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Literature Text
Of course Aziraphale had been to Heaven. He was an angel, after all. It was his home.
If you thought about it, he was pretty lucky. Heaven was supposed to be the paradise. The place where you tried as hard as you possibly could to go, all your temptation and sin- filled life. Where pure souls lived happily in peace and repose, and looked down their celestial noses at the suckers in Hell. Being created there, having the opportunity to be one of the first residents of such a pure and unimaginably beautiful place, well, it was certainly a good set-up.
But heaven…Aziraphale was starting to think that after 6 millennia on Earth he'd rather stay where he was.
An ungrateful bastard, yes. Still, feelings were treacherous things.
Heaven was holy solidified, but somehow…
In Heaven, you didn't get the smell of earth after a storm, and you didn't get the sharp wetness of wind flinging a handful of rain in your face. You didn't get hot golden afternoons full of mild sunburn and trashy romance novels, and you didn't get sprawling gritty cities with little second-hand bookshops and alleyways with old cobblestones and fierce, half-ashamed patriotism. You didn't get to see a human reaching out his hand to another human, despite all the obstacles and temptations in their way – seeing humans acting holy with no Heavenly guidance made Aziraphale's heart hurt in a good way. You didn't get the variety, the dizzying range of smells and colours and sights and feelings and the beautiful relief of coming into the warm after the cold and wet because in Heaven it was always comfortable.
And…well…
In Heaven you didn't get demons with intense serpentine eyes and laughs that descended into a hiss. You didn't get demons that hung around for 6000 years because there was nothing better to do. You didn't get demons that smiled at you over glasses of champagne and drank with you late into the night .
In Heaven, you didn't get demons whose warm touch was more beautiful than anything you'd ever known.
Crowley was his vice. Alcohol was his sin. Walking through London's streets in the early morning, savouring the quiet, that was yet another unforgivable slip of his angelic nature. The whole world was a temptation, quick flashes of colour and sensation and life, a world that angels weren't meant to live in.
Aziraphale tilted his head back, unfurled his shimmering wings and looked at the stars.
He wished they were further away.
If you thought about it, he was pretty lucky. Heaven was supposed to be the paradise. The place where you tried as hard as you possibly could to go, all your temptation and sin- filled life. Where pure souls lived happily in peace and repose, and looked down their celestial noses at the suckers in Hell. Being created there, having the opportunity to be one of the first residents of such a pure and unimaginably beautiful place, well, it was certainly a good set-up.
But heaven…Aziraphale was starting to think that after 6 millennia on Earth he'd rather stay where he was.
An ungrateful bastard, yes. Still, feelings were treacherous things.
Heaven was holy solidified, but somehow…
In Heaven, you didn't get the smell of earth after a storm, and you didn't get the sharp wetness of wind flinging a handful of rain in your face. You didn't get hot golden afternoons full of mild sunburn and trashy romance novels, and you didn't get sprawling gritty cities with little second-hand bookshops and alleyways with old cobblestones and fierce, half-ashamed patriotism. You didn't get to see a human reaching out his hand to another human, despite all the obstacles and temptations in their way – seeing humans acting holy with no Heavenly guidance made Aziraphale's heart hurt in a good way. You didn't get the variety, the dizzying range of smells and colours and sights and feelings and the beautiful relief of coming into the warm after the cold and wet because in Heaven it was always comfortable.
And…well…
In Heaven you didn't get demons with intense serpentine eyes and laughs that descended into a hiss. You didn't get demons that hung around for 6000 years because there was nothing better to do. You didn't get demons that smiled at you over glasses of champagne and drank with you late into the night .
In Heaven, you didn't get demons whose warm touch was more beautiful than anything you'd ever known.
Crowley was his vice. Alcohol was his sin. Walking through London's streets in the early morning, savouring the quiet, that was yet another unforgivable slip of his angelic nature. The whole world was a temptation, quick flashes of colour and sensation and life, a world that angels weren't meant to live in.
Aziraphale tilted his head back, unfurled his shimmering wings and looked at the stars.
He wished they were further away.
Literature
.books. good omens
Crowley could not tell a good book from a bad book. To him, books were inherently bad, especially the ones with plump housewives on the front holding up freshly-baked foods, and those secret ones tucked into the back of shelves with 'aesthetically undressed' women on the front, and thus finding a gift for Aziraphale for a festival that he no more celebrated than a trip to the dentist's (hypothetically speaking, of course, as he was sure the dentist would have some odd questions for him upon sighting the inside of his mouth) was proving to be complicated.
A charming young woman had been nattering at his ear for a while. This was more harmful
Literature
.ineffable. good omens
Bad television was the root of all terrible ideas. It was a stretch to compare one to the other, but, as religion had shown, and history had hammered incessantly into the brains of anything more sentient than an amoeba, believing an insane fact was true simply because there was some coincidental evidence was fine as long as you believed it hard enough, yelled loud enough, and burned a few thousand Catholics for emphasis, or invaded a peaceful, non-war-mongering country and took all their food and curiously-shaped artworks. It might have been easier to say that bad television was the root of all Crowley's horrible ideas, or that bad television
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Woo!
Good Omens!
Good Omens is the best book ever. It's an absolutely hilarious apocalyptic novel co-written by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, two excellent writers.
Basically it's about an angel and a demon, Aziraphale and Crowley, who have lived on Earth for 6000 years and have become kind of friends, despite being technically on the complete opposite sides of the cosmic chess game. Then there's the Apocalypse upcoming, and yeah. Just read it.
This? This is taken from a short bit of introspective fan fiction I wrote about a year ago, actually at a sleepover at
's place. I found it just a little while ago, revamped it, added some implied Crowley/Aziraphale (slash! yay!) and here it is.
Crowley and Aziraphale belong to Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman, and I am only playing.
Please don't start any religious debates in the comments. This is not a statement saying that Christianity is crap, or whatever, I respect all religions. I'm simply taking some ideas from the book and extending them.
Good Omens!
Good Omens is the best book ever. It's an absolutely hilarious apocalyptic novel co-written by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, two excellent writers.
Basically it's about an angel and a demon, Aziraphale and Crowley, who have lived on Earth for 6000 years and have become kind of friends, despite being technically on the complete opposite sides of the cosmic chess game. Then there's the Apocalypse upcoming, and yeah. Just read it.
This? This is taken from a short bit of introspective fan fiction I wrote about a year ago, actually at a sleepover at
's place. I found it just a little while ago, revamped it, added some implied Crowley/Aziraphale (slash! yay!) and here it is. Crowley and Aziraphale belong to Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman, and I am only playing.
Please don't start any religious debates in the comments. This is not a statement saying that Christianity is crap, or whatever, I respect all religions. I'm simply taking some ideas from the book and extending them.
© 2011 - 2024 Meggie272
Comments24
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Very poetic, I enjoyed the book and I think you captured Aziraphale's character quit well.