hell were they taking you?

Adrian watched you longingly from the other side of the van as you wiped your sweaty hands against your jeans, wishing he had the ability to know what to say to you. Your head lifted from it’s lull as you heard the asphalt transition to dirt beneath the tires, your brow creasing in concern. Seriously, where the fuck were they taking you?

In an attempt to quell your nerves, you did the only thing you knew how to do in these situations - crack jokes.

“Y’know,” your voice cracked as you broke the silence with a nervous chuckle, “If I didn’t know you any better, I’d think you were taking me some place quiet to kill me.”

Adrian’s face immediately broke out into a smile, so thankful and so relieved to have an opening to talk to you. So thankful in fact, that he jumped to speak before he had a chance to think.

“Well why else would we take you to the middle of the woods?” he laughed darkly, his head wobbling back and forth with the movement of the van on the harsh road. Adrian grew panicked at the sight of your brow furrowing further and your lips parting slightly in concern, and he rushed to clarify himself as calmly as he could.

“I-I’m joking. It was a joke” he laughed nervously. Relief flooded his system as he watched you roll your eyes, your face softening into an exasperated smile.

“Someone’s been working on their poker face,” you commended, “For the first time ever, you really had me fooled for a second”. You shook your head and laughed as you saw his posture straighten in pride, you couldn’t help but admire how he looked in his costume. He looked different. More confident.

Eventually, the van pulled up at a clearing in the woods, and you jumped out after Adrian to be faced with a slew of targets, cans, bottles and… was that a blender?... Various household items displaced on tree stumps and pedestals, the forest floor littered with broken glass and debris. It was a makeshift shooting range. They were taking you to a shooting range.

You felt more at home there than in the office by a country mile, assumptively setting your knives up on a barrel situated near a target not too dissimilar from the one you had at home.

Chris locked the van and headed towards the two of you. He chuckled as he spotted Adrian standing a few feet away, shamelessly gawking at you as you laid out your weapons, and quickly jogged over to him to pry further.

“Down that bad, huh?” he scoffed, prompting Adrian to turn his head in shock.

“Wh-What? Down bad? Me? Wh-Pfffft-huh” Adrian snorted, instantly giving himself away. Chris ‘comfortingly’ clapped his large hand over Adrian’s shoulder.

“There’s no shame in love, Adrian…” Chris confided. Adrian let out a groan of discomfort as he straightened his gaze to watch you once more. With a small throwing knife in your hand, you elegantly flicked your wrist as you let it go, and the three of you watched as it wedged itself securely in the dead-centre of the bullseye.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck” Adrian drawled, feeling his oesophagus tighten in arousal at your prowess. Chris watched on, just as impressed, and clapped his hand down on Adrian’s shoulder once more to reinforce his point.

“You gotta lock that shit down, man, ASAP”

“How?” Adrian asked, his eyes refusing to look away from you as you set yourself up with another knife.

“Fuckin’, talking to them would be a good start! Instead of just creeping around like a creepy… Creep?” Chris advised sternly, “Look, because I’m such a nice guy, I’ll even be your wingman if you need it.”

Adrian opened his mouth to ask Chris what to say, before you piped up from your spot by the barrel, loading a small handgun.

“If I’m gonna be out in the field, someone better each me how to fire one of these fuckin’ things properly!” you shouted, just loud enough for them to hear you properly.

Adrian went to speak once again, this time getting interrupted by Chris, who hastily pushed him in your direction.

“Go, man! Go!”

Adrian walked in the direction of the push until he found himself next to the barrel, transfixed by your close proximity. ‘Say something, Adrian,’ he chastised himself, ‘Say something! Now!’

“What about all those?” he muttered, pointing at your knives splayed out on the top of the barrel.

“They’re good for a lot of things, but I don’t wanna be caught with my head up my ass bringing a knife to a gunfight,” you explained, “Now show me how to hold it properly so I look like I know what I’m doing.”

Adrian couldn’t do anything but chuckle. Over the past 24 hours, he’d felt so uneasy whenever he watched you, perturbed by your uncharacteristic placidness, and he felt beyond relieved to see your sharp wit slowly return to it’s normal, blighting state.

Wordlessly preparing his own gun, he stood beside you as he guided you through each step of the process of holding and firing a pistol securely. As you followed along, your subconscious was enjoying the marvel of it all. Never had you seen him quite so relaxed or confident.

Watching Adrian in his element for the first time was a double edged sword. On the plus side, you finally got to meet a new side of him. You liked the goofy, clumsy, stammering bus-boy Adrian plenty, but it was so refreshing to see him feeling so bold and self-assured. On the down side, it was vehemently fueling that little nagging flame in the back of your mind, the one that made your stomach flip and your knees wobble in his presence, making it harder and harder to ignore.

You aimed your pistol and fired again, gnarling as you watched it clip the very edge of the target. You just couldn’t seem to land a clean shot. Adrian watched closely as you fired the gun and could immediately identify what was throwing you off.

“It’s the recoil,” he explained, “you’re curling your thumbs so when you shoot, the recoil’s shifting your aim too much.”

“Wh-” you huffed, looking down at your grip to try and figure out what the hell he meant, to no avail, “Literally what are you talking about?”

Without thinking, Adrian walked over to you to demonstrate what he meant, all too familiar with the exact frustration you were experiencing. He stood behind you in a wide stance, reaching his arms around either side of you to grab your thumbs. He straightened them out, then placed one over the other so your grip now wrapped around the back of the gun more securely.

“So now when the gun recoils, it’s gonna shift way less in your hands so you can shoot way straighter” he explained close to your ear, finally turning to look at you. That was when he noticed just how close you were.

On the other side of the interaction, you too had turned to face him, and felt your lungs expel every last molecule of oxygen as you noticed how close he was to you. You felt incredibly sheepish. Internally, you weren’t even kicking yourself anymore. You’d already beat the shit out of them and locked them in a chokehold, waiting for the imaginary referee to confirm you were out for the count. But you just couldn’t pull away.

If you could keep feeling like this, you’d never need to roll another joint again. Up close, you could finally appreciate just how beautiful he was. You could see the whispers of the dimples hiding in his cheeks, you could see the sun-bleached tips of his eyelashes as they framed his green eyes like a portrait in the Louvre. You desperately fought off the urge to look at his lips. You’d already given yourself away enough with your longing gaze, and you knew if you looked at them now, you’d never be able to stop thinking about them until you did something about it.

Adrian ogled you with a stupefied expression, desperately trying and hopelessly failing to process the way you were looking at him. Reading in between the lines was not his forte, but your doe-eyed expression and your wandering eyes and the fact that you’d yet to shake off his embrace like you normally would had to mean something, right?

“Awwwh!” Chris barged in, again, “It’s just like that horny pottery scene in ghost! But instead of clay it’s a pistol… and neither of you are dead… wait, does that mean I’m Whoopi Goldberg?”

Chris’ interruption knocked the sense back into you, quickly ripping your hands out of Adrian’s grip and harshly shrugging his body off yours. ‘Why the fuck did I let myself do that?’ you chastised inwardly, gritting your teeth to try and push through your sudden and overwhelming embarrassment. You could hear Adrian inhale, presumably to say something. Maybe to make a joke of it all, maybe to try and get you back in his arms. By this point however, you were far too mortified to want to find out.

Assuming the grip he had just taught you, you raised your gun, taking a short second to breathe deeply, and unloaded the rest of the clip into the target.

You quickly strode over to the barrel and collected your knives, stalked up to the other two, silently shoved the gun into Adrian’s chest, and then made a hasty bee line for the van, not bothering for a second to turn around and see how you did.

Chris stared at the target in astonishment. There were a few stray bullet holes scattered around the outer rings, but you’d shot through the bullseye almost completely, leaving a big, gaping hole through the centre.

“Holy shit!” Chris laughed, thoroughly impressed with your skill. He felt a warm pressure push against his body and looked down to see Adrian shoving the gun into his chest, before stomping off in the direction of the van as well. Chris grabbed the firearm before it could drop to the ground and followed the two of you, completely unaware he’d spoiled the moment.

You curled even further inwards over the next few days, hoping and praying that if you just avoided looking at Adrian for long enough, the spell you were under would finally let up and you could get back to being your normal, derisive self again. To your dismay, even his presence in the room and the sound of his nasally voice still made your head spin. It was torture, and what’s worse is that you had no idea how to stop it.

Meanwhile, Adrian was completely bewildered at why you’d flipped on him like that. All the books he read and all the movies he watched and all of his friends… well… Chris, had all told him that you get closer to the love interest, you have the defining, lovestruck staring-contest moment, then you kiss, and then it’s happily ever after. But you just shoved a gun in his chest and walked off. He’d never read about that part, or seen it in a movie, and he would definitely remember if Chris had told him about it.

Finally, the time came for you to go out in the field and put everything you’d been practicing into place. Murn briefed everyone in the office that morning, though you’d only caught about half of what he was saying over the thundering of your heart. Adrenaline was coursing through your veins - both at the prospect of real life, head on danger, and the fact that you may have to interact with Adrian with no way out and no excuse to run further away from your feelings.

“Okay. So we have zero idea of what the fuck is actually in there,” Harcourt announced, the rest of you circling around her to listen as she stood against the side of the van, “It could be totally barren, it could be swarming with butterflies. All we know is that the box is somewhere inside. Hopefully”

You’d caught just enough of what Murn said that morning to know what box she was referring to. According to his sources, there was a small, red lock box hidden inside the building you’d parked in front of, containing evidence. Evidence of what, you weren’t quite sure, your ears started rumbling well before Murn divulged those details.

“Hopefully?” Chris squawked at Harcourt, his arms folded over his chest. You felt yourself growing anxious at her words. What if the building was filled with more of those alleyway goons? You were lucky to take on 3, let alone hundreds. Harcourt ignored Chris’ comment completely, and turned to face Economos who was tapping away at his tablet doing god knows what.

“Economos, you’re on tech in the van,” she turned to Leyota, “Adebayo and Smith, you’ll take the front with me,” she turned to you, “and you two will take the back.”

Harcourt quickly turned on her heel and made her way to the front of the entrance as you were left to realise exactly what she’d just said. ‘You two’. You and Adrian. Together. Alone. You shot a panicked glance in Harcourt's direction, your face quickly dropping into one of pure shock as she turned back around to throw you an oddly kind, knowing wink before rounding the corner. She knew.

You had no time to ruminate on the discovery, however, your thoughts being rudely interrupted by the obnoxious revving of a chainsaw. Your gaze followed the sound until you found it’s source - Vigilante. He jumped out of the van, mask on with chainsaw in hand. You could hear a muffled ‘Eh?’ as he motioned towards the ridiculous ‘weapon’ in his hand, and once again, all you could do in your frenzied state was deflect.

“If you bring that thing, I’m just gonna keep ignoring you.” you sniped, turning tail and walking towards the back entrance. Vigilante wasted no time in setting down the chainsaw and running after you. This was the most you’d said to him in days, so by that point, he’d do anything he had to in order to keep you talking.

Once inside, the two of you found yourselves walking down the long corridor of a warehouse-like building with brick walls and impossibly high ceilings, lined with dozens of mobile shelves. The energy was awkward, to say the least. You were cripplingly aware of the volume of your breathing, and just how loudly your footsteps echoed on the concrete flooring. Breathing and footsteps, however, were the only things to focus on besides the elephant in the room, and you weren’t about to start acknowledging that any time soon.

Vigilante, however, wanted to address it as soon as he possibly could.

“So you were ignoring me.” he pried, vexingly twisting his body back and forth with his hands clasped behind his back.

“I never said that.” you denied, craning your neck to peer between each shelf, partially to keep watch, but mostly to avoid his red-tinted gaze.

“I may be dumb, but I’m not an idiot,” he declared,

“Plus Harcourt gaslights me all the time so I've gotten really good at picking up on it now.”

“I wasn’t ignoring you,” you sighed, finally starting to crack under the weight of your guilt. The sound of his voice was the nail in the coffin, and your avoidant resolve began to give in,

“I was just being… Cautious…”

“Cautious of what? Of me?” Vigilante queried, comically holding his hand to his chest, “You can’t be scared of me, you’ve seen me in that stupid bus boy hat!”

You bit your lip to stifle a genuine, amused chuckle. It didn’t take you long to realise that your nerves had significantly settled, and that all it took to calm them was to talk to him again. Your forbearing sense of dread was soon to chastise you for this however, and you quickly returned to a quiet state of abstention.

“Hey,” Vigilante jested, poking you in the arm with a gloved finger, “Hey cautious of what?”, he pried, “Cautious of whaaaaaat?”, his finger continuing it’s assault on your arm, “Cautious of whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?”

You span around, finally having enough of his prodding, and gave him the answer he was so desperately seeking

“Look, when I get close to people, really bad shit starts to happen. I’m already violently outside of my comfort zone, and I don’t really wanna find out what happens if I keep pushing my luck, okay?” you spat, turning back around as you continued to trail the corridor. Vigilante followed a few steps behind you this time, his brow was heavily creased in conflict behind his red visor as he weighed up whether he should continue the conversation or drop it.

Though it felt like the most pressing matter in the room at the time, both of your priorities were quickly rearranged as you spotted movement up ahead. You had no time to think however, as Vigilante instinctively pulled you out of sight into a narrow gap between two shelves. His left arm firmly wrapped itself around your torso to pull you in, as the right flew up to cover your mouth with the same, gloved hand that was jovially testing your limits only moments before.

Both of you watched the hallway in fear, eyes wide and alert and trained on the thin strip of visibility that your location offered. You could feel Vigilante’s body pressed up against your own as it shook. You were so full of adrenaline that all shame went out the window as you thanked the universe for the comfort that his body heat provided. If this were under any other circumstance, you’d drop dead before you admitted it, but in that moment, you were frazzled enough to internally divulge that you’d happily have him keep you there like that, in his arms, pressed up against him forever.

Every square inch of Vigilante’s brain that wasn’t focussed on scanning for danger, was honed in on just how close you were. He was sure you could feel his heart hammering away in his chest, even through his thick neoprene suit and chest-plate. He swallowed thickly and with difficulty, as thoughts of all kind raced around his head at a neck-breaking pace, and he shamefully had to start thinking about the most boring, bleak, uninteresting things he could in order to avoid another situation.

You exclaimed a loud, mollified sigh against his hand as the ‘threat’ finally caught up to the two of you. A roomba. It was a fucking roomba. Your body had been thrown into true fight or flight mode, you’d never feared for your life so intensely before, and all thanks was due to a god damned motherfucking robot vacuum.

Vigilante slowly removed his hand from your mouth and reluctantly let go of you, though he smirked under his mask as you noticed you were in no hurry to push him away or free yourself from his grip like you did only days ago.

“Well you’re certainly not in a rush to leave, then, huh?” he teased. You could hear his smarmy expression from under the mask and turned on your spot to face him. The position you found yourselves in wasn’t too different from the other day either, and you found yourself stumbling over your words, feeling exposed and abashed.

“Wh- I’m- Y- Shut up, what are you- Shut up!”

“Ya know, If I didn’t know you any better, it’d seem like you almost…” Vigilante trailed off, using your own words to taunt you. You gasped as you felt his arm quickly snake around you, jerking you towards him so your bodies were pressed flush against each other. You could see his eyes squinting at you from behind his visor as you listened on, astounded.

“Almost liked it.”

You were stunned. Shocked. Flabbergasted. You’d never known he had the capability to be so smooth. Part of you felt so childlike and ignorant, so stupid to let yourself get caught off guard like this. But the other part, the now louder part, the part that was making your mouth dry and your chest tighten and your thighs quake and your whole body burn so deliciously, just couldn’t help but take a bite.

“Y’know,” you posed, your hands creeping up to rest your fingers on the edge of his cowl, “You sure are a whole lot more confident in that get up, huh?”

“It’s the power of the mask, baby” Vigilante disported. You were so close to him, you could see him shoot you a sly wink under the red visor and you swore your heart stopped right then and there. Your self control was long forgotten, shoved deep down in the abyss that you once locked your desire in. You leered at him flagrantly, allowing your eyes to glance down at where his mouth was hiding behind the nylon barrier.

The chest plates of Vigilante’s suit were heaving up and down with desire as his lean arm held you so tightly it threatened to start shaking. His head continued to slowly gravitate closer and closer towards yours, he didn’t stop for a second to think about the logistics of kissing in a mask. All he knew, and all he cared about, was that he needed to kiss you, and that he needed to do it now.

For a moment, you thought that the rapture had started, that the brimstone lid of hell had cracked open and the Nephilim had started to wail and lament and scream. And from those fiery depths rose… Harcourt?

“We found the box. Rendezvous at the van.”

There were no fallen angels, or second comings of christ, or divine interventions to account for the earth shattering disquietude. Economos had just forgotten to adjust the volume on the comms. That was the ungodly screech that sent you crashing back down to earth.

You felt like you’d just awoken from a coma, or finally jolted awake from one of those falling dreams, right before you hit the ground. One of your hands curled up into a fist, clutching Vigilante’s squeaky, itchy suit within it. Your head dipped as you swallowed, trying to figure out what the fuck to do now your body had been completely depleted of adrenaline.

Your head was throbbing, your knees ached, your mouth was somehow still bone dry as your throat was congested with saliva. You couldn’t think anymore. All you had left were your instincts. Your desire, which moments ago was unashamedly on display, was slowly slinking back into that abyss, your abnegation resuming its dutiful guard.

Your feet silently carried you out from between the shelves, back down the corridor and all the way to the lonely passenger seat of the van, selfishly utilising Economos as a human shield to hide from your shame.

Adrian pulled his mask off as he watched you leave. By the time he opened his mouth to speak, you were long out of earshot. Comically, his arm hooked the air in front of him, just how he had grabbed you, and even more comically, he chastely kissed the air where your lips once were. He sighed as his arms dropped to his sides and he shook his head, defeatedly muttering a simple, disappointed,

”Fuck.”

✦　₊　˚　♡ .　₊ ✦ .˚　♡ .　₊ ✦ . ₊　˚　♡ .　₊ ✦ .　˚　♡ .　₊ ✦

vigilante taglist: @redpool @lothiriel9 @darththrog @kingdindjarin @trash--blog @bbwithaknife @nottobegaybutmen @torchbearerkyle @666abby6666 @allukanezuko @fanofverymanythings @hypnoash @chelseaxteens @ellabellabus07

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mordigen · 3 years ago

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Unpopular opinion: Christians are not witches

I said it. Fight me.

There has been a trend that has been growing ever more problematic recently: overbearing, hyper-zealous, hyper-vigilant "acceptance" This means the pagan community is an absolute free-for all, and you are not allowed to so much as even feign the possibility that you do not agree with absolutely 100% of everything, lest you be named a gatekeeping, ignorant bigot.

Whether you like it or not - there ARE paths out there that have specific rules...regulations...stipulations...tenets - whatever the hell you want to call or classify them. End. Period. There's no other colour that comes in - that's it. Sorry for you, but they DO exist. In fact, there are many of them.

If you do not follow those rules, tenets, etc..., then you are not of that path. Point. Blank. And there is nothing wrong with that - it simply means that you are of some other path. That's it! That's all that means! It may be *nearly* identical to the path in question - but it is not, hence the 'nearly'.

If you happen to be a part of one of these paths, there is absolutely nothing wrong with saying so. If someone claims to be a part of one of these paths, but are absolutely, blatantly not - there is nothing wrong with saying that, and explaining why that is. Some people just honestly don't know there is a difference, or that these certain prerequisites are indeed a definitive factor - so they learn something, they broaden their horizons. Everyone seems to be all about educating themselves about being sensitive to other cultures and customs - except the pagan community, apparently, because this mentality does not translate across that pagan/witch line. Instead of taking it as a learning experience, you are immediately pounced on with notions of 'there are no rules!' 'you can't tell someone what to do on their own path!' Or, simply, the name calling. Well yes, while all of that is true - it still remains that how ever you want to practice or whatever you personally decide to do, may just simply not be what you are claiming, or calling it. It may just be semantics - but semantics matter when dealing with nuance. And paganism is extremely nuanced.

You can call a tomato an orange all you want to - but that thing will never be an orange, no matter how much you believe in it. And people are not wrong for informing you that you may have the wrong name, that is in fact, a tomato. If you go on deciding to call it an orange, you can do that - but that is willful ignorance. So, in your fight to be unapologetically accepting of every ridiculous notion, you are perpetuating willful ignorance - whilst being directly in opposition of your goal and being, *GASP*, unaccepting to those who follow a path where distinction and definition matters. You are completely invalidating those people's paths and beliefs while trying to defend another's (another who may, in fact, actually be wrong) and actively using their path & beliefs as the very reason to berate and ostracize them. Pretty fantastically hypocritical of you. Now...on to the second problem. I do not, at all, in any form, believe in "ritual magick" - as perpetuated by Aleister Crowley hardons. And no, that is not a knock on Crowley, just the idiot followers that don't understand half of what he taught and latch onto the superficial.

When you look at the origins and make up of magical beliefs, and magic itself as a separate entity - no matter which particular branch - they were all created by religion. They all have roots in highly spiritual cultures and customs. So, I absolutely do not believe for one second that you can believe in magic without SOME form of religion - whatever one you adhere to is your choice, but you cannot have the first without the latter. You cannot. Even if you claim that you have no religion, or spiritual faith, your practices absolutely do. You are calling on elements and agencies that absolutely have divine ties and connections one way or another. Oh, how many atheists I see calling on the seals of Arch Angels.... are you fucking shittin me? Really?? So let's bring it all together now - with the fact that many faiths DO have prerequisites, AND the fact that magic is religious/spiritual -- Christians are not, and cannot be witches or pagans. They are mutually exclusive. Not only because so many various paths have such prerequisites, and very define religious/spiritual beliefs that are contradictory to others - but simply because Christianity DOES, very much, have very clear and stringently defined Do's & Don'ts, and obviously the religious aspect itself clashes with the religious beliefs of others. Their religious beliefs clash with people who believe in their same god - so how could they not with those who believe in other gods?? Considering this, no other path would even need such stipulations themselves for them to be mutually exclusive, as Christianity already covers that issue so completely, but the fact that so many pagan paths do only exacerbates an already existing problem. That being said - that does not mean you cannot believe in the Christian 'god', by whatever name you know him by - or that you cannot believe in Jesus, and also be a witch or pagan. In fact the latter has an even bigger argument for believing in both, as paganism, generically, in itself is polytheistic, so it is very fitting to simply have the Christian god and Jesus amongst the many deities being worshipped. But those two things alone is not what makes Christianity. A good start, yes, but that is not all it takes - in fact, there are many that are shunned, excommunicated, banned, condemned and moreso whilst having those very two qualifying factors. You can find this in *every single* sect of Christianity, so...the proof is in the pudding, as they say, that it is much more than simply believing in 'God' and Jesus that makes a 'Christian'. And if you take that to heart and follow all those rules - you cannot be a witch or pagan, many times over, as you would be in direct opposition, or violation, of a number of their teachings - both on the aspect of simple 'rules', but also on a much deeper spiritual level of the entire foundation of their faith. Cannot serve two masters, and all that... If you do not follow those rules, then sure, you could be a witch or a pagan - but then you cannot be a Christian. That is just the facts.

Many people like to argue the use of magic and mysticism in the bible - but the issue is what parts of the bible they are found, and all the amendments of the further books. Again, what really carves out being a Christian vs. any of the other sects of Abrahamic beliefs. As, news flash - there is far more than just Christianity. And some of them, do, in fact, do hand in hand with magic. The Kabbalah is an astounding example of that - and, in fact, where a lot of the so called *ahem* 'non'-religious 'ritual magick' comes from. In this same vein, I would like to note that I have never had any issue or seen conflict with the Hebrew or Jewish take on shamans, mystics and witches, as they really do go hand in hand - They have their own very in depth, detailed, spiritual and sentimental form of mysticism that was a natural progression from pre-Abrahamic religions and culture, and grew into their teachings and belief system, so it does not go against their core beliefs the same way it very stringently does in Christian theology. Considering their ethnical histories and cultural heritage - this is a brilliant example of the natural evolution and progression of faiths - not simply ripped from the hands of the brutally oppressed and rewritten as a mockery to wipe out the preexisting notion of faiths -- as the Church has a history of doing. The Book of Enoch is another shining example of Biblical magic, or Angelic magic. But, this also also turns my point into a self fulfilling prophecy, as in the fact that it is accepted amongst all denominations as heresy, and it is taught that these magics - though they do, in fact, exist, were for the angels and completely forbidden from mankind. So, thusly, if you are a follower of Enoch, you are not a 'Christian', by name and membership, as you are outright going against it's teachings. You are a heretic, a blasphemer. Perhaps you may be one of the many other forms of the Christian god's followers - but not a Christian, as being Christian denotes a very specific set of beliefs and tenets - end of story. Magic, and paganism, is in direct conflict with those teachings, and therefore, cannot coexist.

On top of the logic - there is also the emotional issue. Christianity has a long history of abuse towards various pagan, tribal and indigenous faiths, while stealing our beliefs as their own, and demonizing those they couldn't successfully acclimate into theirs. To now be expected to be OK with this faith, yet again, latching on to *our* sacred rites and practices as being a part of their own is a hard pill to swallow at best, a slap in the face to most, and flat out perpetuating trauma at worst. Once upon a time, people sought out these very same communities and groups within their pagan circles as an escape, a safe space, and a shield and guardian against the Christian onslaught, torment, oppression, or just exhaustion - and now, we must not only tolerate them invading our private spaces, but must now welcome them with open arms and expected to be happy about it? Forgive me if I don't sympathize....

If we are going to now be forced into being shoulder to shoulder with them, the very least you can offer us is neutrality. You can be accepting of all and still be neutral grounds - not taking any one side anywhere, all you have to do is be respectful to each other. Disagreement is not disrespectful. Could someone who disagrees with a certain viewpoint *become* disrespectful? Sure, of course they could. But simply the act of disagreement is nothing hateful or hurtful in any way shape or form - in fact, good discourse is how progress is made. So we need to remain neutral grounds and normalize the acceptance of different viewpoints - we need to recognize and accept that, yes, there are paths out there that do have specific requirements, expectations and limits - there are paths that are going to disagree, or just flat out not believe in something. Instead of name calling, when someone of those paths decides to speak up and enlighten and elaborate on information that may be inaccurately described or depicted, you need to LISTEN and learn, and not just bludgeon them with presumptive judgement. You also need to accept that there are many, various different closed practices out there - beyond Native American & Voodoo practices (as those seem to be the only ones the pagan community recognizes) and if someone of those closed faiths tell you - no, you are not xy or z, that is also not being judgmental or hateful or hurtful - that simply is. ....a very important side note here is that acknowledging closed practices is also not a carte blanche for screaming about cultural appropriation. Please shut the fuck up about cultural appropriation. Not being of a specific faith is not equivalent to cultural appropriation - Telling someone "no, you're not xyz" is very different from telling someone "no, you can't practice xyz" (looking at you smudge-Nazis) You can enjoy, practice, learn or celebrate anything you want of any faith you want while not actually being apart of it - that's the beauty of sharing and learning. And I think that is where all the trouble boils down from:

Yes, you can do whatever you want and can create whatever path you want for yourself...just don't misrepresent it, don't call it something it is not, and don't deny those who are more educated & experienced in that particular department. We get enough of that from outsiders to start doing it to each other.

#madd mordi #mordi #mordigen #mordigen malone #pagan #paganism #pagan problems #mordiwrites #pagan pride #christian witches #christians are not witches

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freelanceimmortals · 2 years ago

Text

q&a time

thx @bugsprouts 4 all the questions :))

who would take place of warlock and adam?

i’m thinkin darla and that one bowl cut kid who goes “this is what i think YOU ARE!!!” can be warlock and adam. who’s who?? dunno. gimme yr thoughts!!!

i personally think bowl cut would be really easy to convert into adam (antichrist-like powers he’s struggling to control, etc etc) but he lacks the charisma. i would prefer the geek as adam. perhaps i….. combine em?!!?1

again!! tell me yr thoughts!!!!

is satan (good omens) satan (sam and max) or someone else (soda poppers, s3 elder gods)?

well goddamn it now i really freakin want the soda poppers to be included in hell. yknow what. i’ll make em the guys with the clipboards that get obliterated by hastur

as for satan (go), he’s satan (snm) lolol

and i will DEFINITELY find a way to incorporate charlie hotep (one of the horsemen?)

can dog be john the alligator?

that is hilarious so yes, of course. had no idea what to do with dog anyway

is sybil anathema?

i love that idea!!! the only question is….. does that make lincoln newton? i like the idea of superball as newt…. tell. me. yr. thoughts!!!!

does sam fear disobeying heaven?

in the snm universe, sam and max absolutely do not fear death. they have each other!! they are static for the most part. there is little character development. they are already best pals (husbands). they have nothing to lose. they have no safety net other than each other

in the go universe, az and crowley are used to relying on heaven and hell, but they slowly rebel. it’s a dangerous game learning to depend on each other, but they don’t mind bc they go into it already willing to jump in front of a train 4 each other

snm are, again. more static, they have always depended on each other. az and crowley are more dynamic, they realize they trust each other more than they trust their respective sides

so there are 4 ways we could go abt recreating the go development: sam is terrified of heaven, max is terrified of hell, or both (neither if u don’t want character development and you want yr au more sam-and-max-static-y), or, finally…. they’re scared for each other

here’s the au characters reacting to their surroundings in a nutshell:

max is kind of….. unique (psychotic). he can deal w anything. he is unflinching. he doesn’t like hell, but he grew up w it, and therefore isn’t terribly scared. he’s watched the ppl around him suffer. he knows the consequences of lying abt doing his work. he doesn’t really care all that much abt what hell threatens to do to him

sam cares a little more abt making appearances, abt looking good in front of his bosses. but he isn’t terribly scared bc if all he gets is strongly-worded letters for slacking off when the hellish alternative is death…. he’s fine

but as they look out 4 each other more and more, sam n max find that they are more scared for the other person than they are 4 themselves, and THAT is their motivation!!

(it also makes their lil switcheroo for the holy water/hellfire death sentence scenes incredibly satisfying. they’re facing their fears!!!)

again. lemme. know. yr thoughts.

CYA :)

#snmgo #snmgo au #au #sam and max #good omens #q&a #ask #crossover

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touchstarvedsam · 4 years ago

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I was really gonna ignore that "superior"natural thing but I saw that they seem to have some talented artists. So I thought maybe they are doing something interesting (even if it's destiel) so I checked out their Google doc and omg I'm HOWLING! Eileen calls Sam moosie, Cas calls Dean squirrel. Dean calls Cas kitten, Sam calls Eileen otter. They say it's just a incollection of ideas that might not make it into the project, but you get a sense of what you're dealing with there. And this is from1/?

A brief perusal to see how much attention Sam gets compared to Dean & Cas (a word search gave 27/87/100 results for each respectively, so not too much attention to Sam. But sure, Sam is the favorite character of some of their writers). I'm sure a deeper reading will unearth more (like, Dean saying you are home to Cas, who says we're not at the bunker, Dean replies but you are home. That sounds like something Dean would say. And Dean wishes a tulpa into existence 'cause he misses Cas too much)2/?

They say they want to eliminate plot holes but it seems what's a plot hole depends on whether it serves their ship: purgatory stays (we know they love that arc) even if it makes no sense for Crowley and Cas to go through that much in S6 when apparently there are many ways in and out. Cas, the guy who failed at almost everything he's done, is a "master strategist". Every other retcon of later seasons stays as long as it serves ship purposes. Sam gets his fair share of attention but Dean is the3/?

One who teaches Cas about being human including the textures of food (Sam and Cas pbj moment erasure) and Cas should be the one to teach Jack about his powers (no mention of Sam and Jack's relationship). Other ooc things: Cas rides a bike and when Dean asks says it reminds him of flying. After Cain, Dean takes Cas to the farm for bees (?). Cas and Dean snuggle. Knowing Cas is alive gives demon Dean strength to fight to be cured? Dean speaks enochian to Cas. Cas making a mixtape for Dean. 4/?

Cas being in regarding Dean. "Baby jack walking around in cas’s trench coat going “I’m an angel”." Home alone type ep with Jack. Dean kissing cas's forehead when he's dead in 13.01. Crowley is Jack's godfather and gets him a hellhound pet. Sam has a pet fish? Dean sings you're my sunshine to Cas as he sleeps. "Uncle Gabe". Apparently John dropped Sam and Dean off at Bobby's all the time? I don't think this is canon? Keep 15.18 but change 19&20 (of course). There's no drama or angst like 5/?

Kevin's death or Crowley's death or anything that might add tension to the story. Unless of course it serves the ship so plenty of trauma for Cas including darkness (from the empty) and sharp objects (from Naomi). A small mention of Sam's trauma with Lucifer, thank God, but it's interesting that they have so little Sam. They can say they'll flesh out more arcs for Sam but it's clear he's not a priority from how he's not present where he should be. For example, Dean will explain everything 6/?

To Mary and break her out of her brainwashing. But where's Sam? She's his mother too. Other than Eileen Sam's most meaningful relationship seems to be with his pet fish (still confused about that). Even if this project gets better in the future, which I doubt, it's clear what the direction here is. It baffles me that they think this is superior to the show we have, as problematic as the show is. I wish them best of luck but I don't have any high hopes for this. Thanks for the laughs though. 7/7

Sorry for that long ass rant in your inbox. It's in the middle of the night but I'm cackling after reading their doc and I had to share it with someone. I thought you might find it amusing as well. Hopefully all my asks go through. On the one hand, I feel bad hating on a fan project. But the way they've positioned it ("superior"), the blatant disrespect to Sam, and all the shit their side has pulled since the finale (and long before that) has really irked me. Again, sorry.

I just- this whole thing was a whirlwind of nonsense, it took me a whole week to process it. I don’t even know where to start here, or if I want to just yeet my laptop out my bedroom window into the snow. They really consider their ideas superior to the original show? More like Inferiornatural, to be honest. Superinferiornatural? They can’t even seem to characterize them correctly, let alone come up with a decent plotline or idea.

So we’ll start with the nicknames, since that is where you started. The whole thing is painfully out of character, but the worst (and funniest) of them all is Dean calling Cas “kitten,” I might actually laugh myself into an early grave with that one. Dean gives nicknames to shorten people’s names (besides Sam; Sammy is the only person who gets an extended nickname). He’s not going to give someone a longer nickname than the original nickname he uses for them! And Cas wouldn’t actually give nicknames, especially not giving Dean the nickname Crowley gave him??? Otter?! Moosie?! W H A T. Can we move on from grade school kiddie crush nicknames?

I’m currently manifesting Dean saying “kitten” in his gruff voice with that lip curl he does sometimes and I’m cracking up about it. Thanks for the amusement, heIIers.

Of course Sam would only be mentioned 27 times to Cas’ 100 because Sam means nothing to them. He’s only ever either been in their way or a cheerleader for that horribly characterized ship of theirs. I just love how, in order to make DestieI, they have to butcher the characters so irreparably that they’re unrecognizable. Good for them, they can’t even have fanfiction of their ship where the characters keep their canon personalities. 10/10 would laugh at again.

I love the Sam erasure. It’s true to the heIIers’ character at least. They’re a one-trick pony. I’m so used to it by now that I’m totally desensitized to their bullshit. But Dean speaking Enochian? What? When and how did he learn that? I can’t see Dean in his 30s sitting there willingly to learn the language of the angels. Not even if his “kitten” is the one to teach him. Dean doesn’t give a fuck about that. If any of them is going to learn Enochian, it’ll be Sam, and they can fight me on that. I will kick anyone’s ass that argues.

I hope the mixtape Cas makes for Dean is just 4 hours of that Spaghetti song by The Wiggles because Cas sucks at doing human things.

I’d love to see the Sam erasure in the Regarding Dean one. Just swap Sam out for Cas? So Cas is the only one Dean recognizes? Hmm. Where would Sam go? A smoothie place? Yeah, as if Dean would remember the angel who he’d barely known for 8 years at that time over Sam who he’d known since he was 4 years old, lol. Sure, Jan.

The entire 5th ask is WILD, nonnie. A pet fish? Dean singing you are my sunshine? Dean kissing Cas’ forehead? LMFAO. Crowley is Jack’s godfather. The KING OF HELL is Jack’s GODfather. I’m- hgfjdksl I’m sure Dean who was ripped apart by hellhounds would love for Jack to have a pet hellhound. Yeah. Absolutely. “Uncle Gabe” yeah, fuck that guy in particular. Honestly, I’m surprised they haven’t erased Eileen to make SabrieI endgame in their fic. SabrieI is the Sam version of DestieI. It’s just as nasty and abusive :) which was why the heIIers ship it. They’re into abuse. It’s their shtick.

I do wonder what the point of the fish is... Sam has always loved and wanted a dog... you’d think they’d give Sam a dog... but I forgot they don’t pay attention to the show unless the episode has Mushy in the credits. I literally saw a heIIer say they skipped episodes if Mushy wasn’t in the credits... so they don’t know how to characterize Sam or Dean, but from this message they don’t even know how to characterize Cas who seems to be their precious uwu baby angel so I’m not surprised. I can’t wait for them to start releasing this shitshow. It makes for good fodder to make fun of them all over again. They really watched a grand total of 146 out of 327 episodes and thought, “Yeah, my opinion about the show definitely matters,” and I think that’s fucking hilarious.

Sorry for taking so long to respond! Hope I did a good job, nonnie. <3

#anti destihellers #anti destiel #hellers really can't characterize worth shit huh #this is honestly sad and pathetic #hellers are good for nothing if not for laughs #long post #sorry guys #anon #kiri answers asks

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bisexualcrowley · 4 years ago

Text

Stay

Pairing: Crowley x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: After a bad fight with the Winchesters, you find an unexpected source of comfort in the king of hell

Content/warnings: Angst, cursing, bit of fluff towards the end

Word count: 1,153

Requested by anon

It was still dark when your car door slammed shut outside the bunker, the low rumble of the engine the only sound as you drove down the empty road.

You didn’t know where you were headed as the dark silhouettes of trees blurred into a town, into stretches of farmland and then back into trees again, all you really knew was that you wanted to drive, to get as far away from the place that had become your home.

Trembling hands clutched the steering wheel as you sped down the seemingly never-ending highway with knuckles white from pressure. You were surprised how long you lasted before you found your eyes wandering to the dusty photo taped to the car’s dashboard, a picture of you arm in arm with Cas and the Winchesters at Bobby’s place, their smiling faces on most days a reminder of a happy memory, where tonight they brought a wave of resentment and misery.

“MotherFUCKERS” You shouted, slamming your hand against the grip of the steering wheel as you tried desperately to hold back tears. You weren’t going to cry, you just weren’t, you repeated internally again and again until it was ingrained in the backs of your eyelids, replaying like a broken record.

“The Winchesters again, I presume?” The quiet, raspy voice of the king of hell was the last thing you had expected to hear tonight, and you absolutely hadn’t expected him to just show up in your car in the middle of the night, the action shocking you enough to lose control of the car momentarily, the wheels swerving off the road before the demon’s quick hand shot over to steady the wheel. “Woah there pumpkin, just me”

“What the fuck Crowley, you scared the shit out of me” You breathed, tearing your eyes off the road to glance over at your friend, who had seated himself comfortably in the passenger seat and as always, donned a perfectly tailored suit. The only thing differentiating this Crowley from the Crowley you usually knew was the expression of concern painting his face, the demon apparently making no effort to disguise it.

“Sorry love, I know I shouldn’t just pop in, especially this time of night but I heard you got into a bit of a spat with moose and squirrel, I wanted to make sure you were alright.” He spoke softly, and you could see out of the corner of your eye that he was fiddling nervously with his hands, an action you had never seen from the always so cocky man.

You felt your eyes swell with tears at his words, and in a discrete attempt to hold them back you took a slow breath, another, but another glance at Crowley had the walls you had built up shattering. Your body shook as a choked sob escaped your lips, the tears now flowing freely down your cheeks.

The demon paused, at first in shock then quickly turning back to concern, and though he hated to admit it, affection. Damn these feelings, why do I care so bloody much about a hunter for shit’s sake.

“... Do you want to talk about what happened?” He asked cautiously, internally cursing at his previous thought. You bloody shitstick, you care about them because they’re worth caring for.

You whimpered again, bit your lip to try and stifle the noise but it was futile, all your bottled up emotions taking right now to fly out all at once much to your dismay.

“N-not right now Crowley, just please, please stay, I don’t want to be alone right now ” You sniffled, silently thanking your voice for holding steady as you took another shaky breath.

Crowley nodded, and without a word he reached over and placed a hand over your knee. It was such a simple gesture, just a lingering touch but it had you sobbing all over again, this time not just from pain but mostly from the comfort you found in the motion.

Without giving it a second thought you let your right hand drift from it’s grip on the steering wheel to rest on top of Crowley’s. If it were any other time the both of you would have laughed at how he immediately turned his palm upwards and threaded his fingers through your own, giving your hand a soft squeeze before letting his thumb drift over your wrist.

Neither of you needed to speak to know what the action meant, and in the back of your mind you were grateful for the unspoken bond you shared, because God knows you wouldn’t have been able to find the right words had you chosen to talk.

The demon watched as the corner of your mouth curved up in a weak smile, your breathing slowing from shuddering gasps back to normal as the seconds ticked by, and he offered you a smile too.

By the time you chose to pull in to a motel the sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon, and Crowley was passed out in his seat, hand still resting comfortably in yours.

The sight brought a tired grin to your face, the king of hell curled up peacefully in the passenger side of a beaten down old car. You didn’t know demons even did sleep until now, but it was a more than welcome discovery, and you quickly pulled out your phone and snapped a picture before undoing your seatbelt and giving his hand a soft squeeze.

"Hey, um, I’m gonna get a room and get some sleep if I can. If you want you can go now, sorry that I kept you around for so long” You winced internally at the unfortunate attempt at a joke, but to your surprise the demon chuckled, opening his eyes slowly and peering up at you.

“Don’t worry pumpkin, I’m more than happy to stick around for as long as you’ll have me.”

You opened your mouth to speak but as you had expected, the words caught in your throat, so you settled on squeezing the demon’s hand again, tighter this time and full of emotion.

Crowley returned the motion, and with a warm smile he reached up and pulled your face down to his, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

Your fight with the Winchesters was all but forgotten by now. As a hunter you had learned to live in the moment, take the time to enjoy the little things, and this was most definitely a moment you wanted to hold on to. You felt safe in the little car, hand clasped affectionately in Crowley’s as the sun gradually rose in the sky, and it was beautiful.

#crowley #crowley x reader #crowley x reader angst #supernatural imagine #crowley supernatural #mark sheppard #crowley one shot #unspoken love #queue #gender neutral reader #crowley x gender neutral reader #non-binary reader

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mirach · 4 years ago

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Good Omens recs

Here are some of my all time favourite stories, but be warned that my taste is rather specific and can get into darker themes. I especially like hurt/comfort focused on Aziraphale, but that’s not the only thing you’ll encounter in this list.

The Strong Tower by @aziraphalelookedwretched (M, 41,458)

After the failed executions, a vengeful angel takes it upon herself to neutralise the threat presented by Crowley and Aziraphale.

All stories by BuggreAlleThis are wonderful even if they get very dark in places. There (almost) always is comfort that’s more than worth the hurt and I love them all, but this one remains special to me as one of the first stories I read in this fandom and awaited every update eagerly.

White Walls and Dead Air by BabyHoldMyFlower (G; 3,382 words)

It’s after the fourth day that he decides he hates God. He’s too tired to hold it back. Too miserable. Too busy dying. He knows he’ll go back on it later. He knows that he’ll repent later, and he’ll mean it, he thinks, once he gains some perspective, but there is nothing that could stop this bone-deep agony from churning and rising into something ugly. He’s not supposed to feel this way. He’s an angel, he really shouldn’t be thinking these things. Blind obedience is what they were created for. It’s in this moment that he can admit to a flaw in the Almighty’s design. If she wanted soldiers, she shouldn’t have given them the capacity to love.

Beautifully written and bittersweet, with lovely wing grooming and insights into the characters.

A Demon Would A-Wooing Go by @shinyhappygoth (G; 301 words)

“Heigh ho,” said Anthony Crowley, and just drove anyway.—Good Omens

Filk of "A Frog He Would A-Wooing Go".

I just love a silly take on a silly folk song that was actually referenced in the book, okay?

Flaming Sword by Bookwormgal (T; 8,576 words)

A dark shape in the not-quite-empty darkness. Dressed in black robes. Humanoid. Skeletal. Then wings unfolded. Angel wings, but not ones of feathers. Wings of night. Wings that Aziraphale could sense more than see in this strange place. And even if the thin thread didn't truly exist except as a concept to better understand what was happening, one skeletal hand rested on the weakening connection. Waiting patiently.

Azrael. Creation's Shadow. The Angel of Death.

"Oh," he said quietly, his voice swallowed by the emptiness.

Aziraphale remembered what happened. He remembered moving. He remembered the blade sliding in, sharp and sudden. He remembered pain. And then…

"I died, didn't I?" he asked.

I like the exploration of the theme of self-sacrifice here. This is just my personal pick from several of my favourite stories from this author.

Courage by Anonymous (E, 21,595 words - WIP)

Ten years after the world didn’t end, Heaven and Hell want to punish Aziraphale and Crowley for their treason. Gabriel decides that the perfect way to punish both of them is to torture Aziraphale and force Crowley to watch; Hell agrees to the plan. Aziraphale and Crowley are kidnapped from their South Downs cottage and taken to a neutral location; Aziraphale is tortured and raped and Crowley is forced to watch; they are then returned home, Aziraphale critically injured.

This is the Prologue (the first three chapters; all of the violence is confined to chapter 2, which can be skipped).

The real story begins in chapter 4; it’s the story of how Aziraphale and Crowley recover from the trauma. They are both profoundly traumatized; it takes a long time, but they work through it together, and their marriage recovers. There will be a happy ending.

Aziraphale and Crowley heal each other.

This story is a WIP, but it already got to the part where things are getting better. It’s very (very!) heavy, but absolutely beautifully written, it’s giving me goosebumps.

Love Seeketh Not Itself to Please by die_traumerei (T, 14,645 words)

After Aziraphale is left gravely injured by a summoning, Crowley must take him to heaven and bargain with the angels for his life. It doesn't go as he'd expect.

A hurt/comfort story that’s focused on the comfort part, really satisfying to read!

Evolution by @lady-divine-writes (M; 1,455 words)

Five times Aziraphale wasn’t the most confident Dom, and the one time it finally clicked.

Again I’m only picking one story, but there are so many more from this author that I love! I bookmarked this one because I don’t usually see Aziraphale as Dom, but here he is fully in character and gets there through conscious effort, and it feels very empowering.

The Longest Night by @charlottemadison42 (series rated T-E, 34,747 words)

The night the Apocalypse doesn't happen, an angel and a demon share a bus bench on the way home to face their fates. This is the story of their evening spun out line by line, all the little moments that carried them through the night they knew might be their last.

A wonderfully written series giving a detailed account of the night before the trials, complete with drunken talk, with wonderful grasp of the characters. Again just a personal pick from the stories by a really great writer.

Who Needs Heaven (when we have each other)? by Kat_Rowe (series rated G-M (so far), 48,057 words so far)

Now that they're independent of Heaven and Hell, Aziraphale and Crowley become even closer. Friendship eventually turns to romance, and emotional intimacy to physical. (Slow-burn friends-to-lover fic series.)

A very gentle series starting with wing grooming and continuing through the exploration of a relationship in which one of the partners (Aziraphale) is asexual.

Fancy Patter on the Telephone by @hotcrosspigeon (G, 12,854 words)

A series of telephone conversations between Aziraphale and Crowley during the Lockdown.

They get steadily more desperate and ridiculous as the weeks go on.

Featuring a moping demon, a teasing angel, a pub quiz, an explosion, extraordinary amounts of alcohol, a bubble bath, awkward flirting, several love confessions... and an ill-conceived bet on who can last the longest without seeing the other.

What could possibly go wrong?

HotCrossPigeon is an amazing hurt/comfort writer who writes absolutely delightful Aziraphale ahurt/comfort from Crowley’s spot-on POV, so definitely check their other stories as well, but I just had to pick this one that’s actually humorous and doesn’t contain even a drop of blood because I couldn’t stop laughing with it.

Feathers by @29-pieces (series rated G; 23,247 words)

Pre-Apocalypse shenanigans. In this AU, when an angel and a demon fight, the victor customarily takes a feather from their opponent signifying victory over them. Usually followed by killing them, naturally. But sometimes the defeated angel or demon is left alive, minus a feather, so that everyone KNOWS. Neither Crowley or Aziraphale ever took part in that sort of thing because it's really just a mean thing to do.

A series of three stories, two with hurt Aziraphale and one with hurt Crowley.

5 Times Aziraphale was Almost Discorporated and One Time He Actually was by @charliebrown1234 (series rated T-M; 29,011 words)

This series is an absolute match for my need of Aziraphale hurt/comfort, just like their more recent story Ex Infirmitas, Sinceritas. One of the authors I’m subscribe to and read everything they write.

The Whole Sky Fell by @thepaisleyelf (T, 9,692 words)

“Okay, Aziraphale, out with it,” Crowley said finally. “What’s wrong?”

Aziraphale blinked. He suddenly seemed very interested in looking anywhere that wasn’t at Crowley, fiddling with the napkin in his lap.

“I don’t -- I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”

Aziraphale really was a terrible liar. Under other circumstances Crowley might have found it charming, cute even, but his concern had been growing ever since he’d picked Aziraphale up for breakfast that morning....

Same as above, Turcote just knows what I love to read. Definitely check their other stories as well!

Desperate Ground by @desperateground (M, 55,883 words)

After they prevented the apocalypse and escaped execution, Crowley and Aziraphale thought they were safe from the machinations of Heaven and Hell. But there are still some demons with scores to settle - and since the angel and demon have made it clear to the world how far they're willing to go for each other, Hell has plenty of leverage on them.

A breathtaking story with torture and unwavering loyalty of the characters to each other.

***

And if you find these recs to your taste, then you might also enjoy

Back to the Roots by me (M, 90,946 words)

"We always knew it would end. Like mortals know that they'll die." Crowley closes his eyes, finding the stare of his own reflection unbearable. "When you're immortal, you can afford to pretend and hide and go slow. And then, when you finally figure it all out, it turns out that what you have can end anytime. It's unfair..." ---------- The morale in Heaven and Hell is low after the failed Apocalypse. Punishing the traitors (effectively this time) seems like a good idea to raise it for both sides - the angels would see what awaits them if they dare to disobey and the demons could just use some fun. And then there is someone else as well - someone whose grudge is even more personal.

Also torture and unwavering loyalty, breaking the characters and then putting them together with great care. This is the darkest from my stories, so if torture is not your thing, you can check my other ones (mostly Aziraphale hurt/comfort too).

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens rec #hurt aziraphale

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spookyseraphs · 4 years ago

Text

supernatural and the x-files (specifically destiel and msr) parallels

this was intended to convert my spn friends to txf and my txf friends to spn and then it got out of hand. i got tired of finding sources for everything, so you’ll just have to trust me, i’m an expert on both subjects.

cas=scully

cas/scully's faith in god vs dean/mulder being non-believers (but believing in the other) (spn) (txf)

cas being the healer, scully being a doctor (spn) (txf)

cas is supposed to guard the michael sword but falls in love vs scully sent to debunk the x-files but falls in love (spn) (txf)

cas and scully are both immortal (spn) (txf) (also)

cas/scully's families hate dean/mulder (spn) (txf)

cas/scully coming to believe in humanity/the paranormal (spn) (txf)

i'm an angel vs i'm a medical doctor (spn doesn’t have a compilation) (txf)

they’re not like... the best drivers

hello dean vs mulder it’s me (spn) (txf)

dean=mulder

dean/mulder's fucked up fathers (spn) (txf)

dean/mulder's eldest child syndrome and their unhealthy need to protect their younger sibling (spn) (txf)

dean/mulder being the best in their respective fields (hunting and criminal profiling) and being well known for it

dean/mulder and their porn habits (spn) (txf)

no one has ever hated themselves the way dean and mulder hate themselves (spn) (txf)

dean and mulder both have issues with fire (spn) (txf)

both die, get buried, and then come back

sunflower seeds vs pie

also they both hate nazis (spn) (txf)

yellow fever vs war of the coprophages (spn) (txf)

ship parallels

blue and green eyes (hazel is close enough)

for some reason theres a pizza man parallel? (spn) (pt 2) (txf) (pt 2)

mulder/krycek vs dean/crowley (spn) (txf) (also)

cas/hannah vs scully/pendrell (poor hannah and pendrell never stood a chance... and died)

also cas/scully get laid ONE TIME (april/ed jerse) and they almost die because of it and then never do it again (spn) (txf)

vs dean/mulder having plenty of love interests/hookups

cas/scully have never done anything wrong ever

dean/mulder... sigh... i love them... but they've made some questionable decisions (i'm looking at you mulder: fucking the vampire THE EP AFTER SCULLY'S ABDUCTION AND WHILE WEARING HER CROSS and dean, kicking cas out and locking jack in the ma’lak box?? really guys?) (spn) (txf)

creators who think their relationship is platonic despite everyone with eyes saying otherwise (spn) (txf)

also the way that neither were ever written or intended to be romantic

the fandoms were split heavily between shippers and non shippers

they also both had to have scenes changed because they were being played too romantic

a kiss was cut from the episode memento mori and gillovny were always trying to hold hands (x)

jackles forever wanting to cradle misha's face and the cut i love you from the crypt scene (x)

just... gillovny vs cockles in general, i am not a real person shipper, HOWEVER they are both messy (spn) (txf)

their first meetings? iconic. chemistry? immaculate. dean/mulder are super defensive but tbh cas/scully fell in love at first sight (spn) (txf)

they also had no concept of personal space pretty much immediately (spn) (txf)

they have a baby (that has magic powers) together that they lose twice (jack dies and becomes god, william/jackson is adopted and then as far as they know he dies) (spn) (txf)

cas/scully also have a kind of kid (claire/emily) that dean/mulder are willing to co-parent regardless of the fact that they definitely aren't theirs (spn) (txf)

we get an i love you that still doesn't get taken seriously or make them canon (stuck in the middle (with you) and triangle) (spn) (txf)

dean keeping cas's trenchcoat vs mulder keeping scully's cross (spn) (txf)

they go absolutely batshit when the other is in danger or dies/is dying (spn) (txf)

they're also known and used by their enemies as each other's weaknesses (spn) (txf)

msr being mistaken as a couple vs every angel and demon cracking jokes about destiel being a couple (spn) (txf)

skinner and sam just off to the side looking frustrated while msr and destiel are having a couples moment (spn) (txf)

eating each others food (spn) (txf)

appreciating each others interests (spn) (and this one) (txf)

parallels except the roles are swapped

dreamland/small potatoes vs casifer, i just think scully/dean should have realized IMMEDIATELY (spn) (txf)

mulders fight the future speech vs cas's confession (spn) (txf)

they should have kissed and didn't

it almost ambiguously canonizes them both

AND THE SECRET TAPES, the most famous msr kiss isn't an actual canon kiss, it's a blooper of gillian and david making out in front of the camera (two different times) and it wasn't scripted it was literally just them messing around (x)

this is me manifesting jackles dropping the tapes and those tapes having the same energy

they just really love each other (spn) (txf)

non ship/general parallels

leyla harrison vs becky rosen being fandom stand ins (spn) (txf)

they were supposed to end on season 5

Good but bad (absolutely iconic) sci-fi shows

they both had two finales which both sucked

they shared soooo many cast and crew and both filmed in vancouver

they're such similar shows, motw/story episodes, the funny and serious episodes, dealing with the paranormal, they're basically siblings

also siblings in the way that they handle racism, misogyny and consent/rape/bodily autonomy

the supernatural book series vs the movie made about mulder and scully (spn) (txf)

mystery spot vs monday (spn) (txf)

tall tales vs bad blood (spn) (txf)

the benders vs home (spn) (txf)

why did both shows use live bees??? (spn) (txf)

the fbi's most wanted and the fbi's most unwanted (also everyone involved looks cute as fbi agents) (spn) (look how cute!) (txf) (cuties!!)

the syndicate vs heaven and the cigarette smoking man vs god

the bunker vs the basement office

every single side character on both shows deserved better!!! most of them literally didn't need to die!!! and i'm still angry!!!

the poor brothers adam milligan and charlie scully existing and then being literally forgotten about until the last season

the fandoms living for things cut from the scripts (spn) (txf)

team free will vs mulder, scully, and skinner

these ones are shippy, but more my opinion than factual

both pairs just keep getting traumatic events dumped on them for absolutely no reason

cas/scully both have major exasperated why do i love this man vibes

absolutely most iconic and slowest slow burn romances of all time and are just the longest games of will they/won't they, baiting, and were never INTENDED to be slow burns

they're always willing to die/kill for each other, however they WILL NOT talk about their feelings under any circumstances

in the field where i died, mulder says that he and scully have been around each other in past lives but never romantically and according to chuck, every other universe's castiel just pulled dean out of hell and listened to his orders

SO in these other lives/universes they were always linked to each other but only in this life/universe do they fall in love

the last seasons really fuck up my favorite characters

dean should not be that shitty to jack OR cas for that matter

and mulder shouldn't have left scully and william (and dearest dana?? DANA?)

and, controversial opinion, but cas/scully could do so much better and deserve so much better but dean/mulder... it's the best they'll ever get

HOWEVER, i feel like their love is MORE powerful BECAUSE cas/scully could do better but they don't want better or normal they want dean/mulder and they will fight to the death for it, it's not the easy choice, it's just what they want

and i say this with all the love in the world for both dean and mulder, but cas could have just followed his orders and returned to heaven like every other version of himself did. scully could have easily found a normal man to settle down and have 2.5 kids with. dean was always going to be stuck in chuck's plans, and mulder absolutely could not just go find a wife to settle down with.

cas/scully put up with SO MUCH SHIT from dean/mulder, while being ALWAYS FAITHFUL to them, it was never the easy option to love these men and stay by their sides, it was hard and they worked for it!!!

they’re both the greatest love story ever told, they tied

#spn #supernatural #destiel #deancas #txf #The X-Files #x files #msr #oops i guess the indented bullets don't work on mobile #anyway #i really spent two days doing this #making this made me really have to confront what is canon and what is fanon deeply ingrained in my mind #ALSO every msr moment is perfect when imagined as destiel #and vice versa #if i were smarter i'd write actual meta about this cause it was actually super interesting

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exasperatedcrowleystan · 4 years ago

Text

The mistletoe conspiracy

Pairing: Crowely x reader, Dean x Castiel

Written for: @spnchristmasbingo

Warnings: none, but there a couple of curse words.

Summary: you and Sam have placed a bet on Dean and Castiel, and set the limits for it. You can't push them, but the mistletoe tradition gives you an opening. When Crowley decides to help, for the sake of creating mayhem, the rules are bent.

A/N: you can find this fic on AO3, here. The whole series can be found here. It’s a series, so you can read each one individually, but they are written to work better together!

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

You and Sam are discussing in one of the library nooks, keeping your voices low to avoid unwanted attention. When you realize that, subconsciously, Sam is signing the words, you tease him a bit, smiling.

“You picked up new habits, uh?”

He looks confused for a moment, then he realizes that his hands are still signing something. He grins, definitely at ease. “Yeah... good ones, from time to time.”

“Yeah... anyway, creating the right circumstances cannot be seen as disqualifying.”

“You can't shove them together and tell me that it's not a manipulation!”

“You don't think you can conspire without your favourite demon, right?” Crowley's voice behind you makes you both spring and turn to him. “Guess I should have made myself heard.”

“Yeah, you should have” Sam deadpans, making Crowley grin.

“What were you discussing with such secrecy, then? I thought that with the new world order you finally realized the benefits of telling things. Are you feeling nostalgic already?”

Before Sam snaps, you explain to Crowley what's going on. If you didn't, he'd just keep tormenting you until he gets an answer, spoiling the whole thing.

“We have a few bets going on in the bunker, about Cas and Dean. Sam insists that if I should weaponize the mistletoe to encourage them, it would be unacceptable. Clearly, he's just scared to lose fifty bucks.”

Crowley thinks about it for a moment. “I want in.”

“It's not a pool, Crowley. And I wouldn't take money from you in any case.” Sam spits out, a sour look on his face.

“Come on Sam... what's the harm in letting him in?”

“Why is he still here again?” Sam asks you, definitely annoyed.

“Because I asked him.”

A moment of silence and bedazzlement falls on the three of you. Since you arrived, Crowley just stayed around you, coming and going, but mostly sticking by your side. The most you did was not protesting about this. Admitting you actually want him there... that's not something Sam or Crowley were prepared to hear. Surely you were not prepared to say it.

Sam manages to untie his tongue first, and gives you a knowing look. “Of course you did. Fine... mistletoe allowed, then, but no pushing, ok?”

“Yeah, got it.”

“Eileen and I are going out for a milk run and then dinner. We're picking up the last things for Christmas dinner and a few more bottles. We'll be back later tonight. If you think of anything while we're gone, just send me a text, ok?”

You nod and try to focus and understand Sam's words, but the feeling of Crowley's stare on you is hard to ignore. When Sam leaves you two alone, you finally look at Crowley. He's studying you, apparently.

“What?” you snap, unable to stand the tension or his silence. He knows how to make you uncomfortable, and he enjoys it immensely, or so you think. The truth is a bit more shaded than that.

“Nothing. I just don't recall you asking me to stay.”

“Well... I called you, didn't I?”

“Yes, but...”

“And I asked you to... come pick up chestnuts with us, and you helped with the decorations, right?”

“Correct.”

“So... that settles it, I guess.”

He nods, biting lightly the inside of his cheek. You noticed he does that when he's thinking about something, and you'd die to know what's now going on in his mind. Instead, you look at the high ceiling of the bunker. You're going to use the doors for your plan, that's for sure.

While you walk away, Crowley follows you, once again, without even having to ask for it. He still looks like he's plotting something, and your curiosity can only be kept at bay for so long.

“What are you planning?”

“You know... there might be an easier way to convince Dean and Castiel to act on their ridiculous mutual pining and free us all from this tired show.”

“Of course you just happen to have a plan lying around.”

“You know me. Now... do you want to hear it, or the less you know about it the better?”

“What do you want in exchange?”

“Can we consider this your Christmas present?”

“Hell, no!” you laugh it off. You surely are not expecting the former king of Hell to give you anything, and in any case you wouldn't waste your present on something that's just a matter of time before it happens.

“... half of the revenue of your bet, then?”

“Half of my... what do you plan to do with twenty-five dollars?”

Crowley surprises you brushing the tip of his fingers on your cheek, closing in on you. “Do we have a deal?”

Without even talking, you nod at him. He leans closer to you, his grin impossible to ignore. You instinctively move closer to him, inhaling his scent and trying not to gulp, but he draws back.

“Good. I'll see you later, love.”

“What? I thought you'd help me!”

“I will, I keep my word. Do your thing, I'll do mine. Oh, and... tell the kid. I'm sure he'd like to be involved.”

You don't even have time to protest that Crowley is gone, leaving you alone. You take a deep breath, trying not to overheat and be irritated. You just openly told half of the Winchester family that you are the reason why their once nemesis is casually spending the holidays with you, and said nemesis just decided to bail. “Fucking typical.” Is all you mutter through you teeth before heading to Jack's room.

About two hours later, you and Jack are done. You skipped dinner, but during the holidays it's not really possible to stop eating, so neither of you is hungry. Jack has been touching the mistletoe and working a bit of his mojo on the twigs to keep them fresh. He then hanged them around with his powers, following your precise instructions.

Dean has kept to the Dean cave for the whole time, while Castiel is in the library, reading and just showing up from time to time to cast a curious glance or an amused smile at Jack, who seems absolutely ecstatic about this new discovery.

What you don't realize, is that Jack is indeed a kid, but he's also much more acquainted with feelings than what you think. He's not part of any of the bets placed in the bunker, which might as well find a new life as a gambling den, but he's been looking closely at all of you. And he brought Crowley back for a very specific reason.

“So... do you think it's going to work?”

You wink at him, confident. “Sure. We basically plastered the doors with mistletoe. They are bound to find themselves under these together, especially if you think about Cas' idea of personal space.”

“Oh. So... what shall we do now? Just... sit here and wait?”

“Well... Crowley has a plan for this, too. I think it's fair to assume that tonight we're going...”

“SON OF A BITCH!” Dean's voice echoes through the bunker, interrupting you. By now you've learned to read the interjection like any other of his phrases, and he doesn't sound on high alert, just very exasperated. Jack looks at you, quickly catching on.

“Crowley's plan?”

“You heard how pissed he is? Of course it's Crowley.”

Not even thirty seconds later, Crowley stumbles in the war room from the corridor, walking backwards to not turn his back to a furious Dean. The same Dean who has what looks like a halo of mistletoe floating about a foot above his head.

“Crowley, if you don't take this thing off I'm ganking you, I swear to God.”

“God is dead, Squirrel, and your ex girlfriend is hands off, remember?”

Dean lunges at Crowley, who simply moves aside, avoiding the assault. “You know, it really goes well with your eyes.”

“Alright, listen here you son of a bitch. Now you're gonna take this off, or I'm ripping your head off.”

“Now, Squirrel. That's not really in holly jolly spirit, is it?”

Despite your best attempts, both you and Jack cannot stifle a laughter. The look of Dean, going around with a gracious little mistletoe crown gracefully hovering above his head while he tries to catch Crowley is simply too amusing to stay serious. Unfortunately, judging by Dean's stare, he's not enjoying the whole situation as much as you do.

“Y/N, this is entirely your fault for bringing him here.”

You openly laugh at him. “I don't know, Dean. I think it gives you the right touch of holiday spirit.”

“Take this thing off or so help me!”

When Castiel joins you in the war room, he tilts his head on a side for a moment, looking at the scene in front of him. Crowley is now standing next to you and Jack, while Dean is glaring murderously at you all.

“What's going on?”

“That damn bastard stuck this stupid thing on my head and it won't come off!”

“I see. How?” Castiel asks Crowley, who just smirks.

“It does come off, actually. You just need to respect tradition. It's magic, so I wouldn't waste grace on it.”

“What?” Dean seems shocked at the idea, and looks at you, awkward and angry. “Well, after all you brought him here...”

“I wouldn't do that, Squirrel.” Crowley's tone is controlled, but extremely threatening. You shoot him a questioning glance, but he keeps staring at Dean, who grabs the twigs and tries to pull them away again, with no success.

“Crowley, I swear.”

Castiel sighs and looks at Dean. A surreal silence falls on all of you, while you all try to anticipate what's going to happen and simultaneously look away. Well, except Crowley, of course.

“Come on, Feathers. Your protégée is under the spell of an evil demon. Your action is needed.”

If looks could kill, Crowley would probably be reduced to a smoking pile of ash on the floor by Castiel and Dean. With a sigh, Castiel moves closer to Dean and puts his hand on the unwanted ornament over his head.

“He's right. This is magic.”

“Yeah, Cas, we established that already.”

“I'm just trying to help.”

“Well...” Dean hesitates. He'd rather die than do this in front of Crowley, but all in all... it's not going to be that big of a deal. And if things go as he plans for them to go, it won't be the only time he's going to have to. Not judging by how close to you he's standing now, at least.

“What is it, Dean?” Cas asks, and Dean is left speechless once again. Finally, the urge of not wasting another chance outweighs everything else: the expectations, the fears, the doubts and the shadows creeping in the darkest corners of his brain. The only thing that matters now is that Cas is there for him, once again, and he is not going to waste another chance like he did with all the other.

He leans in, moving closer to Cas, who just stays still, the faintest hint of an understanding smile pursing his lips.

Their first kiss is barely a kiss, the lightest brushing of lips against lips, eyes fluttering close for a moment, and then a quick, awkward drawback. Dean is so up in his thoughts that he jumps when he feels something falling on top of his head. Smiling, Castiel takes the twigs in his hand and walks to Crowley.

“Next time you want to practice magic, I suggest you involve a willing participant.”

“That didn't go too bad, didn't it?” he remarks with a very satisfied grin on his lips.

Knowing that Dean won't stay quiet and awkward for much longer, you wisely opt for getting away from there. You also know, by Castiel's look, that they could use some privacy. You nudge Crowley and Jack and hint at the end of the library with your head. You quickly walk away and give the two the space they need.

Once Jack happily sinks in an armchair, you head for one of the cabinets and fish one of the good bottles and two glasses, offering one to Crowley. He steps close to you, and carefully takes in the sight of you. He looks at your hands holding the glasses, moving them on the small space, the focused stare on the neck of the bottle when you try not to spill even the little drop that sticks to the glass. He loves the care that you put in every small gesture, and when you offer him his glass his fingers graze yours lightly while he takes it.

“Thanks, kitten. To what shall we toast?”

“To another one of your brilliant plans, I'd say.”

“And to you winning a bet.”

You smile and click your glass against his one. “Cheers to that!”

You smile, happy to see Dean and Castiel finally acting on their feelings. It was long due, and the idea of Crowley, despite being really simple, was exactly what was needed.

You are so focused on finishing your scotch that you don't notice Jack walking away, leaving you two alone.

Meanwhile, Crowley is staring at you, completely absorbed in his thoughts. He could spend hours studying the way your eyes twinkle reflecting the lights of the hall. He could write pages filled with love and lust about the way your lips curl in a barely-there smile. He'd pass his time grazing your neck with the tip of his fingers, just to kiss the goosebumps away from your body.

You feel the weight of his stare on you, and turn to look at him with a curiosity so innocent that he can't hold back a smile.

“What is it, Crowley?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You were... looking at me. I thought you wanted to tell me something.”

He shrugs, taking your empty glass from your hands and setting it down next to his one. “I appreciate beauty. Is it so strange?”

“And you look at me?”

His smile doesn't dim while he answers you. “Where else?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Make me?”

You laugh, awkward. He always finds a way to keep you on your toes, and he surely has no will to be subtle about it... but that's him. That's the demon you grew to care for, definitely too much.

You missed him more than you'd ever thought possible to miss anyone when he was gone, and when he was brought back... you were happy. So happy that you didn't care about Dean or Sam staring at you, and just went to hug him. If they noticed how emotional you were, they were graceful enough not to mention it. You almost lost it when Crowley hugged you back.

Just when you are finally about to take a step back, something brushes the top of your head. You curiously look up, just to see a small branch of mistletoe floating midair.

“Crowley?”

“Not my doing, kitten. Maybe someone is expecting you... us to follow tradition.”

“I...”

Your stare falls on Crowley's lips, only to find them curved in the softest smile he's ever given you. You nod, not trusting your voice enough to speak. He places a hand on your cheek, brushing your cheekbone with his thumb. You study his dark green eyes, taking in the imperceptible streaks of blue almost hidden in the dim lights.

He moves as close as possible to you, stopping just a second before touching your lips. “God, you're beautiful.”

You close the distance between you and smile against his lips. You smile for everything: his words, his hand on your cheek, the warmth of his soft lips.

He kisses you gently, without hesitation or rush, savoring the moment and your taste on him.

His hand rests on your skin, while you open your mouth and deepen the kiss. His tongue touching yours sends a pleasant shiver down your spine and you inhale sharply. You can feel his signature smirk making an appearance while his hand slides on the nape of your neck and buries through tour hair, pulling you as close as possible.

When you finally break the kiss, you rest your forehead against his one, grinning. “How's that for tradition?”

“I'm sure we can do better than that.”

“You know... I've heard the naughty list is incredibly funnier than the nice one.”

“I'd be a lousy demon if I couldn't move you there.”

You giggle and peck his lips, taking his hand and heading to your room.

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

Thank you for reading my work! If you enjoy it, I hope you’ll leave a like, a comment, or reblog it (I really need reblogs with the problems I’m having with the site).

Please, DO NOT REPOST MY WORK OR PART/S OF IT, even if you give credits. Thank you for your support!

#spn #spnchristmasbingo #Christmas fluff #dean x castiel #crowley x reader #crowley x fem reader #jack is a ray of sunshine #canon divergence #fanfic #fanfiction #writers on tumblr

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pathetic-has-been-rockstar · 4 years ago

Text

The mistletoe conspiracy

Pairing: Crowley x reader, Dean x Castiel

Written for: @spnchristmasbingo

Square filled: mistletoe

Warnings: none

Words: 2763

This can be found on AO3, here! If you’re interested in the whole series, you just have to click here!

“You picked up new habits, uh?”

He looks confused for a moment, then he realizes that his hands are still signing something. He grins, definitely at ease. “Yeah... good ones, from time to time.”

“Yeah... anyway, creating the right circumstances cannot be seen as disqualifying.”

“You can't shove them together and tell me that it's not a manipulation!”

“You don't think you can conspire without your favourite demon, right?” Crowley's voice behind you makes you both spring and turn to him. “Guess I should have made myself heard.”

“Yeah, you should have” Sam deadpans, making Crowley grin.

“What were you discussing with such secrecy, then? I thought that with the new world order you finally realized the benefits of telling things. Are you feeling nostalgic already?”

Before Sam snaps, you explain to Crowley what's going on. If you didn't, he'd just keep tormenting you until he gets an answer, spoiling the whole thing.

Crowley thinks about it for a moment. “I want in.”

“It's not a pool, Crowley. And I wouldn't take money from you in any case.” Sam spits out, a sour look on his face.

“Come on Sam... what's the harm in letting him in?”

“Why is he still here again?” Sam asks you, definitely annoyed.

“Because I asked him.”

Sam manages to untie his tongue first, and gives you a knowing look. “Of course you did. Fine... mistletoe allowed, then, but no pushing, ok?”

“Yeah, got it.”

“What?” you snap, unable to stand the tension or his silence. He knows how to make you uncomfortable, and he enjoys it immensely, or so you think. The truth is a bit more shaded than that.

“Nothing. I just don't recall you asking me to stay.”

“Well... I called you, didn't I?”

“Yes, but...”

“And I asked you to... come pick up chestnuts with us, and you helped with the decorations, right?”

“Correct.”

“So... that settles it, I guess.”

While you walk away, Crowley follows you, once again, without even having to ask for it. He still looks like he's plotting something, and your curiosity can only be kept at bay for so long.

“What are you planning?”

“You know... there might be an easier way to convince Dean and Castiel to act on their ridiculous mutual pining and free us all from this tired show.”

“Of course you just happen to have a plan lying around.”

“You know me. Now... do you want to hear it, or the less you know about it the better?”

“What do you want in exchange?”

“Can we consider this your Christmas present?”

“... half of the revenue of your bet, then?”

“Half of my... what do you plan to do with twenty-five dollars?”

Crowley surprises you brushing the tip of his fingers on your cheek, closing in on you. “Do we have a deal?”

Without even talking, you nod at him. He leans closer to you, his grin impossible to ignore. You instinctively move closer to him, inhaling his scent and trying not to gulp, but he draws back.

“Good. I'll see you later, love.”

“What? I thought you'd help me!”

“I will, I keep my word. Do your thing, I'll do mine. Oh, and... tell the kid. I'm sure he'd like to be involved.”

“So... do you think it's going to work?”

“Oh. So... what shall we do now? Just... sit here and wait?”

“Well... Crowley has a plan for this, too. I think it's fair to assume that tonight we're going...”

“Crowley's plan?”

“You heard how pissed he is? Of course it's Crowley.”

“Crowley, if you don't take this thing off I'm ganking you, I swear to God.”

“God is dead, Squirrel, and your ex girlfriend is hands off, remember?”

Dean lunges at Crowley, who simply moves aside, avoiding the assault. “You know, it really goes well with your eyes.”

“Alright, listen here you son of a bitch. Now you're gonna take this off, or I'm ripping your head off.”

“Now, Squirrel. That's not really in holly jolly spirit, is it?”

“Y/N, this is entirely your fault for bringing him here.”

You openly laugh at him. “I don't know, Dean. I think it gives you the right touch of holiday spirit.”

“Take this thing off or so help me!”

“What's going on?”

“That damn bastard stuck this stupid thing on my head and it won't come off!”

“I see. How?” Castiel asks Crowley, who just smirks.

“It does come off, actually. You just need to respect tradition. It's magic, so I wouldn't waste grace on it.”

“What?” Dean seems shocked at the idea, and looks at you, awkward and angry. “Well, after all you brought him here...”

“Crowley, I swear.”

Castiel sighs and looks at Dean. A surreal silence falls on all of you, while you all try to anticipate what's going to happen and simultaneously look away. Well, except Crowley, of course.

“Come on, Feathers. Your protégée is under the spell of an evil demon. Your action is needed.”

“He's right. This is magic.”

“Yeah, Cas, we established that already.”

“I'm just trying to help.”

He leans in, moving closer to Cas, who just stays still, the faintest hint of an understanding smile pursing his lips.

“Next time you want to practice magic, I suggest you involve a willing participant.”

“That didn't go too bad, didn't it?” he remarks with a very satisfied grin on his lips.

“Thanks, kitten. To what shall we toast?”

“To another one of your brilliant plans, I'd say.”

“And to you winning a bet.”

You smile and click your glass against his one. “Cheers to that!”

You smile, happy to see Dean and Castiel finally acting on their feelings. It was long due, and the idea of Crowley, despite being really simple, was exactly what was needed.

You are so focused on finishing your scotch that you don't notice Jack walking away, leaving you two alone.

You feel the weight of his stare on you, and turn to look at him with a curiosity so innocent that he can't hold back a smile.

“What is it, Crowley?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You were... looking at me. I thought you wanted to tell me something.”

He shrugs, taking your empty glass from your hands and setting it down next to his one. “I appreciate beauty. Is it so strange?”

“And you look at me?”

His smile doesn't dim while he answers you. “Where else?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Make me?”

You laugh, awkward. He always finds a way to keep you on your toes, and he surely has no will to be subtle about it... but that's him. That's the demon you grew to care for, definitely too much.

Just when you are finally about to take a step back, something brushes the top of your head. You curiously look up, just to see a small branch of mistletoe floating midair.

“Crowley?”

“Not my doing, kitten. Maybe someone is expecting you... us to follow tradition.”

“I...”

He moves as close as possible to you, stopping just a second before touching your lips. “God, you're beautiful.”

You close the distance between you and smile against his lips. You smile for everything: his words, his hand on your cheek, the warmth of his soft lips.

He kisses you gently, without hesitation or rush, savoring the moment and your taste on him.

When you finally break the kiss, you rest your forehead against his one, grinning. “How's that for tradition?”

“I'm sure we can do better than that.”

“You know... I've heard the naughty list is incredibly funnier than the nice one.”

“I'd be a lousy demon if I couldn't move you there.”

You giggle and peck his lips, taking his hand and heading to your room.

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

Thank you for reading!

I truly hope you enjoyed this little story. Every kind of feedback is very much appreciated, just as much as likes and reblogs!

Please, do not repost or copy my works or part/s of it, not even if you give credits.

Forever tagging @raspberrymama <3

#spn #spnchristmasbingo #canon divergent #crowley x reader #crowley x fem reader #dean x castiel #christmas fluff #spnfic #spn fic #writers on tumblr #fanfic #fluff

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ellenripleysbelieveitornot · 5 years ago

Text

AcuteAngleAziraphale Fics

Finally got around to making a directory of my Good Omens fics, with links to AO3 and Tumblr (including a fic by fic breakdown of the Chicken Soup for the Ineffable Soul drabble collection.) A few at the top, everything else under the cut, since there’s like, 50+ fics here. (sorted by most hits on AO3)

Your Lips Are Poison; Your Taste Is Divine (Explicit)

He was beautiful, but in a ‘don’t touch’ sort of way, like the apple he was famous for- freedom and banishment all wrapped into one tantalizing fruit. Unfortunately, Aziraphale had never been particularly good at resisting temptation. So, of course, it started with a touch.

AO3 only

Chicken Soup for the Ineffable Soul (Collection)

Threadbare Heart (Gen)

For the last ten or so years, Crowley has felt an odd sort of affinity with Aziraphale’s waistcoat.

Tumblr | AO3

Wanting (Gen)

Crowley was used to wanting. Answers from a god. A place to call home. For his love to be returned.

Tumblr | AO3

Lucky (Gen)

“Angel,” Crowley said, draping his entire body across the desk where Aziraphale was reading. “Angel, let’s go somewhere.”

Tumblr | AO3

Three Words (Gen)

Three words. Three simple, little words. That was all it took for Crowley's world to fall apart. "I'm in love," Azirphale had said, a soft smile gracing his lips.

Tumblr | AO3

Free Fall (Gen)

Aziraphale fell in love slowly. That was probably for the best, since once he started, he just couldn't seem to stop.

Tumblr | AO3

Anytime with You (Gen)

Aziraphale loved spending mornings with Crowley. He loved those early hours that he got to spend reading in bed with the demon curled up, asleep, by his side.

Tumblr | AO3

Prayer (Gen)

Crowley is a prayer waiting to be answered, and Aziraphale is finally ready to let the hymns spill from his lips.

Tumblr | AO3

To Love the Sky (Gen)

There once was an angel who loved the sky more than anything.

Tumblr | AO3

Grace (Gen)

Crowley liked churches, and Aziraphale pretended that he didn’t know.

Tumblr | AO3

Hymns (Gen)

Crowley sang hymns long forgotten to the choirs of heaven.

Tumblr | AO3

I Choose You (Gen)

Some people believe in soul mates. Crowley was not one of those people.

Tumblr | AO3

Unsaid (Gen)

Aziraphale could fill entire books with words he’s left unsaid. If he transcribed every utterance he’d bitten back on his tongue, he’d find that he had covered enough pages that he could line every bookshelf he owned.

Tumblr | AO3

Giggly (Gen)

Aziraphale had a problem, and that problem wore skinny jeans and strutted around like he was more limb than substance.

Tumblr | AO3

Flicker (Teen+)

“Crowley,” Aziraphale mumbled into the demon’s lips as they kissed. “You’re doing it again.”

Tumblr | AO3

Bigger Than These Bones (Teenish)

Crowley was most definitely not human. That fact must be made abundantly clear.

Tumblr | AO3

Get Your Ducks in a Row (Gen)

The angel paid him no mind as he stopped in the middle of the path and turned around, forcing Crowley to stop, too. “Crowley, please, would you mind explaining the ducklings?!”

Tumblr | AO3

A Sort of Wickedness (Teenish)

There’s a sort of wickedness to his smile, Crowley notices, and he wonders how he didn’t see it from the start. But that’s why they go together so well, isn’t it? Just as Crowley has a little of the light running through his veins, Aziraphale has just a lick of the dark, there below the surface.

Tumblr | AO3

Not Made To Love (Gen)

Demons are not made to love. That is the only explanation Crowley can come up with for the way he feels ready to come apart at the seams.

Tumblr | AO3

Where Legends Are Born (Gen)

Crowley walked the streets of legend and saw the world unfold before him.

Tumblr | AO3

Constellations (Gen)

Aziraphale had stars covering his skin.

Tumblr | AO3

Paint the Sky (Teen)

Crowley used to paint. His brush was the cosmos and his canvas was the universe, infinite and vast. With just one stroke, he could bring the sky to life.

Tumblr | AO3

I Love You (Gen)

It was unexpected, almost. Aziraphale wouldn't have thought it (though, that was more because he had never allowed himself to dwell on such things) but, despite all of Crowley's rough edges and walls he had built to protect himself from getting hurt, he loved incredibly freely and easily.

Tumblr | AO3

Made To Love (Gen)

Crowley was made to love Aziraphale, he was sure of it.

Tumblr | AO3

The Truth (Gen)

Fic request: Crowley gushing to The Them about Aziraphale

Tumblr | AO3

Harmony (Gen)

Crowley’s love was a hurricane; wild and all-consuming, it surged within him until there was room for little else.

Tumblr | AO3

Stop Me If You’ve Heard This One Before (Gen)

Crowley relaxed even further into his lover’s lap and closed his eyes. “Can you tell me a story?”

Tumblr | AO3

Eden (Gen)

They met for the first time in the garden, but not atop the outer wall, on the day of the first rain.

Tumblr | AO3

Me-ow! (Gen)

“Oh, good lord- I’m jealous of a cat.”

Tumblr | AO3

*bang*bang* Tartan Love! Whoa! (Gen)

It’s ridiculous, really, the things Crowley will do for love. Walk across consecrated ground. Run inside a burning building. Change the upholstery in his Bentley to bloody tartan.

Tumblr | AO3

First Kisses (Gen)

The first time Aziraphale had leaned forward and closed the six thousand year long distance between them to kiss Crowley, he had made a strangled sound much like a giraffe choking on a twig and promptly fallen to the floor.

Tumblr | AO3

Call Me Angel (Gen)

Aziraphale still remembered the first time Crowley had called him ‘angel.’

Tumblr | AO3

Warmth (Gen)

The lump of tartan blankets on the couch in the back room of Aziraphale’s shop appeared with the first snowfall after the apocalypse-that-wasn’t.

Tumblr | AO3

Your Hand in Mine (Gen)

They held hands on the wall.

Tumblr | AO3

Titus Anacondicus (Gen)

...and maybe Aziraphale had just confessed to six thousand years worth of longing to a snake that was not actually Crowley at all.

Tumblr | AO3

An Absolute Angel (Gen)

In retrospect, Aziraphale probably could have avoided making an utter fool of himself if he had simply asked Crowley if they could meet up to compare disguises before making their way to the Dowling residence. As it was, he was lucky he didn’t blow the whole con by turning into a blushing mess during his job interview the moment Crowley stepped into kitchen as Nanny Ashtoreth.

Tumblr | AO3

Companion (Gen)

Though he never talked about it, Aziraphale was ancient. One of the first angels.

Tumblr | AO3

Sunrise (Gen)

[Aziraphale] had already filled this sky with his favorite colors (every shade of blue and the lightest yellows imaginable) but now the sunrise had him a bit stumped.

Tumblr | AO3

He Loves You, Idiot (Gen)

If Crowley hadn't known any better, he would have thought that Aziraphale was in love with him.

Tumblr | AO3

Treasure Beneath Gold (Gen)

Crowley, in the guise of Aziraphale, fidgeted nervously on the bench as he awaited the angel’s return from hell.

Tumblr | AO3

Accidental Miracles (Gen)

It was too much. Aziraphale was in love and it was too much.

Tumblr | AO3

Forgiveness (Gen)

“Forgive me,” Aziraphale whispers as he presses his lips to tear tracked cheeks.

Tumblr | AO3

He Knows (Gen)

‘I love you,’ Crowley says, not with words, but with his actions...

Tumblr | AO3

All This Time (Gen)

Aziraphale has a husband. This is news to Crowley.

Tumblr | AO3

Nothing Rhymes With Aziraphale (Gen)

Crowley took to writing when the moments without Aziraphale seemed to stretch into infinity. There was something about the repetitive scratch of the quill against the parchment that seemed to calm him; maybe it was just the way it seemed to drown out the part of him that had (unforgivably) learned to miss someone.

Tumblr | AO3

By Any Other Name (Gen)

Crowley wasn’t sure what exactly went wrong, but somehow, his lunch date with Aziraphale had ended with the angel acting like a complete nervous mess. OR the one where Crowley tries out various pet names.

Tumblr | AO3

The Other Side of the Coin (Collection) (Role-Swap AU)

The Beginning (Gen)

An angel and a demon meet outside of Eden.

Tumblr | AO3

Azra and the Antichrist (Gen)

Azra rides a bicycle and misplaces a baby. Raphael makes Gabriel drink coffee.

Tumblr | AO3

On Being a Bastard (Teen)

The first time Raphael had called him ‘bastard’ Azra was, understandably, a little bit insulted.

Tumblr | AO3

The Bentley (Gen)

"I still don't understand," Raphael said, as he maneuvered his Bentley at breakneck speed through the busy streets of London.

Tumblr | AO3

From an Outside Perspective (Collection)

A Little Secret (Gen)

Brother Francis, during the course of his employment for the Dowlings, always seemed to be on the very cusp of being fired.

Tumblr | AO3

Local Idiots Terrorize Ducks at St. James Park (Gen)

There was a small group of ducks at St. James park that were far more intelligent than any ducks had any right to be. This tended to happen when certain celestial beings were involved.

Tumblr | AO3

Ducks! They’re what you practice proposals on. (Gen)

It wasn’t everyday you walked into St. James’ park to find a man down on one knee, ring box in hand, declaring his undying love to a duck, but it seemed today was a day of absurdities, because that was exactly what was happening.

Tumblr | AO3

Snark (Snake Park)

As a spy, Agent [redacted] of the British Bureau of [redacted] had seen some, for lack of a more elegant word, shit. Which is why when the sunglasses wearing redhead in St. James’ Park turned into a massive snake in broad daylight, he didn’t bat an eye.

Tumblr | AO3

Because I Love You (Gen)

This is too much. They barely survived the apocalypse, barely survived getting offed by their head officers, and now Crowley asks him for this?

Tumblr | AO3

Mr. Fell and Mr. Fell (Gen)

Crowley once again changes his name.

Tumblr | AO3

Allow Me (Teen for blood)

Heaven orders Aziraphale to kill a human. Crowley is there to pick up the pieces.

Tumblr | AO3

Third Time’s the Charm (Gen)

For the prompt “please marry me.”

Tumblr | AO3

Routine (Gen)

For the prompt “why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

Tumblr | AO3

Sentimentality (Gen)

Aziraphale keeps his most treasured possession in a cigar box that finds its home nestled in the tea cupboard next to the angel’s favorite brand of earl grey.

Tumblr | AO3

It’s Always Been You (Gen)

A love story told in reverse.

Tumblr | AO3

God Only Knows (what I'd be without you) (Teen) (4/8 chapters)

Crowley and Aziraphale through the ages, but each time they meet it is for the first time.

AO3 Only

The Complete Idiot's Guide to Exorcism (Gen)

Aziraphale and Crowley fake some exorcisms.

Tumblr | AO3

An Unfortunate Lack of 'Wahoo's (Gen)

“–And then I finished my presentation, Angel, my really good presentation, I might add, you would have been proud, I used notecards and everything. Notecards, Angel!”

Tumblr | AO3

On the Stars (Gen)

I hung the stars for you.

Tumblr | AO3

I See You (Gen)

Crowley sees Aziraphale in the sunrise. He sees him in the light as it graces the sky with color and warmth.

Tumblr | AO3

One, Two, Three (Four) (Gen)

Each time they meet, it's like a dance.

Tumblr | AO3

Big Spooky Fan, Me (Collection)

Trick or Treat! (Gen)

Nanny Ashtoreth and Brother Francis take Warlock Trick or Treating.

Tumblr | AO3

A Dark and Spooky Night (Gen)

Aziraphale and Crowley tell scary stories.

Tumblr | AO3

traditions, old and new ( winter fic collection)

Traditions (Gen)

And suddenly, it’s about traditions made together.

Tumblr | AO3

#good omens fanfiction #my fic

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topaziraphale · 4 years ago

Note

the same people who hc aziraphale as being weak/not being a warrior are the same people who LOVE crowley being this super suave tempter. hello, the whole POINT of good omens is that they are neither of what they are expected to be. aziraphale rejects his role as a warrior, but that does not mean he is weak. crowley's job is to be a this suave, amazing tempter, but meanwhile he's just Anxious. aziraphale is Strong and crowley is a tempter, its just not in the way their sides want them to be.

I think a big part that plays into the charm of these two main characters is exactly that - at first, you have certain ideas for how an angel and demon character might act, especially with how they’re normally depicted in pop culture and stuff, but then you quickly learn that they’re just not quite what you’re expecting. Aziraphale and Crowley both subvert the audience’s expectations of them as well as what is expected of them by the other characters - in this case, Heaven and Hell respectively.

This actually ended up being way longer of an answer than I thought it would, so I’m putting the rest of it under a cut. For those that don’t feel like reading it all and just want a summary:

I basically talk about how Crowley puts up an element of coolness and style in what he does as a demon except for when it comes to direct temptations, and then I offer a little mini-dive into his psyche and how there’s a lot of vulnerability underneath his Cool And Definitely Not-Nice persona. Then I talk about how Aziraphale is in fact a soldier of Heaven, one who is capable of being a warrior, and how him not wanting to fight in the war is not a display of weakness, but rather one of great strength.

Also, all of the quotes I use here are from memory, so there’s a chance some of them aren’t exact.

When Crowley does his job, he does it with elements of coolness and style to it. (Note: What he perceives as cool, because some of the stuff he finds cool is actually kinda dorky. In a lovable way, of course.) But that’s for when he has his next big idea on how to generate petty low-grade evil. It’s how we end up with him cutting off a phone network by infesting a building with rats and using the guise of a technician to waltz in there and pour coffee into a cable-box-thingy, rather than him just snapping his fingers and making the networks go down that way. The ladder method is boring and not very cool.

But you’ll notice he doesn’t approach direct temptations the same way. I can see where one might think he puts as much effort into being cool and suave when it comes to making temptations, due to the way he presents himself, but honestly, all he really does is just make you see something in a different light. He just, talks. Talks and makes really good points.

“What about diabolical plans? You’re supposed to thwart the wiles of the wicked one at every turn, aren’t you? You can’t be certain that thwarting me isn’t part of the Divine Plan?”

“If there was no boy, then the process would stop. There’s a boy now, but that could change. Something could happen to him. I’m saying you could kill him. One life, for everything else.”

There’s no suave element in the way he does it, not much finesse. No extra fluff. He’s just saying what needs to be said, to make sure his idea is getting across. And it’s also fun to note that these acts of temptation are for Aziraphale - in fact, I don’t think we see him tempt humans at all after Eve. He’d rather set up elaborate schemes to ruin peoples’ days over actively participate in an act that could directly damn their souls.

Sometimes, you have to wonder why he goes through so much effort to be this way when he knows that he’ll get in trouble for not doing his job...

Crowley puts up a front that he’s confident and content with what he is and the job he has to do. He always tries to play the act of a cool, stylish, perfect demon that is mean and evil and most definitely not a nice person. But we can see that underneath it all, he never meant to fall, and he’s still upset about it. He still doesn’t understand why it happened for what he did, and he knows he never will. He doesn’t like that the answer for it all is always chalked up to: It’s part of the Great Plan. We see him project the wrath of God onto his houseplants. We see him directly call out the nature of the Plan more than once, in the show.

I’ll even argue that he’s somewhat projecting onto Adam and Eve when he talks about how God punished them in the garden, when he first speaks to Aziraphale: “Bit of an overreaction, if you ask me. First offense, and everything.”

Aziraphale, being an angel, is clearly part of the army of Heaven and is expected in battle. We even get reminded of this by the many times people ask him where the flaming sword is, and by Gabriel telling him he’s a mean, lean, fighting-machine. And once more when the Quartermaster informs him that his platoon is waiting for him - they wouldn’t be waiting for him if he wasn’t their lieutenant. The script book even implies his strength and power. To paraphrase the line:

“He’s not threatening him (Crowley) with it (the flaming sword), just reminding him that he can do dangerous and very out-of-character things if he needs to.”

And in the novel itself, it’s implied that after all this time, Aziraphale still has what it takes to fight if he absolutely must, when he picks up the sword in preparation to fight off Satan himself.

“Once you’ve learned how to do it, you never forget.”

There’s no reason to think he doesn’t easily have the ability to be a warrior. And not only a warrior, but a strong one, at that.

Here’s the thing with Aziraphale: he doesn’t want to participate in this fight. He thinks it’s wrong, but he can’t admit it to himself, he can’t just outright say it. He jumps through plenty of mental hoops to try and find reason in the fact that Heaven wants Armageddon to happen.- he thinks his people might just be misguided, their intentions are good, sure, but he wants to show them that this way is better, that there doesn’t need to be another war, that they can save everyone. The beings of Heaven are always Good, right? For him to fully admit that what he thinks they’re doing is wrong is to also admit the flaws of his own angelic nature, that he’s just as capable of wrong, and that’s a terrifying thought. Look at how desperately he wants it all to work out:

But when push came to shove, and the entire world was at stake, and Heaven was all for it to happen despite Aziraphale’s efforts to show them otherwise, he had enough. He chose to not go back to Heaven to fight in the war. He chose to try and save the world, despite his actions being perceived as going directly against the Great Plan. In the series, he literally puts his foot down, looks the Quartermaster in the eye, and tells him: “I have no intention of fighting in any war. I was in the middle of something important, I demand to be returned!” And when nobody was helping him, he went and figured out how to get back himself. He finally had the strength to choose for himself what he thought was right over what was wrong.

I get confused and, even sometimes think to myself, Did we watch the same show?, when I see people interpret Aziraphale’s reluctance to fight as a sign of weakness or passiveness. That very decision he makes, after millennia of not daring to defy his superiors like that, took a lot of courage. It’s quite literally the heart of his character arc.

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #derpy answers #good omens meta #i have no idea how i ended up ranting but here we are lol #you definitely got more than you bargained for when sending this ask anon im sorry skdjfskdjghs #derpy analyses

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beanie-beebo-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Highway To Hell

Series Summary: An all-too-real nightmare and a missing brother sends Dean, Bobby, and Cas on a frantic search. All the while, what may be a bad dream leads to a probable jump-start to Dean's true worst nightmare, Sam jump-starting the end of the world. Set in season 4; consider this a parallel canonverse fic

Previous chapter, Masterlist

Chapter 3

A/N: I believe I didn't post an update this friday, so I'm SUPER sorry about that. My life is super messy rn. Anyway, here it is, a day later 😅

Dean awoke with a gasp and looked frantically around the motel room. He panted and wiped the sweat from his face after realizing where he was. He barely even noticed Bobby watching distantly from the foot of the bed.

"I was going to wake you, but I know you needed some rest, so I figured you could ride it out." Bobby said.

Dean gulped and quickly tried to regain his composure, despite Bobby probably have seeing him at his most vulnerable state.

"How long was I out?" Dean asked.

Bobby looked down at his watch. "About three hours." He replied, pulling his chair back to the small table he was using. "So, while you were sleeping, I figured.. Whatever took or has your brother, it had to leave a trace somewhere. So I searched around in the local papers, scanners, etcetera." -Dean made his way over to Bobby's laptop- "It turns out, demonic omens have been increasing around here within the past couple of days."

"But there was no sulfur, I checked." Dean said.

"Yeah, but we should definitely check it out. I think this may have to do with Sam." Bobby said.

"Why would you say that?" Dean asked.

"These omens aren't your average omens, Dean.. They're mixed in with some stronger storms, and it's almost like they're leaving a direct trail. And they're lasting for days." Bobby explained.

"So maybe a different type of demon or entity?" Dean inferred.

"Correct. Plus, the trail of omens start right here, Pontiac, Illinois," Bobby said.

"..Which is where we are now." Dean finished.

"Mhm. And they end there, Ilchester, Maryland." Bobby said.

"So that's where Sam is." Dean concluded.

"Most likely." Bobby said.

"Then we need to hit the road, now." Dean said.

"Woah woah woah son, we can't hunt something if we don't exactly know what it is." Bobby said, stopping Dean from grabbing his things.

"It's a demon, Bobby. What don't we know?"

"If it's as powerful as it looks, it may need some looking into."

"We have the colt, isn't that good enough?"

"I'm not too sure, but it wouldn't hurt to keep it in mind."

Dean sighed. "Sam could be in serious trouble here, Bobby!"

"Calm down, they wouldn't kill him, not likely. The demons might want him for his abilities."

"Alright, fine. Where do we start?"

~~~~~~~~~~~

They both spent countless hours searching up numerous different types of entities, as well as trying to trace weather specific omens. Many of the omens derived from different demonic presences, which only made everything all more confusing. Some demons seemed to match the profile, but when summoned, they all seemed just as clueless as everyone else. They were of course put to the test, but either they couldn't care a less (knowing that Dean would likely exorcise them anyway), or simply were clueless.

"Hey, did you happen to contact Ruby?" Bobby asked, cleaning up some of the previous ritual scatterings.

"Yeah, but I guess she couldn't get ahold of Sam either, just like I told you with Cas." Dean replied.

"Well, what if she was covering up?" Bobby said.

They both looked at one another and ran to set up the ritual Dean had performed earlier that day. After finishing preparations, they both exchanged another glance before igniting the contents in the small cauldron. Almost instantly, Ruby appeared in the devil trap, appearing more annoyed than ever.

"Are you serious? Honest to whatever God you believe in, I don't know where your Winn Dixie ran off to." She retorted.

"I say guilty." Bobby said.

Ruby scoffed. "Whatever you believe, I honestly don't care."

Dean gestured to her with the knife, firmly holding it against her vessel's throat. "How would you know we wouldn't summon you for something else?" He asked.

"What do you think I am, stupid?" She spat. "Why else would you summon me twice in one day? Now I told you before, I have no freaking idea where your freaky ass brother is hiding."

"Watch your tone," Dean said through gritted teeth. "before I slit that pretty throat of yours."

"You don't scare me, Winchester." She sneered.

"Dean, just wait a minute, she might be our only lead." Bobby said.

He slowly stepped away from the demon, not breaking eye contact once. He kept the knife at a ready stance, ready for any possible move she could try and pull off.

"I'm gonna ask nicely, only this once." Bobby said. "Where, is Sam?"

"Kiss my ass, I already told you dimwits three times."

"Prove it."

"How?"

"That's for you to figure out."

Ruby glared, not having the slightest idea how she could prove herself in this situation. Suddenly, a lightbulb went off in her head.

"Why don't you call your angel lover? I bet he could figure out if I was lying." She said.

Before Bobby and Dean could consider the thought, the flap of wings echoed into the room. They all turned to the trench-coated angel, raising their eyebrows; Ruby smirked knowingly.

"No word on Sam." Cas said, slightly out of breath.

"Well hello to you too, Cas." Dean remarked.

Ruby sarcastically motioned her head forward and cleared her throat.

"While you're here, Cas, I was wondering, could you confirm something for us?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, sure." He replied.

"Ruby?" Dean turned around, gesturing for the demon to continue.

"As I was saying to these hard-heads, I have absolutely no idea where Sam was or is. He seems to have warded off every major creature that could possibly track him down, so I can't go and find him." Ruby explained.

"Well, is she lying?" Dean asked.

"I don't think she is, Dean. I just finished talking with Crowley." Cas said.

"And?"

"And he said that he can't get to Sam either."

"Why would you believe The King Of Crossroads?" Bobby asked.

"Because I threatened something in his possession; he admitted this against his will." Cas replied.

"Okay, another dead end." Dean sighed.

"Wait," Bobby said, turning to Ruby, "When did you last see or hear from Sam?"

"The last time I both heard from him and saw him was over a week ago." She said.

"What for?" Dean asked defensively.

"For demon blood, we were preparing to take down Lillith." Ruby admitted reluctantly.

"What?!" Dean fumed, closing in on her.

"We had no other choice, Dean." She started.

"Oh yes you did, don't pull that with me." He seethed.

"Really?! Because do you know what Lillith has been doing? She's on the final seal. She could break a number of them, at any second." Ruby spat.

Dean started to walk away but then turned back to pound her face into a battered tomato. The only things that held him back were two pairs of arms behind him.

Ruby smeared the blood off of her vessel and flipped her stray hair strands back onto their original sides.

"Punch me again Dean, I bet all of that angst will definitely help you find your brother." She remarked.

"Shut up you bitch!" He shouted, still struggling in Bobby and Cas' grasps.

"Dean, enough. This isn't necessary." Cas said.

"Cas is right, boy. Come on, use your head." Bobby agreed.

Dean grunted as they pulled him onto his feet, anger still coursing through his veins.

"Is that all?" Bobby asked.

"No, but the knight-in-shining-armor wouldn't let me finish." She responded, "Sam kept demanding for more blood. I don't know if it was for the addiction, or if he was going to practice on his own, but he wouldn't tell me."

"Don't tell me.." Dean started.

"He had to get better and I thought maybe some self-practicing would enhance him. So I supplied him, with gallons of the stuff. I got permission from some peers, and we all chipped in." She explained.

"You stupid bitch.." Dean whispered.

"I tried texting him, to ask for progress, but he never got back to me, not once. I couldn't even track him down, not for this whole week." Ruby finished.

"Yeah, that's great." Bobby said.

"So maybe he is just running around rampant from the demon blood. Do you know if he got more?" Castiel asked inquisitively.

"No, I don't. I know just as much as you do." She said.

"So we don't even know if he is in Ilchester." Dean said to Bobby.

"Yeah, but it's worth a shot anyway." Bobby said.

"Are you nuts? What if he isn't there? We don't have any idea how bad this is for him right now! He drank gallons, Bobby." He said.

"I get it, I do. Sam's your brother. But we have to treat this like you were hunting the demon. You didn't know what you were looking for, remember?" Bobby reminded him.

"Yeah, but-"

"But nothing. You followed anything remotely weird, and eventually figured out a pattern. Maybe this is what we need to do with Sam. We will find him, okay?"

Dean sighed and looked at the ground. This was always the hardest, staying calm while your other half was in danger. Without Bobby, he probably wouldn't be able to.

"Okay." Dean said quietly.

Bobby smiled and patted Dean's shoulder in reassurance.

"Awe, how sweet. Now, can you let me go?"

Castiel walked over to Ruby, pulling out his angel blade from his sleeve. She looked up slightly, staring straight at the silver blade. He glared momentarily before kneeling to the floor and scraped off some of the trap's paint. Cas slowly stood up, looking her straight in the eyes. Ruby glared back at him and disappeared.

"Would you like me to come with you?" Cas asked.

"I think that would be a smart idea, could you ward all of us?" Bobby asked in response.

Cas raised his palms as a bright light filled the room, causing slight discomfort in both hunters. The light quickly faded and the men searched their bodies for the warding.

"Is that it?" Bobby asked.

"Yes, you are warded from the inside." Cas replied.

"Alright then, let's go." Dean said with slight pain to his voice.

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