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vocab_drabblesTitle: And the Show Goes On
Fandom: Good Omens
Author: Cat Moon
Rating: PG
Words: 508
Characters/Pairing: Aziraphale, Aziraphale/Crowley
Summary: Aziraphale reflects on his choices
Notes: Just a little ficlet I wrote for the prompt last year but never posted. Spoilers for the end of Season 2.
"Mudita," Aziraphale murmured to himself, noting with detachment how a few angels nearby traded nervous glances and picked up their pace away from him.
They were used to him talking to himself. They didn't know that it was Crowley he spoke to, even though the demon was far away.
Further away than he'd ever been.
The Supreme Archangel sighed, staring out the observation window at Earth. It pleased him to be thinking Buddhist thoughts, a minor rebellion. He still had the freedom of his thoughts, at least.
Angels were supposed to practice mudita, regardless of whether they used that particular phrase or another. To watch over humans with pure love, guiding them in the direction of good without thought for themselves. Angels weren't supposed to have desires or to want anything for themselves.
Aziraphale was bad at it.
Oh, he loved the humans he'd been charged with protecting, with the selfless love of an angel that, sadly, he'd seen few of his peers practicing. That part came as easy to him as it seemed beyond the others, with their self-serving insistence on following a plan for the glory of heaven – at the expense of everyone who didn't meet their exacting standards. If such a thing was even possible. They saw no pleasure in human happiness. In contrast, Aziraphale gloried in seeing the human's happy, content to watch them living their lives. He took pleasure in seeing them triumph, reveled in their joy. And loving… it amazed him how much loving they were capable of.
It was the desire for more that Aziraphale struggled with. He wanted so desperately that it lodged in his chest until he felt he couldn't breathe, even though celestial beings weren't supposed to feel those things. All the things he wasn't supposed to feel.
The desire for Crowley.
To openly show love and be shown in return.
He wasn't sure why, but suddenly this weighed upon him in a way he hadn't in the past millennia.
He and Crowley might never see each other again, and their last words had been in anger. Why had he wasted all that time?! For what?
Pretending that we're not...
If he didn't stop the second coming, everything would end. Alpha Centauri too, surely Crowley knew that, but was wanting to spend whatever time they had left together such a selfish wish?
And I'd like to spend…
"Oh god." He felt sick. Another impossibility in heaven. Maybe he was indeed an impossibility then. Just like the feelings between them.
Everything was wrong, and he was up here, struggling alone, to make it right. To fix it. It was noble and selfless…
But it hurt.
Aziraphale took a deep breath. He had a job to finish what they'd started the first time the End was thwarted… once and for all. It was the only way to save them all.
If it worked, he had to trust that he and Crowley would be reunited and able to mend the hurt between them. If it didn't… nothing would matter anymore anyway.
Fandom: Good Omens
Author: Cat Moon
Rating: PG
Words: 508
Characters/Pairing: Aziraphale, Aziraphale/Crowley
Summary: Aziraphale reflects on his choices
Notes: Just a little ficlet I wrote for the prompt last year but never posted. Spoilers for the end of Season 2.
"Mudita," Aziraphale murmured to himself, noting with detachment how a few angels nearby traded nervous glances and picked up their pace away from him.
They were used to him talking to himself. They didn't know that it was Crowley he spoke to, even though the demon was far away.
Further away than he'd ever been.
The Supreme Archangel sighed, staring out the observation window at Earth. It pleased him to be thinking Buddhist thoughts, a minor rebellion. He still had the freedom of his thoughts, at least.
Angels were supposed to practice mudita, regardless of whether they used that particular phrase or another. To watch over humans with pure love, guiding them in the direction of good without thought for themselves. Angels weren't supposed to have desires or to want anything for themselves.
Aziraphale was bad at it.
Oh, he loved the humans he'd been charged with protecting, with the selfless love of an angel that, sadly, he'd seen few of his peers practicing. That part came as easy to him as it seemed beyond the others, with their self-serving insistence on following a plan for the glory of heaven – at the expense of everyone who didn't meet their exacting standards. If such a thing was even possible. They saw no pleasure in human happiness. In contrast, Aziraphale gloried in seeing the human's happy, content to watch them living their lives. He took pleasure in seeing them triumph, reveled in their joy. And loving… it amazed him how much loving they were capable of.
It was the desire for more that Aziraphale struggled with. He wanted so desperately that it lodged in his chest until he felt he couldn't breathe, even though celestial beings weren't supposed to feel those things. All the things he wasn't supposed to feel.
The desire for Crowley.
To openly show love and be shown in return.
He wasn't sure why, but suddenly this weighed upon him in a way he hadn't in the past millennia.
He and Crowley might never see each other again, and their last words had been in anger. Why had he wasted all that time?! For what?
Pretending that we're not...
If he didn't stop the second coming, everything would end. Alpha Centauri too, surely Crowley knew that, but was wanting to spend whatever time they had left together such a selfish wish?
And I'd like to spend…
"Oh god." He felt sick. Another impossibility in heaven. Maybe he was indeed an impossibility then. Just like the feelings between them.
Everything was wrong, and he was up here, struggling alone, to make it right. To fix it. It was noble and selfless…
But it hurt.
Aziraphale took a deep breath. He had a job to finish what they'd started the first time the End was thwarted… once and for all. It was the only way to save them all.
If it worked, he had to trust that he and Crowley would be reunited and able to mend the hurt between them. If it didn't… nothing would matter anymore anyway.
