#you’re a dark horse mr fell

[igguana-art0-0]

well, you still got one of em

[the-sharpened-pencil]

Nina to azi: how’s your… naked man friend?

Crowley:

[spooky-spicy-skeleton]

After his “naked man friend,” earlier in the show, something along the lines of, “Mr. Fell’s got hoes.”

i still wonder what nina thought when she saw crowley waiting alone by his car and aziraphale coming out of the bookshop some minutes later with a grandpa

[neil-gaiman]

hello sir, in the scene in the coffee shop when Nina asks about Aziraphale’s naked man friend, does she say “you’re a dark horse mr. Fell” like the book shop, or “you’re a dark horse mr. Phale” like Aziraphale. because in a clip of that on youtube from the prime video channel it’s captioned “Phale” but to me it makes for sense for Nina to be referencing the name on the bookshop.

thank you :)

Fell.

[bellarkeselection]

Giving Second Chances

Gifs above don't belong to me they belong to their rightful owner

Wattpad request from Silverose365 Reader is a trouble teen the state is having trouble with so after multiple failed foster families the state calls John. The reader accidentally messed up on a job and gets called out until Rip makes a different choice than her previous foster family's.

John and Rip followed Sheriff Haskell out into one of the barns on the ranch. The three stops in the entrance seeing someone peaking their head over one of the hay bails. John slowly walked forward trying to not scare the girl off that looked to be a young teenager reminding him of meeting young Rip. “Hey there, kid. I ain’t gonna hurt you. Do you wanna come talk with us?”

“Where’s the girl from?” Rip crossed his arms looking at Sheriff Haskell.

He responded to John’s right hand. “She’s been bounced from foster home to another. She’s got a bad streak of breaking the law. I got a call saying the foster system was sending her to him until she bolted. Thankfully she ended up where they we’re taking her. Bringing her to John.”

Lifting my gaze up to the older cowboy guy wearing a tan cowboy hat I watched him bend down to her level. “Are you going to send me back to foster care….I don’t do good in that place. They all say I’m too old and reckless.” I had been moved around where I just started running away every time they sent me back in the system.

“I ain’t sending ya back. My name is John Dutton, what’s your name darlin’?” The rancher asked me offering his hand and I allowed him to pull me to stand up with him seeing another guy by the sheriff that was dressed in black with dark hair and hard eyes staring at me.

I nervously responded back to him. “Y/n. My name is Y/n, sir…what are doing now?”

“You come work for me.” John said looking at the man calling his name so I could put it with his face before he left us in the barn together. “Rip, you’re gonna teach her the way I did you.”

It had been a few months since that day and this is the longest that I have ever been in compared to my other foster homes. Placing a dark brown hat on my head I slide my brown boots on heading to the Yellowstone barn. Throwing a saddle on Lioyd’s horse I started tying it on until I heard one of the bunkhouse cowboys coming over to me. I believe Walker was his name. “It looks like a a cowgirl doesn’t know how a saddle goes on a horse.”

“What…what did I do?” I panicked beginning to twist the sterups and the back sinch backwards before I ran my hands through my hair.

Walker came over on his horse. “You put the saddle on backwards kid.”

“Crap, crap.” I mumbled under my breath quickly fixing it until John came over to me seeing that I avoided his gaze mumbling to myself unknown that he could hear me. “How could I put the entire saddle on backwards. That was stupid. I should have known that.”

It wasn’t the first the older rancher had seen her be hard on herself after she made some mistakes or didn’t be s quick as what the cowboys had told her to do something. And she would end up beating herself up over failing. John just hoped the girl saw that she was a good hand like he did. Because she was almost the same way when he found Rip years ago.

Walking through the barn I nodded to my boss Rip Wheeler who was walking with his horse when he noticed me. He climbed up on his horse addressing in my direction. “Y/n, got saddle Mr. Dutton’s horse. You’ll be riding it today with us to learn how to ride.”

Running inside the barn I took the reins of the boss’s horse tying the rope on the side of the wooden fence. Tossing the saddle over the horse I quickly tied it together. Putting me foot in the stirrups up Rip called my name. “Woah you think you’re forgetting something kiddo.” Shifting my gaze down to the ground I hadn’t noticed my hat fell off during the process.

“Ah shit…sorry sir.” Snatching it up I placed it on my head quick climbing back on the horse knowing he didn’t like wasting daylight and I always followed his instructions as fast as he said them.

Rip had me following behind him where I griped the reins in my hands bouncing with the horse watching the others herding the cattle in front of us. Normally he was leading the pack but not today. “Go herd up the ones on the side that get loose. You got that?” He kicked his horse to go when I nodded in understanding.

Running down the valley I followed after one cafe that got loose leading it back to the group. Staying close to the group another one got loose where I grabbed my rope throwing it over it head trying to lead it back but it just picked up sped. I screamed when it managed to pull me off my horse and I fell into the dirt. “No, no,…ah fuck!”

“Woah girl, are you alright?” Lioyd came over on his horse holding the reins of mine since it ran off towards him so he brought my horse back over to me.

Holding my right wrist I winced when I tried to bend it a little. “I think I just tweaked my wrist a bit….I thought I roped it the right way.”

“You roped it around the neck when it should have been around the waist so he wouldn’t run on ya. Climb back on your horse and help us finish this out.” Rip responded sternly beside his older friend.

Scurring to my feet I put one foot in the stirrup using my left hand to support most of my weight than my right. I should have done better, sir.” I apologize when Rip glared at me watching me ride off with Lioyd figuring that she meant well.

Once nightfall had come and everyone had their horses up for the night I didn’t come down to the bunkhouse for dinner since I was staying in the spare room of Rip and Beth’s house. Brushing my hair away from my face I had banded my wrist as best as I could and put everything I had in the duffel bag foster care had given to me. I just needed to wait until everyone went to bed to run rather then wait till morning already knowing what would happen. I had messed up way more than someone my age should. “I’m too old to get adopted….I will be better off just waiting until I’m eighteen. Only two more years left being someone else’s problem..”

“When I said don’t think you deserve this. I meant it literally but I didn’t you’d run from it.” Whipping my head around I gasped through tears seeing Rip was leaning in the doorway of my bedroom.

Croaking through tears I scooted up against the pillow and headband avoiding his gaze. “How did you know I’d be here?”

“Cause you didn’t come down for dinner and you ain’t missed a meal since the day you came here. You want to tell me what’s going on with you?” He presses on with his tone being both stern but went softer when he could hear me lightly crying in front of him.

Hugging my knees to my chest I buried my face into them sobbing even more when I struggle to get the words out already sensing what he was going to say next. “I’m a screw up here, Mr. Wheeler. I can’t do half the jobs you give me right…I don’t have great confidence even when I put in as much effort as I can. You see me exactly like everyone else does…a reckless teenager who won’t make it any longer in getting adopted. Cause I don’t follow directions good….so you’re done with me. You’re going to send me back tomorrow.”

“Where the hell did you get an idea like that, sweetheart?” He blurted out raising his voice in shock.

Peaking over my knees with my hair in my eyes I whispered back to him. “That’s what every family I have been with does. Why would you be any different to me?”

“Because you are the hardest working foster kid I have seen. You’ve got good manners and put in almost more effort than any of those bunkhouse boys do. And you ain’t any reckless than most teenagers are.” He came over and sat beside me on the bed removing his black hat when he went to take something out of his jacket. He unfolded a paper and handed it to me. “You are a darn good kid, Y/n. I am hoping to help you improve your confidence in time being here.”

Scanning my eyes over the paper in my small hands I couldn’t hardly believe it. “You want to adopt me..but I….thank you Rip.” Flinging my arms around his neck he was taken back not used to seeing me giving any kind of emotion like this.

“You’re welcome, darling. But promise you will still work as hard as you would if you weren’t gonna be my kid.” He hugged me briefly until he made me look in his eyes when he barely broke the embrace.

Nodding through happy tears I grinned up at the cowboy and lead hand of John Dutton. “Don’t worry I will..uh dad.”

Footsteps came down the hallway where we both glanced over over shoulders noticing that it was his wife. “You better call me mom and come eat this hamburger helper otherwise you’ll face the bear.”

“Yes ma’am.” I jumped off his lap rushing down the hallway making it to the kitchen table almost shoving food into my mouth overjoyed to actually have a place to call home.

Beth smiled at her husband when he stood by her in the hallway watching you. “She’s our kid now, baby.”

“She’s our second change at one and I gotta say she’s a pretty good one.” He responded looping his hand with hers giving her a gentle and the pair joined you at the dinner table.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[evita-shelby]

The Devil of Small Heath

Kelpie!Tommy Shelby x witch!reader

Gif by @zerenitysblog

Tw: mentions of suicide

You first see him by the cut. Wet and with a dark mane and his eyes blue as the sky.

He is a ghost, roaming the bank of the canals at night and bringing death to those who see him.

A black horse who drove all those who tried to capture him ---to see if he can grant wishes---to a watery grave.

The Devil of Small Heath.

A kelpie, a real one going by the human nature of his eyes.

You had no idea magic still inhabited this land.

Your dad used to tell you stories about a kelpie who fell in love with a romani princess with a touch of magic and that they lived in a boat until their son, a kelpie like his father, decided to live in a house of brick and wood just down the street of him.

They had beautiful and strong children, but when the kelpie left in search for cleaner waters, his wife, a witch just like you, drowned herself thinking he would return.

This was one of them, a Shelby. But which one?

“I do not seek to ride you, I only wanted to see if the rumors are true.” You speak clearly, making sure the water spirit knew you meant him no harm.

The horse stands still by the bank, huffing in warning as you come closer, so you reveal your true self.

With every step you skin gains a sort of luminosity, your nails and the tips of your fingers turn black as his shiny coat and by the time you reach him, you stand there as a witch.

“I am just as human as you.” Your father had been human, just as his mother had been. Both were lured by magic when it began to make their old blood sing.

It is an intoxicating feeling, thrilling and sweet and filling you with something akin to desire. After all, kelpies use their allure to kill their victims.

He stares, hesitant to let you come near him, hesitant to stay.

For a moment you think he has given in and let you touch him, but then he runs back to the water for safety.

You do not see him again until you pass by him in the street, but he is not in his horse form, this time he is human.

So, Tommy had been the one to inherit his father’s and grandfather’s magic? You should’ve have known it from the way misfortune clings to him like his fine coat.

He makes your blood sing just as then, only this time you are among the ladies of Small Heath who find their heads turned towards Thomas Shelby as if he were the sun.

Only this time he turns to look at you as if you had called out to him.

Magic calls to magic so it seems.

Unlike that night at the Cut he doesn’t bolt, instead he offers to walk you to your home. You accept wanting to know everything you could about the kelpie walking beside you.

“So, you are the Devil of Small Heath then?” you ask quietly as the two of you pretend this is nothing out of the ordinary, just to people wanting to get to know each other.

“In many ways I suppose.” Tommy answered regretting his decision. “And you’re the witch on 76 Watery Lane?”

“And proud of it, Mr. Shelby.” You said with a lovely smile and make a peace offering. “Your secret is safe with me as long as mine is safe with you.”

“Then call me Tommy, y/n.”

[butchhamlet]

a scene-by-scene playlist for macbeth--one song for each scene. you know the drill by now. track list with rationale under the cut; special thanks to @blackcatarts for help with the selection :3 happy halloween season, y'all.

track list + rationale

act one

1.1 (the witches enter) - Everybody Wants to Rule the World (Lorde Cover) (feels self-explanatory, plus the vibe of it feels like panning in over a foggy battlefield)

1.2 (duncan finds out macbeth slayed) - Aneurysm by Nirvana (found this one on this macbeth playlist a while back and it has remained a macbeth song to me forever and ever; the manic energy fits the battlefield fervor here)

1.3 (macbeth and banquo meet the witches) - They by Jem (“and it’s ironic too // ‘cause what we tend to do // is act on what they say // and then it is that way… who are they? where are they? how can they possibly know all this?”)

1.4 (duncan names malcolm his successor) - Money Money Money by ABBA (he’s plotting! he’s planning! stars, hide your fires! look just trust me on this one)

1.5 (lady macbeth reads the letter & reunites with macbeth) - She’s Kerosene by the Interrupters (every lyric of this song is about lady macbeth.)

1.6 (lady macbeth welcomes duncan to her castle) - Silver Platters by Les Gold (“no need to be cordial // you could be immortal // if you take the risk // could you take the risk?” + “step out on the dance floor // this is what you asked for // such a pretty face // what was it underneath the mask for?”)

1.7 (the macbeths argue) - Fight For Me by AlicebanD (macbeths song of all time!!!)

act two

2.1 (dagger scene) - Disturbia by Rihanna (the supernatural begins to bleed into the world! will someone please direct a macbeth where this comes on during this scene) 

2.2 (post-murder argument) - Prowl Great Cain by The Mountain Goats (very macbeth song. placed here for “and i feel guilty, but i can’t feel ashamed!” & mention of sleepwalking & betrayal & prowling [cf. his line about tarquin in 2.1])

2.3 (porter scene, duncan’s death comes out) - Daniel in the Den by Bastille (“felled in the night by the ones you think you love // they will come for you” + “and for every king that died // they would crown another”)

2.4 (hey. don’t cry. duncan’s horses ate each other) - When He Died by Lemon Demon (literally a song about the world getting fucked up after a guy dies what can i say)

act three

3.1 (banquo gets suspicious) - Aha! by Imogen Heap (entire song about people pretending to be better than they are, including an actual serial killer. + “cost you to keep me quiet” with banquo…)

3.2 (the macbeths are fracturing) - The Horror of Our Love by Ludo (EXTREMELY MACBETHS SONG. here because this is the scene where they start to switch places, with him the one buying into violence as the answer & telling her not to worry about gory details)

3.3 (banquodeath) - Bury A Friend by Billie Eilish (rdj meme voice: he has murdered his friend)

3.4 (banquet scene) - Bird Song by Florence + the Machine (song about killing the witness and then being haunted by that witness and completely losing your shit trying to shut their ghost up…)

3.5 (hecate) - Hecate by Wendy Rule (i don’t give a shit about this scene i’m sorry. interpolation boooooo)

3.6 (lennox talks politics) - Dark Doo Wop by MS MR (foggy apocalyptic ones. “it’s all gone to shit // it’s out of our hands”)

act four

4.1 (double double toil & trouble) - Hot Knife by Fiona Apple (i’m a hot knife i’mmmm a hot knife i’m a hot knife he’s a pat of butter… you’re just gonna have to trust me on this one. my school’s macbeth had heavy drumming all through this scene and it’s associated with this song to me forever)

4.2 (macduff’s family is murdered) - Pretty Little Things by the Crane Wives (songs about pretty/fragile things being destroyed because of men’s betrayal… thinking about how lady macduff blames her husband for abandoning her to the wolves :( )

4.3 (malcolm and macduff) - All or Nothing by the Dream Masons (songs that are about both malcolm and macduff. the first verse especially is very malcolm, as a young prince stranded among enemies; the chorus is especially macduff-deciding-to-kill-macbeth-or-die-trying)

act five

5.1 (lady macbeth sleepwalks) - Tymps (The Sick in the Head Song) by Fiona Apple (LADY MACBETH GUILT SONG! “those boon times went bust // my feet of clay, they dried to dust // the red isn’t the red we painted, it’s just rust” w her imaginary bloodstains, + “i’m either so sick in the head i need to be bled dry to quit // or i just really used to love him // i sure hope that’s it”)

5.2 (the scots and english gather) - Marked Man by Mieka Pauley (songs i considered for 4.3 as well. they are coming to Get His Ass)

5.3 (macbeth preparing to fight) - For the Departed by Shayfer James (songs about knowing you’re about to get got but what does it matter when you’re already damned)

5.4 (the fucking wood is moving guys) - Kingdom Fall by Claire Wyndham (songs i almost put on the prior scene, for “i’d rather watch my kingdom fall // i want it all or not at all,” but eventually i placed it here because… well, we are watching the kingdom fall, my guy)

5.5 (tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow) - Drowning in the Sound by Amanda Palmer (okay, this is kind of because of “sound and fury,” but also it’s soooo macbeth act 5. “and the body is a temple but the temple is a prison and the prison’s overcrowded and the inmates know it’s flooded and the body politic is getting sicker by the second” + “do you ever feel like this should be officially the end? // and that you should be the one to do the ending, but you can’t?” + the inevitability…)

5.6 (scots + english arrive) - Lion’s Teeth by the Mountain Goats (song about trying to kill a powerful and tyrannical figure. also sounds like a fight scene)

5.7 (macduff and macbeth come face to face) - Bury Me Face Down by grandson (so obsessed with how firmly this guy would rather go down fighting than do literally anything easier)

5.8 (macbeth’s head presented, malcolm crowned) - King of the World by WAR*HALL (a new king is crowned after one dies by violence. fleance is still out there somewhere. the cycle of violence continues. this one doesn’t work unless you imagine the witches watching pityingly/sinisterly in the background)

[vpgoldenrod]

Nina: “You’re a dark horse, Mr. Fell.”

Crowley: “Girl, you have no idea.”

[painted-kneecaps]

Hello P&P&T enjoyers !!

As warned, i do not have a chapter for you today. i’m taking a short break for my sanity- but don’t worry, we’ll be back next week !!

in the meantime, here’s a snippet from the upcoming chapter !! Enjoy !! :))

///

“You getting tired yet, son? Perhaps you should go inside and rest for a bit, it’s getting real late.”

“I’m not tired,” He protested, clutching the reigns protectively, and shot an accusing glance at the driver, as though he might try to take them from him.

Mr. Yogi chuckled. “Alright, kid,” He said “Don’t blame me when you’re falling asleep at the wheel.”

He scoffed. Of course he wouldn’t do such a thing, that would be irresponsible. His father had trusted him to drive them home, and he was going to get them there safely.

Mr. Yogi yawned and stretched on the bench beside him, his joints popping loudly. His eyes were drooping, and he crossed one ankle over the other and leaned back, tugging his hat down over his eyes.

“Well, if you insist,” He sighed “Don’t mind if I take a little catnap. Wake me if you need anything, kid.”

He had no intention of doing so. He was a better driver than Mr. Yogi anyway.

After a few moments of shuffling for the most comfortable position possible on the swaying carriage bench, Mr. Yogi was still, and the only sound coming from him was a soft, whistling snore. Annoying, but tolerable. At least he didn’t have to listen to the man’s boring stories anymore.

It was dark, and the only sounds besides Mr. Yogi were the clop of the horses hooves on the packed earth, the jingle of their harnesses and the creak of the carriage wheels, accompanied by the everywhere trill of crickets and the distant hoot of an owl. It was quite peaceful, he thought dreamily, and quite without his noticing, his own consciousness began to slip away as he wondered idly whether he might bother Cook for a mug of hot chocolate when they finally made it home.

He was startled back awake by a loud crack, and the shrill, terrified whinny of the horses as they began to bolt, ripping the reigns from his hand.

“Oh, for- Get inside, boy!” Mr. Yogi shouted, gesturing wildly toward the hatch that led into the carriage with one hand, while the other grasped desperately for the reigns.

He couldn’t move. He sat, frozen as Mr. Yogi caught the reigns, glancing wildly over his shoulder. “There’s someone behind us,” He said grimly, unlatching the small holster at his hip and curling his lip in frustration “Bandits, most likely. What did I tell you, kid? Get in- AUGH!”

Another loud crack. Mr. Yogi screamed. The pistol fell from his grasp onto the bench, and Mr. Yogi fell from the bench onto the road.

The boy sat for a moment, stunned; frozen in horror. His mind was screaming for him to do something, to catch the reigns, to call for help, to do something-

Why wasn’t his father awake? He wondered, out of his wits with fear.

More loud cracks. Gunshots, he recognized them as, now- the bandits were shooting at the carriage, shooting at him, at his father-

His father had trusted him to get them home safely. He had trusted him.

A strange calm settled over him. His ears rang. He tasted bile.

He picked up the pistol beside him on the bench, and turned.

He could see the bandit now. It was just one man on horseback, hooded, his face obscured and he was gaining on them. The man lifted his pistol, cocked it, and the boy’s heart leapt into his throat as he raised and steadied his own. He held his breath, squeezed his eyes shut, and-

The hatch opened “Miles?” His father’s voice “Miles! What in the-”

A hand grasped the barrel of the gun.

Two shots.

A scream.

Something heavy hit the top of the carriage.

He opened his eyes.

His father was slumped, face down atop the carriage, blood pooling beneath him.

“Father?” He said hoarsely, dumbly. There was blood on his shirt. There was a gun in his hand.

There was blood on his shirt. There was blood on the top of the carriage. There was blood pooling beneath his father’s body. There was blood.

There was a gun in his hand.

He screamed.

The carriage jolted, then tilted. The horses screeched, and wood cracked as they pulled away, and the carriage rolled and rolled-

And everything went black.

[ollivandersart]

Maybe this has been pointed out before, but I noticed that after Nina’s “You’re a dark horse, Mr. Fell”, Crowley and Aziraphale go to the bookshop and Crowley places his glasses across the face of Azi’s black horse statue. Not really sure what it implies, but from what I’ve heard, everything in this show is done for a reason :)

[bunnyscar]

The Invincible Spell

Part 2: Fairen

They said it would be easy. They said it would be fulfilling, that he would gain everything he wanted, that he would never be the same after this.

It was not easy. He was not strong enough to kill with one blow, and the knife had felt increasingly heavy in his hands. It was not fulfilling. Once the deed was done, all he felt was a dull emptiness and a deep horror.

Kemp gazed down at the knife in his hand, dark with blood. Blood that he had shed. The blood of the king.

They had been correct about one thing. He would never be the same.

Kemp never found out exactly what methods Trace used on Mr Torrace, but by the next morning, he had been released from his cell, given a new outfit and a haircut, and had signed a form declaring his freedom. Shortly after that, he found himself following Trace out of the cell and towards a nearby stable where guest’s horses were kept. Trace led out two black horses.

“You know how to ride?” he asked.

Kemp nodded and swung himself into the saddle. As they trotted away from the stable, Trace said, “We’ll head for Fairen. It’s the closest town to here, and my colleagues are waiting there.”

Kemp nodded, and they kicked their horses into a gallop. The arena fell behind them, the noise of slaves and cheering growing distant, the smell of sweat and horse manure drifting away. Kemp glanced back only once. By that time, they had reached the top of one of the hills surrounding the arena, and from there it looked no bigger than an acorn. It finally dawned on him that he really was leaving that place. He really was free.

They made their way over several rolling hills before they reached the main road, which Trace said would lead them directly to Fairen. For a long stretch after that they rode in silence.

His newfound freedom disoriented Kemp. Though he had only been a gladiator for a little over two years, it had felt like a lifetime. He had never expected to escape it either. Never expected to wear fine clothes again, to feel clean, to breathe fresh air, and to see anything besides the four walls of his cell or the curved walls of the arena.

He lifted his face and closed his eyes, letting the breeze flow over his cheeks and ruffle his hair. It was much warmer here than in his homeland. Back home, they layered up with coats and fur boots, but here only a light tunic was needed. Grass grew abundant and green here, small wildflowers creating splashes of color in the fields. His home seemed almost barren in comparison, with its scraggly little bushes and rocky ground. Home…what would they think if they knew he’d been freed? The council would be furious….

“Mr. Trace,” he said, forcefully shutting out thoughts of his homeland.

“Just Trace is fine,” his companion said with a smile.

“Very well. Trace, you said we are meeting with your colleagues. Are they also imperial knights?”

“Well, one of them is. The other is not officially a knight but is helping us out, similar to how you agreed to fight with us.”

“So I won’t be made an imperial knight?”

“No, though you can eventually become one if you would like. Normally, imperial knights can only be appointed by the king, and they work separately from the normal soldiers. With the rise of the Daems, however, we’ve been outnumbered; and the king has given us permission to recruit anyone who has skill in fighting, even if they aren’t officially imperial knights or soldiers.”

“I see. You’re hiring me as a mercenary?” Kemp asked.

“I suppose that’s one way to look at it,” Trace admitted. “But you’re a free man now, Kemp. If you ever decide not to fight the Daems and want to leave us, we won’t hinder you. We could even help you find a way back to your homeland.”

Kemp glanced sharply at him. He must have heard from Torrace that Kemp was from another country. “I’m never going back there,” Kemp muttered.

Trace paused, then merely said, “I see. Well, we greatly appreciate your helping us.” They went at a steady pace the rest of the day, stopping briefly for lunch, and arrived at Fairen just as the sun was setting.

Fairen was a large and messy town. Its narrow streets were full of people and dirt, its buildings sat squished together, and the air was filled with clashing scents of food and filth. Despite the bewildering mess of people and winding roads, Trace seemed seemed to know exactly where he was heading and led them in a zig-zagging path until they’d reached an inn at the other side of town.

A creaking sign above the door read “The Lucky Tavern.” It didn’t look that lucky to Kemp. The building’s wood was old and peeling, and it sagged to one side, as if it were leaning on the surrounding buildings for support. A rotten smell wafted from behind the inn. Kemp gave Trace a dubious look, but followed him inside without question.

The tavern was a bustling and raucous place, full of grisly, bearded men. A group of them stood around a fireplace in one corner, singing lustily and clanking their tankards together, while several other customers sat at tables, laughing. Meanwhile, a barmaid weaved her way around tables and bodies, dexterously balancing several glasses on her hands and arms. Kemp found it rather overwhelming. And the heavy smell of beer and smoke made it all the more suffocating.

Trace guided Kemp through the mess until they reached a table at the back, a little removed from the rest. A tall man wearing two large swords strapped to his back sat at the table, talking in a low voice to a woman with long, braided hair.

“Hullo!” Trace called to them as he approached.

The two looked up. The woman’s face brightened and she smiled warmly, while the man eyed Kemp doubtfully.

“This is Smith and Sheri, my colleagues. This here is Kemp. He comes from another land and was a gladiator for a few years, but he’s agreed to help us fight the Daems,” Trace said.

Smith, the man with the swords, scowled. “Isn’t he a bit young?” he said gruffly.

“He’s young, but he’s quite skilled with the sword,” Trace assured him.

Sheri, the woman, shook Kemp’s hand eagerly and said cheerfully, “It’s so good to meet you, Kemp! And we’re really grateful for your help.”

Kemp stared at her. For one thing, her hair reached down almost to her ankles, and would probably be longer if it were unbraided. More striking than her hair, however, were her wings. They sprouted from her shoulders and trailed down her back, clear and thin like a dragonfly’s.

Smith noticed Kemp’s gaze and said hotly, “It’s rude to stare, you know.”

“You’re...a fairy?” Kemp asked Sheri, ignoring Smith.

“Indeed I am! Have you never seen one before?”

“No….”

“They don’t have them in your own land?”

“In my land, fairies live hidden away in the forest, or else they live in cages, as slaves. Creatures such as fairies, elves, or dwarves are seen as inferior beings.”

Smith’s eyes flashed with anger. “Oy! Whatever your people think of fairies, you’d better not treat Sheri that way! She ain’t your slave.”

Kemp glanced at Smith from the corner of his eye and said flatly, “You needn’t worry. I’m very well aware I have no superiority over any of you.”

Sheri dug her elbow into Smith’s side and hissed into his ear, “Have some tact! He was a gladiator, remember? He’s probably been a slave himself until recently, you know!”

Trace cleared his throat and was about to speak when the tavern door burst open and a soldier strode inside. He was decked out in metal armor, a fancy helmet on his head and a flashy sword hanging at his side. Glancing at the man’s sword, Kemp saw that it lacked the insignia he’d seen on Trace’s.

The soldier walked up to Trace. “Imperial knight, sir, we have a report of Daems gathering outside the town walls, sir. Captain is requesting backup, sir,” the soldier said, saluting. He kept glancing nervously at Trace’s face, then away again. Now that he was closer, Kemp could see that his face was clean-shaven and young. Perhaps he was a new recruit.

“All right. Take us there immediately,” Trace responded. He flashed a grin at Kemp. “Well, looks like we’ll get to see you in action sooner than we thought.”

Kemp shrugged and grasped the hilt of his sword. All the better for him. He’d been wanting to know more about these Daems and see if they really were that strong. If he was lucky, perhaps he would finally find a monster that could defeat him.

Part 1

[on-till-morning]

The Final 15 Min: You’re a dark horse Mr Fell

Or: Azirawhy?

I’ve spent the better part of this weekend in bed with my cat, drinking cocoa, rewatching scenes from GO and reading and writing thousands of words of s2 meta, so first of all, thank you again Terry Pratchett, Neil Gaimon and this incredible fandom - you’re all geniuses and as a result I am literally living the dream. Secondly, after writing and rewriting my own extremely long meta a dozen times I’ve decided instead to link to the other metas that have essentially already said everything I wanted to say and condense my comments beneath them. I’ve also added my theories for season 3 based on my analysis of s2. However, despite my best intentions and having just using the word ‘condensed’ this turned out to be pretty long anyway, so you can find all this and more under the jump below.

My favorite possible explanations for the ending:

1) Aziraphale is lying to protect Crowley

I first found this theory here and here

And then it’s brilliantly explained with great attention to detail here. This piece includes SO many details that I had missed from the convo, referencing back to scenes from s1 as well as 2. Hats off and round of applause to this author. Just, wow.

I love this theory so much and a part of me wants it desperately to be canon - it explains away all of Azirphale’s foot-in-mouth shortcomings and cringey to downright horrifying wtf moments from the final scene, but after watching the final scenes 26495362893 times I’m landing more on the side that:

2) Az is being expertly manipulated by Metatron, and these shortcomings are all of his character flaws coming up and out in one horrible regurgitatation.

Extremely detailed and thorough multi piece meta going into exactly how Metatron is manipulating him and why it works here.

Briefer but also clear and thorough single post essay here.

3) Or some combination of the two.

Again, having watched this countless times I just do not buy that every single think Az says in the final scene is part of a master plan to deliberately break up with Crowley, but I do think

He’s as scared as he’s relieved/excited

And I don’t know if he’s actually relieved/excited but he’s definitely confused, surprised and increasingly panicked when Crowley insults him, turns down the offer and leaves, which is part of why I don’t think it’s entirely option #1

He is trying to stop the love confession or at least delay it for another time when Metatron is not standing right outside the door (hold that thought!)

And finally there are some lines that just don’t make sense, even from the angel who we’ve heard spout all kinds of nonsense about how “I am good and you are, unfortunately, evil.” Yes, I might buy that he might still think heaven is ultimately good and “the side of light” that’s just been run very poorly by “bad angels” who aren’t as good as Aziraphale at knowing what god really wants in the situation (as he tells himself in the Job episode). But “I’ll run it and you can be my second in command.”???? A blank stare at “if heaven ends life on earth it’ll be just as dead as if he’ll ended it”??? However, this brings me too…

The character arc we didn’t see

I love this post about expectations as a fandom and what we’re actually shown versus what we as ravenous shippers want and expect to see and couldn’t agree more.

What were we actually shown about Aziraphale and where he’s at with his repression and denial? Right in episode 1 Jim says “You know what it’s like when you don’t know anything at all and yet you’re totally certain that everything would be better if you were near one particular person?” and Aziraphale panics, jumps upright and begins backing away frantically while saying “NO. I have no idea what that feels like. What makes you say that?”

We haven’t seen Aziraphale have his come to Jesus moment yet (pun intended) in season 2. While we get to see Crowley hit over the head with the ‘holy shit this is romantic love’ anvil, Aziraphale has a different realization coming and we’ve already been told what it will be.

It’s not “they look at each other and realize they were made for each other.”

It’s “they realize they had misunderstood each other.”

I think in many ways Aziraphale is already unconsciously acting like they are a couple, possibly more so than Crowley, but we don’t see him acknowledge his feelings out loud. We see his evolution through the 3 mini episodes to go from everything is black and white to life and Crowley and even himself are made up of shades of gray, but apparently that wasn’t enough to finally seal the deal for his ultimate “realize they had misunderstood each other” moment, otherwise the season wouldn’t have ended the way it did. Despite how far he’s come he hasn’t fully yet come to terms with his deeply rooted belief that demons=bad or mostly bad and angels=good or at least better than demons. I think that those beliefs showed their face in the worst possible way during that final argument, and that’s part of why Crowley was such a hard no to the whole situation. It’s not just a no to going back to heaven as an angel, it’s also ‘I can’t believe you still think that way about me.’

I don’t, however, think Metatron knew things would go that deep. I don’t think he knows either of them very well at all, but he knows Crowley would never go back to being an angel and he felt confident enough to manipulate Aziraphale (once on his own) into proposing just that and then he pushed them together before Aziraphale could process anything and stood back and let the explosion happen.

There are a couple very well written posts already out there about how the problem is not so much miscommunication as it is fundamentally not agreeing, how deep down Aziraphale doesn’t like that Crowley is a demon and still thinks of him as the angel he was, and how Crowley twisted the knife in Aziraphale’s insecurities that I think all add up to spell out this story really well. To this I’ll add, I think they both condescend and in ways look down on each other. While still being very much in love. I want to keep this short so I’ll try to stick to one example: in the Job episode Crowley said “you’re an angel, you can’t be tempted” while obviously tempting him (“you’re an angel, I don’t think you can do the wrong thing”) which is gentle but also mocking, because Crowley is literally tempting him in that moment. Then there’s times when he’s less gentle (“how could someone so clever be so stupid?”). From Aziraphale we have endless examples of his “holier than thou” attitude. Yes I think some of it is part of their coded-spy-talk but when you say and behave a certain way for years let alone eons even if some part of you knows you’re joking it becomes real.

To sum up - in season 2 we got our realization that they were made for each other from Crowley for sure and maybe from Aziraphale - I mean, those were a LOT of heart eyes in the bookshop before Metatron arrived and the whole grabbing his arm thing when B talks about finding something better than choosing sides. But the realizing they’ve misunderstood each other is what we’ve been set up for in season 3 and I think the misunderstanding is on both sides.

Final thoughts:

The coffee or death metaphor as literal - YES. Both in the first time we see it where Michael is threatening death and Metatron arrives to offer coffee, and secondly when Aziraphale asks “where would I get my coffee” (I.e. not die) and Metatron answers by not answering and saying instead (summarized) “we know you’ve partnered with Crowley, come to heaven and he can be an angel again and you can work together - that’s where you’ll get your “coffee” (as opposed to the (false) other option which is death).

I don’t feel like enough’s been said about the final scene with Metatron in the elevator. His whole body sighs as if in relief and he gives Aziraphale A Look.

This whole body sigh sigh says to me “thank fuck I finally got this gd angel in the gd elevator” and the final look over at him seems to have a taste of “what trouble is this idiot going to cause me next?”

Oh Metatron, you have no idea 😈. Because Aziraphale is definitely planning something, from the second he heard the phrase “second coming.” We already know he would stop Armageddon alone if he has too.

Because it’s all about protecting for Aziraphale. Did anyone else think it was odd that Aziraphale, who was soooo keen and literally bouncing up and down with joy at having The Mystery of Jim/Gabriel to solve, suddenly switched to dropping the mystery entirely and it never comes up again? Then on one of my many rewatches I realized Aziraphale was 100% in detective mode until Shax casually mentions that Crowley is risking destruction for him, which is the first Aziraphale has heard of Crowley being in trouble. Michael Sheen gives us the eyebrow raise of infamy and seems pretty cool, calm and collected about it but Aziraphale then lies to Crowley about anything strange happening and goes on to then frantically plan the greatest shopkeepers and trade association monthly meeting of all time and never questions Gabriel about who else he was at the bar with and never mentions The New Clue again. He drops solving the mystery entirely and throws himself into the ball. Because he wants to dance with Crowley?!?!! 😍🥹🥰 Maybe. But if Nina and Maggie get together then heavens suspicions are allayed, and Aziraphale has just learned that Crowey’s entire existence is in danger. He can’t protect him from hell but he can try to get Maggie and Nina together and protect him from heaven. That doesn’t happen but what happens instead? THE Voice of god herself, the top of the bureaucracy, shows up and offers Aziraphale the very protection for Crowley that he just tried to Jane Austin into existence?! Regardless of whether he fully believed Metatron, partially believed, or is 100% playing him for a sucker, he believes going along with Metatron will protect Crowley as well as “make a difference.” Which one is the main goal and which the happy side effect? Is there a difference? Does Aziraphale have any conscious awareness over what he’s doing? I have no explanation for the bitter “I forgive you” and have not yet read a theory that resonates.

[zalrb]

Oh you’re watching Bojack! Did you try watching it before? I feel like I remember saying you couldn't get into it, though probably thinking of something else. How do you like it so far, seeing you’re on season 3 now?

Yeah, i watched a couple of episodes of season 1 and didn’t find it funny but I was telling @rabbitsrants about the sopranos and she was talking about how there seemed to be some similarities between bojack and tony, which makes sense now that I’m watching it because I view bojack in the tony soprano mould, so when I finished my sopranos rewatch I decided to give it another go.

It’s definitely an interesting viewing experience because I recognize that it’s a good exploration of depression and addiction but I’m not all that interested in bojack as a character especially coming off of a sopranos binge because while bojack is a horse he’s coded as a white middle aged man and I’ve watched enough explorations of morally grey/not particularly good white male characters (walt -breaking bad) with depression (tony -the sopranos ) or dysfunctional back stories (don-mad men) who are creatives (hank -californiacation) and bojack as a character is a continuation of that thread but a horse and that doesn't really do much for me when i don't find anything particularly new about his character or about how they approach that emotional premise of the show, he's simply a horse, which is why I couldn’t get into the show in the first place because I was like I’ve watched this over and over. This type of white male character is essentially a staple of “auteur” television or “prestige” television (these came out after but like Barry or Succession, there’s no shortage of deeply flawed white men to watch).

BUT I find the tongue-in-cheek jokes about Hollywood and celebrity and movies/television really funny and clever so like when Jessica Biel makes an appearance and Diane doesn’t know who she is despite Jessica listing off her accomplishments and she’s like *sigh* I was on seventh heaven and posed topless for a magazine and Diane was like oh YEAH, i cackled or the pointed “this is about improv NOT Scientology” speech or the fact that they still call it hollywoo, or the fact that bojack sees a therapist briefly who is voiced by lorraine braco who played dr. melfi i.e. tony's therapist in the sopranos, that type of stuff, the minutiae of the world I do find hilarious because a lot of it is for people who love/watch a lot of movies/television so there's this appreciation for the medium in the show that i like, or when they incorporate aspects of them being animals into their personalities like mr. peanutbutter hating tennis and the mailman. and I do like the dark jokes like when a random bird tries to jump off from a building but starts flying and is like dammit I forgot I could fly. Basically, most things not bojack is what keeps me entertained.

Although there are some poignant lines around bojack that resonated. I’d seen people be like oooh yeah about Wanda’s when you look at things through rose coloured glasses red flags just look like flags but I was more oh damn about bojack’s explanation of why they’re breaking up i.e you didn’t know me then fell in love with me then got to know me etc. and I like the flashbacks with his mother because she’s terrible but has some really funny lines. And there are certain episodes that I do end up invested in seeing just how terrible he is, like the New Mexico episode and everything that went on with penny and charlotte and prom.

[cephalosporine]

Aziraphale caught with a naked Gabriel and now with a cool cucumber like Crowley-

“You’re a dark horse, Mr. Fell 😉”

Inner monologue: >>It’s always the quiet ones…😏<<

Inner monologue:

>>I think I might prefer purgatory right now…<<

[unforgivablengk]

There are phrases that I don’t hear a lot and when they are used multiple times in a season it makes my ears perk up. It could be that the writer likes that particular phrasing or it could be more.

For example: “a dark horse”

E1 Nina says “you’re a dark horse Mr. Fell”

And later, Crowley (who had heard Nina use the phrase) called Jane Austen “a bit of a dark horse” upon finding learning she wrote novels in addition to being a world class robber.

[averygaefroug]

I figure I may aswell put out this now and see if anyone’s intrigued, good chance this won’t get finished…

Maggie walked into Give me coffee or give me death and quickly found Nina, who was serving what looked to be a particularly particular customer.

“I’m sorry sir, but I’m all out of vanilla syrup now, so you’ll just have to order something else,” 

Nina was beginning to look like she might burst at this point, Maggie stepped forward hoping she could come up with an excuse to diffuse the situation.

“Umm.. Nina I have to talk to you urgently!” 

Maggie said trying to sound serious, Nina seemed to pick on,

“Oh yes! Sir, we’re now closed, so I’ll need you to leave” 

It was still close to an hour before she usually closed but she didn’t much care at this point. She ushered the man out along with the one other woman who’d been just sitting by an empty tea mug.

“So, what’s up?” 

“Well nothing as serious as closing you café,” Maggie said with an embarrassed laugh

“Oh I was going to close early today anyway, you just gave me the excuse I needed. What do you need?”

“I was just wondering if you’d seen Mr. Fell recently, I’m nervous that we did something wrong talking to Crowley, if it was any of our business” Maggie felt that they had been doing the right thing, but she was still quite new to relationships in general.

“Oh I’m sure they’re off honeymooning together; I saw Crowley leave not long after we talked to him… although I don’t believe Fell was with him.”

Maggie looked nervous and started to glance over at the bookshop, while Nina just looked thoughtful.

“But he still needed to hear what we told him, whatever happened they must’ve talked.” Nina knew that they’d gone right with their conversation the previous week.

Maggie was reassured by this until she remembered Muriel.

“ Its just that I went to ask Mr Fell about records this morning and I saw that kid who was dressed in the all white constable uniform and they said they were running the shop now…” 

“Ah the constable shopkeeper gram,” Nina said sarcastically, that Fell wouldn’t put someone like that in charge of the shop he loved so much.

Maggie looked between A.Z. Fell and co. And Nina with a grave look on her face. Nina blinked at Maggie,

“You’re joking! He really did that? I guess they decided to suddenly run away together?” He really was a dark horse, Nina thought.

“But Mr Fell loves that bookshop. I don’t believe he would just leave it, even for the Mr Crowley.” Nina wasn’t really sure what their first names were, she felt better just calling them “Mr.”

“Well, they aren’t entirely human, so maybe time works differently for them. I bet he’ll come back in two years feeling like it’s been only an hour. Don’t worry.”

Nina’s insistence calmed Maggie, Nina knew how this sort of thing worked, if she was completely sure of it, Maggie would be sure too.

                     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a drizzly morning when Crowley woke. Well… it was more of a cloudy- no… it was an almost gray morning, (if you a counted peach and scarlet sunrise -the sort of sunrise poeple took pictures of on their smart phones- as almost gray.) Crowley couldn’t handle it if the sky was happy while he lamented over- while he was living in his car. Crowley knew what he had to do, but every time he tried to drive his eyes would wander, then his God be damned memory would flash to that night and he would  grab a flask and drink till he was hammered out of his mind. The routine hadn’t been helping his already exhausted human body and now that he was out of alcohol he knew it wouldn’t do to put it off again (he was not thinking about it, he was just going to it)

~~~~~~

“We have demons set to be stationed all around Manchester Daegan,” said a pale skinned demon with gray frizzled hair

“Good, this should well help to gain Hell, and our dark master souls.” Replied the green scaled demon known as Daegan

“Once we’ve completely defiled Manchester, we can move forward to larger and larger cities, this plan is very awful” the scarlet dressed demon hissed.

“If Crowley was able to accomplish the Spanish Inquisition living on earth,” Daegan grinned with malice “Then what might a hundred do?”

~~~~~~~~~~