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fandomweekly2022-03-24 08:14 pm
mxcatmoon) wrote in fandomweekly2022-03-24 08:14 pm
Entry tags:
[#068] The Demon Behind the Mask (Good Omens)
Theme Prompt: #068 - Masks
Title: The Demon Behind the Mask
Fandom: Good Omens
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 (warning for discussion of Covid-19)
Bonus: No
Word Count: 388
Summary: Aziraphale suffers for humans; Crowley suffers for Aziraphale.
Note: I was hesitant about posting this to the challenge originally, so I didn't. I'd forgotten all about it until now, when I dusted it off and tweaked a few things, and I hope I've done a respectful job on a sensitive subject. Like most, I have not been unaffected, I've had friends who were hospitalized. I still wear a mask, even though most people where I live don't anymore (and I have been vaxxed and boosted). As usual when I'm going through difficult times in my life, I wanted to use my favorite characters to work through it by writing fanfic, but except for this one fic, I never did.
Aziraphale came bustling into the flat, setting several shopping bags down on the floor by the table.
Crowley looked up from his loose sprawl on the divan, channel surfing through the news reports of crime, disasters, and mayhem on the telly. It was his favorite binge-watching.
"Anything good, then?" he asked. It's not that he especially wanted to know, but his Angel would tell him, in detail, for long minutes, so best get it started so he could go back to watching disasters.
"Well, not good, sadly..." Tutting, Aziraphale reached into the bag closest to him and pulled out a white and a black face mask. He handed the black one to his demon.
"What, another plague already?" Crowley asked with a raised eyebrow. "Time flies, doesn't it?"
Aziraphale shook his head sadly, a hint of disappointment coloring his expression. Unfortunately, Crowley was used to seeing that look directed at him.
"They're calling it a pandemic. Covid-19," the Angel explained.
"So what are these for?" Crowley gestured to the masks. "We don’t have to worry about that sort of thing affecting us."
"No, but we have to blend in, don't we? Besides, it's required in many establishments, the ones that are still open, that is."
"Ah," he nodded his head. "You mean your favorite restaurant won't let you in without a mask on."
Aziraphale sniffed, and the demon had the feeling he was treading on thin ground with his levity this time. "If those poor humans can suffer, this is the least we can do in support. And to make them feel safer, after all, they don’t know we’re immune."
Sighing in capitulation, Crowley stood up and placed his black mask against Angel's face. "Actually, I think I like you all in angelic white, with just a touch of darkness to spice it up," he drawled.
Aziraphale paused for a considering moment, then lifted the white one to the demon. "And you with that hint of goodness shining through."
Crowley grabbed the remote and shut off the television. He could tell his Angel was deeply upset by current developing events, and he couldn't be unaffected by his beloved friend's pain. What hurt Aziraphale hurt him. "What can I do to help?"
"Just hold me."
Crowley took his Angel's hand, leading him towards the bedroom.
"That I can do."
Title: The Demon Behind the Mask
Fandom: Good Omens
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 (warning for discussion of Covid-19)
Bonus: No
Word Count: 388
Summary: Aziraphale suffers for humans; Crowley suffers for Aziraphale.
Note: I was hesitant about posting this to the challenge originally, so I didn't. I'd forgotten all about it until now, when I dusted it off and tweaked a few things, and I hope I've done a respectful job on a sensitive subject. Like most, I have not been unaffected, I've had friends who were hospitalized. I still wear a mask, even though most people where I live don't anymore (and I have been vaxxed and boosted). As usual when I'm going through difficult times in my life, I wanted to use my favorite characters to work through it by writing fanfic, but except for this one fic, I never did.
Aziraphale came bustling into the flat, setting several shopping bags down on the floor by the table.
Crowley looked up from his loose sprawl on the divan, channel surfing through the news reports of crime, disasters, and mayhem on the telly. It was his favorite binge-watching.
"Anything good, then?" he asked. It's not that he especially wanted to know, but his Angel would tell him, in detail, for long minutes, so best get it started so he could go back to watching disasters.
"Well, not good, sadly..." Tutting, Aziraphale reached into the bag closest to him and pulled out a white and a black face mask. He handed the black one to his demon.
"What, another plague already?" Crowley asked with a raised eyebrow. "Time flies, doesn't it?"
Aziraphale shook his head sadly, a hint of disappointment coloring his expression. Unfortunately, Crowley was used to seeing that look directed at him.
"They're calling it a pandemic. Covid-19," the Angel explained.
"So what are these for?" Crowley gestured to the masks. "We don’t have to worry about that sort of thing affecting us."
"No, but we have to blend in, don't we? Besides, it's required in many establishments, the ones that are still open, that is."
"Ah," he nodded his head. "You mean your favorite restaurant won't let you in without a mask on."
Aziraphale sniffed, and the demon had the feeling he was treading on thin ground with his levity this time. "If those poor humans can suffer, this is the least we can do in support. And to make them feel safer, after all, they don’t know we’re immune."
Sighing in capitulation, Crowley stood up and placed his black mask against Angel's face. "Actually, I think I like you all in angelic white, with just a touch of darkness to spice it up," he drawled.
Aziraphale paused for a considering moment, then lifted the white one to the demon. "And you with that hint of goodness shining through."
Crowley grabbed the remote and shut off the television. He could tell his Angel was deeply upset by current developing events, and he couldn't be unaffected by his beloved friend's pain. What hurt Aziraphale hurt him. "What can I do to help?"
"Just hold me."
Crowley took his Angel's hand, leading him towards the bedroom.
"That I can do."