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fandomweekly2024-03-18 03:43 am
mxcatmoon) wrote in fandomweekly2024-03-18 03:43 am
Entry tags:
[#212] Hope Springs Eternal (Good Omens)
Theme Prompt: #212 - Hope
Title: Hope Springs Eternal (as inevitable as dawn)
Fandom: Good Omens (TV)
Rating/Warnings: PG (references to season two)
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 395
Summary: Crowley listens, and wonders. It vaguely references events of season two, but it's ambiguous and open-ended enough that you can imagine any scenario you like.
Hope is a fragile thing that trembles like a little bird, a nightingale that's forgotten how to sing, hidden inside a special pocket in Crowley's jacket. It's always there, even though it gets battered and bruised through millennia. Shored up with all the stubbornness the demon could throw at it, waiting.
Waiting for someday.
There is so much hope in that word, as the centuries tumble past without regard for vulnerable feelings. Until wrenched from his soul. From the beginning, it was the promise of a future that could never be…but no one has ever accused Crowley of being wise. It was a defense against despair and hopelessness. He should have expected this outcome; there is no room for that particular sentiment when one lacks the free will to change anything. What he would have done for the chance to make the dream a reality. Anything. He would have given everything.
No. Almost anything. And that feels like the bitterest pill of all.
And now, after the shock and numbness has worn off and he struggles to figure out what comes next, Aziraphale is here again, offering, wanting, and speaking forbidden things with a promise that they are possible after all.
Hope is battered and bruised, though. What will it take to rekindle the flame, weave the careful threads of a comingled existence back together again?
What of trust? Is it shattered at their feet or made of something more potent even than love?
Standing at the window and watching the sky lighten from over the top of his dark lenses, Crowley has no answers. Instead, he watches as dawn overcomes the lingering darkness and listens as Aziraphale talks until he is hoarse.
He's right (he usually is), but Crowley isn't going to tell him that. Probably. Maybe.
Six thousand years and neither heaven nor hell could keep them apart, holy water and hellfire be damned. Someone knows common sense couldn't do it. Even they don't seem to be able to manage, no matter how badly they cock everything up.
Hope may be in short supply, but imagination is this demon's forte. It has allowed him to do the impossible when even miracles prove useless. Perhaps he can imagine hope until it once again blooms.
Crowley carefully removes his sunglasses. Letting dawn sort itself out, he turns toward Aziraphale and opens his mouth to speak.
Title: Hope Springs Eternal (as inevitable as dawn)
Fandom: Good Omens (TV)
Rating/Warnings: PG (references to season two)
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 395
Summary: Crowley listens, and wonders. It vaguely references events of season two, but it's ambiguous and open-ended enough that you can imagine any scenario you like.
Hope is a fragile thing that trembles like a little bird, a nightingale that's forgotten how to sing, hidden inside a special pocket in Crowley's jacket. It's always there, even though it gets battered and bruised through millennia. Shored up with all the stubbornness the demon could throw at it, waiting.
Waiting for someday.
There is so much hope in that word, as the centuries tumble past without regard for vulnerable feelings. Until wrenched from his soul. From the beginning, it was the promise of a future that could never be…but no one has ever accused Crowley of being wise. It was a defense against despair and hopelessness. He should have expected this outcome; there is no room for that particular sentiment when one lacks the free will to change anything. What he would have done for the chance to make the dream a reality. Anything. He would have given everything.
No. Almost anything. And that feels like the bitterest pill of all.
And now, after the shock and numbness has worn off and he struggles to figure out what comes next, Aziraphale is here again, offering, wanting, and speaking forbidden things with a promise that they are possible after all.
Hope is battered and bruised, though. What will it take to rekindle the flame, weave the careful threads of a comingled existence back together again?
What of trust? Is it shattered at their feet or made of something more potent even than love?
Standing at the window and watching the sky lighten from over the top of his dark lenses, Crowley has no answers. Instead, he watches as dawn overcomes the lingering darkness and listens as Aziraphale talks until he is hoarse.
He's right (he usually is), but Crowley isn't going to tell him that. Probably. Maybe.
Six thousand years and neither heaven nor hell could keep them apart, holy water and hellfire be damned. Someone knows common sense couldn't do it. Even they don't seem to be able to manage, no matter how badly they cock everything up.
Hope may be in short supply, but imagination is this demon's forte. It has allowed him to do the impossible when even miracles prove useless. Perhaps he can imagine hope until it once again blooms.
Crowley carefully removes his sunglasses. Letting dawn sort itself out, he turns toward Aziraphale and opens his mouth to speak.
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