Haley. she/her. 🇺🇸
permanently exhausted teenager, professional hyperfixator, fanfiction obsessor, serial crocheter, fanartist, and part time anxious blob.
current obsessions feature Good Omens, Michael Sheen's nose, and making myself sob over books.
people go read this if you haven't yet. it hurts so good and just ohh it's magnificent. you won't regret it (well maybe briefly from the gorgeous angst but recovery is in sight I promise)
flawless (E) (36k) (FIN)
Aziraphale steadfastly reminded himself this was a good thing. It hurt like nothing had ever hurt before, but the silver lining was actually bright, and broad, and glistened like diamonds. If he focused on that light ahead, he might not even feel the chill of the rain where it continued to pummel him.
we only ever talked about HALF of why these scenes were a big deal, like I just realized this today and my heart is going insane.
It’s not just that Crowley’s pissed at Gabriel for treating who he thinks as Aziraphale this way, the last thing he says to the people about to kill him is a benign and peaceful wish to see them again.
And like- this is Crowley trying to replicate Aziraphale to a T. So he legitimately just sees him as this endless well of compassion, someone who is always warm and accepting. It’s not just their friendship throughout the years, he remembers Aziraphale’s kindness on the Eastern Gate. When the angel had absolutely no reason to trust this random demon who just slithered up next to him. Crowley knows that he’s loved. Maybe not like that quite yet (although he’d be very wrong), but he knows that around his friend he’s always welcome and safe.
And Aziraphale?
Well he just thinks Crowley’s the coolest fucker alive, like he is laying it in THICK and enjoying every second. Listen to that charisma, look at that smirk. These are traits that are typically only appreciated in the context of how good it makes Crowley at tempting, a job he hates. But Aziraphale doesn’t see someone manipulative or regard this persona as signs of his “demonic nature”, he just sees Crowley. Someone charming, fun loving, and cute.
This is when we get to know precisely why they love each other, what exactly they see in the other.
edit: this is now my most popular post, good work team, lol
You’ve probably noticed how in Good Omens 2 Crowley’s eyes are brighter, more saturated, as if glistening with liquid gold. We’ve already covered his hair. And it’s not only the visual aspect of him — even in objectively stressful conditions, Crowley appears mature and put together, way cooler and more protective than before. Even his faults are heavily romanticized in the past and present scenes, reminding of the S1 body swap, when Aziraphale projected his love to him on the way he played the demon in Hell.
It’s not just the demon. The whole season is more vibrant, bolder, filled with sunshine. Just like a summer that was never supposed to end. Like a memory of a loved one seen through the eyes of someone who thinks of them every day until the end of the world.
S2 seems ridiculously saturated, whimsical, and full of red and gold, just like a certain demon. Aziraphale not only painted his bookshop in his image, but literally colored the whole world in Crowley’s colors. It was such lush and saturated and blooming with warmth and hazy light.
It’s either that all the newest events are just another memory seen through a certain angel’s eyes, or said angel actively made it appear this way — as in, his feelings grew so strong that they’ve started to warp the reality around him. And it’s a well-known fact that Aziraphale has a tendency to affect his surroundings, either unconsciously, when his presence in the bookshop literally lightens up the sky seen through its windows, or very much consciously, when he takes over the position of a master puppeteer and manipulates people with or without the help of his miracles.
S1 was more dramatic and apocalyptic, but not particularly gray — at least not as much as the color grading typically used in portrayal of similar apocalyptic narratives. S2, at least as seen through Aziraphale’s own La Vie En Rose lens, is vibrant and saturated. And those colors drastically fade in the heavenly light of the elevator during the credits, suggesting that they won’t be as visible in the course of S3.
But I don’t want to ramble about the apocalypse sandwich and the three-act structure here, so let’s circle back to S2.
Good Omens 2 was really set in a summer that was never supposed to end. But it did, autumn crept in, and there was no chance of hearing the nightingales sing. They all had left by the time an angel and a demon finally kissed.
In the most literal sense: the very last nightingales usually migrate from the UK to their wintering grounds in Sub-Saharan Africa in the first days of September.
Aziraphale was right that nothing lasts forever — and the passage of time on Earth is marked by subtle details invisible to the immortal eyes.
The main thing about autumn migration is how sudden and hard to predict it is. The birds start disappearing gradually, often without notice, until at some point they are no longer here. Much like the angel leaves the bookshop — their shared nest — to spread his wings and fight.
And it was basically announced on the poster.
Can you see the migratory formation of birds up in the sky? It looks like Aziraphale is the last one to get off the ground and fly.
And the South Downs National Park authority was so kind to inform us about it on Twitter earlier today.
You can listen to the full audio here.
If you plan to actually visit and hunt them down with your phone, remember that nightingales like to hide in dense scrub and woodland, singing from deep cover — it’s usually much easier to hear them than to see them!
And since only the first birds have just arrived, you may have better luck in a week or two. In the meantime you can read this meta on why it’s such a big deal anyway.
Big thank you to @gleafer for accepting to let me use this piece as illustration to this chapter! Go support her on Patreon -we promise that your loins will catch on FIRE ;)
Written by NegotiationReal6508 on our subreddit!
Chapter 7 of work in progress
TW/CW: Angst, Discussion of attempted suicide, implied character death, panic attack, some light smut.
Summary:
Crowley wakes up in a mental hospital with no memory of how he got there. Without his demonic powers, neither the doctors, nor the people who claim to be his family will believe he is who he says he is. With the evidence against him mounting, his only lifeline to the real world is a cryptic note left by an unseen messenger. The longer he stays in this hospital, the harder it becomes to recall for sure, is Crowley really a demon of Hell? Or has his entire existence been nothing more than a delusion conjured by a grieving mind?
Excerpt:
Crowley stood in a noisy airport at the arrivals gate holding a bouquet of red roses, fidgeting nervously. All of his usual laidback swagger was buried under a blanket of anxiety, his spine was a solid metal rod. He was always a little bouncy when Aziraphale came to visit, but this time was different. Crowley hopped his feet up and down like the floor was burning hot sand. He juggled the little box in his jacket pocket as he stared at the sliding glass doors, willing the familiar head of blond hair to appear through them. Were the roses too cliché? Maybe he should have gotten the peonies instead. Too late now.
“There, I see him.” Crowley turned to the young man beside him. “Are you recording?”
“Yeah, it's on,” said Adam.
“Right, here he comes.” Crowley shook out his shoulders and trilled his lips. He knew he looked ridiculous, but it was an airport; no one ever looked their best at an airport. He moved towards the beacon that was Aziraphale’s gleaming smile. His heart thudded like hoofbeats in his chest. Breathe, he reminded himself. Breathing and walking, those were the two main requirements at the moment. He had no idea what his facial expression was, he just hoped he was smiling too. God, Aziraphale was so gorgeous, even after eight hours on a plane. How was that even possible?
“Hello, my darling!” Aziraphale greeted him.
“Hi,” said Crowley, because that was about as eloquent as he could manage. He unceremoniously handed the bouquet to Aziraphale.
“Oh my!” Aziraphale chuckled. “Flowers? What's the occasion?”
And there was Crowley’s opening. Aziraphale was reaching out his arms for an embrace but Crowley needed to do what he came to do first. He bent down on one knee, and pulled the little box from his pocket.
Continue reading on AO3
Or start from chapter 1 - Dies Lunae
Special thanks to my beautiful betas: u/KotiasCamorra, u/Paperclip_Ninja