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The ~Nerd~Alert

@thenerdalert / thenerdalert.tumblr.com

Unapologetically nerdy. AO3 Handles The_Nerd_ Alert (Marvel fics) and ElysiumLeo (Good Omens fics). Adores a good cup of java. Doesn't take much to entertain me, tbh. (loves Good Omens, The Arcana, Stucky, Marvel, memes, Mando and his son Grogu, Lucifer, comics and all things Halloween)
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kivcraft

modern day who’s on second

“me saw who! me saw who!!!

I cannot stop watching this video. It’s fucking hilarious and I’ve watching it’s approximately 20 times already

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thenerdalert

I love this so much honestly. I can't stop giggling at the utter chaos.

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GOAD Writer's Guild: Paper Petals for Isolde (Chapter 8)

(@happynachohologram and @goodomensafterdark have my undying love as always!!! Thank you!)

Paper Petals for Isolde

by ElysiumLeo

Rating: E

Story CW: Lots of smut (heed AO3 tags and notes), Human AU, Star-Crossed Lovers, Gang Member Crowley/High Society Aziraphale, Fake Rivalry, Secret Relationship/Marriage, Mutual Pining, Drama and Romance, Angst/Fluff/Smut, Soulmates, Body Worship

Chapter CW: Gang Activity and Shenanigans, Verbal Confrontation, Verbal Threats of Violence, Implied Past Knife Fights and Attacks, Sexual Prowling (Averted), Threat of Knife Fighting and Violence (Averted)

Story Summary:

Crowley and Aziraphale have a big secret: they've been married for nearly four years. They've managed to keep their relationship under wraps, but the stress of keeping such a secret has been the biggest issue in their otherwise happily married life. Why is that, you might ask?

Crowley is a member of London's most notorious street gang, and Aziraphale was born into a high-profile political family. If either of their sides found out about their relationship, it wouldn't just be their marriage at stake...

But when Crowley opens his herbalist shop over the road from A.Z. Fell's, suddenly that secret becomes nearly impossible to keep. And when the rest of Whickber Street begins to suspect there's something going on between them, it will take everything in Crowley and Aziraphale's power to keep their star-crossed romance from unraveling before their very eyes.

Chapter 8 Excerpt:

“Right. Well, now that we’re all here, should we have a bit of a conversation? Perhaps go over a few of the goals we’ve been given and talk shop?” Hastur said, grinning at Crowley. “Surely you’ve got some interesting work accomplished you’d like to share… Might win you back some more points with old Luci.”

“Oh not this shit again,” Crowley grumbled. Cocking his hip, he held out his hand to him, flexing his fingers at them in a “give-me” gesture. “Let’s just get this over with so we all can move on with our night. What job does Luci have for me this time?”

Ligur snorted, glancing at Hastur. “Someone’s impatient. Should we have a bit of mercy on him?”

Hastur didn’t move. Instead, he kept his eyes locked on Crowley, the two held in a stare-down that seemed to last for ages, before he finally relented with a snicker. “Fine. But only because I’m already sick of lookin’ at his ugly face. Go get the case.”

Crowley listened, his eyes darting between the two of them as he watched Ligur disappear back down the hallway they’d come out of. A few moments later, he returned, carrying what looked to be a large black leather briefcase shining in the low light. “You’re joking. You pulled me out of bed for a case drop? Ain’t that a job for the shotters, Hastur?” Crowley asked, sneering at the two men as they approached him again. 

Hastur smiled, taking the case from Ligur. Stepping up to Crowley, he shoved the case into his arms and flashed him a wink. “Oh this ain’t for tonight, Crawly. We’ve got a very special job for you, you see.” Glancing down at the case, Hastur patted it fondly. “This case is special. S’got some real important shit that needs to be delivered. And we’re trusting you to get that job done, nice and easy like. Following me so far?”

Crowley listened, his eyebrows shooting up as he glanced at the case that had been unceremoniously shoved into his chest. “Well what the hell is it, then? The suspense is killing me.” 

“I like it when they’re curious.” Hastur grinned, glancing sidelong at Ligur before continuing. “See, we figured that you would be the perfect Boy to pull this off. We need someone we can trust to hold onto this for a while. Then, when the time comes, you’re gonna be sent to meet some very important people who are going to be so happy to see this.”

“Please don’t tell me you’ve got a bloody baby inside this case,” Crowley quipped, holding the case carefully as if he were afraid it might explode. 

Hastur and Ligur both burst out laughing. Clapping Crowley on the shoulder, Hastur continued. “Nah, nothin’ like that, even Luci ain’t that devious. S’just some important information that needs to be passed along, we’ll say. But in the meantime, we need you to keep this under wraps for us. We’ll call you when that special day arrives to deliver it.”

Crowley listened to them, his eyes darting between them as his trepidation grew. Finally working up the courage, he cleared his throat and offered up his best stern glare. "I'm not exactly keen on holding onto something this important for Lucifer. How do you know I won't get curious and decide to take a peek inside in the meantime?” 

Hastur turned back towards Crowley, giving him a sly wink. “You could, if you want to take a gander. Ain't really anything we could do to stop you, is there? But I’m sure you'll be a smart lad about it. Besides, I'm sure you know exactly what I'm talking about if I say they will be pleased as punch when they see what sort of fun plans they got waitin' inside for them...”

Like what you see so far? Give it some love on AO3! (Link leads to Chapter 8)

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me, a grown man with a full-time job and a relatively masculine image to acquaintances, realising seconds after ushering my very conservative 60 year old landlord into my bedroom to have a quick look round that he’s about to witness 30 plush toys on the bed, a cardboard cutout of timothee chalament, and framed art prints of crowley and aziraphale kissing

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dalliancekay

"You can stay at my place, if you like."

Remember this?

I was wondering today, why do (some) people still think that Aziraphale said this (and many other things he does/says) meaning that he doesn't want to stay at Crowley's place because he's still beholden to Heaven, it would be wrong etc etc.

Just as (some) people say he says I forgive you after Crowley kisses him because the kiss was a sin, a temptation and Aziraphale is offended by Crowley for doing this to him... I'm genuinely perplexed.

He's not saying, Oh, I don't think I should, Oh that would be wrong, Oh, are you out of your mind demon? He's saying: 'I don't think my side would like that.'

He spent 6000+ years worrying Crowley will get punished if their friendship/partnership/Arrangement/love was discovered. His first instinct here is the usual - I couldn't possibly, it would put you at risk.

We've seen how Heaven treats him. We have seen how he lies and deceives them repeatedly; S2 even starts with Aziraphale hiding his former boss from Heaven cos he knows he must be in BIG trouble to show up in his shop and he'll be damned (literally) before he gets them to do as they like with someone asking him for help without knowing what happened.

So why do (some) people assume he's helping Gabe out of some duty TO Heaven?

It's not that Aziraphale is not scared. He is. He knows Gabriel wanted to kill him a few short years before. He is not an idiot (this is a line I seem to be repeating in most of my posts).

He's not as dramatic about it as Crowley, but of course he's afraid. He is not missing Heaven in S2.

He's still terrified of them.

And that's why he's going there. That's why he's going to face his fears and save his life and his love or die trying.

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dalliancekay

Husbands

C: "Did you just shush me?" A: "You shushed me first!" C: "When did I ever...ahh"

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A: "What do you mean I'm being ridiculous with my hand gestures?

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A: 'I wonder how long it will take him to praise me for something for once.'

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'On a scale from one to million, how married are we?'

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'Darling, when did you first realise you might actually fall in love with me?'

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'Hmm, and when did you realise I obviously love you?'

Just a silly lil' parallel thingy cos who actually really works on a Friday afternoon.

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amuseoffyre

I've been rolling around in Good Omens thoughts again and a gifset made something jump out at me.

This is where the Metatron is going to come undone. He's got the same binary thinking as Heaven. Good or bad. Heaven or hell. Coffee or death. So predictable.

It reminded me of the scene in S1 when Aziraphale is confronted by the angels and they tell him "it's time to choose a side" and this is where it gets chewy and delicious.

Aziraphale points out "there obviously has to be two sides. That's the whole point, so people can make choices. That's what being human means - choices, but that's for them. Our job as angels should be to keep all this working so they can make choices".

He's already arguing for humanity all the way through S1, which is a problem, but it's something he's done consistently. Not questioning. Very much, not questioning. Just... offering suggestions. So this isn't news. He's even made these kind of suggestions to the Metatron before, so not new.

At the end of S1, Crowley points out that he thinks the real 'big one' is coming "Heaven and Hell against humanity". Aziraphale has been sitting with that knowledge for years. He and Crowley have been dancing on the edge of disaster with Heaven and Hell turning up whenever they wanted, invading their space, demanding their time and compliance even though they are seen as rogue agents.

Everything in S2 is Aziraphale trying to maintain the veneer of everything is fine while still dealing with the terror of it all falling apart. The "or death" has been hanging over them the whole time. He saw the attempted execution. He's been told by Heaven that Crowley is under threat.

But the thing about Aziraphale is that he never ever does the predictable thing. Yes, he agreed to go back to Heaven. Yes, the Metatron leveraged Crowley's safety against him to guarantee it. The statement of "I don't want to go back to Heaven" turning around as soon as Crowley's safety is brought into it. Yes, he'll be the Archangel.

But this is the angel who gave away his flaming sword and lied to God's face. This is the angel who interfered in a bet between God and Satan to save the lives of three children. This is the angel who collaborated with a demon so they could have more down time. This is the angel who was swayed towards saving the world because he loves his life there and all his favourite foods and music and indulgences. This is the angel who flipped the bird and dive-bombed out of Heaven to possess a medium and fly a scooter to the end of the world.

Whatever the Metatron thinks he's done by separating Crowley and Aziraphale, he has no idea what he's unleashed. Crowley's bee metaphor comes to mind here. Angels are fiercely protective of Heaven but once you're inside? Well, that's another story. Aziraphale may look like a bee, but he hasn't been a bee for a long, long time. They knew it at his trial.

And Aziraphale can't say he didn't warn them:

"So you're probably thinking if he can do this, I wonder what else he can do and very, very soon, you're all going to get the chance to find out"

Heaven's got a big storm coming and they let it right in through the front door.

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acheemient

I'm seeing a buncha theories saying that Aziraphale and Crowley have been having sex the whole time. May I please present to you my rebuttal? Here it is:

6000 year old virgins acting like they know what the fuck they're doing would be hysterical.

LONDON, INTERIOR - A.Z. FELL & CO. BOOKSHOP
JUST AFTER PREVENTING THE SECOND COMING, TAKING DOWN THE METATRON AND SETTING UP KARAOKE NIGHTS BETWEEN HEAVEN AND HELL EVERY THIRD THURSDAY OF THE MONTH. APOLOGY DANCES HAVE BEEN PERFORMED, ROMANTIC GESTURES HAVE BEEN MADE, LUNCH AT THE RITZ HAS BEEN HAD, CHAMPAGNE HAS BEEN TOASTED.
Aziraphale, trying to act casual, thinking he is succeeding (he's not): So..er..have you ever..done anything? Like this before?
Crowley, trying to act cool, thinking he is succeeding (he's also not): Oh Yeah! Pfft! Loooads of times! Regular..er...regular Sex God, me!
Narrator: He's lying.
Crowley: You?
Aziraphale: Oh yes, of course! Many...many times.
Narrator: He's also lying.
*Crowley and Aziraphale stare at each other, both trying to out-casual the other while also trying to look like beings who Have Definitely Done This Before
Crowley: So..how do you
Aziraphale (at the same time): Should we -
Both: *sputter and gesture to each other. There's a lot of "sorry, go ahead" and "please you first" and "what were you going to" "no no not important." At some point Aziraphal slips in an annoyed "you ARE the Sex God here after all." After that, they fall silent. It's awkward.*
Narrator: It's really fucking awkward.
Aziraphale, embarassed and a little annoyed: *huffs* Well?
Crowley, adding in some nonessential vowel sounds: wuh..ngh..well what??
Aziraphale, gesturing to Crowley: You seem to be the more experienced of the two of us, "Mr. Loooads of Times." *he even includes bunny quotations with his fingers. His impression of Crowley is not bad*
Crowley, offended (probably more vowels): Are you MOCKING me, angel?!
Aziraphale: Meee? Mocking? Not at all!
Narrator: He was mocking him.
Aziraphale: I just figured you would be the one to take charge, so to speak. You are the "Sex God" after all! *more bunny ears* So, go ahead, if you've done this so many times!! *he may be shouting a bit*
Crowley, spluttering even more, actually making sounds that most humans will never make in their lifetimes: How dare-I mean-I-That's rich coming from YOU, Mr. Discreet Gentleman's Club!
Aziraphale's eyes: *wide*
Aziraphale's cheeks: *red*
Aziraphale's mouth: *open*
Aziraphale: *shocked*
Crowley: Oh yes, I know allll about that Mr. Holier Than Thou!
Aziraphale: Have you been...SPYING on me??
Crowley: No!! But one hears things. Around.
Narrator: I didn't tell him.
Aziraphale: Things?? What things??
Crowley, leering, but somehow...angrily?: Thhhhiiiinnnnngsssss.
*Crowley may be hissing, he is very worked up*
Aziraphale, looking quite upset: It..it wasn't like that!!
Crowley, after a beat, his attitude drops. He knows he's gone too far: Angel-
Aziraphale: We simply danced! You know how I love to dance!
Crowley, trying to calm him: I know you do, angel. I shouldn't have said-
Aziraphale: And even if it was Like That, there would have been nothing for you to hear about anyway!
Both: *stare* Crowley looks surprised. Aziraphale looks embarrassed and a bit like he's going to cry.
Crowley: So you mean... you...never?
Aziraphale: *shakes his head vigorously. It would be kind of cute if he didn't look so sad*
Crowley, walks over to Aziraphale. He wants to hold him. He's not sure if he's allowed: Why?
Aziraphale, laughs but it could be a sob, honestly: Oh, Crowley. *Aziraphale takes Crowley's hands* You must know.
Crowley: *shakes his head no, but he does know. He's always known. He needs to hear Aziraphale say it*
Aziraphale, smiling up at Crowley: It's always been you. Only you. There's no one else on Earth or in Heaven or Hell that I want the way I want you.
Crowley: *sucks in a breath. One might call it a gasp. Crowley wouldn’t, but one might*
Aziraphale, gesturing with his hands again, (Crowley may whine when he Aziraphale takes his hands away): And I don't CARE if your are a...sex...god. I don't care how many people you've had sex with-
Crowley, trying to interrupt: Er..right. About that, angel..
Aziraphale: And, and you could have taken ALL OF EARTH to bed with you! ALL OF HELL! *waves his hands in a grand sweeping gestures*
Crowley, trying to recapture Aziraphal's hands: Well, let's not get...quite a lot of them have open sores, so...
Aziraphale, absolutely not listening to Crowley: None of that matters to me! Because we're here now!
Crowley, finally has Aziraphale's hands, but not his full attention: Angel, please -
Aziraphale: A group of the two of us!
Crowley: Probably could have phrased that better-
Aziraphale: Just like you said! Finally just Us-
Crowley: *gives up trying to use his words, finally just grabs Aziraphale's face and kisses him. With tongue.*
*it's a very nice kiss. The tongue is even nice. Finally, both of them pull apart. They are out of breath. They smile at each other*
Crowley, a bit sheepish: Me, too.
Aziraphale, not grtting it: You, too..what?
Crowley: I've never - with anyone. I - *he swallows. He can be brave. For Aziraphale. But he does tilt his eyes towards the ceiling, so he isn't looking directly at Aziraphale* Only you. For me. Too. As well. I -hmmm. *he's getting choked up*
Aziraphale, a little misty: Oh. *he isn't sure what else to say, but he's pleased. he tilts Crowley's face back to look at him again*
*they smile. Their eyes look a bit teary*
*they kiss again. It is gentle and quiet and romantic*
Aziraphale, pulling away from the kiss, but not going far. he's looking very pleased: If you really think about it, it's very sweet.
Crowley, pretends he doesn't like where this sentence is going, failing because he's smiling: Angel.
Aziraphale: Some might even call it...
Crowley: Don't say it. Don't you dare.
Aziraphale, leaning in and smiling, like a bit of a bastard: ...nice.
Crowley: *growls* I'll show you nice, angel!
Aziraphale: Oh, I do hope so!
*cut to them slamming into a bookcase while they kiss and try to strip at the same time. They accidentally pull books off the shelves, a hat stand with a black brimmed hat and a scarf gets knocked over, Crowley miraculously saves a lamp from crashing down without even taking his lips away from Aziraphal's. They are throwing clothing everywhere. Crowley hops around because he forgot to take his shoes off before his pants, Aziraphale gets frustrated with all his own buttons. Then he remembers he has ACTUAL MAGICAL POWERS. He snaps his figures, and suddenly they're both naked. Aziraphale absolutely Tackles Crowley, knocking him out of frame, and we just hear moaning and maybe a crash or two*
Narrator: Idiots.
WE ZOOM TO RIGHT OUTSIDE THE BOOKSHOP WHERE WE SEE A NIGHTINGALE SINGING ON A BRANCH. SUDDENLY A VERY LARGE CRASH AND AN EVEN LOUDER MOAN STARTLES THE NIGHTINGALE. IT LOOKS EXTREMELY OFFENDED AND SCANDALIZED AS IT FLIES OFF.

I wrote this for me. Please be nice.

I love it, it’s so very ineffable idiots

I adore this.

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GOAD Writer's Guild: Paper Petals for Isolde (Chapter 7)

(as always, massive kudos to @happynachohologram and @goodomensafterdark for all the love, beta work, and support!)

Paper Petals for Isolde

by ElysiumLeo

Rating: E

Story CW: Lots of smut (heed AO3 tags and notes), Human AU, Star-Crossed Lovers, Gang Member Crowley/High Society Aziraphale, Fake Rivalry, Secret Relationship/Marriage, Mutual Pining, Drama and Romance, Angst/Fluff/Smut, Soulmates, Body Worship

Chapter CW: Childhood Bullying, Cursing (by a child), Implied Religious Indoctrination, Mild Mentions of Blood, Mild Violence (children fighting), Negative Classism Interactions

Story Summary:

Crowley and Aziraphale have a big secret: they've been married for nearly four years. They've managed to keep their relationship under wraps, but the stress of keeping such a secret has been the biggest issue in their otherwise happily married life. Why is that, you might ask?

Crowley is a member of London's most notorious street gang, and Aziraphale was born into a high-profile political family. If either of their sides found out about their relationship, it wouldn't just be their marriage at stake...

But when Crowley opens his herbalist shop over the road from A.Z. Fell's, suddenly that secret becomes nearly impossible to keep. And when the rest of Whickber Street begins to suspect there's something going on between them, it will take everything in Crowley and Aziraphale's power to keep their star-crossed romance from unraveling before their very eyes.

Chapter Excerpt: (Chapter set in 1997)

Aziraphale watched in stunned fascination, jaw dropped and gaping at the sight. He was so entranced in the fight he was witnessing, he barely noticed when a young girl ran up to him, her hands darting down to pull Aziraphale up to his feet by the shoulders. 

“Oi, you okay?” the little girl asked, breaking Aziraphale’s fascinated focus.

Blinking, Aziraphale glanced at the girl, taking in the sight of her. She was short, with a round face and sandy red hair. Her expression was hard with concern, her eyes searching his face for any indication that he’d been hurt. Swallowing thickly, Aziraphale shook his head, the two of them ignoring the pummelling happening just a few feet away from them. “Y-Yeah, I’m okay. But who are you? And who’s that?” Aziraphale asked, glancing back towards the fight at their right.

Before them, the one-sided fight raged on, rendering Sandalphon a sobbing mess in the mud. The skinny boy kept at it, until at long last, Sandalphon managed to get a hand in edgewise, grabbing at the collar of his shirt and blocking a fist from striking him again. With a titanic effort, Sandalphon managed to heave the other boy off of him, throwing him to the side. With a dismayed cry, Sandalphon rolled to his feet, and Aziraphale gaped at the sight of his face. 

Sandalphon’s face was a mask of mud, a large bruise forming on his cheek and twin trickles of blood running down his lip from his nose. It seemed that the skinny boy hadn’t managed to hurt him as much as Aziraphale had thought. Instead, it had been the feral attack, the screaming insults, and the wild flailing of fists from a boy much smaller than him that had done most of the work, utterly shattering Sandalphon’s bravado. 

Somehow, in Aziraphale’s mind, he knew that the damage to Sandalphon’s ego had hurt him more than the broken nose. Sandalphon, cocky brute that he was, had been thoroughly beaten at his own game. 

“You bleeding psycho!” Sandalphon yelled, backing away from where he’d tossed the other lad to the side. As the skinny youth began to rise to his feet, Sandalphon’s eyes widened in fright, fearing another furious attack. Turning on his heel, Sandalphon took off, running desperately into the woods to escape his would-be attacker, and completely forgetting Aziraphale where he’d left him.

The woods fell silent for a moment, the air cut only by the ragged breathing of the other as he squared off, staring in the direction that Sandalphon had run off. “Yeah, you better keep runnin’, bruv!” he shouted after him, bending down to grab a stick and whip it wildly in his direction. 

The stick hadn’t managed to go very far, but to Aziraphale that was as much of a threat as another beating, and he found himself utterly enthralled by his saviour. Glancing away from where Sandalphon had charged back through the trees, his eyes landed on the back of the other boy. He recognised those long limbs and that tall stature. He recognised the mop of messy red hair, now sticking up in all directions, and the faint lisp in his speech.

And when the boy turned around at last, Aziraphale recognised the bright amber eyes that he’d liked so much when he’d met him three years prior...

Like what you see so far? Check out the story on AO3 below! (link leads to chapter 7)

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Mad Sweeney through the ages

Or, as Bilquis put it: the leprechaun, the hill spirit, the pagan warrior, the madman, and the great and golden king.

I felt like putting together a little quick-ref guide to all the different forms of Mad Sweeney we have seen as of American Gods 2.07, arranged in the order in which he lived them. Because I think it’s a hugely interesting progression and wanted to kind of organize everything we know! My primary source is the show canon, but I’ve supplemented the outline it sketches using additional names, dates, etc., from sources such as the Buile Suibhne, the Irish annals, and the AG novel to clarify details and fill in some gaps.

Of course, details vary between sources. The mutable, inconsistent nature of mythology is a key theme of Sweeney’s journey, and even within the series, the accounts of his backstory repeatedly contradict each other. So ultimately, these are my personal interpretations of what the series has shown us thus far and how I think it fits in with traditional literary/folkloric sources (or at least with particular versions of them).

Lugh, god of the sun, of luck, of the arts, and of kingship; a High King of the Tuatha Dé Danann several thousand years ago. (The Annals of the Four Masters put his reign from 1870 BCE to 1830 BCE, making him at least ~4,000 years old, though Pablo Schreiber has mentioned the figure 6,000 in interviews.) Called Lámfada (“long hand”) for his skill with his yew-wood spear; also called the Shining One. Grandson of the giant, one-eyed Fomorian tyrant Balor, who tried to drown him and the rest of his grandchildren in a lake to avoid a prophesized death. Lugh survived, however, and later slays him in the course of driving out the Fomorians at the second Battle of Mag Tuireadh, during which High King Nuada is killed by Balor and after which Lugh becomes king. Sweeney believes Balor to be the source of his predilection for madness. 

Suibhne mac Colmain, son of Colmán Cuar and pagan warrior-king of the Dál nAraidi in Ulaid during the early Christianization of Ireland, circa the 7th century CE. Husband to Eorann, daughter of Conn of Ciannacht. When St. Ronan Finn dared try to build a church, Cell Luinne, on Suibhne’s lands, Suibhne retaliated to the sound of the bells by throwing Ronan’s psalter into the lake and spearing one of his priests. For this, Ronan cursed him to madness, wandering, and death by the spear: “May it be thus that he will ever be, naked, wandering and flying throughout the world; may it be death from a spear-point that will carry him off.” Flees the Battle of Magh Rath after foreseeing his death the night before (as he claimed in 1.07), or after hearing banshees wailing upon his arrival at the field (as claimed in 2.07), or, according to the Buile Suibhne, simply after being driven out of his senses by the frenzy of the battle itself. The Annals of Ulster place this battle in the year 637; the Annals of Tigernach, however, place it in 639 and, intriguingly, record that Suibhne was indeed among those slain.

Suibhne Geilt (“Mad Sweeney”), husband to Eorann and father to Moira. Unlike the other forms we see of Sweeney, which are more separated by time and more significantly transformed, this is still Suibhne mac Colmain. Bereft of his lands and status as a result of his desertion at Magh Rath, where his allies were defeated without his aid, he’s now a madman suffering under Ronan’s curse. In his madness, he is often compared to a bird, living unclothed and “among branches” like one and flying across the world so swiftly that his feet seldom touched the ground. Interestingly, Eorann claims in 2.07 that Ronan cursed him after Magh Rath, as a punishment for his desertion, which contradicts the story about the priest and the psalter that Sweeney recalls elsewhere in this episode.

One of the Fair Folk, in the last twilight days as Christianity was securing its hold on the land and transforming the myths about his kind. One night, he lies with a seer who tells him he will be undone and abandoned west of the sunrise, his fate sealed by a dead woman’s bauble. In some versions of the tale, however, he is murdered that very night in or near the refuge of St. Moling, either on the saint’s order or by his swineherd or cook. Though Sweeney as we see him here is now a fairy rather than a human, the inclusion of Moling links this era of Sweeney’s evolution to the traditional tale of Suibhne mac Colmain and thus illustrates the way in which people’s changing beliefs were in the process of transforming Sweeney from a legendary king into one of the fae. As there’s no mention of him being considered specifically a leprechaun at this point, I wonder whether this might be the “hill spirit” Bilquis refers to, or perhaps, per the novel, the guardian of a sacred rock in a glade.

A leprechaun of the aos sí, the people of the mounds, who live beneath hills. Beyond general fairy folklore, we know little about what Sweeney’s life was like at this specific time, as we glimpse him only on the periphery of the life of Essie McGowan, a resourceful 18th century woman from Bantry Bay who leaves him tribute throughout her life, keeps the traditional beliefs alive, and ultimately brings him with her to the New World. No longer a god, no longer a king, he’s very much being left behind by the world by now and feels even more lost in America. Nonetheless, the fact that he takes it upon himself to collect Essie personally at the time of her death demonstrates his gratitude and affection toward her and reflects his nature as a creature who is simultaneously loyal and fickle, reciprocating what he’s given for good and for ill.

Last but very much not least: Mad Sweeney as we know him today, a jaded, bellicose, fast-living alcoholic leprechaun whose memory of his own past has become incoherent and whose heart and code of honor are buried under a great deal of disillusionment and pain. Lately in the employ of Odin, known to Sweeney as Grimnir, who has promised to give Sweeney a chance to redeem himself in battle for his desertion at Magh Rath.

And as for where he goes from here… who knows? But I very much hope that we haven’t seen the last of this journey, and if we’re lucky enough to see more of him, I look forward to seeing who he becomes next.

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