#And poor aziraphale wants to do so with him but he's just not very good at it

[wanyinchen]

We all know that S3 is gonna be about the Second Coming-slash-Final Judgement blah blah blah blah blah but what i NEED is for Jesus to radiate so much little sibling energy™. I need them and Crowley to be a chaotic-sibling-bestie duo ok??? It's one of the only ways i can heal

[taurielofmirkwood77777]

Can we all stop with the "Aziraphale is wrong, Crowley is right" mentality please? The whole season was spent of saying "nothing is just black and white, everything is in shades of grey" and yet a lot of people are still falling for the black and white thing. BOTH were right and BOTH were wrong. Let's unfold this, shall we?

Starting with the elephant in the room, yes, Aziraphale was wrong for thinking he can change Heaven. We, as an audience, saw just how awful Heave can be, when Aziraphale didn't for the most part. He doesn't know why Gabriel is fired and he never learned how Heaven treated "him" after he averted Armageddon. He doesn't know all of that, but we do, so it's not fair to blame him for it. Him believing that he Crowley wants to be an angel again is simply due to the lack of communication between them. Both in season 1 and 2, Crowley mentioned multiple times that him falling was not fair because he never did anything more than just ask questions, unlike other demons who were all against Heaven. So Aziraphale assuming that that means he would like another shot at being an angel is completely reasonable.

Now, Aziraphale was also right for taking the job. Considering the events of season 2, it was very clear that Heaven wouldn't simply let Aziraphale and Crowley exist in peace after everything. Yes, they had 4 years of peace, but for immortal beings, that's more like 4 hours. Aziraphale wants to make sure that he and Crowley CAN exist without the constant fear of revenge or punishment. After all, we were just introduced to the Book of Life and there's nothing stopping Heaven from erasing one or both of them from existence forever. Aziraphale doesn't want to be with Crowley if that means living in constant fear, because that's not really a living, is it? He needs to do something about it. Even if Crowley doesn't see it that way, Aziraphale has to do something to keep them both safe, if not the entire Earth. So his choice of going to Heaven may not be "good", but it sure is the most logical.

As for Crowley... poor Crowley. He doesn't get it. In season 1, he came to Aziraphale and had to work to convince him to stop Armageddon from happening. And the moment he thinks that it can't be stopped, he decides to run away. And that idea stuck. Up until that moment back in season 1, Crowley didn't even entertain the idea of leaving Earth. But from that point onward, it's the only thing he thinks about. He brings it up every chance he gets. You could even argue that being a coward is one of the reasons he became a demon in the first place (sorry not sorry). But running away isn't an option. Running may save him from the problems going on on Earth, but no matter where he goes, he can't get away from Heaven and Hell. They can always pull him back, they can do worse things from afar. But Crowley doesn't see it. He tells Aziraphale "You can't leave this bookshop." as if that's not what he was planning to do since episode 1. Crowley loves the Earth. Even more so than Aziraphale. He plays dress up every chance he gets, he drinks poison for fun, he cares about the health of ducks and is clearly indulging himself in alcohol much more than Aziraphale does in food (speaking of, he was also the first one to consume human food and drinks and the reason Aziraphale does so in the first place). He's the one who convinced Aziraphale to stop the destruction of Earth in the first place. But Crowley is also very stubborn.

At the same time, Crowley knows better than anyone how Heaven and Hell work and how that can never be changed. He saw first hand how Heaven treats its own angels (I'm including Gabriel in this) and realises it's all a trap. He can tell. He fears for Aziraphale's life, and even for his if he were to accept it. Crowley tries to warn him more than anything. But just knowing everything is a scam is not enough.

The only way for Aziraphale and Crowley to be able to just be together is for them to make sure they can. And the only way to do that is by going in the belly of the beast.

[feathered-serpents]

Y’know. I’m kinda surprised I haven’t seen more people (including myself) think about exactly what Maggie and Nina said to Crowley during that what ten, twenty minute conversation?

They walked in and Crowley was his usual “can’t be bothered” cool guy persona. When they told him he and Aziraphale never talk he gives a witty one-liner in response. He’s FULL Crowley in that scene

And then the scene cuts and we don’t get to hear what was said, but when Aziraphale walks in his demeanor was totally changed. He’s nervous now. Raw. Literally on the verge of tears trying to finally talk to Aziraphale after what was, again, a brief conversation

Honestly. I think all they did was point out the obvious

Maggie: “You love him.”

Crowley: “That’s a very strong word.”

Maggie: “Is it?”

Nina: “I’d say it’s not strong enough.”

Crowley: “Whatever you’re suggesting- No! We just know each other- a lot.”

Maggie: “Yes! We’ve noticed.”

Nina: “That’s a big reason why.”

Maggie: “Look, we live in the same world you do-“

Crowley: “You really don’t.”

Nina: “We do have eyes.”

Maggie: “He loves you back. That’s the hardest part!”

Crowley: “It’s not.”

Nina: “Yeah, not always for us… I know how personal these things can be and whatever you’ve got seems a hell of-“

Maggie: “Maybe avoid the “H” word.”

Nina: “Yes. Poor choice there.”

Maggie: “Mr. Crowley, all we’re saying is if you talked to him-“

Nina: “Really talked to him.”

Maggie: “-it might not be so scary?”

Crowley: “And what am I supposed to say?”

Nina: “Whatever you need.”

Maggie: “Whatever you want.”

Crowley: “…”

Nina: “I never thought I’d have a life after Lindsay. When she left I didn’t know what to do. And I still don’t for sure but… I know the sun came up again. And I know this time I’m not going to waste it.”

Maggie: “The sun’s been up for awhile for you two, hasn’t it?”

Crowley: “…maybe.”

Nina: “Maybe’s good.”

Maggie: “Maybe’s a great place to start.”

And that is when Aziraphale walks in, and Nina and Maggie stand to leave.

“I’m sure you two have a lot to talk about!”

[bowtiepastabitch]

Historical Analysis: class and injustice in 'The Ressurrectionists' minisode

Alternate title: why we're tempted to be upset with Aziraphale and why that's only halfway fair

Okay so first off huge thanks to @makewayforbigcrossducks for asking the question (and follow-up questions lol) that brought me to put these thoughts all together into a little history nerd ramble. That question being, Why is Aziraphale so clueless? Obviously, from a plot perspective, we know we need to learn some lessons about human moral dilemmas and injustices. But from a character perspective? A lot of this minisode is about Aziraphale being forced to confront the flaws of heavenly logic. This whole idea that "poverty is ineffable" basically boils down to 'yeah some people are poor, but their souls can be saved just as if not more easily that way, so it's not our problem and they probably deserve it anyway for not working hard enough,' a perspective that persists in many modern religious circles. Aziraphale isn't looking at the human factor here, he's pretty much purely concerned about the dichotomy of good and wicked human behavior and the spiritual consequences thereof, because that's what he's been told to believe. His whole goal is to "show her the error of her ways." He believes, quite wholeheartedly, that he's helping her in the long run.

"the lower you start, the more opportunities you have"

So here's what we're asking ourselves: Why did it take him so bloody long to realize how stupid that is? Sure, he's willing to excuse all kinds of things in the name of ineffability, but if someone in the year of our lord 2023 told me he was just now realizing that homelessness was bad after experiencing the past two centuries, I'd be resisting the urge to get violent even if he WAS played by Michael Sheen.

Historical context: a new type of poverty

Prior to the 19th century (1800s), poverty was a very different animal from what we deal with now. The lowest classes went through a dynamic change leading up to the industrial revolution, with proto-industrialization already moving people into more manufacture-focused tasks and rapid urbanization as a result of increasingly unlivable conditions for rural peasantry. The enclosure of common lands and tennancies by wealthy landowners for the more profitable sheep raising displaced lots of families, and in combination with poor harvests and rising rents, many people were driven to cities to seek out new ways of eeking out a living.

Before this, your ability to eat largely would have depended on the harvest in your local area. This can, for our purposes, be read as: you're really only a miracle away from being able to survive the winter. Juxtapose this, then, with the relatively new conundrum of an unhoused urban poor population. Now if you want to eat, you need money itself, no exceptions, unless you want to steal food. Charity at the time was often just as much harm as good, nearly always tied deeply up in religious attitudes and a stronger desire to proselytize than improve quality of lie. As a young woman, finding work in a city is going to be incredibly difficult, especially if you're not clean and proper enough to present as a housemaid or other service laborer. As such, Elspeth turns to body snatching to try to make a better life for herself and Wee Morag. She's out of options and she knows it.

You know who doesn't know that? Aziraphale.

The rise of capitalism

The biggest piece of the puzzle which Aziraphale is missing here is that he hasn't quite caught onto the concept of capitalism yet. To him, human professions are just silly little tasks, and she should be able to support herself if she just tried. Bookselling, weaving, farming, these are all just things humans do, in his mind. He suggests these things as options because it hasn't occurred to him yet that Elspeth is doing this out of desperation, but he also just doesn't grasp the concept of capital. Crowley does, he thinks it's hilarious, but Aziraphale is just confused as to why these occupations aren't genuine options. Farming in particular, as briefly touched on above, was formerly carried out largely on common land, tennancies, or on family plots, and land-as-capital is an emerging concept in this period of time (previously, landowners acted more like local lords than modern landlords). Aziraphale just isn't picking up on the fact that money itself is the root issue.

Even when he realizes that he fucked up by soup-ifying the corpse, he doesn't offer to give them money but rather to help dig up another body. He still isn't processing the systemic issues at play (poverty) merely what's been immediately presented to him (corpses), and this is, from my perspective, half a result of his tunnel-vision on morality and half of his inability to process this new mode of human suffering.

Half a conclusion and other thoughts

So we bring ourselves back around to the question of Aziraphale's cluelessness. Aziraphale is, as an individual, consistently behind on the times. He likes doing things a certain way and rarely changes his methodology unless someone forces his hand. Even with the best intentions, his ability to help in this minisode is hindered by two points: 1)his continued adherance to heavenly dogma 2)his inability to process the changing nature of human society. His strongest desire at any point is to ensure that good is carried out, an objective good as defined by heavenly values, and while I think it's one of his biggest character hangups, I also can't totally blame him for clinging to the only identity given to him or for worrying about something that is, as an ethereal being, a very real concern. Unfortunately, he also lacks an understanding of the actual human needs that present themselves. Where Elspeth knows that what she needs is money, Aziraphale doesn't seem to process that money is the only solution to the immediate problem. This is in part probably because a century prior the needs of the poor were much simpler, and thus miraculous assistance would never have interfered with 'the virtues of poverty'. (You can make someone's crops grow, and they'll eat well, but giving someone money actually changes their economic status.) Thus, his actions in this episode illustrate the intersection of heavenly guidelines with a weak understanding of modern structures.

This especially makes sense with his response to being told to give her money. Our angel is many things, but I would never peg him as having any attachment to his money. He's not hesitant because he doesn't want to part with it, he's hesitant because he's still scared it's the wrong thing to do in this scenario. He really is trying to be good and helpful. So yes, we're justifiably pretty miffed to see him so blatantly unaware and damaging. He definitely holds a lot of responsibility for the genuine tragedy of this minisode, and I think Crowley pointing out that it's 'different when you knew them' is an extremely important moment for Aziraphale's relationship with humanity. Up until now, he's done a pretty good job insulating himself from the capacity of humans for nastiness, his seeming naivity at the Bastille being case in point.

In the end, I think Aziraphale's role in this minisode is incredibly complex, especially within its historical context. He's obstinate and clueless but also deeply concerned with spiritual wellbeing (which is, to Aziraphale, simply wellbeing) and doing the right thing to be helpful. While it's easy to allow tiny Crowley (my beloved) to eclipse the tragic nature and moral complexity of this minisode, I think in the end it's just as important to long-term character development as 'A Companion to Owls'. We saw him make the right choice with Job's children, and now we see him make the wrong choice. And that's a thing people do sometimes, a thing humans do.

~~~

also tagging @ineffabildaddy, @kimberellaroo, and @raining-stars-somewhere-else whose comments on the original post were invaluable in helping me organize my thoughts and feelings about this topic. They also provided great insight that, in my opinion, is worth going and reading for yourself, even if it didn't factor into my final analysis/judgement.

If I missed anything or you have additional thoughts, please please share!!! <3

[ennas-aesthetic]

What the fuck is Jesus up to in Good Omens season 3?

This is a question I've been thinking long and hard these past couple of days and I have some THOUGHTS SO. Buckle up.

Aziraphale and Crowley watching the Crucifixion (Good Omens, 2019)

First off. The answer to the question posited is relatively simple. What is Jesus up to in GO3? With s2's ending in mind and with the hints we've gotten for 668: Neighbor of the Beast over the years, we know he's descending to Earth to initiate the Second Coming. And that Aziraphale would probably make that happen - or do everything that he can as Supreme Archangel to sabotage it.

But I wanted to examine on how Jesus might fit into Good Omens' overall narratives and established themes - about morality and humanism and free will, and. I'm just saying, there are A LOT of fascinating routes they could do for his character.

(Disclaimer as usual: this is a theory that I obsessed over when I was stuck at the cemetery during All Souls' Day and must be treated as such. In no way am I insisting this should be how canon events must happen. I am just doing this for the funsies.)

The THING about Jesus if you situate him in the world of Good Omens (with the assumption that most of the pop culture Christology mythos associated with him remain intact) is that in this context he very quickly becomes: 1. Adam Young's narrative foil; and 2. an Aziraphale parallel.

Now, the first one is obvious. Of COURSE he is Adam Young's foil, duh. Adam isn't called the ANTICHRIST for nothing. Brought into the world just for the sole purpose of ending it. However, when the time comes for him to fulfill the Will of his Satanic Father, Adam flat out REFUSES.

Both the book and the show attribute this to Adam's human upbringing. He was raised as a human, and because of that he has the trait that the book uses to DEFINE human beings: free will. At the end, Adam had the AGENCY to reject the destiny planned out for him.

'Adam stood smiling at the two of them, a small figure perfectly poised exactly between Heaven and Hell.

Crowley grabbed Aziraphale's arm. "You know what happened?" he hissed excitedly. "He was left alone! He grew up human! He's not Evil Incarnate or Good Incarnate, he's just… a human incarnate—"'

- (Good Omens, 1990)

That is NOT what happened to Jesus.

Adam Bond as Jesus in Good Omens (2019)

Like Adam, he was raised as a human -- being a human incarnate was his WHOLE DEAL in Christology. In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us... yada yada yada.

UNLIKE, Adam, though, Jesus wasn't able to REJECT his Destiny of Dying Really Horribly and Painfully on the Cross. Narratives in the Bible also made it clear that the Crucifixion was NOT his Will, but that of God's. Like... him begging to be spared from torment but ultimately following God's Will is such an important event entire devotional practices are made out of it.

"39 And he went a little farther, and fell on his face, and prayed, saying, O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt."

- (Matthew 26: 39, KJV)

We get a glimpse of that in s1ep3 of Good Omens, too:

"JESUS

(muttering through the pain)

Father, please . . . you have to forgive them . . . they don’t know what they are doing . . .

Crowley, in black, comes up next to Aziraphale.

CROWLEY

You’ve come to smirk at the poor bugger, have you?

AZIRAPHALE

Smirk? Me?

CROWLEY

Well, your lot put him on there.

AZIRAPHALE

I am not consulted on policy decisions, Crawley."

- (The Quite Nice and Fairly Accurate Good Omens Script Book, 2018)

SO. Here we have the character of the Christ whose free will and agency had been STRIPPED from him in the guise of a "noble sacrifice." He comes back again on this Earth to fulfill another "inescapable destiny."

Aziraphale and Crowley need to stop him. The solution the Good Omens narrative offers to "inescapable destinies and systems" (both in s1 and s2) is for the character to realize they have the freedom to choose their own fates. It happened with Adam, and it happened with Gabriel, and perhaps it will happen to Jesus.

(At this point my sister frowned and said: "Are you telling me you think Aziraphale and Crowley are going to help Jesus realize he has agency and that him Dying on the Cross for the 'Great Plan' was kinda fucked up actually?" which sounds crazy when you put it like that BUT NEVER SAY NEVER BABIE.)

Because that brings me to my second point: if this all happens, Jesus becomes an AZIRAPHALE parallel.

In the same way Anathema is an Aziraphale parallel and Sergeant Shadwell is an Aziraphale parallel. Here is a character stuck in a suffocating status quo. To save the world, he needs to know he can escape that status quo and decide for himself. In the same way Anathema has to learn how to stop being a descendant or Shadwell to stop being a Witchfinder, or Gabriel to stop being an Archangel, and Adam to stop being an Antichrist, perhaps Jesus has to learn he can stop being... Well, the Christ, as well.

And this, of course, supplements Aziraphale's journey of letting go of the idea of being an idealized vessel of God, so he could finally enjoy the freedom of personhood and choice on Earth, with Crowley.

Or they could turn Jesus into a cackling villain who Aziraphale and Crowley need to kill in season 3, and I'd probably eat that up, too.

[minervas-hand]

Right to fear, wrong to believe

Just had a horrible realization and needed to meta it out.

How different they were before Edinburgh, when Crowley was sucked down into Hell.

Look at this flirty babygirl in the Bastille:

I mean could he climb that tree any faster?

(This is why I really like fics that place a more physical relationship here, pre-Bastille or just post-Bastille, because c'mon look at them. )

In S1 the next thing is 1862 and Crowley asking for insurance (with a cane ffs). And Aziraphale freaking out with his "fraternizing" BS. It's jarring, until we get 1827 filled in for us in S2.

@takeme-totheworld notes in this post:

Crowley sure went from "our respective head offices don't actually care how things get done" and "nobody ever has to know" to "walls have ears" FAST after Edinburgh. And Aziraphale went from looking at Crowley with hearts in his eyes to "I've been FrAtErNiZiNg" just as quickly. I'm more convinced than ever that Edinburgh was the first time Crowley ever actually got caught and punished for fucking around with Aziraphale/doing good deeds/whatever it was they yanked him back down to Hell for, and it scared the absolute shit out of both of them and changed the whole tone of their relationship after that.

Yes! - it's clear to me as well that the Edinburgh graveyard was a very bad turning point, where they both saw that Hell was listening and would intervene. And it did change their relationship drastically, for over a century and a half (really, until looming Armageddon loosened up the stakes for them).

But what about Heaven?

See the thing is, we know Azi's been worried about Heaven watching him for the past 6000 years.

But they haven't.

[GIFs posted by starrose17]

All this time, and Heaven had not seen them together. Hadn't noticed. Had not even LOOKED.

I want to mention what @starrose17 says about this here in this post:

What I love about this is her choice of words, “went back through the Earth Observation files.” This implies that these photos were already filed somewhere meaning somebody had to have been watching them which meant somewhere in the depths of the bureaucratic heaven there’s an underpaid angel clerk tasked with watching angels on Earth, and he’s been hording photos of his favourite Angel/Demon couple not reporting them to Michael because he wants to see what happens.

And that's exactly what this fic covers!: Spying Omens by @ednav

(Give this a read, it's fabulous.)

While I am here for this being exactly how that happens, the other scenario is colder and worse - there's no one watching, at all. It's just filing automatically and never seen until some Scrivener is called to pull a file.

From @fuckyeahisawthatat's comment here :

I found this scene to be quite chilling, actually. Not only is the idea of Heaven as a surveillance state brilliant (way to make “God is always watching” sound way more ominous) but this is exactly how modern surveillance states work. They don’t actively watch everybody all the time. That’s not physically possible for humans, and even if it is metaphysically possible for Heaven, it’s not a very efficient use of resources. Surveillance states watch people they deem “suspicious.” And once you’ve been put in the category of “suspicious,” they have massive amounts of data that they can comb through to collect a lot of information about you–to retroactively build a case justifying why you’re suspicious, to collect information about where you go and who you associate with, etc.

Yes.

So we either have secret collusion in the rank and file, or we have a surveillance state that is constantly reinforced to its subjects for fear's sake, for control.

(Well, it obviously could be both.)

BUT my point is… Up until Edinburgh, Hell has not been watching (or caring at least). And up until near the end of Armageddon't, neither has Heaven.

Oh, my poor Angel. Thousands of years, of denying yourself, of pushing Crowley away, of carrying around a tension that is it's own constellation.

After 1827 you might have reason, but for the 5000+ years before that?

Thousands of years and Heaven was not watching nor cared.

You were right to fear. And you were wrong to believe.

And that just breaks my heart.

[ineffable-suffering]

Why Aziraphale is an unreliable narrator

Part 2: The Story of wee Morag

This is Part 2 of 3 total metas. Here are:

Part 1, in case you want to read about my analysis of the Story of Job first

and Part 3, in case you're impatient and want to jump ahead.

Fair warning though, for the sake of understanding some of the references, you're probably better off reading this chaptered meta chronologically. However, every part should work just as well as a standalone! I'll do my very best to make it so.

Alright, off or on you go beyond the cutty cut!

I'll start this second part off with a very brief summary of the main take aways and points from Part 1, which go as such:

Memory, as opposed to a third party's narration, is not a factual, objective retelling of a story or event. It's mingled and mangled with emotions, imaginations and exaggerations, projecting both the feelings and impressions you had back then as well as those you might have now in the present time back on whatever it is you are remembering. (Which is why we need to put everything that Aziraphale is remembering into the context of what he might have felt in the past, as well as what he's feeling right now.)

While this doesn't mean his (or anyone's) memories are lies, it does mean they're a very subjective and sometimes factually distorted representation of what actually happened, which, in our case, gives us a lot of subtext and a lot of not-there furniture to figure out and look at.

So, let's continue with S2E3 and the Story of wee Morag. We start our flashback with a scene of Aziraphale writing his diary entry on the 10th of November, 1827. Immediately, it's firmly established that this is once again not an outside-point-of-view narration, but rather what Aziraphale remembers and wrote down.

One thing that immediately stuck out to me here, is how helpful and kind Crowley is to Elspeth, pretty much from the very beginning when they meet her in the graveyard. Not only does he take on a Scottish accent so she won't perceive him as English (as she does with Aziraphale), but he also helps her drag the barrel that has the fresh body in it and, in the end, even pulls it all by himself while Elspeth simply follows behind them. Here's a rather poor-quality picture, for reference:

Now, we know that despite not showing it very often, Crowley has always been very fond of the humans and never really put himself on a pedestal simply because he's an immortal being himself. He likes humans, just like Aziraphale does. But, just like this story will tell us, Crowley knows that on top of liking humans, you can't just put them into boxes of good and evil and expect them to always do what is supposedly the "right" or "divinely good" thing to do. (Which is what differentiates him from Aziraphale in the way he understands and treats them, as we're shown in this minisode).

Him immediately and unspokenly helping Elspeth with dragging the barrel therefore might also be a first sign of a tiny projection from present day Aziraphale, as opposed to what Crowley might have actually done (probably just walked beside her, like Aziraphale) because he has the knowledge that Crowley really was so very kind to her in the end, wasn't he? And that he's kind to humans in general. ("Not kind! Off my head on Laudanum!" Sure, babe.)

Most of this minisode, in my opinion, is actually there to establish how Aziraphale's view of morality and good vs. evil used to be quite flawed and elitist –– and how Crowley has always been there to gently nudge him towards questioning his black and white view of heavenly right and hellishly wrong. That's why I think there's not as many hints in this minisode about Aziraphale's memories not being an accurate portrayal of what happened, as there are in the Story of Job or the magic show in 1941. (And, fear not, the latter will definitely be the most hint-heavy one). Alas, there's still a few bits and bobs in the Story of wee Morag that stuck out to me, that make a brief yet good case of the whole unreliable narration thing.

First of all: The way Aziraphale describes all of it in his diary is so different from the way we see him actually remembering it. It's almost like he tried to write this entry (and possibly all of his diary) as a bit of a thrilling short story, with himself as the main character. Which makes sense, given the fact that he adores books and would certainly be keen on dabbling in the art of capital-w Writing himself. It's yet again hinting at the fact that sometimes people (and angels) try to polish and bedazzle stories (and memories) to make them seem more exciting and adventurous, often to distract from the not-so-fun parts of it.

Like when Aziraphale's diary narrates:

"It was with heavy heart we arrived at Elspeth's destination. I was determined to thwart her monstrous plan!"

... and yet we see Crowley and Elspeth casually walking down the alleyway, very obviously not heavy-hearted in the slightest, while Aziraphale nervously scurries on behind them, very obviously not determined to thwart. (Timestamp-wise, it's around 17:38 in S2E3, in case you want to see for yourself.)

We get another cinematographic/auditory hint at the fact that Aziraphale's memory is heavily influenced by what he's feeling that very moment, when Dr. Mister Dalrymple –– FRCSE, thank you very much –– shows him the tumor he removed from the seven year old boy. You can see the shock and horror on Aziraphale's face once he learns of this child's cruel fate. We then proceed to hear Mr. Dalrymple's voice grow sort of echo-y and far away as the sad music swells up and drowns out his voice almost completely. It's awfully similar to what it feels like when really horrible news are broken to you and you dissociate and drift into a state of shock. Here's the clip of it, so you may listen for yourself:

It's clear that this is a very subjective portrayal of what Aziraphale is going through during this part of the memory. He's deeply horrified and saddened about the little boy having passed away so early in life – and we hear and feel this shock with him. Through him, because this is his memory. Whatever it is he's feeling and thinking, we're feeling and thinking it too because we're seeing it through his lense.

Another (less sad) hint at a possible exaggeration is the abnormally deep hole Crowley makes the two graveyard watch keepers fall into. I'm pretty sure he's very much in charge of his miracles, making this random slip-up seem a little silly – which is why I'm also pretty sure the "Might have slightly overdone it on that hole" is a wee bit of a meta hint at this just being another one of Aziraphale's dramatic bedazzlements of this story. For the *flings feather boa around neck* drama!

You know what else might be exaggerated? Hm, I dunno, maybe Crowley growing into the size of a tree for no apparent reason. Sure, yes, he's pretty high on Laudanum which is making him a bit loopy. But apart from that, it does seem an awfully big cinematographic euphemism for him being the metaphorical (and, once again, for the drama of it) literal bigger person in this scenario. He's the one who ends up saving Elspeth and who manages to secure a safe life without poverty and grave robbing for her. While Aziraphale was so tangled up in his own moral journey and main character-ism, missing that wee Morag was seconds away from death already, Crowley is the one who actually ends up growing stepping up for the human in need and saving them for good (pun intended).

In a way, it might just be Aziraphale's view of/feelings for Crowley in this very moment. Watching the demon outgrow what, according to Aziraphale's heavenly logic, is supposed to be a foul fiend, bestowing evil upon humanity – and growing into someone who does the exact opposite and saves Elspeth instead. Another larger-than-life character development, in Aziraphale's eyes. Literally.

Let's switch back to the topic of the diary entry one last time, so I can make my final point of the this minisode's unreliable and a smidge over-dramatic narration of Dr. McFell. If you pay close attention, Aziraphale starts the entry we're all getting to experience with: "Last month, Crowley and I both happened to be in Edinburgh." Which means it didn't actually happen on the 10th of November, but rather at some point in October, 1827. Once we see Crowley get hydro-pumped back to Hell after rescuing Elspeth, the minisode ends with, presumably, the last sentence of Aziraphale's diary entry: "And that was the last I would see of Crowley for quite some time."

Take my hand and let's look at where the furniture isn't: This very clearly means that Crowley couldn't have been gone for more than a month, at best. Read again: "It happened last month and that was the last I would see of him for quite some time." This, albeit indirectly, clearly implies that when Aziraphale had sat down to write the diary entry, he had already run into Crowley again. Otherwise his phrasing would have probably been more along the lines of "... and I haven't seen Crowley since" or "... and Crowley has yet to return from wherever it is Hell's currently keeping him".

What's the point I'm trying to make? Good question. I guess my main point of storyteller Aziraphale being a bit over-dramatic in his narration is simply backed up by this, since A Single Month would barely pass as "quite some time" for an immortal being like him. And yet that's how he puts it, in his little Confidential Journals of A.Z. Fell, Vol. 603.

And another point that has absolutely nothing to do with the topic of this meta (but I'm still gonna make it 'cause this is my memory post): The meeting at St. Jame's Park in 1862 that so many, post-S2, took to be their first run-in after the Story of wee Morag, actually wasn't that at all. They saw each other at least once only a month later, as Aziraphale's diary lets us know. Which explains why he wasn't very surprised or concerned when he met Crowley in London, 1862. If there really had been 35 years in between those two events, the first one ending with Crowley being sucked back Downstairs to receive more than three decades worth of hellish punishment, wouldn't Aziraphale have been at least a tiny bit worried or more interested than:

Just saying.

Alright, let's string this inflated hot air balloon of a post back together so we can outline some invisible furniture. This time with only two humble points:

Crowley through Aziraphale's lense Backed up by how we are introduced to Bildad the Shuhite in the Job minisode (suave, cheeky, smart, passionate in shoemaking and obstetrics), it's growing quite clear that Aziraphale's memories and impressions of Crowley are very fond and impressed ones. He sees him as someone who's not only witty, funny and cool, but also as someone who has figured out way sooner and faster than him that nothing's ever black and white. Not God's plans and not the human's choices either.

Aziraphale as a bit of an exaggerating adventure author With the direct parallel we get of inkslinger journalist!Aziraphale in the present day, it's quite apparent after this minisode that Aziraphale's memory is not only deeply influenced by his emotions, but that he also tends to have a bit of a dramatic touch to him. Although, you gotta give it to the guy: A month without seeing the love of your life, even if said life is eternal, can indeed seem like "quite some time".

Well, would you lookie here, we've reached the end of Part 2! What a journey it was. I hope you forgive me for the fact that I drifted off-course a few times. I just can't seem to reel in my silly little observations, even if they've got nothing to do with the point I'm trying to make. But hey, doesn't that just make me a little bit like Aziraphale's storytelling, in a way?

I'll let you be the judge of that.

See you in Part 3! And in case you haven't snuck a peak yet: here's Part 1 again.

Ta!

[dreams-shape-the-world]

I love Shakespeare, and I love Hamlet, compound that with the fact that they had Aziraphale and Crowley at the Globe Theater while they were playing Hamlet put me over the moon.

What I find most amusing, is that both Michael Sheen and David Tennant have both played the part of the Danish prince.

So we have our favorite angel and demon, meeting at the Globe because of their new "arrangement" to do miracles or temptations that are just plain and simple, a pain in the ass to do, but management wants them to do anyway.

They also discuss the fact that if either one of their sides knew about the "arrangement" it would be abysmal for them. We know what eventually happens to Crowley later on in the future, when he saves Elspeth from attempting to take her life.

I think the one thing that is key with this part of their history, is how much concern Aziraphale has started to show for Crowley. Even though he denies ever knowing Crowley, he is nonetheless worried about his wellbeing. These are the early stages of their relationship, with Aziraphale voicing his distress at the possibility of Crowley being destroyed if caught by his superiors.

During their conversation, Hamlet is playing on stage, and Aziraphale loves this play. Unfortunately, it's not that popular and it concerns him very much. They then have their coin toss to see who get to do the good and bad thing in Edinburgh.

Poor Aziraphale loses that toss and get stuck having to go there. At this point, Aziphale hears Shakespeare bemoan the fact that no likes Hamlet. This is where Aziraphale gives Crowley the, what has been called, his "heart eyes" looks. I call it the, "oh please my dear, can you do this for me?" look and Crowley just can't say no to him.

It doesn't even take him a second to agree to his angel's request, so much for putting up a fight. He never has a chance, Crowley already has it bad and doesn't even know it.

I will say, that to me, Crowley fell in love first with Aziraphale. The debate is, when, at Eden or during Job minisode? We can debate that forever, but in the end, he is already in love.

I adore how happy it makes Aziraphale, when his demon capitulates to his wishes. Look at him, he is beaming with happiness, how can anyone not love him.

Crowley makes it like, yea, whatever, but you can't tell me he wasn't smiling as he walked away, knowing that he made his angel happy.

Anyway, I love this whole minisode as I said earlier. It is adorable in their interactions over one of my favorite plays. Plus, Elizabethan Crowley is just gorgeous!

[foolishlovers]

Hi! I love your recs so much! Thank you for all the work you put into them! I hope it is okay to request my own? I would love to see a list of your favorite humorous explicit fics starring our ineffable idiots. I prefer non AUs, but if you have an absolute masterpiece, I'll take it no matter what!

Only if you want to, of course! Thank you, again!!

hey, that's so sweet, thank you so much!! 💜

of course, here are some of my favourite non AU humorous explicit good omens fics: [you can request more fic recs here.]

i made an excuse (you found another way) by orphan_account (1k) “Angel, the restaurant’s right there.” It was. Crowley gestured to it with a definitive arm wave. The Ritz was at the corner of Piccadilly and Arlington, and they could see the hotel facade as they stepped out of the park. “We can walk there.” “Let’s drive.”

Booty Call by emmagrant01 (2k) “It’s called a ‘butt dial,’ Angel. A ‘booty call’ is something else.”

The Angel Line by FancyTrinkets (2k) The one in which Aziraphale purchases and listens to a pornographic audiobook that just so happens to be narrated by Crowley. Aziraphale cringed and covered his face. This was going to be awful, and also thrilling, and he wasn't sure what he ought to be feeling about it, but there was a definite sense of vicarious shame.

Just a Taste by summerofspock (3k) See, it wasn’t so much the eating. It was the noises. It was the indecent look on Aziraphale’s face. It was the way he licked his fingers and wiggled in his seat. Every little action felt specially created to undo Crowley. And Aziraphale had no idea.

The Rake by CopperBeech (3k) During the long estrangement of the 1800's, Aziraphale practiced a secret hobby – and it wasn’t the gavotte. Crowley finds out in an unexpected way.

For a Good Time, Call by seashadows (3k) Three rings. Four. Seven, and then “Hello?” “Hello, sssssweetheart,” Crowley said. “How would you like my long, slithery tongue up your tight little –“ Then it hit him: he knew that voice. Dear. Fucking. Satan. (Sometime in the depths of the 1990s, Hell tasks Crowley with spreading lust. As usual, he makes as little effort as he can, but gets a heaven of a lot more than he bargained for.)

The One in Which Crowley Discovers Wanking by for_autumn_i_am (5k) It began, like most memorable events in Crowley’s life did, with a bad decision; like most bad decisions, it involved poor impulse control and copious amounts of alcohol. The Antichrist had been born, and he put on lipstick and kitten heels to deal with it, but knew that the clock was ticking, and at times when time was slipping away, it helped to hold onto a bottle of gin.

Fine Dining by iamshame (13k) "There was something else I was going to ask you," Aziraphale continued, unabashed. "Ah… How to put it?" He tapped his hand on his thigh for a moment, and then apparently found inspiration. "Ah! When you're…" Crowley made the mistake of making eye contact with him, and Aziraphale gave him another outrageous wink. "Dining out… What cutlery do you prefer to use?" "I'm sorry?" Crowley said pleasantly, trying his best not to cause anything in the dining room to catch aflame in his frustration. Aziraphale gave him a reproachful stare, as if Crowley were being very stupid. "When you're eating, Crowley. Do you favour the… The knife?" Aziraphale actually glanced conspicuously at his own crotch, and Crowley considered leaving the dining room via the nearest window. "Or the spoon?" Another raised eyebrow. "Or even, let's say, a fork?" "What the fuck is the fork in this situation?" Crowley hissed through gritted teeth. Aziraphale mentions that he'd like to have sex with Crowley. Crowley is completely taken-aback, and very conflicted, and very interested. Aziraphale is also trying to kill him by using elaborate food metaphors to explain the whole subject, which is not helping in the slightest.

Trial & error by fellshish (15k) The Metatron brings in the demon Crowley to stand trial in Heaven. For tempting an angel. Uhhhh. Awkward.

Feast by Ashfae, mostlyjustgoose (15k) Crowley's spent the whole of lockdown asleep. Aziraphale has spent the whole of lockdown baking, cooking, and becoming increasingly frustrated with his solitude. Which eventually leads him to the perfect way to solve all his problems at once… Or, Aziraphale attempts to seduce Crowley with a truly excellent meal, and Crowley is amenable.

One Night In Bangor (And the World's Your Oyster) by Atalan (17k) "All right, I know I'm going to regret asking this," Aziraphale says. "What exactly does this wager entail?" Crowley grins like the cat that not only got the cream but has absconded with the entire cow. He grabs the bottle and swigs straight from it despite Aziraphale's tut of disapproval.  "The pot goes to whichever demon can get an angel into bed by the end of the evening." AKA The Fic That Tumblr Made Me Write. Heaven and Hell share a corporate party once per millennium. This time someone's had the bright idea of issuing a challenge to the demons of Hell. Crowley has no intention of missing the opportunity; Aziraphale's just enough of a bastard to make him work for it.

Ideal Partner by summerofspock (17k) “Would you like to explain why you’re watching pornography? In your bookshop? During business hours?” Aziraphale flaps his hand, typically dismissive of any criticisms of his abysmal business practices. “Did you know I’ve been on this earth for nearly 6 millennia and have never engaged in intercourse before?” Crowley grinds his teeth and feels his cheeks heat. What is he supposed to say to that?

Anything for Science by Magnolia822 (20k) Aziraphale decides he wants to make an Effort, so he watches a lot of porn for science. And when he asks for help with more hands-on experimentation, Crowley is only more than happy to oblige.

The Loophole, or, How to Convince a Demon God Exists in Three Easy Steps by fellshish (24k) Ah, yes. Being an Archangel is going splendidly. Aziraphale accidentally erases God from the Book of Life.

32 Questions That Lead To Love by ffonippop (32k)

”First formulated in 1997, [32] questions to fall in love is a study by psychologist Dr. Arthur Aron which took place at Stony Brook University, New York. The aim? Speeding up the creation of intimacy between two strangers.” The Cosmopolitan

Okay, fine.

Crowley was 32-Questions-That-Lead-To-Love-ing Aziraphale. Sue him.

He had no expectations, all right? Just, an innocent curiosity.

The Grindr Logo Doesn't Even Have a 'G' In It by indieninja92 (79k) After the Apocalypse, Aziraphale ventures into a new space in the gay milieu - Grindr. There he starts talking to a charming young man who certainly doesn't bear any resemblance at all to a certain long streak of demon, not one bit, no thank you. Meanwhile, Aziraphale and Crowley navigate their friendship after the world failed to end. There is much drinking and silliness, but could it be that there are other feelings lurking underneath?? Of course there are, this is fanfic.

[you can find more fic rec masterposts here]

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

Pt XIII good omens: The Adventures of Crowley and Aziraquail (Ages 3+)

@innefableidiot Shout out to you for my Good Omens villain arc origin story. I saw your Duck Omens, I reblogged it thinking I had too small of an attention span to watch a whole show, but the Duck Crowley and Aziraphale looked so adorable anyway. But I had flirted with the devil, Good Omens took over my dash, I made a summary, and here we are. This is in honour of you.

Good Omens, as a toddler's book. Yes I wrote an entire toddler's story for this post. If you do like this ridiculous thing, it would be nice if you could reblog it :") That's the only way it can get to more people. And god knows the children of divorce need a good bedtime story. So here you are, to heal the pain.

Crowley the Crow had always been a naughty little bird. Look at him go, flapping over the street... He wanted to steal something! Oh, no, Crowley. Stealing isn't very nice of you.

"I'm not nice," cawed Crowley. "Not nice at all."

Aziraquail the Quail sat near, on a telephone line. He was eating a piece of grain. Munch, munch, much, went Aziraquail. He saw Crowley and waved his wing.

"Crowley!" trilled Aziraquail. "What are you up to?"

"I'm going to steal something," said Crowley. He waved back. Aziraquail was his friend, and it is polite to greet your friends. That's how they know you care! "Look, Aziraquail, that human has a very shiny ring!"

"It is a very shiny ring," Aziraquail said, looking down. Aziraquail wanted to tell the truth. He didn't always succeed, but that's okay! It's very, very important to try. "But Crowley, you can't steal the very shiny ring! It doesn't belong to you."

Crowley was very confused. He landed on the telephone line beside Aziraquail. "But if the very shiny ring belonged to me, how would I steal it?"

Aziraquail sighed. But he decided to explain it to Crowley anyway. Sometimes, people aren't trying to be bad! They just don't know any better. "You shouldn't steal it at all, Crowley. Stealing will make the human sad."

"Oh goodie," said Crowley. "That sounds fun."

"No!" cried Aziraquail. Aziraquail didn't like the sound of that, not one bit. "Crowley, don't make the human sad. Or I shan't be your friend."

Crowley thought over that. He didn't like that. Aziraquail was his very best friend. Friends are very important, and Crowley knew that. But oh! He did so want that very shiny ring.

Crowley looked down at the human again. No, Crowley! Don't do it!

With a flap of his wings, and a flip of his wings, down Crowley flew, to snatch the human's very shiny ring! Oh, dear, Crowley. How very naughty of you.

But what was this? Crowley bumped straight into the human's head! He bounced off and away he went, landing with a huff on the pavement. That's the part next to the street.

The human was very cross. "Come back here, you bad bird!" she shouted. That wasn't polite of her, was it? When you're upset with someone, you shouldn't shout right away. What if it had been an accident?

"It wasn't an accident," said Crowley. He was grumpy. "I wanted to steal her very shiny ring."

Naughty Crowley.

The human ran towards Crowley to scold him. Poor Crowley! But just as the human stepped off the street, along came a very fast bike, and whoosh! Away it went, just missing the human.

Oh my. You mustn't speed on streets like that, very fast bike! You could have hit somebody. Look at that sign over there. This street is for pedestrians, too! Pedestrians is a grown-up way of saying people who aren't on a vehicle. Grown-ups like fancy words.

"Wait a moment," said the human. She stopped and looked at Crowley. "Oh, little crow, you saved me! I could have been hit!"

Crowley blinked. He was very confused. But he'd been trying to be naughty!

"Thank you!" said the human. "Oh, thank you, little bird. What can I do for you?" She looked down at her hand. "Crows like shiny things, don't they? Here, take this very shiny ring. I got it for free with sweets, and I don't even like it."

She gave Crowley the very shiny ring.

"Thank you," said Crowley, because he might be a naughty little crow, but he was a very polite little crow.

The human waved goodbye, and went on her way. Aziraquail landed on the pavement next to Crowley.

"Oh, Crowley," said Aziraquail. "You aren't very good at being naughty, are you?"

"Yes I am!" said Crowley.

Aziraquail smiled. "But you saved the human! And you didn't steal the ring. She gave it to you all by herself, as a reward. Isn't that much nicer?"

"I'm not nice," said Crowley. Oh, Crowley, you silly, silly, crow. "Well, if I'd done it your way, she wouldn't have been saved! So you aren't very good at being nice."

Aziraquail looked sad. Crowley didn't like that. Aziraquail was his friend, and friends don't make each other sad.

"I'm sorry," said Crowley. "But don't you want to know why I wanted the very shiny ring?"

Oh my, Crowley. Why did you want the very shiny ring?

"To be naughty," said Aziraquail. He was still hurt. Sometimes, even when you say sorry, it isn't enough. And that's okay.

"No," said Crowley. He held it out with his little crow beak, and put it on Aziraquail's foot! "It was for you! Because you're my very best friend."

"We're not friends," said Aziraquail. Sometimes, when we're hurt, we say things we don't mean.

Crowley looked sad. "We're not?"

Aziraquail thought and thought. And decided that he had been rather silly. "I'm sorry," he said too. "Of course we're friends. Thank you for the very shiny ring, Crowley!"

Crowley smiled his naughty little smile.

And then, oh my! How cute. Aziraquail leaned over and gave Crowley a kiss on his feathery little cheek. "It's very pretty. I love you, Crowley!"

It is very important to tell your friends that you love them. You don't have to say it with words. Crowley said it with a little kiss back, because he was too shy to speak.

What a very nice crow you are, Crowley.

"I'm not nice!"

"Crowley!"

"Okay, fine, just a little bit."

The End.

[lineffability]

For the sharing a bed prompt list...2 and 8? As well as any others you want to include because they're all delightful XD

"Did you know you talk in your sleep?"

"I- what?" Crowley, drowsy, blinked against the light coming from above. For a moment he thought it was Aziraphale, but it was just the lamp on the ceiling. He sat up, wiping the sleep from his eyes. Right. Bookshop. Lots of alcohol. Late, probably.

Wait. Did you know you talk in your sleep? Oh fuck. Oh Satan. Oh hell. Oh no. Slowly, carefully, Crowley turned his head towards Aziraphale, making sure to avoid his eyes.

"Ah? What'd I sa- I mean. Sure, I guess. I mean I didn't know. How would I?"

"How would you," Aziraphale repeated, suddenly looking a little sad, and Crowley wondered if the angel was still drunk. How long had he been out?

What had he said?

He forced himself to look at Aziraphale. The angel looked normal. Not devastated, or embarassed, or ready to flee and deny and forgive. So maybe it hadn't been so bad. He tried to remember his dream. He coudn't. It was unfair - shouldn't he be able to recall his dreams at will, as a demon? But the realm of dreaming seemed as off limits to him as that of Heaven. (Even the nightmares. Maybe that was a mercy.) Well - he remembered dreams like the humans did, anyway. In shambles.

He wondered if Aziraphale could remember his dreams: access them, rewind them, play them back and forth like a video - then again, the angel rarely slept, he was quite sure. Maybe that was better.

"Do you dream?"

"Me?" Aziraphale looked surprised, and considered the question alongside his wineglass. There was a little bit of liquid left in it. So he had been drinking, alone, while Crowley had drifted off. Oh dear. Maybe he was drowning his sorrows in alcohol, the things Crowley had said. "I prefer not to dream."

"Huh." Crowley sat up. "Why? It's fun."

"It's dangerous." Aziraphale studied his glass more intently, downing the last little gulp and abandoning the empty vessel on the desk.

"Right." Crowley swallowed. Well, he was right about that. "What... what did I..." He looked away. "...say?"

"Huh?"

"You said I talked. In my sleep. So."

"Ah."

"Anything I oughta know?"

"Oh, it was only... you seemed to be in an argument."

"An argument?"

"Yes. Yes - with me, I think."

"With you." Crowley's voice thinned. He miracled his hangover back, the light pressure on his head, as if it might take responsibility for the words that had been uttered. "Makes sense. Who else would I argue with. You're very... arguable."

"You mean I am a worthy opponent. A great interlocutor. A beacon of goodness against your vile--"

"Yeah. Sure. So we just argued, huh." His shoulders relaxed a little.

"It was about pigeons, I think. You said something about no, no pigeon pie, no eating, and rats with wings and God's ugly angels and protection and-" he added a rather dramatic little whine to his voice, not like Crowley at all: "misunderstood."

"Oh." Crowley thought he remembered, now, with Aziraphale's help, a slice of the pigeon pie dream. Aziraphale chasing after the poor pigeons with cutlery in bis hands and a napkin tucked into his shirt collar. Good. Excellent. A harmless dream. Pigeons. Wings. White-ish grey wings, everywhere, he remembered that, and then when the wings had cleared there had suddenly been no more pigeons or pies - only another misunderstood messenger of peace. His angel. So beautiful, amongst all the wings. And then he had--" Oh no. Oh, oh. Then the dream had shifted. He remembered now, and wished he hadn't.

"And that was it, right. Nothing else. Yeah. Pigeons."

"Well, then you said my name."

"Mgphm."

"You said Aziraphale." Aziraphale spoke his name neutrally, without much intonation, and Crowley was glad, because he knew that was not the way he had said it.

"Sure. We were debating pigeons. In my dream. So of course I said it."

"Yes..." Aziraphale was looking at his hands. He seemed to be debating something other than pigeons. "Only it was... ah. Nevermind."

Crowley almost asked. He didn't want to: he knew he had only said Aziraphale's name, and nothing else. He had sighed it against his lips, softly, tenderly, again and again, as he had kissed him, and the wings enveloping them were grey and safe, pigeons and peace. Old messengers, dreams.

He didn't ask.

The moment passed. Aziraphale smiled, congenially, and Crowley couldn't quite parse it.

(Much as Aziraphale couldn't quite parse the way Crowley had spoken his name, in his sleep, the soft tone and the pained, peaceful expression on his face. Much as he didn't want to ask, either. It had been too... It had been too much, too nice. Too good to be able to hold on to it. It was only a dream: it would be forgotten soon enough.)

"It was only my name."

"Yeah. Only your name."

[theycallmemisterbutterfingers]

Somebody To Luuuvvvvvv

so, i wrote this fic a WHILE ago, and promptly forgot abt it lmao. it was something i worked at on and off for a month, so it may be a little disjointed. also, I very much recommend listening to Somebody To Love (Queen) while reading, although depending on how speedy you are with reading, the fic will extend past the song's length. ALSO, I started writing it to mirror the lyrics of Somebody To Love, but I lost track of it a little in the last stretch, since there's a lotta instrumental and I just kinda went off HAH

anyhow

oh also i drew this little animation in like October and i'm sorry and you're welcome? sorry because ACK i swear to god i can draw better but you're welcome in case you like it ,,,,, yeah ,,,,,,, much love!!

Can

Anybody?

Find me

Somebody to…

Love.

…

Crowley launched himself up from his desk, sending a few pieces of glass clattering to the floor, shattered remains of his heart. He wobbled for a moment, the alcohol settling in weird places.  Reality spun. He thought he saw stars. And then worse.

He thought he saw his angel.

His knees buckled, and his hand shot out to brace himself on his desk. His other hand reached up to shakily run a hand down his face. Take a look at this poor sod, he thought bitterly, about to berate himself. Then he caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection of his window, and he traced the scars down her cheeks that the tears had left in their wake. Crowley sighed, then chuckled—a small, self-deprecating one. Oh, what he’s doing to me.

He’d spent all his years believing in the bastard, chasing him, wanting him, hoping that they were the same. Thinking that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t fully alone. 

And then the angel took his heart and blasted it away with his halo. With his Heaven-besotted ideals that Crowley thought he had left behind. No such relief.

And all Crowley wanted was to love and be loved by him. Too much to ask, turns out.

…

He was behind the wheel. Again. He didn’t quite know how he got there, really, and he didn’t know where he was going, either. All he knew was that he was driving—driving away. Driving far away from…what? The work he had put in for himself—for his angel—to live a life safely in the corner? Maybe. Driving away from being alone? Hm. As if he could be driving away from the ache in his bones and towards Az—well. He wasn’t, at any rate. Crowley cursed himself under his breath and pulled over.

The sun was setting, colors bleeding out into the sky. Bleeding out. Now that was something that Crowley was familiar with. He looked up at it all, trying in vain to see anything—any sign from the Universe, from God, anything at all—but no. His knees hit the dirt. “God…what’re you doing to me? You listening? This part of your Great Plan, too?”

Nothing. Crowley dug his nails into his palms until he drew blood.

They do say that snakes can’t cry. 

Well. 

They also say snakes don’t fall in love. That they can’t feel it.

But just look at Crowley.

🌟

Aziraphale hurried through the empty space of Heaven, a harried look on his face. He had been working nonstop ever since he returned, trying to prove his worth, trying to do good, trying to be good. But there were stares pricking the back of his neck. Veiled criticism, judgement. They thought him odd, strange, impure. Tainted from Earth. They don’t want me here, he thought, then quickly shook it away. He had to keep faith. Believe in good in others, and the good of God. 

But there’s nobody left to believe in me.

…

Aziraphale blinked. He had been heading towards the higher floors, but his feet had betrayed him. They had led him to the globe. His chest warmed seeing Earth, but there was this terrible, sudden ache in his gut. Aziraphale put a hand to his stomach, breathless for a moment. 

Guilt. 

Horrible, horrible guilt. 

His hands shook. His stomach roiled like there was a nest of snakes, snakes, Crowley, his Crowley, his Crowley that he left behind, the desperation etched into his face as he—

Stop, he told himself. Stop. You can’t. Push it down, push it down, remember? You need to focus on your tasks. You need to forget.

Do you? Part of him whispered.

Quiet, he thought. No thoughts. You must be good. 

It would be good, this traitorous part of him whispered. You would be doing a good thing. Checking up on that nice angel, Muriel. 

Oh, yes, Muriel. Of course. It would only take a moment to pop in, after all. He wrung his hands, thinking hard and thinking fast. His tasks weren’t too urgent—just some paperwork, a few visits to the superiors; yes, it would be fine. Tickety-boo. Besides, he really needed to make sure the bookshop and Muriel were fine. Nothing else. What else would there be, really? For such a quick visit, especially? Aziraphale was still for a moment—save for his hands, which shook like leaves—and then with one decisive motion he tapped the globe, and felt himself dissolve into light. 

🥀

Crowley slumped in his Bentley, cheeks stinging, throat hurting. Queen played over the speakers, but he kept losing track of the song, sliding in and out of white noise. After a few moments, he inhaled sharply and clenched his jaw. He was alright. He was fine. He was a demon. Of course he was alright. In fact, he was so alright, he would go and make sure Muriel hadn’t sold anything. At the bookshop. Because he was alright he was alright he was FINE. He stomped on the gas pedal with a bit more vigor than usual and began to whip through the streets, disregarding anything his mind might mutter to him. Perhaps that—Crowley ignoring himself as much as he possibly could—perhaps that was why he didn’t notice the feeling of his angel returning to Earth. 

…

Crowley slammed the Bentley’s door shut and sauntered across the street to the bookshop, confident as a lioness. The confidence was a sham. He was a right wreck internally. He unlocked the door and swung inside with carefully practiced nonchalance, carefully hidden nerves, everything under the surface, as it should be. But the memories still hit him like a Bentley going 90. Frozen, he could do nothing but boggle at the bookshelves with their alphabetized books all in the right places and the angel wing mug with hot chocolate still steaming, until he heard a cheerful voice from up the stairs, “Be with you in a minute!!”

This managed to jolt Crowley out of his reverie, and he managed to shout back, “It’s me!”

“Oh!! Ah,” and there was quite a bit of shuffling around. Crowley shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to take measured breaths. Being back in the same place, the same spot where he—

“Hello, Mr. Crowley!!” Muriel beamed over the banister upstairs before hurrying down the stairs. “Haven’t seen you in a bit!”

Crowley hummed noncommittally. Muriel fidgeted.

“Did you need anything, Mr. Crowley?” They asked, looking at him a little too expectantly. Crowley had a sudden memory of that kid he had encountered as Bilidad, the little one who wanted to be a lizard. 

“Erm…”

It wasn’t to check on the books, really. What did Crowley need?

Well.

Wasn’t it obvious?

He needed him. 

His angel. His Az—hm. 

His A—guh.

His A…He needed Aziraphale. 

There, he said it. Wasn’t so hard.

He needed his somebody to love.

But his somebody was gone.

He didn’t say any of this to Muriel, though. Instead, he just shrugged. “Thought I’d stop by, make sure you hadn’t sold anything.”

Muriel shook their head vehemently. “Oh, no, certainly not!! I remember what you were like when I first took over the shop,,” they took on a grumpy, spiky air then, ignoring the dinging of the shop bell, “Now listen here, Muriel, if you sell any one of these books, I will march right up to heaven and tell those higher-ups that you are doing Very, Very Bad Things. So do not, under any circumstances, sell these books!!” Muriel finished their impression attempting a scowl matching Crowley’s, cementing their inability to make any sort of coarse expression.

Crowley scoffed and was about to complain that he did NOT sound like that, not in the slightest, when—

“Oh, Crowley, did you really?”

Fireworks rocketed up Crowley’s spine and exploded in his chest, and he whipped around to see—

To see—

His angel. 

Aziraphale standing in the doorway of the shop, looking like he was already regretting even stepping through the door, but still with that nervous, gentle smile Crowley loved so, and he could do nothing but gape at Aziraphale, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Aziraphale didn’t fare much better, only just managing to stand there, wobbly and woeful. Muriel, slowly becoming more adept at social situations, sidled into the back room, and the sound of the door shutting snapped Crowley out of his stupor—and his wounded heart throbbed.

“Back to forgive me again, then?” Spat Crowley bitterly.

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale breathed, teary-eyed, and before Crowley could say anything else, Aziraphale rushed into him, grabbing his lapels and burying his face in Crowley’s chest. 

“I mi-i-issed-d you,” He sobbed, and Crowley wanted to shove him away, wanted to snarl barbed words and sharp jabs, wanted try and make him feel some semblance of the pain he felt—

But he couldn’t bring himself to do so. He couldn’t bring himself to hurt his angel, when he was already so awfully distraught. So he put a tentative, shaky hand on Aziraphale’s back, and said, quietly, “Hi, Angel.”

Aziraphale sniffed loudly at that and looked up at him. Then he stepped back, only slightly, and they simply looked at each other for a moment. Then—

“Why did you leave—?!” They started, simultaneously, then stopped. 

“Well, you were the one leaving, Angel,” Crowley snapped, brows knitted together.

Aziraphale looked at him quizzically and sniffed again. “B-But I asked you to come with me, dear. I wanted you to come with me. I wanted you to come so terribly,” his lip wobbled, “And-and then you got mad, and ki-kissed me, and then—hic—and then you left!”

Crowley scowled, confused. He was quite certain that Aziraphale had been the one to do the leaving.

“But you abandoned me,” he said, voice rough, “After all we’ve gone through! I thought we were a team, Aziraphale. I thought you liked me how I was—not an angel, not a demon, as me.”

Aziraphale whimpered, wringing his hands. “But I do like you, Crowley! I’m so, so s-sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, I promise, I just—I want to be with you, oh so much! And we could be together, in Heaven, as angels, without messiness, and—and, oh, I thought you’d be happier as an angel. I mean, you used to be, when you were…”

Crowley sighed, his anger beginning to cool. Oh, Angel. “I don’t want Heaven. I don’t want to be who I was. I just want to be me, now, here, with you,” He said, as gently as he could muster, taking his sunglasses off. Aziraphale blinked, another sparkling tear trailing down his cheek. Crowley had to curb the urge to wipe it away by shoving his hands in his pockets.

“B-But…but an angel? A-a demon?? That—”

“Would be alright.” Crowley finished, trying to smile, trying not to hope. “We could do it.” Aziraphale wavered, unsure, worried. He cast a look around him, and then, resolutely, 

“I need to go back.” Crowley’s heart plummeted to the floor and shattered like an empty bottle. Again. 

He made to leave, eyes already stinging, but Aziraphale grabbed at him. “Wait, Crowley!!” But no. Not again. Never again. Crowley wrenched away, looking at the ground, trying to stride past him, a painful crescendo rising in his head, already berating himself for trusting so quickly, hoping so easily, and then, and then he felt a soft hand tilt his face up and take off his glasses and, and, and—and Aziraphale was kissing him. Kissing him. Crowley’s thoughts blinked out of existence completely. All he could focus on was Aziraphale, him against Crowley’s lips, again, finally. Aziraphale’s tears wet Crowley’s cheeks and burned there and Crowley didn’t mind in the slightest. And he kissed back, fiercely, not caring if the rest of him burned up as a result.

Aziraphale gasped at the kiss deepening, and something roared deep inside of Crowley, and then, suddenly—Aziraphale pulled away.

It was as if Crowley had been lit on fire and then doused with cold water, and all he could do was stand there, shivering and overheating at the same time. Aziraphale, though shaking as well, took a deep breath.

“Crowley. I am going, but I’m not leaving,” and he took Crowley’s face in both hands, “I’m not leaving you. I never meant to in the first place. I’m sorry. Please…forgive me.”

Crowley didn’t know how to respond. What could he possibly say? What could he—

A tear slid down his face, and Aziraphale brushed it away with his thumb, tenderly, lovingly. 

And Crowley broke. 

“Oh, dear,” Aziraphale murmured, and cradled Crowley close as he crumpled into his arms. He trembled like a leaf, loud sobs wracking his body. 

They sank to the ground together, and stayed that way for a long time. 

Eventually, Crowley could breathe without feeling like he was suffocating. Cheeks burning, he slowly sat up, looking anywhere but at Aziraphale, embarrassed. “Ngk—sorry, Angel.”

“My dear boy,” Aziraphale turned his face back to him with a feather-light touch, “You have nothing to be sorry for.” Crowley damn near started crying again. He nodded and sniffed, rubbing his face. “You’re too nice to me.”

Aziraphale smiled at him, eyes twinkling. “Nice is a four-letter word.”

They gazed at each other adoringly, neither quite believing that they could hope again, hope for a future together, as hope was a four-letter word, too. Then Crowley looked down at the ground. “So…you have to go.”

“I will be back, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, and stood up, “I just need to do a few things first.”

“I need you,” Crowley pleaded, on his knees, all defenses forgotten, all barriers down. “Stay. Please.”

“I need you too,” Aziraphale said softly, doe-eyed, and kissed him on the forehead. “I want to stay with you. But I have to keep Earth safe. I can change things, in Heaven. I can stop the Second Coming.”

His face hardened and, for a moment, looked every bit the Archangel he was supposed to be. “Even if it means making a few…executive decisions. In the name of good, of course.”

“Of course,” Crowley echoed, feeling a bit dazed.

Aziraphale smiled at him and then looked up, wings materializing behind him. “I’ll see you soon, dear.”

Crowley, as if struck by a pin, sprung up towards Aziraphale and kissed him once more. Aziraphale, who had already begun to glow with departure, kissed back just as hard, if not harder. Crowley held onto the quickly dissipating angel tightly, as long as he could, until Aziraphale fully disappeared…and then Crowley fell flat on his face. 

Oh, would you look at that, Crowley mused to himself, ass up, face down. I’ve fallen. “Erm,” said a timid voice behind him, “Would you like some hot chocolate, Mr. Crowley?”

thank you for reading!!!!!!!

[nightgoodomens]

So how about a one shot where Aziraphale realises he has hots for Crowley getting his hands dirty?

😈😈😈😈

Aziraphale decided that he really should have fallen a very long time ago.

He never out loud admitted that he was putting himself in danger to get Crowley to save him - or in other words - to see him. It would probably be seen as pathetic or blasphemous considering he was pretending to be a poor Angel in need of saving by a Demon. But Crowley always showed up and never judged him and Aziraphale wondered if he knew.

He probably did. Crowley was a cheeky bastard but for some reason never tried to tease him about this, so Aziraphale decided he went along with it because he liked saving him. Or he liked him.

Hey, it worked for every heroine in the book. That’s where he got the idea from in the first place. They were always saved by the handsome bad boy that was only soft for them. Aziraphale decided to test out the little fantasy - and it worked. He liked the feeling of being rescued, he always struggled to pretend that he doesn’t really need the help, because his face was probably beaming from happiness. It wasn’t just the rescuing, it was seeing the demon and knowing he might be able to spend a few hours in his company.

But those days were long over. Now he and that demon had their own cottage and there was nothing to be rescued from… apart from a neighbour who tried to stick her nose in their business and Crowley found it funny until she said a mean thing to Aziraphale and he snapped at her in a way that ensured she never bothered them again.

Aziraphale was content and happy. They really finally had their peace. And he had Crowley all for himself.

Things were so peaceful in fact that he forgot that Crowley was a tempting creature. Aziraphale was used to him, he knew his flirt, he knew the seduction. He was lucky to have all of this in his normal everyday life.

But what was infuriating was that Crowley didn’t know of all the ways he was seductive when he wasn’t trying.

Or perhaps Aziraphale really should have fallen because he had a goddamn dirty mind.

Six thousand years! This is how long he knew the demon for, but only when they got the cottage he found out that Crowley was very much into sorting things out himself. He worked on the Bentley. He fixed the boiler. He fixed their appliances. He was so good at figuring things out.

And Aziraphale should had been a good partner who appreciated having such a hands on partner. Instead he felt himself swallowing hard seeing him working without a T-shirt on, sweat and dirt smudged across the uncovered body, as he twisted his slim hips to get behind the old boiler which played up again.

Or… it might have been… Aziraphale who broke it.

Why was he finding it so hot?! It was Crowley! He was hot and sexy and Aziraphale could have him whenever he wanted since that demon was last to say no, cheeky grin on his face majority of the time. They had a lot of years to catch up on, that was their excuse.

Yet somehow that bloody snake was not catching up that Aziraphale was breaking things on purpose to see him twisting, half naked and dirty.

Not even when he convinced Bentley to suddenly start losing oil because good lord Crowley covered in black smudges.

“You know what?” Crowley spoke up, one hand on the boiler, hot, sweaty and dirty. “I think we need to call someone over. I am clearly doing something wrong if it keeps on breaking. We can’t live here like this, it gets so hot. I’m sweating! I’ve never sweat in my life!”

“What?” Aziraphale’s voice was way too high. “Don’t be ridiculous, you’re perfect.”

Crowley would have given him a surprised look normally, but he was too busy wondering what was wrong with the boiler.

Aziraphale wondered if his miracle was a bit too good this time. They were really getting too easy for him to do at this stage.

God, help me.

God was probably laughing her ass off at him.

“It’s not that hot.” Aziraphale waved his hand dismissively.

“Angel. We are melting.” Crowley looked at him surprised, finally.

His hair was stuck to his forehead.

God, forgive me, for I am going to sin so badly, Aziraphale breathed.

God was definitely laughing now.

“What’s up?” Crowley was suddenly right in front of his face. Aziraphale groaned. “You’re being really weird.”

Get the hint you bloody demon.

“I am not weird!” Aziraphale scoffed, trying to be offended but his hands were touching Crowley’s chest, so that didn’t work out.

“You’re going to get your hands dirty, Angel.” Crowley said, still not getting the hint.

“I don’t mind.”

Crowley looked confused for a moment, but he finally did get the hint -when Aziraphale’s hands reached his belt and pulled him closer.

“Angel.” Crowley’s face turned into that smug smirk that Aziraphale loved but would never admit it. “Are you trying to tell me you like me like this?”

“Only for the past three months, dear.” He unlocked his belt and threw it to the floor.

Crowley laughed delighted. “You’re the one who keeps on breaking everything.”

“Possibly.”

“Aziraphale.”

“Just take your pants off, Crowley.”

He wasn’t planning to worship God tonight.

[tio-trile]

can I ask, because I'm a GO book fan too and I decided ages ago I didn't care enough about the show to watch s2 - what made them so OOC? I always felt that their book personalities basically got swapped in S1 but it seems like people are even madder about this. ngl it is kind of inspiring me to write more fic with book canon dark-haired Crowley in it lol

Okay so SPOILERS FOR GOOD OMENS SEASON 2:

So first of all towards the end I couldn't take much of it anymore due to various reasons, including that somebody was kind enough to spoil the very ending (of them breaking up and that that's the ending of the show) on the 27th, so I didn't even feel like finishing the show, but I pushed myself to and therefore was half-watching it towards the end, so my memory may not be the most accurate but I can't bare to go back and rewatch it.

From the very beginning I hated that it was retconned that they knew each other as angels. The point, the THEME is that they're friends despite being on opposite sides. And it was said that Aziraphale DID remember Crowley as an angel. So did he only become friends with him because he remembered Crowley when they were friends as angels??? I hate how this changed the beautiful beginning of the book and their first meeting, and the THEME. (Oh BTW Aziraphale is also a landlord who takes rent from this poor lady although he doesn't need the money at all??? But that's beside the point)

In ep3 Aziraphale driving the Bentley was pretty cute and at one point A and C had the canon conversation in the book with where you start vs. upbringing so those are fine. But Crowley in Aziraphale's bookshop tossing all of Aziraphale's beloved books around carelessly......Crowley would never.

In ep4 it was said that Aziraphale owns a gun which I thought was very in-character XD. And that Crowley has never fired a gun.

EP6 was where all the shit went down......first of all I was making loud retching noises in my office @ the Gabriel x Beelzebub thing that came out of nowhere......and the plot goes that Gabriel and Beelzebub basically ran off together somewhere, so Metatron was like "the supreme archangel job position is open now and we want YOU, Aziraphale, to fill it. You can even make your friend Crowley an angel again" and Aziraphale accepted??????!?!?!???!?! Aziraphale's entire arc in the books and in season 1 and THE THEME is that they don't agree with their uppers anymore, he and Crowley are on the human's side, and on their own side. And suddenly, Aziraphale believes that working as a higher position in heaven is a good idea? And agreeing that turning Crowley back to an angel is better basically means that he thinks that angels are inherently better than demons, WHICH IS THE IDEA THAT THE BOOK AND SEASON 1 SPENT THE ENTIRE PLOT TO OVERTHROW???? And also I hate hate the idea that Aziraphale and Crowley must be somebody important. THE POINT is that they are nobodies, and that's what makes them great and relatable. They are NOT EVEN MAIN CHARACTERS in the book nor Season 1. In the show, Crowley also disagreed with Aziraphale's idea and they argued about it and then Crowley angrily kissed him (??) and then left and Aziraphale went to Superheaven to take the job ig. OH and Aziraphale said "I forgave you" to Crowley????? WHAT??? I've overlooked every little nitpicky thing I had about their characters in season 1, but these actions are irreversible and inexcusable. I'm done with the TV show. Nothing they do in season 3 can fix this. I'll just pretend this show never existed now.

[actual-changeling]

i think it's funny that whenever i post something about aziraphale not caring about individual humans—only humanity as a concept—the ONLY counter argument everyone always throws at me is 'he gave his flaming sword away'.

mate.

that was six thousand years ago. LITERALLY fresh out of heaven, to the only two humans in existence, who were the entirety of humanity at that point.

let's look at what he's like in more recent years, yes?

ah yes, telling a person living in an alley that her girlfriend is going to hell with a smile. what a kind person. and the wonderful follow-up which sounds like it is straight out of some conservative, capitalistic asshole's mouth.

and fun fact, someone like that has said THOSE EXACT WORDS to me at some point.

crowley asking the real questions here like always

but hey, that was 1827, maybe he was just having a bad year. or decade. or century.

what about the present day? see, crowley is terrified of gabriel and hates his guts, but do you know what he does? he answers his questions very patiently. he is kind. once he realises gabriel isn't pretending he makes him hot chocolate and tries to help him remember, he empathizes.

aziraphale's patient is non-existent. he yells at him immediately, gets frustrated with the most simple questions, refuses to interact with him and leaves crowley with him after crowley told him "what i NEED is for him to be nowhere near me". how considerate. but hey, maybe he was just having a bad time.

job! he was kind in job, right?

except that he doesn't care about job losing his house, his farmstead, all of his animals being slaughtered and only has a problem with the children dying; which he then tries to rationalize away with his fucking "that's not what god wants" shtick.

meanwhile crowley already has plans to protect the animals AND the children AND job and sitis as best he can.

the flood? perfectly alright to drown everyone, including innocent animals and children! it is god's plan, and what do a few humans mean in god's great big ineffable plan, huh?

then again, he doesn't show much empathy for god's son either when he's being nailed to the cross. french revolution and people being beheaded? oh yes, sure, dreadful—anyway i'm just here for the crepes, the dying humans are just background noise, let's not do anything about that even though it is literally my fucking job as an angel. but noooo. he got peckish and then had lunch. what a fucking hero.

'accidentally' killing a dove because he just had to shove it up his sleeve for a magic act.

someone getting shot and dying? because i was careless? don't care. anyway.

armageddon and all of humanity dying? don't care either until i realise what i personally would lose and then i suddenly give a shit.

centuries upon centuries of aziraphale piling up money and he rather terrorizes poor people than entertain giving them a single dime. crowley has to remind and talk him into it, and as thanks he gets dragged down to hell and tortured.

aziraphale is dripping kindness, isn't he? and all of this doesn't even take into account the ball—human puppet show for his own amusement, this is supervillain shit and you know it—or all the other times he ignored human suffering so he wouldn't be personally inconvenienced.

and ALL OF THAT does not take into account how fucking horribly he treats crowley before time even existed.

aziraphale is not unkind. on a big scale, he cares about humanity, he cares about being nice, being good. he wouldn't intentionally harm someone, but he does not care enough to not be careless—he IS careless, and does NOT care if it kills creatures or humans.

his own personal wants and comfort trump everything else, and that is canon, it is text, it is fact. if you have any canonical examples of aziraphale being genuinely kind simply to be kind, not to be selfishly altruistic, please do add them, i'm serious! if you think i'm wrong, prove me wrong. everything i just listed exists in canon, so please, do the same in return.

giving his sword to adam and eve six thousand years ago does not magically erase everything that came after and it does not give him a free pass to behave however he wants, no matter the cost.

[inconveniently-discorporated]

Hello,

What do you think about that really 'not like Aziraphael' smile of Aziraphael's at the very end of the credits?

Honestly, I have half a dozen competing theories about it in my head.

My favorite theory comes from a sentence from one of the fanfics I shoved into the back room a couple years ago (aka I never finished/published it). The sentence goes something like this:

Whenever a fresh wave of paranoia came over him, he would force a smile back onto his face, and think of the greater good. At one point, he had a seatmate. Somewhere between the fourth errant smile and tenth, Aziraphale had looked up to discover that his seatmate had unceremoniously abandoned him.

Like -- you know how they say doing a power pose will literally make you feel more powerful, or forcing a smile or a laugh will literally release happy chemicals? That's what I feel like he's doing at the end, and it looks just as deranged as I imagined it would when I wrote that sentence (hence scaring off the poor seatmate).

He honestly looks a bit off his rocker, and I think he kind of is. He went from an emotional high of landing this massive opportunity (so he sees it), to having his balloon popped in one fell swoop by Crowley. He almost didn't go, but then decided to anyway. He must be so amped up on every emotion in that moment. There's tremendous pressure, both from the Metatron/Heaven and his own determination that he is NOT going to be proven wrong about this.

There's moments in his expression -- those little micro flinches Michael Sheen is so well-loved for, where you can see the facade beginning to crumble. You can see, like beams of light filtering their way through cracks in the clouds, where the gravity of it all starts to pull at him again. He then quickly repairs those cracks, perhaps by reminding himself of all the wonderful and beautiful things he thinks Heaven should be, all the things he wants to do.

Another smile. He's not an idiot. He'll show Crowley. He'll show them all. He CANNOT break. It's too late, he's already gone. He's in it now, and especially now that he knows what's at stake (the second coming), he has to do this, in his mind. And he will. He's going to. He stopped the apocalypse! He's honest and a leader! So Michael and Uriel still hate him -- he has the Voice of God at his back! They won't ever do to another angel what they did to him.

The final smile, covering up the biggest doubts. He's going to do this. He HAS to do this. It's time to stop thinking about what just happened. He's about to step into a hive of bees, and he had better hope the colony doesn't reject him as their new leader.

And they won't, he's assuring himself. That bigger smile, the one that somehow crinkles his eyes -- because he knows that's what smiles are supposed to do -- but never reaches them all the same. I think he's wearing that smile the way Crowley wears his glasses, with his real feelings buried deep inside, where no one can find them -- not even himself. Because he can't let that happen. Because he has to succeed.