so can someone give me the rundown of every character in #thesandman because the costumes, the characters, the lighting, looks amazing, but I have no fucken clue what’s going on
Pale fella in black with the messy hair: Dream of the Endless. Basically the anthropomorphic personification of dreams and dreaming. Billions of years old, imprisoned for the past century, now trying desperately to fix everything that went to shit while he was gone and track down three important artefacts that his captors stole from him.
The fella played by Charles Dance: Roderick Burgess, the guy who captures and imprisons Dream, kicking off the whole story. Which is rather awkward, since he didn’t even want Dream to begin with, but rather Dream’s older sister…
The lady all in black: Death of the Endless. Basically the decidedly un-Grim Reaper, who flatly refuses to get a scythe. She’s there when every single being comes into existence and she’ll be there when they finally cease to exist, to comfort them on their way out. She’s very loving and friendly to everyone, but lord, her little brother tries her patience sometimes.
The person likewise in black with the cat ears and yellow eyes: Desire of the Endless. The anthropomorphic personification of, you guessed it, desire; not just sexual desire, but the desire for everything you’ve ever possibly wanted. Dream and Death’s younger sibling, they like to play subtle games and either have fun at Dream’s expense, or seek to trick him into destroying himself. You know, classic dysfunctional family.
The fella who’s always wearing the sunglasses: the Corinthian, a rogue nightmare who fled into the waking world while Dream was out of commission. Now that Dream’s free, the Corinthian doesn’t plan to go back to the dream world without a fight, since he’s been enjoying himself immensely, leaving a trail of mutilated bodies in his wake and inspiring others to follow his example. He has a particular thing for eyes, and particular things for eyes.
The lady with the pointed ears: Lucienne the Librarian, custodian of Dream’s immense library, who stayed when so many others fled Dream’s realm and is now trying to help him with the aforementioned desperate fixing.
The lady in the white trench coat who snubs Dream: Johanna Constantine, a professional sorcerer and occult detective, who Dream turns to in order to find his pouch of magical sand. She thinks she’s seen it all. She’s oh so wrong. If the name sounds familiar, she’s the ancestor of John Constantine, and also takes his place in this version due to various copyright issues and pure pragmatic adaptation.
The fella hugging the dragon/gargoyle: Cain, the caretaker of the House of Mystery. And yes; he’s that Cain, the famous one. (Or perhaps not; the comics get a bit fuzzy about it.) At any rate, he certainly murders his brother Abel a lot, in a vicious and often unwelcome cycle.
The statuesque person in black leather with the wings: Lucifer Morningstar. Exactly what it says on the tin, and one of the few beings in the universe able to scare the spit out of Dream.
The fella sitting in a diner holding a glowing red thing: John Dee, who’s spent most of his life in a sanatorium, but has now escaped and plans to reshape the world as he pleases. Because the glowing red thing is actually one of Dream’s tools; a ruby that can distort reality, and would be dangerous even in the safest of hands. Which Dee’s hands are decidedly not.
The fella with a pumpkin for a head: Mervyn Pumpkinhead. Basically Dream’s wise-cracking, cigar smoking janitor. Voiced by Mark Hamill. All hail.
The talking, potentially censored raven: Matthew the Raven. Long story short, he used to be a man, got into a car crash, died while he was in a coma, and agreed to become Dream’s avian messenger. Now he’s a raven and constantly wondering, for the benefit for the audience, what the actual hell is going on.
I remember to post these things elsewhere and then forget about here. So: 6 June at 10:10 am Pacific Time, Netflix Geeked will be showing stuff and revealing other stuff and I'm just sort of pointing this out....
Following on from my uquiz to see which of The Endless you’re most like, here’s one for 24 different Sandman characters! Intrigued to see what the most popular result is, I got Destruction! https://uquiz.com/b1gIkl
which character from neil gaiman’s sandman universe are you?
Following on from my uquiz to see which of The Endless you’re most like, here’s one for 24 different Sandman characters! Intrigued to see what the most popular result is, I got Destruction! https://uquiz.com/b1gIkl
which character from neil gaiman’s sandman universe are you?
why be happy when you could be normal?, jeanette winterson // later: my life at the edge of the world, paul lisicky // untitled, abigail disney // the icarus girl, helen oyeyemi // in which i prefer to blast frank while the door is closed, hazem fahmy // indian killer, sherman alexie // the invention of solitude, paul auster // vesuvius, amber sparks // i threw an effigy-burning bonfire for my female rage, ash sanders // the brief wondrous life of oscar wao, junot díaz.
Red Lights : Vatican
France-based photographer Aishy shares shots of The Basilica di San Pietro, in the heart of the Vatican, under a new glance, a new light.
Wow.
One- Shot: The Seaside Dream (written as part of my series ‘don’t worry about a thing’ on AO3, link can be found at the bottom of the post as it won’t let me embed it)
Fandom: Good Omens
Characters: GN Reader, Aziraphale, Crowley
Warnings and Tags: depression, skipping meals, dynamic duo, here come the boysssss, soft crowley
Summary: you don’t show up for wine with crowley and aziraphale, and the two hurry to your apartment to see what’s going on
Word Count: 2281
Link to original: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31055930/chapters/83889112
‘Crowley, please hurry!’
The pained cry of the angel came from the top of the flight of stairs in your apartment block, echoing off the concrete walls. This mixed with the reverberant sigh of Crowley, and the ever- so- slow tread of his footsteps.
‘CROWLEY. This is important! Do you not care?’
The demon stopped dead in his tracks, planting his feet at the bottom of the set of stairs that the out of breath Aziraphale stood at the top of.
Crowley was not at all happy with the angel’s question.
‘Do I not what? Care? Oh Angel, you’re asking to be pushed down these stairs,’ he responded, almost growling under his breath. In any other circumstance, this might have actually pleased Aziraphale, however this time, he was actually terrified.
-
The scenario had started with what Aziraphale called ‘a dreadfully funny feeling.’
Since Armageddon was narrowly avoided, the angel and the demon had found themselves at somewhat of a loose end on Earth, enjoying their free time together but still constantly striving for some higher purpose.
That’s where you came in. Little did you know that a walk into a lovely little bookshop called A.Z Fell & Co. one day to search for an overpriced illustrated copy of your favourite book would lead to drinking a couple of bottles of wine with the owner and his companion for seven hours straight, and that this would become a weekly tradition. You just clicked with the pair, you found them magnetising and, well, you were a fascinating human to the angel and the demon, so they quickly grew fond of you.
The two supernatural beings then decided that their purpose would be caring. Caring for you.
Not in a suffocating way though, at least that was never the intention. Between the two of them, Crowley and Aziraphale decided from the get go that they would just be there for you as a friend, with little extras added on top like going out and buying your shopping for you whenever there was a thunderstorm, or baking you enough cake to feed the 5000. But, the pair’s talents in observance and intuition slowly made them realise that something was always just slightly off with you.
To them, it seemed like there was always something hidden behind a wall in your head, like a pretence that you constantly held up. Granted, part of their realisation came when in one of your drinking sessions at the bookshop, you let slip that you hadn’t eaten a proper meal for two days and they both nearly hit the roof. They asked you why, and kept asking why (Aziraphale in particular was extremely persistent) but you brushed it off- you always brushed it off.
‘No no, it’s nothing to be worried about, I promise! I’ve just been so busy, y’know? It’s nothing, please Aziraphale, you can sit down. Don’t you worry about me.’
Now, Crowley could sense a lie from a mile off considering he was the lord of them, and Aziraphale could feel that your inner emotions were about as steady as a mongoose riding a pedal bike, and they therefore deduced that they should in fact worry about you.
And so the slightly incompetent suffocation began.
This was definitely mainly from Aziraphale, as his senses for detecting emotional suffering and hurt were a lot stronger than Crowley’s- this was just down to how long he’d been pulling angelic manoeuvres. Crowley was a lot less practised however when he felt that something was off, he really did feel that something was off. This however meant that wherever in London you were, Aziraphale would realise that something was wrong, no matter how small the inconvenience.
Notable occasions included when the tubes on the Central Line were running one minute late and Aziraphale unsuccessfully attempted to miracle another train up, causing even more delay and destruction, when the bottom of your shoe fell off in a puddle and Aziraphale got so upset that he cried for an hour, (to be fair, he’d had a long day; someone had tried to buy a book from the shop which had displeased him greatly) and when a seagull crapped on your shoulder while you were sitting outside a bar at Canary Wharf and the angel managed to manifest a fluke bolt of lightning which struck the seagull down right into your food.
And all this from the comfort of his own home.
Crowley had tried to tell the angel that not every inconvenience could be sorted out, that the pair needed to pick their battles with the perils of the human life.
‘Yes yes, I understand. I’ll stop, I promise. We’ll stick to the original plan. Now have you seen my banana bread recipe? I think they could do with a pep up.’
This lasted for 22 hours.
You hadn’t shown up to the bookshop like you did every week.
‘Oh Angel do stop pacing, they have a life of their own you know,’ Crowley nagged, holding a bottle of red wine in one hand as he stood in the doorway between the main shop and the back room.
‘Something is wrong, Crowley. I have a dreadfully funny feeling,’ Aziraphale insisted, wringing his hands and pacing at twice the average speed of an angel.
‘Right, yes, okay but the problem is, you’ve said that every night for two weeks and it hasn’t been true once.’
‘You can’t sense it like I can.’ The angel stormed towards the coat stand, reaching for his coat.
‘Oh no no no, we agreed, no suffocation. Put that down, you’re not going anywhere,’ the demon asserted.
‘Oh yes we are. Put that wine in the back, you’re driving.’
Crowley had rarely heard Aziraphale’s voice like this before, low and extremely demanding. There wasn’t any way he was getting out of this, the angel was on a mission.
-
And so, Crowley drove the angel to your apartment block and the two of them ended up in the stairwell facing off with each other. Too highly strung for their own good.
‘What if this is the one time that I’m right? You’re here getting all… demonic on the stairs and-‘
‘I will get demonic, Aziraphale. I am in fact a demon, plus if this is the one time that you’re right then you’re holding both us back by squabbling. Move out of the way.’
Crowley marched up the stairs stony faced, swooping straight past Aziraphale to your front door.
He did care. He really did. He just didn’t like to show it around Aziraphale because he always felt inferior in they way that he cared compared to the angel. He didn’t have those massively intuitive senses, his baking skills weren’t up to scratch, he felt held back by control. But something in the demonic form burned when he thought of the idea that you were hurting- and that burning was made more painful by Aziraphale’s suggestion that he didn’t care.
He snapped his fingers at your door, and it violently swung open, hitting against the wall of the hallway as it did. He stormed inside, barely letting Aziraphale follow behind before he snapped his fingers again to close it. Darkness and silence fell over the hallway as the angel and the demon stood completely still, their anxious breathing slowly filling the space.
They could both easily sense one important thing- you were present in the apartment, you were safe within the four walls. There was a collective sigh of relief.
‘Told you,’ Crowley sneered under his breath, trying to hide his still present anxiety. As much as he could feel your presence, he was struggling with any of the finer details, your emotional state or your exact whereabouts.
‘Don’t be like that. I was only trying to help,’ Aziraphale whimpered, taking a small step forwards. Unlike Crowley, he could just about tell that you were somewhere in the general direction of your bedroom. The angel clicked his fingers and uttered a small ‘let there be light’, allowing the hallway to be illuminated by a faint white glow. There was no other light coming from anywhere due to a distinct lack of windows in the architecture of this building, the only three were in your living room, your bedroom and your kitchen and even then, you’d shut all of the curtains and all of the doors in the place.
The angel padded further down the hallway, leaving Crowley to look at the prints on your walls like an awkward cousin at a party. By the time Aziraphale had reached your bedroom door, Crowley had moved onto examining the items on the coffee table that was slightly further down the hall. There wasn’t a lot to examine, a couple of books, your keys, an Alexa that you’d turned the microphone off on. The one thing that caught Crowley’s eye was a small painting of a seaside town just laying down on the table. It wasn’t anywhere near being finished and much to Crowley’s dismay, it was crumpled up. He assumed two scenarios from this, either someone had given you an unfinished painting and you felt so strongly about it that you took to crumpling it up, or this was in fact your handy work that had been partially destroyed.
‘Crowley, what now?’ Aziraphale whispered from the end of the corridor, bringing Crowley’s gaze up from the table and back to reality.
‘Uhhh, don’t scare them. Don’t just burst in,’ the demon responded, moving down to meet Aziraphale by the bedroom.
‘I wasn’t planning on doing that! I just mean, do I knock? Just go in? Announce our arrival?’
Crowley rested his hand lightly on your bedroom door, looking quizzically at Aziraphale who was jumping through every possible scenario in his head. The demon sighed.
‘Just, shush. Okay, let’s just be quiet. Follow me, angel.’
Crowley very slowly pushed your bedroom door open, being greeted with yet more darkness from inside as he did so. Aziraphale hung over his shoulder to try and look inside, with Crowley grunting slightly at this. Through the darkness, Crowley made out a shape in the bed.
You, curled into a ball and fast asleep. Your breathing was heavy, but not laboured, and the bedsheets rose and fell accordingly. You were as close to comatose as could possibly be, dead to the world but luckily, very much alive.
‘Aaah. Oh, look,’ whispered Aziraphale. Crowley glared slightly at the angel, but inside, his sentiments were very similar. The pair stared at your form resting in the darkness for a few seconds, relieved with every breath that you took. With anyone else? It would have been creepy.
But not with these two. It was a deep devotion and concern.
Aziraphale went to take a step forwards but Crowley stopped him in his tracks, stopping the angel from getting anywhere near you.
‘Don’t even think about waking them, look. They’re deep in dreamland,’ the demon hissed, meeting Aziraphale’s puppy eyes.
‘Oh please, I just wanted to check that they’re okay.’
‘Aziraphale, they’re very clearly shattered. I think that we’ve discovered that they’re definitely not okay, but interrupting their sleep won’t help anyone. Let’s just, y’know, help where we can.’
‘But their soul-‘
‘I know. We’ll help with that tomorrow. For today, they sleep.’
Aziraphale eventually backed off slightly, looking down while nodding in defeat. While his deep concern could only ever have come from a place of love, he realised that stepping back for a second could be beneficial to everyone. He started to head towards the kitchen to see if there was anything that he could help with in there, turning back round for a second to ask Crowley what he should do. Crowley however was no longer stood in your doorway, and was instead sat on the edge of your bed, resting his hand on your leg.
The angel went to protest in some jealousy for a moment, but the warm glow that filled up his heart because of the sight stopped him. He just smiled, and turned back.
—
Between the pair of them, you were treated to a clean kitchen, a full fridge, a massive fuzzy blanket for the bed and soft, warm light for each room.
But there was one final detail bugging Crowley.
As the pair crept down your hallway back to the front door, Crowley let out a soft whistle to his friend as he stopped beside the coffee table. The angel turned his head, looking at the objects scattered about the surface.
‘What’s this?’ He asked, strangely intrigued by the small speaker- like object.
‘It’s an Alexa, it’s like a - y’know what, doesn’t matter. That’s not what I need you for. Look at this.’ Crowley picked up the ruined painting that he’d spotted earlier, showing it to Aziraphale. The angel scanned over it.
‘Ooh, its Whitby, the place with Dracula!’ He half gasped half squealed, failing to see what his friend was seeing.
‘It’s fucked is what it is, angel. I think they’ve crumpled it up in frustration or something, which I’m not exactly thrilled with. I’m out of niceness for today, can you do something?’ Crowley sighed, thrusting the painting towards his friend slightly.
‘Oh, easily. Your wish is my command, dear.’
Aziraphale swiped his hand across the paper and watched as the creases disappeared and the smudges eased. The colours got just a little brighter, and the beauty of your half- finished painting was restored.
‘We’ll help them finish it tomorrow, yes Crowley?’ The angel continued. Crowley gave a small smile with all the good energy that he had left in his body.
Works of writing I have saved that I go to all the time when I need something to calm me down or bring a smile to my face. These are all favorites of mine!
Clearly you can tell I’m rather fond of Aziraphale and the Eleventh Doctor 😂
Sheet Music: Samwise Gamgee x Reader @beautifultypewriter
Tanum: Samwise Gamgee x Reader @ceinelee
It’s About Time: Samwise Gamgee x Reader @carbomcoco
Book of Flowers: Aziraphale x Reader @acedesigns
Fantasy: Aziraphale x Reader @acedesigns
Presto!: Aziraphale x Reader @lordhealthis-bike
Mutter: Aziraphale x Reader @clanwarrior-tumbly
I Can’t Help Falling In Love With You: Aziraphale x Reader @inlovewithasupernaturalentity
One Monstrous Miracle: Aziraphale x Reader @severusminerva
Four Times Aziraphale Wanted to Kiss You: Aziraphale x Reader @applepiewinchesters
One Good Day: Aziraphale x Reader @castthy-nightedcolour
Waking Up At Their Place: Aziraphale x Reader @spilledkauffie
Touch Starved: Crowley x Reader @spilledkauffie
Just For Today: Eleventh Doctor x Reader @a-dorin
Worrywart: Eleventh Doctor x Reader @jamesdeerest
Soulmate Ceremony: Eleventh Doctor x Reader @timelord-winchester-22b
Mean It: Eleventh Doctor x Reader @kisstherainwriting
Caught Up in the Moment: Eleventh Doctor x Reader @penguinwithitsarseonfire
Like Real People Do: Eleventh Doctor x Reader @spideyandtheboys
Alpha Centauri: Eleventh Doctor x Reader @shawnsassymendes
The Sacrifice: Eleventh Doctor x Reader @mca-attack21
Love and Sickness: Eleventh Doctor x Reader @fly-flower-fanfics
Safe Places In Space: Eleventh Doctor x Reader @inthisformiambadwolf
Finally fricking finishing this painting was not intentionally coordinated with recent ~events~ but I will absolutely take it. You can read a little more about my long journey with this painting in the last post. I'm just....really really happy with it. Happy to have worked on it, and happy it's done. Still thinking about a title.
✨PRINTS✨
I'll be doing a Shop Update this Saturday, July 3rd at 3pm EST, with:
- Open Edition prints
- Limited Edition prints, hand-embellished with gold watercolor (more info here)
Love you all (and....goes without saying. S2 👏🙌🤩)
One- Shot: A Different Side (written as part of my series ‘don’t worry about a thing’ on AO3, link can be found at the bottom of the post as it won’t let me embed it)
Fandom: Good Omens
Characters: GN Reader, Crowley, a very annoying mouse
Warnings and Tags: snakes, animal death/ harm, swearing, uh oh we have a pest control problem, snake crowley, comfort , are they aren’t they
Summary: mouse traps, a skip full of rubbish and a broken down bus. not exactly your dream day, but your favourite demonic entity has a trick up his sleeve and behind his glasses to help you.
Word Count: 2778
Link to original: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31055930/chapters/81050182
If there was one word to describe your mood, that word would be vile. Tiny little irritants throughout the day had built to a simmering anger:
-Firstly, your bus into town had broken down about ten minutes away from your stop, meaning that you were forced to trek your way to the shops.
-Secondly, your trip to said shops wasn’t for any kind of retail therapy, but was instead to buy mouse traps. Your usually serene flat had been taken over by a little grey rodent who despite any humane efforts, was refusing to leave. You weren’t usually one for violence towards any living thing, but the little shit was out staying its welcome and had most recently been seen taking a bite out of a loaf of bread.
-When you did eventually get into town, it seemed to be the day for the world’s slowest walkers to take to the streets. Everyone was moving at about two steps per minute and you, being naturally speedy, were constantly waiting for gaps on the pavement to overtake. When you did manage to do this, there would be a whole new couple walking side by side, plodding along at a snail’s pace. You weren’t getting anywhere quick.
All in all, not your finest hour. This all came to a head on Oxford Street, or as you liked to call it, hell.
Your brain felt as though it were made of jelly, your temperature was rising, and someone stopped right in the middle of the street to check their phone. Slamming right into the back of them, you immediately let out something resembling a howl before running to your side off down Old Cavendish Street, somewhere slightly quieter. You leaned against the nearest wall, hot anger bubbling within you for what at the time, seemed like a life or death scenario of you getting out of town with the mousetraps, but in retrospect was just the culmination of various shitty things.
The last thing which you wanted to hear was any sign that you were being perceived, but a teenage boy riding past you on a bike shouting an obnoxious ‘WAHEYYYY’ at you was enough to tip you over the edge. You bashed your head back on the wall, feeling acid tears of anger falling, pedalled down your face by your short temper. Then, another shout came towards you from across the street.
‘Y/N? Is that you?’
You were ready to push yourself off the wall to lunge at this person until your brain caught up with recognition. Tilting your head forwards, your suspicions were confirmed when you saw floppy, ginger hair bouncing over the street atop a leather-clad frame. The sunglasses perched on his nose brought you a feeling somewhere between relief and fear.
You and Crowley had a relationship which can only be described as ‘are they? Aren’t they?’
You sure as hell couldn’t tell if he had any romantic feelings for you, and he gave off vibes so mixed that they were jumbled by this point. People always commented on the electricity between the two of you whenever you were together, but you tried not to get your hopes up and usually just put this down to his magnetising nature.
He’d told you about himself, and you thought that he must have trusted you somewhat to be able to disclose that he was a demon to you.
Then again, maybe he was just overly confident.
In the state you were currently in, you couldn’t decide whether to run into his arms to scream, or run as quickly away from him as was physically possible.
Your body chose neither and just stood there, open mouthed and gawking as the tears continued to fall with no effort from your eyelids. Crowley examined you, peering over the top of his sunglasses to try and decipher the scene before him.
‘Don’t tell me someone’s upset you, because I will find them for you, Y/N’ he started, rearing himself up as he spoke. You jumped in.
‘No, no. Not upset. I swear. Just… pissed off. Massively, massively pissed off. Short fuse today, y’see.’
‘Oh. Well, I know all about that. I’m quick to anger at any given moment but then again, ‘s in my nature. What exactly are you doing down here?’
You looked to your side at the gigantic skip full of building waste, then down to your feet where someone’s puke sat. You looked back up to the demon.
‘It was a quick escape, one that was made before I slapped someone in the face.’
Crowley looked slightly taken aback, not expecting any expression of violence from you considering your usually placid nature.
‘Ooookay. Well, I won’t ask for details but, here.’ He leaned over slightly and brushed away some of the tears which were still running down your face. You could swear that you both stopped breathing for a moment as he touched you but then again, you weren’t in a fit state for rational thinking.
‘Thank you,’ you breathed out. ‘I’m all good, I promise. Just need to breathe.’ You gave a reassuring smile to the demon and noticed him looking down to your hand, holding a flimsy plastic bag containing the mouse traps.
‘What you got there? Looks interesting.’ He said, tilting his head to try and get a closer look. You brought the bag up to your chest.
‘Oh, mouse traps. There’s a little shit thinking that he owns my flat who’s probably currently in my bread bin. Thought I’d stop the problem while I could, considering there’s that saying about seeing mice. Y’know, for every mouse you see, there’s always another one somewhere. Can’t wait to clean that up!’ Your words had somewhat of a bite, being spat like venom.
‘Woah. You really are pissed, aren’t you?’ Crowley responded, half smirking. For some reason, this set you off again.
‘Yes. Yes, actually I am. Because y’know what? This day has been fucking horrific! I genuinely don’t think that I’ve had two consecutive minutes of peace since the second I woke up. I can’t relax because of the mouse, then there was the bus, and the walking, and the pain in my feet, and the twat who decided to check his phone in the middle of Oxford Street. Sorry, who the hell does that? I just feel like I’ve been left out of any plans that the universe had to let people go about their day without a care in the world. So yes, I’m fuming.’ You gave a huff before realising that you were now crying again. Crowley stood slightly dumbstruck, shifting his weight between his feet. You glanced off to the side, watching the shoppers propel themselves down Oxford Street.
The demon then spoke, his voice low and sincere.
‘Can I give you a lift?’
—
After what felt like a windswept journey in the Bentley, Crowley screeched to a halt outside your flat. Jolting forwards slightly, the plastic bag containing the mouse traps crinkled between your legs.
You’d calmed down quite significantly, but now felt a combination of complete embarrassment that you’d had such an outburst in front of the being that you completely adored, and absolute excitement that he’d even offered you a lift. This wasn’t helped when you heard him say,
‘Let me walk you upstairs. Check that you’re okay.’
You felt fizzy, and as the two of you trudged up to your flat, you felt as though you could lift off any second. As you unlocked your front door, Crowley leaned on the doorframe, peering in to the hallway as you threw your bag on the floor. You suddenly regretted this as when the bag hit the floor, there was a scuttle from under your bedroom door, and the little mouse took one giant sprint off towards the kitchen. You screamed in shock as the little bastard took itself away, and Crowley grabbed onto your arm. This made you jump for a second time.
‘Woah woah there, calm down. It’s just a little mouse, we’ll sort this,’ Crowley sweetly spoke, lulling your heart back to a slightly normal rate. You looked down to his arm resting on yours and couldn’t help but smile slightly.
Crowley had a look on his face which would have read from ten miles away as one with a scheme brewing.
‘Look Y/N, I’m going to do something here which I don’t do very often, and all I’m asking is that you don’t freak out,’ the demon announced.
You couldn’t help but make a sarcastic joke.
‘What’s that then, the housework?’ Smirking, you looked up at Crowley who glared at you through his sunglasses.
‘Fine, you don’t need my help!’ He huffed, obviously taking the piss but you couldn’t help but tease him back into good spirits.
‘No no, sorry Crowley. What have you got for me?’
‘Snake.’
You stood there for a second, trying to make any sense of what he just said and burning up slightly as you wondered if this was perhaps his way of flirting.
‘A… a snake? You have a snake?’
‘Yes. Well, no. Well… yes. Look it’s complicated, can I just show you?’
Uh oh. Maybe this was him flirting.
You thought for a second before hearing an almighty crash from the kitchen, and from down the hallway you saw an entire loaf of bread fall to the ground, followed by a small army of mice. Again, you let out a scream as Crowley slammed the door shut behind the both of you.
‘How fucking many are there now?!’ You exclaimed, turning to face Crowley who was now quickly shifting between his feet. He suddenly grabbed your shoulders.
‘Look Y/N, tell me quick, do you have a phobia?’
‘Of mice? I think that’s pretty evident Crow-‘
‘No, of snakes. Are you scared of snakes?’
‘What is it with you and these snakes?’ You laughed. The demon then stood dead still and stared right at you.
‘Stay still. Don’t freak out please. I promise this will help.’
Before you knew it, Crowley’s hands had disappeared off your shoulders and he seemed to disappear entirely from before you. Confused, you looked down at the floor.
What you saw took your breath away for what felt like forever.
Rows and rows of black scales suddenly lined your hallway, flowing from side to side as the form made its way towards the kitchen. This didn’t take long, considering the snake’s body seemed to run on forever, there must have been at least 10 metres of the creature occupying your apartment.
You’d never really considered Crowley’s powers before. While you were aware that he was a demon, this thought didn’t control your every interaction with him. He was just Crowley- your friend Crowley- your possibly more than a friend Crowley- your Crowley. Shapeshifting had never been part of the picture.
But it was so, so beautiful.
Moving.
And snakes were never your favourite but this was just something else.
Squeals of mouse terror came from the kitchen as a massive shadow rose up throughout the whole apartment. Crowley was sitting up on his body, his head pointed towards any mouse that he could detect and a razor sharp stare in his luminescent eyes.
Your favourite part of this whole scenario was laying on the floor in front of you- Crowley’s sunglasses, sans Crowley for the first time ever. You smiled as you bent down to pick them up, your feet planted to the spot due to the inherently overwhelming nature of what was happening. You ran your fingers over the frames feeling the heat that was stored in them.
There was something so human about the lingering warmth to the metal, but that thing that made it so distinctively Crowley was the fact that the heat never seemed to fade.
The floor seemed to move as the scales once again shifted, with Crowley turning round to come back towards you. Cold fear seized your entire body, despite the oddly comforting and protective energy of this gigantic creature. His yellow eyes were right in front of your face before you’d even managed to properly react to him moving towards you.
You blinked and the Crowley that you knew and … ahem… was standing in front you, a live mouse swinging from his hand by the tail.
‘Consider those rodents dispatched.’
The mouse in his hand was thrashing wildly from side to side and while you hated the little shits, you couldn’t help but feel sorry for it. You went to protest but no words came out of your mouth.
You’d just witnessed something- something that couldn’t exactly be described as a miracle but to you- maybe?
Crowley noticed the panic in your eyes directed towards the mouse and realised what he needed to do. The mouse disappeared in another of your blinks.
There were so many pressing questions on your mind, but you only managed to actually articulate one of them.
‘Please tell me you didn’t eat those mice, Crowley?’ Your tone was somewhere between intrigue and massive concern.
The demon scoffed, ‘I prefer oysters normally, Y/N. No, I didn’t eat them. I can assure you though, they won’t be back any time soon.’
Palpable silence hung between the two of you. You naturally seemed to hold out Crowley’s sunglasses to him, staring directly into the eyes which served as a reminder of his other form as you did so.
Crowley went to slowly take the glasses off you, but in a snap decision, you snatched them back. Crowley wasn’t exactly thrilled by this.
‘Hey, don’t play games with those. They’re my-‘
He didn’t stand a chance of finishing his sentence before you jumped in, with your subconscious mind taking a grasp on your mouth. Maybe this was a trick of Crowley’s, but at least some of it came from your heart.
‘Do it again. Turn back.’
The two of you stared at each other as a smirk took over the demon’s face.
‘Really? It seemed to terrify you, dearest.’
The cockiness in his voice only persuaded you to carry on pushing.
‘Not at all! No no, it was just... well it was a shock at first. Obviously. Like who the hell else can do that? But no, not terror. It’s intrigue. I swear.’
You made sure to assert yourself in your voice as your brain convinced you that you would never rest again unless Crowley turned back into a snake. It was almost like the sheer shock had morphed into utter obsession in a matter of seconds.
And maybe you just adored every part of Crowley and him being vulnerable in showing a new side to you? Well...
Again, you blinked and he was gone for a moment, before the black reptile rose up to meet your gaze. He hadn’t continued to question you.
The presence was unexplainable, physically so big in the space but even just the idea of him just seemed to fill up every corner of the place. Moving the sunglasses into your right hand, you tentatively raised up your left.
‘Can... may I? Can I touch?’ You softly asked, mimicking a petting action in the air. Somehow, Crowley let you know that it was okay, pulling your hand towards him with some kind of magnetising energy.
Your fingers lightly brushed the scales on his head and you took a breath so deep you almost triggered hiccups. The texture was confusing, it almost seemed like it was shifting forms by the second- smooth then rough, hard then feather soft, but still always cool as marble. You fully rested your hand down as you glanced along the entire body, once again filling up the entire hallway.
‘Crowley, this is beautiful. I mean that.’ You whispered, transfixed on what you were seeing.
Then, the unimaginable happened. Your hand which had ended up resting on the snake’s head suddenly felt warm.
Was... was he blushing? You decided to test the water slightly more.
‘I didn’t even imagine that anything could be so magnificent but, well. Here you are. So gorgeous.’
Sure enough, another flush felt through your hand.
‘Crowley, are you blushing?’ You giggled. The heat on his face then took another rise, this time enough to hurt you slightly. You drew your hand away instinctually, but with a smile still on your face.
This was now a day worth noting. The day that started with a mouse in a bread bin and some unfortunately placed anger, and ended as the day that you made a snake blush.
And of course, he made you blush too.
A new side of Crowley. One that you couldn’t help but adore.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
One-Shot: One Good Day (written as part of my series ‘don’t worry about a thing’ on AO3, link can be found at the bottom of the notes as it won’t let me embed it)
Fandom: Good Omens
Characters: GN Reader, Aziraphale
Warnings and Tags: anxiety, depression, social Anxiety, implied S/H, swearing, aziraphale loves your soul, mysterious soft guardian angel breaks into your home, soft comfort
Summary: life hasn’t been going great for you. every single thing which could have gone wrong in the last week has gone wrong and you’re reaching breaking point. miraculously, something appears in your room to guide you to safety.
Word Count: 2459
Link to original: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31055930/chapters/76720253
You stumbled through your front door, the handle of your shopping bag snapping in half as your foot made it over the threshold. You watched blankly as the bottle of lemonade rolled down the hallway and the other groceries poured themselves all over the floor, rain water dripping from your hood down your face. As you slammed the door shut behind you, the smell of disinfectant rose up from the place where the groceries were sitting and you quickly realised that there’d been a leak.
Deep breath in.
The breath makes it halfway into your diaphragm before it stumbles into a sob.
Burning in your throat as you pull down your hood and hear the water shake off onto the floor.
One wrong thing in your life always managed to form into two wrong things, then before you knew it you were drowning in a cascade of completely wrong things. Everything in the past week had gradually been getting more difficult and you now felt that if you couldn’t even go to the corner shop without everything going horribly wrong, there wasn’t much point in leaving the house at all.
Work was hell; customers were rude, you were in constant pain from walking the shop floor and folding and re-folding items that people threw onto piles, and your manager seemed to hate you more with each passing day. Because you were always working, you felt incredibly isolated from any of your friends, and your unsociable free hours prevented you from messaging anyone in complete fear that you were taking up their time.
Everything just felt dull. A pressure behind the eyes, numb hands, dead legs, a complete inability to produce even one tear. You hadn’t felt this bad in a long time and you could feel yourself spiralling quickly towards catastrophe.
You stepped over the pile of groceries on the floor and edged towards your bedroom, completely ready to fall down backwards onto your bed and think yourself into a pain of solace. Water was still falling from your coat down onto your floor, leaving a trail behind you before slowly pooling together on the lino.
As you pushed your bedroom door open, you ran your right hand along your left arm, collecting freezing cold water on the tips of your fingers and in the palm of your hand. You took this hand to your face in an attempt to feel something on a face which felt like brick.
Not cold enough. Try harder.
A swift slap to your cheek had you letting out a small gasp.
Still not good enough.
You lunged towards the bed with the full intention of collapsing onto it and never getting up again. As you propelled yourself forwards, you suddenly felt a hand on your shoulder, one with a gentle but commanding touch. Although you stopped dead in your tracks, you weren’t at all scared or concerned about this other presence in the room. There was absolutely no hint of threat at all. Slowly, you turned your head to look at the hand, glancing up the arm which was clad in a pale beige overcoat. A warm voice whispered from behind you,
‘Now, don’t tell me you were going to get into that lovely warm bed in this coat?’
There was no other way to describe the voice but hug-like, embracing the dull ache in you and injecting just a hint of warmth. You didn’t reply, but slowly turned fully to get a glance at whoever the man smelling vaguely of cinnamon was.
He is almost luminous.
One hand resting lightly on your shoulder with the other holding the rogue bottle of lemonade with support from his underarm.
You took one glance at the fluffy white blonde curls on his head and immediately branded him as something ethereal, the rosy pink cheeks and beaming smile were just more evidence for this. You shivered under his light grasp, partially because you were freezing and partially because you were very overwhelmed by the sight in front of you. If this was as you thought, a visit from an angel, then surely your life would never be the same.
Or maybe you’d died?
As if reading your mind, the glowing being jumped in to reassure you.
‘I know you may be wondering what’s happening here but fear not, I’m here with good intentions. In fact, they’re the only intentions I can possibly have.’
You zoned out slightly listening to his honey soaked voice, your eyes practically glazing over at the idea of whoever this radiant being was being present in your flat which had become a complete black hole over the past week. You struggled to form any kind of sentence to articulate this, but eventually came out with one word.
‘Y/N.’ You breathed, immediately feeling like an idiot for saying it. The angel didn’t hold the same opinion on this matter, though.
‘Well, that is a simply beautiful name. It’s an honour to be in your presence, Y/N.’ He spoke. You couldn’t quite fathom why he was being so nice to you and an ominous, inky black cloud inside you was attempting to convince you that this was all some joke.
Noticing fear creeping into your eyes, the angel tightened the grip on your shoulder in reassurance.
‘It’s okay, I promise. I’m Aziraphale , I’m here to look after you for as long as you need.’ The voice, like nectar, coated your very being in what felt like love.
The angel placed the lemonade on the floor and then very slowly pulled your coat off your shoulders, constantly looking at your face for any hint of discomfort. All you could do was stand there like a lemon, a look of disbelief plastered on your face as Aziraphale lifted the coat and threw it behind him, with it seemingly now miraculously dry. As you leaned to try and peek behind him, he looked concerningly at your shivering body and took a step towards you, running one of his hands down each of your arms.
You could suddenly feel heat radiating off him as you realised that all of your clothes were sopping wet, it wasn’t just your coat. The storm outside had hit just as you’d left to go the shop, which was just the icing on the cake of the perfectly played out horrible circumstances of the week.
As the hands were run down your arms, you noticed everything become dry and fluffy, like you were suddenly dressed in fleece, but they were definitely still your clothes.
Some kind of miracle?
The reassuring voice of Aziraphale returned to the room, echoing off every wall.
‘There, now I think that’s a lot better. Won’t you sit down, Y/N?’ He gestured towards your bed and immediately, you fell backwards onto it, following his instructions as though they were law. Sitting up, you peered up at him as he moved to sit down next to you, a comforting smile still on his face. The feeling of safety was so overwhelming for you, especially compared to the chaos swimming around your body only five minutes prior. Instinctually, you kicked off your shoes, curling your legs up to the bed and sitting cross legged, turning to face the angel. You weren’t sure how to make conversation with the ethereal, it wasn’t exactly a day to day occurrence, but you ran with the situation.
‘So… well… wow I guess. This is… well it’s…. oh my god sorry, oh GOD I shouldn’t be saying God should I, not around you. I couldn’t have done this more wrong, could I?’ As the words trickled out your mouth, the familiar sense of embarrassment began to worm its way back into your soul, overriding whatever comfort Aziraphale had placed there previously. You were slightly shocked to glance at his face and notice the smile still plastered on it.
‘Please, lovely Y/N, there’s no need to apologise. Say whatever you need to say, I’m here to listen. I’m all yours.’ He beamed.
Something still isn’t adding up. There isn’t a chance that someone would be this nice to you out of choice, this must be a joke.
With your thoughts beginning to spiral again, your breathing was working its way into something between a pant and one long, continuous breath. Aziraphale noticed this sudden change, and placed one hand on your back and began to very gently rub.
‘Shhhhh, it’s okay now. What’s going on here? What’s happened?’ His voice rang like a bell in your head. Your breathing came to a complete halt.
No one’s every asked you that before, have they?
The angel realised that your ribs were no longer rising and falling. All he had to do was say the words ‘please breathe’ before you took one big sigh. Glancing down at the floor, you weren’t really sure how to even answer him. Did you mention your manager? Or was he more bothered about the fact that you’d barely eaten for three days, and the only shopping that you had managed to get yourself was now doused in disinfectant? Maybe he’d be able to help with your missed messages and emails.
Then again, with 43 notifications looming over you, maybe not.
As you lifted your gaze, all of your debilitating troubles culminated into two words.
‘I’m fine!’ A false chipper tone rang through your response as the angel furrowed his brow.
‘Well, now, and please don’t think me rude here Y/N, but I think that may be just a teeny-weeny lie.’
You both sat staring at each other for a few seconds as you let that sit with you. Interestingly, you swore that you could see sunlight on his face despite the fact that it was absolutely pissing it down outside. Eventually, you worked up the courage to respond.
‘Well, yeah. A little bit maybe but on the whole, I’m okay! It’s just my manager is really onto me at the moment which means that I can’t really concentrate so I’m having to stay long hours at work…’
As you spoke, the chain of events spilled out your mouth in a fountain of truth. You got to the point where you couldn’t stop talking, laying out an entire map of problems for Aziraphale to navigate his way across. By the time you were talking about the build-up of notifications on your phone, tears were running down your cheeks, with Aziraphale swiftly reaching across to wipe them away. He watched on as you spoke, an almost pained look in his eyes. He couldn’t bear to see a human soul so torn up, especially because of other humans.
With words falling out of you so easily, both you and the angel were a little taken aback when you stopped yourself mid-sentence.
‘I’ve been coming home and I’ve just been sitting here and thinking, and thinking before eventually-‘.
Aziraphale looked as though he expected you to carry on for about a second, until he grasped exactly what you were talking about. He couldn’t help but getting choked up at the idea of such a beautiful soul being driven to destroying the vessel which was carrying it, and this was all he needed to hear. With both force and care, he threw his arms around your shoulders, allowing your head to rest in the crook of his neck.
‘I’m going to sort this all out for you, Y/N. I can’t bear to think of you being so unhappy when you deserve the world, and everything beyond it.’
Before you could even protest with any idea that he may have been exaggerating, you felt a whimper leave your body which felt like it had been sitting there for centuries. Being held, being listened to, being cared for was something so alien to you, so overwhelming.
As you sat still in the angel’s grasp, you could physically feel worries lifting off your shoulders. You wondered for a moment how this was even possible, before remembering that you were spilling your problems out to an angel.
—
Turns out, Aziraphale really did sort it all out for you. A cheeky little rat infestation in the local shopping centre meant that the shop where you worked was forced to close for a few days, plus your manager had been taken out by a freak case of a rare tropical virus so they weren’t going to be able to leave their house for a couple of weeks.
Your fridge was fully stocked, every surface in your house was shining and a glass of lemonade complete with ice and a little slice of lemon was sitting on the side waiting for you when you returned from a bath which had driven every ache from your body. The angel was leaning against the fridge, reading a copy of Frankenstein which you’d forgotten that you even owned. You stood in the doorway of your kitchen in a fluffy robe, feeling a smile sit on your face for the first time in a while. The angel suddenly noticed your presence and glanced up, beaming at you.
‘Enjoying that?’ You asked, pointing your head towards the book. He held it up.
‘Takes a while to get going, doesn’t it?’ He responded, a quizzical look on his face. You giggled at this, slowly walking over to take the glass of lemonade. The angel watched on as you took a sip from it, the bubbles rising to your nose and making you sneeze. As you put the glass down, you fully turned to him.
‘Thank you, Aziraphale. For everything you’ve done for me.’
‘Oh, we’re not done yet my dear. I’m here for you until the end. Unfortunately one good day won’t be enough,’ he walked closer to you and grabbed both of your hands.
‘But it’s a brilliant place to start.’ He finished. You beamed up at him, but still with some concern sitting on your face.
‘What about when my manager gets better? I’m really not sure I can ever face them again, I-‘ Before you could begin catastrophising, the angel gently placed one finger on your lips. He then squeezed the hand entwined with his.
‘As I said, I’m here for you until the end. There’s many miracles for you, dear Y/N. Let’s just get through today, okay? We can battle tomorrow when it arrives. For now, I think that it’s time my food expertise should come out and that you should take a seat while I prepare the best meal of your life. Now, let’s see…’ He moved away from you, beginning to rummage in each cupboard and your fridge for ingredients. Naturally, you seemed to drift towards your sofa, as if being led.
Must be a miracle. For an angel, he sure can tempt you.
