I Know That Everyone Is Waiting To Find Out Who Met Surprised Poor Drunk Crowley On The Bridge - And

Anonymous asked:

"How do you know that 'Sorrows of Satan' is a better book than 'Faust' if you don't even read books?"

1. Lovely, clever human people inventing cars, and motorways... and audiobooks. 

2. Actually met Marie Corelli because downstairs was very interested in her soul. Needless to say, she thwarted me pretty much the same way her character Mavis did with Lucio/Satan. Also, needless to say, Satan in the book took the rejection much better than sulky old me. Never met Goethe though, his soul was always too sure a thing.

3. An angel I used to know got the book recommended by some Irish bloke we both used to know - Oscar - I believe. Wrote books, too, and they threw him in prison for no other reason than having a boyfriend... People, *shakes head* I will never get the hang of you.

Anyhow, said angel was head over heels for the book and went on for hours how the heroine is a clever, free-spirited, and creative author while Goethe's Gretchen is the typical two-dimensional saint-harlot that male authors used to write back in the days.

4. 'm a Demon! *snorts* I might have lied.

Where we left off:

Nina, purveyor of coffee, whirling into the scene like a thunderstorm, woke our hero from his precious sleep (and a weird dream) to give him - me - another telling-off.

She's quite scary when she's angry. Not demon scary, but most definitely human scary.

"Do you even understand how all of this affects Maggie?" I'm not surprised at the burst of emotion in her voice as she says the name.

"She's been worried sick about you! Trying to write to you, trying to call you, and some days even waiting by your car for you to wake up, so she could make sure you're all right."

"I'm not." How does she even find me? I drive around and park the Bentley in different places every couple of days.

"We KNOW. Do you think none of us has gone through breakup before?"

Well, maybe you have. I certainly haven't. I don't do relationships and I have no idea how to process this. Except for drinking, sleeping and curling up in a little snake ball of pain.

"Of course it's bad. It hurts like hell..."

Worse. Speaking from experience here.

"... and you have every right to be sad and mopey and angry, but stop shutting out your friends. Talk to us! At least let us know where you are and what's going on."

"I don't have friends. Never wanted friends. Completely friendless person, me."

She sighs. "Yes, you're a devil and you're evil, blah blah blah, real man solves his problems on his own. Heard all of that before, except maybe the devil part. But you've got to realize that your actions have consequences for others. You're not alone in this world."

But I am.

I've always been alone. For 6000 years on this godforsaken planet, doing the bidding of my ridiculous headoffice and trying not to go completely insane. Using every excuse to be close to my angel and every excuse not to get too close, so we wouldn't be in trouble. Missing him after every encounter, every meeting, every conversation. Sometimes positively yearning for his presence, but never ever being able to act on it.

Because that's just the way things are.

I was alone the last time I hit rock bottom. Healing one step at a time, slowly piecing myself together after my 33 years of torture. Because I allowed myself to save one human soul and got caught at it. One. Single. Human. Soul.

No good deed goes unpunished.

I never had anyone to talk to because angels are my enemies, demons are my rivals and humans wouldn't be able to shoulder all this bullshit that's been going on with me. And God doesn’t answer to any of us.

And yet, Nina has the nerve to come here, shake me awake and tell me that I'm not alone? That I’m supposed to 'talk about it'? Throw overboard all my harshly earned survival skills because now apparently, I have friends?

No, absolutely not. I don't make 'friends' with other people. It's not something demons - the word is demon, not devil - do. You can stop pretending to care now and walk away.

She doesn’t.

Instead, she throws my very own words back at me. “For once in your life trust somebody!”

~ * ~

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Well as the Lily quoted the Will....

"Aziraphael, Aziraphael, wherefore art thou Aziraphael. For a book in any other cover would read so well.."

Besides, whyever would I need a potion to sleep? And, believe me, if Aziraphale tried to stab himself, he would most likely miss.

NEIL GAIMAN I AM SO SCARED THAT GOOD OMENS WON'T END HAPPILY☹️

It won't. It will have a very tragic ending. Crowley takes a sleeping potion, but Aziraphale thinks Crowley is dead and plunges a dagger deeply into his fair breast. Crowley wakes and, finding Aziraphale dead, becomes, in his heartbreak, a furniture delivery person and is crushed to death by a falling wardrobe. Then everybody cries.

One last day to go at Leipzig bookfair.

Until I continue the diary, I'll leave you some very cute pics of Crowley and Aziraphale cosplayers whom I saw walking by our booth.

There even was a big cosplay meetup of about fourty to fifty people, which I unfortunately couldn't attend 'cause I was working. Well, maybe next time. 😁

Yours truly in a nutshell. 😈

#just crowley things (aziraphale)

Where we left off: Shax, newly anointed Duchess of Hell, jumpscared our hero in his bentley….

…. and apparently, she wants to bribe me with liquor-filled chocolates to come back to Hell. I’m not going back, but first I puncture the chocolates with a pen to drink all the liquor. Oh, and did I mention I’m small? (the puncturing and drinking thingie wouldn’t work too well if I was my usual size).

“Stop deluding yourself, Crowley. Deep inside, you already know that Aziraphale left for one reason only. You are a demon and you will never be good enough for him.” Shax tilts her head to the side in one of those familiar bird-demon gestures and watches me intently with one eye.  “How does that make you feel, Crowley? Hurt? Angry? Will you let an angel treat you this way? Break you and cast you away like a used toy?”

I clench the pen and ram into the next piece of chocolate like a tiny lance. This is ridiculous. She doesn’t know the least thing about my angel. However delusional Aziraphale may be for believing he can make a difference in Heaven, deep down his intentions are good. He never wanted to hurt me.

“You gave up everything just to be with him, and you’ve risked everything, even your own destruction. And at the first grasp of power – he’s gone!”

No. No, no, no, no! This isn’t about power. Aziraphale doesn’t care about power at all. He wants to change the system from within. He wants to turn Heaven into the place of light, he always believed it’s meant to be.

But in this belief, there’s no place for a demon. There would have been a place for the angel I was, but I can no longer be that angel.

Shax’ eyes glitter. “I’m not offering you a job, Crowley, I’m offering you a chance at revenge. Rise from the ashes and use that burning fury inside you against the one who wronged you. Unite with me and strike him down on the battlefield in the Great War to come.”

Revenge? Burning fury? I almost choke on the burning whiskey running down my throat. Course, I understand where this is going, she wants to me to direct my anger against Aziraphale. She wants me to become the big bad demon in shiny black armour raining fire and destruction in his unquenchable thirst for vengeance.

Bloody Heaven, I can almost picture this. Aziraphale and me having a face-off in the midst of battle. He’s probably wearing something silvery-white and carrying – I don’t know – some flaming sword or lancea-longini-spear-of-destiny-thingie. And then we’d look into each other’s eyes and stab each other very dramatically with Heaven and Hell watching. And maybe, just maybe, we’d die even more dramatically in each other’s arms with white and black wings entwined.

There’s only one little mistake in this scenario, we did this whole silver knight - dark knight scenario a thousand years ago in King Arthur’s Court and it hasn’t become any less pathetic since then. And second – a crank handle isn’t really made for stabbing. Or fighting in wars for that matter.

“Sorry, Shax.” I’m back to normal size now, sitting in my usual seat behind the wheel. “Nice career option, just not seeing myself there. Anyway, thanks for the booze and tell Hastur, I said ‘hi’”.

She looks at me incredulously. “This choice will have consequences. If you stand aside like a coward, you will be crushed like one.”

“There are always consequences.” I shrug. “But it’s not cowardice, although you probably don’t believe me.”

“What is it, then?” She eyes me suspiciously.

“I just don’t feel it, Shax. All this silly power play for rank and influence and who-get’s-the-biggest-throne-and-the-shiniest-medal. I know, we demons are supposed to live for this, but I just don’t care.  And, you know, that eternal-fiend-thing with the angels? Don’t feel that either.”

“Earth has made you weak.” She shakes her head. “All of us will assemble and take our positions in the last stand. Like on a chess board. If you don’t take yours, you will be totally insignificant in the game to come. And my offer was better than anything you could've hoped to achieve. You could’ve been my Second-in-Command, once I sit on Beelzebub’s old throne.”

She can’t know that she’s already the second person to offer me a position like that. The third, actually, if you count “The United States of Beelzebub”.

No.

No Heaven for me. No Hell for me. I’m done.

“I’m perfectly fine with being insignificant.” I want to add more, but she’s already vanished.

Anyway, I’m keeping the coffee. Or in my case, the liquor.

~*~

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"Aziraphale would probably disagree about the introvert part.

My plants would too, if they dared something to say on the matter."

Nah!

Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah!

I'm not using you as a messenger angel to pass messages to the stupid git.

That would be because I've got nothing to say to him.

Noted Support me on ko-fi : http://ko-fi.com/veykun

"She was a remarkable woman, Eve!

Hope, you all made some noise for International Women's Day!"

-So....you're not like us? -Nyeah, no, we look similar, but we are angels. Er, my colleague is. I'm a demon. -What's the difference? -Hah, good question. I guess you could say I had to leave our Eden, in a sense. -...and he didn't go with you? -He...that's...It's not like with you and Adam. Uh, sorry for getting you kicked out, by the way. I didn't know She'd be so tetchy about the apple. -Don't be, it was getting kinda boring in there. -...knew I liked you for a reason.

i'm a crowley&eve friendship truther, and a big proponent of nanny! crowley to cain and abel (later events ....notwithstanding)

Things to Do Today

1. Sober up and get rid of hangover

2. Ponder on how ridiculous this is

3. Get drunk again because I can't deal with this sober

I thought they were off to Alpha Centauri. Living that sweet life we will never have...

Well, it seems things don't always work out for other people, too.

Obviously. But let's rewind to last night and try to sort this all out.

"I was going to mysteriously appear in your car", Beelzebub said, "but somehow I can't get in anymore."

Oh.

"Also, when I tried to miracle myself in, the car suddenly turned yellow. Like some kind of defense mechanism."

OH!

"Things have changed, Beelzebub. You have to be invited in. And I'm certainly not go... gonna do that."

"Well, that's all right." They take a step closer. "We can just talk here."

"And I certainly don't want to talk."

"I brought booze."

My eyes shift between the empty bottle I'm holding and the full bottle in their hands.

Sigh.

I throw the empty bottle into the Thames (Yes, I should litter, I'm a demon after all. And maybe some hermit crab can build a home in it. Or some little fish family. Oh, lookey here, it's Nemo and the guys.)

Beelzebub passes the full bottle to me. It's obviously not miracled out of Hell, it's good old Earth stuff.

Mhm. Smells like it, too. And I just remembered that Nemo is a saltwater fish.

And so are hermit crabs.

I take a deep sip. Well, obviously not fish, but well.. you know.

"I heard about Aziraphale," Beelzebub looks at me with a sympathetic gaze and suddenly I feel the need to throw up. "I'm sorry, things didn't work out."

Bloody Heaven! I'm not going to talk to them about Aziraphale. It's bad enough with Maggie and Nina trying to get me to talk about Aziraphale, but Beelzebub? Really?

This is one of the few times I'm actually speechless, but being a fellow demon, Beelzebub should fully well be able to read my death glare.

They do. "Well, that's all right. Gabriel and I broke up, too, and I don't want to talk about it either."

They WHAT? They thwarted both Heaven and Hell for their love and now they fall out of it after barely three months?

Lucky for the both of us, Beelzebub freezes the bottle in mid air before it smashes on the ground. They grab it, take a big sip and pass it back to me.

We stand in silence, staring at the river. All is quiet, except for the city noises in the background, the sound of the water and the occasional burp from one of us as we devour the alcohol.

I know, I'm gonna regret this. I'm gonna regret this big time.

"So", I ask, turning to Beelzebub. "What exactly happened?"

~*~

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