#Because even if he says he wants to run off to alpha centauri you KNOW he won't want to leave the bookshop

[commodorecliche]

if season 3 does not feature at least one scene where Crowley sneaks into the bookshop and sleeps in Aziraphale's room, my head might pop off like a rock-em-sock-em robot

[beauspot]

Thoughts on my second watch of Good Omens 2

i heard the fly buzzing in my first watch but didn’t know why and now i know

Maggie my sweet darling angel baby i love you

Aziraphale turning their car yellow

crowleys “no more dying” in extreme scottish.

Disposable Demon i’ll save you from these awful people i promise 😭

Aziraphale’s little smile when he says “smitten” to Crowley

i wonder if crowley was especially hurt because aziraphale seemed to be able to forgive gabriel who tried to kill him but can’t seem to forgive him being a demon.(still seeing all of this as a metaphor for internalized homophobia, like aziraphale knows he’s not the perfect angel he wants to be and he’s projecting his feelings about that onto crowley)

I can’t believe we got an actual ball. like pride and prejudice, bridgerton ball.

the beautiful score that started playing when aziraphale brought the chandelier down

i didn’t even realize that when they walked in the outfits changed. mrs sandwich made me realize(also i love her)

Nina being the only one to question the weird magical shit Aziraphale and Crowley do sends me so bad.

Season 2 took everything i liked about the first season (aziracrow, queer subtext, gay people, archangels, and beelzebub) and expanded on it

The adorable smile on Aziraphales face when he asked Crowley to dance 😭 he’s so pure(i should have known something was up, everything was going too well)

Crowley saying i won’t leave you on your own and Aziraphale saying i know 🤒

why isn’t aziraphale able to miracle nina and maggie??

crowley and mrs sandwich flirting. too cute

crowley saying he’s neither nice nor a lad.

crowleys little run in heaven when he’s following muriel

maggie giving the middle finger to the demons and laughing in their face when they tried to belittle her. queen

defensive aziraphale is so badass. just because he’s soft doesn’t mean he can’t stand up for himself or the people he loves

the random guitar solo in the final episode theme is so bizarre to me. why is it there?

ahh the raining hearts symbolizing crowleys vavoom plan!

crowley’s heavenly outfit not being white but “light grey”

the relief in aziraphale’s voice when crowley came back 😀

also him mumbling about the halo like he did with the sword 😭 but he sure loves to boast about the things he’s done right to crowley

aziraphale and crowley doing magic together has the power to set off alarm bells in heaven and they barely tried, they’re just in sync

saraqael was such a good addition to the cast.

crowley smiling at aziraphale going off on the angels and demons

“where beelzebub is, is my Heaven.” 🥹

the little knowing look after crowley mentions alpha centauri

the way they just interrupted michael’s speech by leaving 😭

i think that aziraphale was about to ask crowley to move in but that’s my opinion

the look the metatron gave crowley is so strange. i don’t like that

“JUST US. NOT YOU.”

“You’re not helping, angel.”

the softness in aziraphale’s voice when he talked about making crowley an angel again? how can you hate him! he thought he was doing the right thing!

also the miscommunication these two have is completely out of hand because crowley asked aziraphale if he said no and aziraphale hadn’t given an answer AT ALL to the metatron. the metatron told him to take his time. he went back to tell crowley the news first.

crowleys confession makes my stomach hurt. the way his voice broke when he said “we’ve spent our existence pretending that we aren’t.”. the way he had to force himself past his anxiety to tell aziraphale he wanted to spend eternity with him? fuck.

the way aziraphale tells crowley to come with him. like and through all of this they are losing each other, oh my god.

“i need you!” god aziraphale punch me in the face next time why don’t you?

i feel like in all this anger towards aziraphale a lot of people are ignoring that he put himself out there too. he was telling crowley he needed him just like crowley was

“no nightingales.” FUCK YOU GAIMAN

the way aziraphale touched his lips after. dear GOD. someone get michael sheen an emmy

seeing aziraphale struggle against his wanting to kiss crowley back and his fear and wanting him to come back to heaven further supports my internalized homophobia analogy

also even knowing the kiss was going to happen because of the spoiler it still didn’t quell my shock. nor did it ruin the scene, i think it actually surprised me more because it did not happen how i thought it would.

side note i saw some people saying they thought the kiss was going to be a cop out in some way. like a body swap or as a joke and i don’t really know why?

it just occurred to me that both aziraphale and crowley thought the other one was just doing that thing they do where they say they won’t help, or they’re on their own but they eventually come back not knowing that the other was completely set on these plans they had. this wasn’t like armageddon or saving gabriel.

the second coming…of jesus…

crowley cutting off “a nightingale sang in berkeley square”...i’m gonna jump

this being the ending for the next 3-4 years. oh.

[tehloserprince]

Everyone's entitled to their own views, but I feel like the folks who keep saying things like oh, Crowley must have felt so angry seeing Beelzebub with Gabriel, he must be so bitter about them, etc. are really underestimating how much Crowley loves love. In fact, that's probably one of his deepest "flaws" as a demon.

He can huff, puff, and deny it all he likes - because he's a demon and he's not nice - but we've seen him repeatedly acting on the notion of love. As an angel, he was so in love with his creations that he couldn't bear the idea of it all being destroyed in 6,000 years. Even after Falling, those feelings don't fade; he works with Aziraphale to prevent Armageddon from happening. He becomes enamored with Aziraphale when the latter commits what could be viewed as an act of love by gifting his flaming sword to Adam when he and Eve are cast out from the Garden of Eden. His general love of humanity sees him scolding Elspeth into living and "being properly good" rather than committing suicide over the loss of Wee Morag (an act that literally sees him dragged back to Hell and punished, no less). He's so excited when he thinks his rain plot is working on Maggie and Nina and they're about to vavoom. Those are a few of the examples my tired ass can come up with at the moment, and I'm sure there are other instances throughout history that we've never seen, too. But Crowley? Big fan of love.

Even if it's his former Horrible Boss and His Royal Smugness, Crowley isn't going to begrudge them being in love. He may have been shocked by the revelation, but if he had any lingering doubts about it being real, then Aziraphale's reaction would have confirmed it. Outside of Heaven and Hell, duties and titles, they're just Gabriel and Beelzebub, an angel and a demon. Knowing firsthand how love can change and impact people, Crowley may have also realized that Gabriel and Beelzebub were no longer the same angel and demon he'd known previously. Does that absolve them from their previous behavior and actions? No. But it does, perhaps, make them more relatable when viewed against the larger systems at play in the Good Omens universe. A little empathy can go a long way towards healing some resentment. I would even argue that Crowley had let go of some of his resentment towards Gabriel when he told him to jump out a window, but I digress.

Regardless, Crowley sure as hell wouldn't suggest his dream getaway (Alpha Centauri) to people that he despised or resented. Why would you want to risk ever being neighbors with beings you loathed? Having neighbors at all can be bad enough without all that nonsense.

Now, would Crowley feel bitter about not getting that same opportunity to run off with Aziraphale? Sure, that's possible. He made himself vulnerable and got rejected; that stings. But I think the majority of his resentment would be placed elsewhere: on himself, for what he may perceive as his poor timing ("it's always too late"); maybe a little bit towards Aziraphale, for being too wrapped up in the ideals of Heaven ("the side of truth, light, and good"); and almost certainly on Heaven and Hell in general, for being the larger systems behind this mess. Because really, all the angels and demons are victims of those systems in some way. Feeling some bitterness towards Aziraphale doesn't negate the love that he feels for him, either. It makes his heartbreak all the more human, really. "How can someone as clever as you be so stupid?"

But hating on people in love, even when you've had a turbulent history with those people? Nah. Anthony J Crowley, a Definitely Not-Nice Demon, is a simp for love, and I love him for that.

[huang-er-jiejie]

i have so many theories and just observations in general about good omens 2 i physically cannot keep them in my head so here they are

also these are very unorganized because i got them straight out of my notes app😭😭😭

crowley putting his sunglasses back on inside the bookshop for the first time in the season when he's about to leave after aziraphale asks him to go to heaven with him. that being him hiding his eyes so prevent aziraphale from seeing him cry but also symbolizing him putting a barrier back up between them for the first time in millennia

aziraphale saying "i'm big on forgiveness" foreshadowing the "i forgive you." after the kiss.

the "i forgive you line" also being a parallel to the same line in season one when crowley offers to run off to alpha centauri

the "dont bother." after aziraphale says i forgive you makes it feel so final, like he knows and accepts that he is beyond saving and there is no need for forgiveness. also her line in season 1 where he says "unforgivable, thats what i am."

nina and maggie are just a complete mirror of crowley and aziraphale, nina not being able to date maggie right away given shes just broken up with her abusive ex lindsay. and aziraphale not being able to be with crowley because hes healing from the trauma from heaven and he believes he can still fix heaven when you cant, you really cant. heaven is like a toxic ex she stays with because she thinks she can make it work and crowley is the obviously better and sound and caring option hes not ready for.

crowley having a nightingale sang in berkeley square ready to play in the bentley because he planned to play it while he and aziraphale were on the way to the ritz :(((

the way aziraphales face changes in the end credits you can literally see her rationalizing her decision; he starts smiling then going back to frowning, shes thinking of all the potential good she could do but at the same time it hurts her so much to leave.

beelzebub probably just wanted to find gabriel before heaven does so they can take care of him and run away with him maybe in peace without heaven's intervention 😭

crowley standing outside his car, waiting and hoping to see if aziraphale would come back or at least try to chase after him.

aziraphale seems like he looks out the window probably to where crowley is stood after the metatron asks if theres anything else he needs to bring. because he wanted to bring him, she wanted them to be together. but i also feel like for even at least a second when he looks outside, he wants to say no and stay.

this seems obvious but s1 is the creation, 2 the resurrection, and 3 is the second coming/ the judgement of the living and the dead

crowley isnt gonna make the first move again in s3 like,,, aziraphales gonna have to make the moves this time around and theres a chance that a part of crowley might not even think shes being genuine. shes bound to have doubts after what just happened. after being rejected all those times theres at least a part of him that thinks aziraphale doesnt love him, at least not in the way she loves him,,

i love the coffee theory because something is absolutely not right about aziraphale in the following scenes, and somethings not right with the metatron. him changing the phrasing of the amount of almond syrup in the coffee. the fact aziraphale NEVER drinks coffee, only ever tea and wine. cyanide being known to taste like almonds, and seeing what laudanum could do who know what different poisons could. the faint miracle sound effect when the metatron hands it over. and aziraphale being hesitant to take it but the metatron insisting. the smile he makes in the elevator is not at all like any smiles she's done before, it doesn't look like the smile he does when he fakes it, and doesn't look genuine or uncomfortable. it just looks so forced.

the coffee theory is kind of reductive though? like saying that the coffee was the sole reason aziraphale chose heaven, when it isn't. the coffee must have some sort of involvement because of the amount of focus put on a regular cup of coffee, but. i don't think a full on brainwashing thing. just sort of a push in the direction the metatron wants. but the rest? that was all aziraphale and his deep rooted religious trauma.

thats all i got for now so thanks for reading!!

[thesherrinfordfacility]

I am actually curious your thoughts on Aziraphale and accountability as, and I really don't mean this is as an attack (❤️), several of the meta I've read recently have seemed rather uncharitable towards Crowley, and not how I generally perceive his character at all. Which, having certain biases for characters is fine, but I am curious your thoughts on Aziraphale and that 😊

hi anon!!!✨ definitely not seen as an attack; im aware that i do talk a lot about crowley and a good proportion of those opinions/interpretations are definitely more critical than most. and i realise that a good amount of that comes across as biased, but the only thing i can say that i promise i don't mean to be, and tbh - i just find aziraphale so much harder to analyse (and as such, what follows is basically word vomit im sorry)

there are equally multiple instances, in aziraphale's case, where he doesn't appear to acknowledge his own accountability in situations when he arguably should.

to labour on a longstanding example; he lies to crowley about where the antichrist is in s1. i think personally it's important to note why i think he lies; crowley's solution is to either kill a child (specifically, have aziraphale do it) or to run away to alpha centauri and sack off humanity altogether. neither of those options are reconcilable to aziraphale, and i think he keeps the location of adam to himself in order to safeguard him - he similarly gets bad vibes from the archangels, and lies to them too. but when he tries to reach god, fails, and then finds out that the metatron - the next best thing to god and, we're told, is her voice - is absolutely in support of the apocalypse, the first thing he does is ring crowley, and immediately tell him he knows where the antichrist is.

now, im not saying, at all, that aziraphale is apologising by calling crowley, because he isn't. he doesn't admit to having lied, having not trusted crowley (no matter how justifiable that decision might have been at the time), and for leaving crowley in the dark. as far as crowley's aware, from his perspective, aziraphale never lied in the first place. but from the audience perspective, it can be read like aziraphale admitting that crowley was right, and making amends. yes, it's born out of panic that heaven is no longer a solution, and the de facto, last-resort solution needs to be crowley (which comes with its own implications, but again, things have to be pretty dire for aziraphale to even risk the option of killing the child), but it also feels like a silent, 'you were right, you had it right all along, and i see that i was wrong to trust heaven. let my actions speak for me.'

but that's tenuous at best, right? i agree. so, id like to look again at the apology dance, and the circumstances that put them there - the So Did I argument. i have multiple thoughts, that im going to repeat a lot of before, but writing it out sometimes helps me work out what im (eventually) trying to say!

crowley isn't wholly forthcoming/truthful with why he doesn't want aziraphale to help gabriel; it's a bit more than the simple fact of gabriel wanting to throw aziraphale into hellfire. crowley's personal adversity to gabriel are the words he said (as he later admits). it would have been incredibly vulnerable for him to do so, but had crowley spelled out for aziraphale in the So Did I argument why he was so vehement against sheltering gabriel, it may not have changed aziraphale's mind but it would have at least put them on a level playing field. aziraphale, i think, shows crowley exactly why he wants to help him - kindness and compassion, with no ulterior motive than the fact that gabriel just simply doesn't have anyone else.

that being said, aziraphale appears to remain completely ignorant to, or have intentionally disregarded, what the boundaries of 'our side' actually is, especially in crowley's eyes. crowley has only ever meant it to be the two of them, and noone else gets a look-in. i think it's fair to say that aziraphale's perspective is less cut-throat, and more blurry, than that - that he still considers that there should be room for Everything Else. i can imagine that has to feel like a big betrayal to crowley, and in that context it's understandable that he then seems to retract the idea of 'our side' altogether. the heated lines that ensure then detail the conversation entirely:

crowley then storms out, and what aziraphale is left with is the feeling that he is doing the Right Thing, helping someone selflessly, and crowley is refusing to do that (and therefore 'in the wrong'). he's also left with the sense of abandonment; he told crowley about the Something Terrible, that he needed help (something that aziraphale doesn't do often/at all - hence why 'i need you!' hits so hard in the final fifteen imo), and crowley still walked away

so when it comes to the apology dance - crowley is on the back foot purely because of the BOL threat. there's no way he's going to walk away this time, now that aziraphale has been directly threatened - essentially, crowley is trapped into whatever aziraphale wants from him, even if he'll put up a bit of a fight before doing it - aziraphale is steadfast that he deserves the apology dance this time*, that he's in the right

but the one thing they don't do is literally discuss why the dance would be needed in the first place - there's no discussion whatsoever that would even begin to unravel why either way party would be hurt by what the other did. the dance is a farce, one crowley performs with an ulterior motive in mind, but aziraphale only sees it as crowley apologising for the fight.

but what aziraphale doesnt stop to consider is that he may have had a part in it; aziraphale is a highly analytical character, and the equation that he arrives at is, 'argument' + 'crowley doing the dance to mark the unspoken apology (good enough)' = 'crowley was wrong, i was right'. *it doesn't even cross his mind to think beyond the words that accompany the dance, and consider that he had a part in it too. the two of them, for all the lessons that we see them experience in s2, seem to think rather a lot in absolutes - and aziraphale most of all.

i dont think aziraphale magically reaches any kind of epiphany about what he said/did that hurt crowley, and what he therefore needs to take accountability for... unless perhaps we count this?

this is all speculation, of course, but does aziraphale clock that crowley has agreed to help hiding gabriel, have performed the joint miracle, but he might have done it only for aziraphale? it definitely doesn't seem that crowley has suddenly found a hidden, altruistic facet to himself, and he hasn't done it because he considers himself gabriel's friend (quite the opposite, the vehemence in his voice would attest). so, does aziraphale's look signify his realisation that crowley has come back purely for aziraphale himself? that he hasn't retracted 'their side', like aziraphale possibly feared he had, and they are still a team of the two of them? does aziraphale then think that perhaps this is crowley's real apology, and reflects that he needs to reexamine his part in the argument, and how crowley perceived?

as im writing this, it does all feel a bit of a stretch - but it can't be denied that aziraphale then spends the rest of the series, in his very unique (and i say that tongue-in-cheek) way trying to demonstrate to crowley just what 'their side' means to him, what crowley means to him - even if it doesn't quite land 😬 he might not have apologised out loud, but his actions thereafter seem in to suggest that he's aware of what he did wrong. but, in typical fashion, he's trying to speak to crowley in the language that crowley uses with him - he tries to show crowley, when crowley could do with being told.

i think special mention also needs to be paid to the fact that both of them - but especially aziraphale - are absolute terrors when it comes to fucking about with humans. i don't think i necessarily need to wax lyrical about this, but through a combination of messing about with maggie and nina's relationship, fucking about with the two guys in the edinburgh graveyard, the couple in the pub, the whole-ass ball... s2 in particular is a disaster when it comes to aziraphale toying with autonomy and agency, with free will, without any conscience - he doesn't recognise that it's wrong. LWA has pointed out that aziraphale does reach that assessment in the airfield scene of the book, but its pretty clear from his continued behaviour in s2 that this hasn't exactly translated into the show!canon in the same way.

he recognises at the airfield that he was wrong to assume that adam needed to be 'good' in order to make the right call, rather than being simply 'human', but that's not the conclusion that he ought to reach that would indicate that he accepts full responsibility for his actions. this is particularly telling in these two statements:

aziraphale operates in the rather blissful state of mind, in the security, that he is intrinsically good; ive discussed this concept a lot, strangely, when it comes to looking at the metatron and how he might view himself (and speculating on his character being explored in s3), but if aziraphale labours under the same misapprehension that he is completely good, without room for nuance, how can any of his actions therefore be wrong? what does he have to apologise for, if he's always been in the right? (which tbh adds another layer, for me, re: his pissed-off mood when recounting all of the times he did the dance)

i do think he starts to accept the part of himself that contradicts this - his comment on him being light grey in 1941, but also his bashful expression at the end of s1 ("just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing") - but if we consider his inability? reluctance? to admit fault or error, we could surmise that he still largely holds this mentality... until, perhaps, here in ep6? when he realises through the medium of another couple, another angel and demon, that the sides literally do not have to exist?

idk if this has answered your ask sufficiently, anon, and reading it back im wincing at all the bits where im straying once again into the aziraphale bias, but i promise ive tried to be as balanced as possible!!!✨

[mayhaps-a-blog]

Can we also talk about Crowley's religious trauma?

(some spoilers in here...)

I know we're all mad at Aziraphale because he's the one that walked away from our pretty perfect love story. But when you actually get down to it, Crowley's the one that's been running away for the whole story, and has never been the one to stand up to Heaven.

Because when you get down to it, he can't face them.

In season 1, Crowley runs. He gives up almost immediately, and suggests they run off to Alpha Centauri - and he gets close to it! It's Aziraphale who says this isn't right, we have to stay, we have to fight - and eventually pulls Crowley into it.

Crowley never says much to the other angels, and they mostly ignore him. It's Aziraphale who stands up, gets in their face, and tells them no.

Even in the end, in Heaven, it's not Crowley standing up to them - it's Crowley AS Aziraphale. And he still doesn't say much - he's nice to Gabriel, like he thinks his angel would be.

Enter season 2, where the same thing is happening. Aziraphale is faced with a crisis involving Heaven, and Crowley's first instinct is to bolt. Get rid of it, hide it, don't get involved. It's Aziraphale who insists that they stay and fix it.

And in the end...

Crowley wants them to run. He wants to run away where Heaven can't or won't find them, leave them to their own devices, let them do whatever! as long as he and Aziraphale are clear.

But Aziraphale wants to stay. He wants to do something. He knows Heaven won't give up that easily - he wants to stay, and fight.

But Crowley... can't.

He can't face Heaven - not after what they did to him. He doesn't think they can win - he lost last time, after all - and he is so focused on not getting hurt again that he can't even find the will to try.

And he doesn't believe Heaven can change. Not before, not now, not ever.

All he can see is the pain Heaven caused, and the trials he went through because of them. All he can focus on is how Aziraphale could be hurt, like he was, and that nothing would change, like when he tried.

He can't accept that things might be different. He can't accept that Aziraphale knows all that, and is going to try anyway.

So he runs.

And Aziraphale stays.

[forlornmelody]

Hi 👋

For the Good Omens Ask Game, questions 8, 12, 15 and 24!

Thanks!!!

8. Who is your favourite character and why?

Ahh! This is like choosing between children! (And by children I mean furbabies ;)) I love Crowley for the softness beneath his jaded exterior. His snide humor, and his impeccable taste in clothes. Good lord, indeed. But I also love Az's complexity. His efforts to do the Right thing always lead him to such unexpected places. He leads with love, always, even if he doesn't allow himself to love Crowley in the way he yearns to, in the end. (Even if Crowely did go with him to Heaven, the there wouldn't be an "us.".....and I'm completely off-topic here, aren't I?

I'm gonna throw a curve ball here and say Anathema Device. She's insanely smart, driven, kind, but also not afraid to tell you off if need be.

12. Which character do you feel is underrated?

Oh, Nina. Hands down. The way she calls out every. bizarre. thing. that happens around those "partners" The way she doesn't rush into a relationship with Maggie even though she clearly has feelings for her, because she doesn't want to rebound after Lindsay. The way she gets free of Lindsay, even if the breakup wasn't her idea. I'm just really proud of her, mmkay? People don't talk about her enough.

15. If you could be besties with anyone from the Good Omens universe, who would it be?

Sorry, Crowley, but Az knows how to bake and he owns a motherfucking bookshop. Also, everyone knows being besties with Az means you're besties with Crowley by default. Win win!

24. Who would you choose to run off to Alpha Centauri with?

Agnes Nutter. You know that lady knows how to have a good time.

[samedmunds]

My litany thoughts on 1999 cult classic strategy video game Sid Meier's Alpha Centauri

Alpha Centauri is a game of the early Civilization variety from the EA golden age and ranks very highly in my top ten. While you probably heard of it if you were playing video games around the turn of the century, I've found members of my age cohort to be tragically unfamiliar with this masterpiece.

Alpha Centauri is an unofficial sequel to Civilization II, a game where the only way to way to win is either completely eliminate all competitors to the last city or, rather more easily, send a spaceship loaded with colonists to the title star system. Shortly after leaving home, the ship loses contact with Earth, which would make sense to a player of Civilization II where the bonuses to science and trade from democracies evaporate when technology ends, upon which point all the AIs revolt and become militant fundamentalist theocracies and climate change rapidly destroys the planet, leaving the player with an endgame that is literally 1984. Either way, when the already strained ship arrives at the Alpha Centauri system an unknown partisan assassinates the captain of the UNS Unity and the population fractures into seven opposing factions before firing the colony pods and exploring an inconveniently hostile planet.

The player starts here, in typical Civ fashion: a scout, settler, and absolutely no technology to speak of. That isn't to say you are a bunch of primitives, all your units start out with some approximation to modern guns and judging by the amazing quotes and wonder videos your society is well beyond the 21st century--more on the story later. The gameplay is incredibly well-balanced in spite of its age and quirks (with the exception of the freight-train progression of Yang). Rapid early expansion as the bountiful Peacekeepers may leave you at serious risk to the relentlessly martial Spartans, who are in turn threatened by the uber-specialized technocratic University--but be careful to underestimate the backwards Lord's Believers, their probe teams will just as quickly rob you of your gains. The Morganites can afford to sparsely defend their home if they're willing to pay off their aggressors, but they'll struggle expand over great swaths of territory without irking civil unrest drone riots from corruption. Meanwhile the Gaian Acolytes can harness the permanently-dangerous mindworms to great effect from the beginning of the game. Yang just... builds. And keeps building, and next thing you know he's conquered the Peacekeepers and turned Miriam into nothing more than a puppet and where are all these cruise missiles are coming from?

In short, the strategic design of this game is nothing less than a work of art, but that isn't to say it doesn't have its anachronisms. The User Interface has taken its inspiration from early versions of Microsoft Word and it rapidly pays off to know the hotkeys. The wonder videos are resolution locked and can sometimes cause problems depending on your display configuration. The unit creation system is simultaneously wonderful and horrendous. It allows me to create special long-range nerve gas bombers that eradicate cities shortly before orbitally-dropping specially-trained garrisons to quash all resistance. On the other hand, if you do not accept the cumbersome slew of computer-generated options, keeping your new weapons systems up to date with your latest technology (especially when playing as Zakharov) rapidly becomes a chore.

That said, there are a variety of features in the game that I think deserve to make a reappearance in the Civ Games. The pick-your-government system is incredibly balanced and fun to roleplay. You can't get away with crimes against humanity when solar storms hit in Civilization VI, nor can you weaponise climate change to flood your rivals cities, or strategically terraform to alter weather patterns and deny your neighbors arable land. At the bare minimum, we should be given the option to nerve staple rebelling cities when our control runs out!

All that said, there is also the story to contend with. One is at first tempted to think that a 4x strategy game with a marked emphasis on replayability would necessarily have a tacked-on story, if one at all. After all, the point is for the player to create it through their actions, not have it spoonfed to them. The majority of what you learn about your world that isn't printed in numbers and small pictures on the mapscreen is through blurbs that accompany each discovered technology or new building. The aforementioned wonders even have their adorable early-CG renderings, sometimes mixed in with some experimental film footage. There are occasional interludes that describe the mindworms and machinations of Planet, but the bulk of the wordage comes from epigrams of the faction leaders and the occasional bit of Nietzsche or Plato. It's so good that I can't help but stop and listen to CEO Nbwadibuke Morgan ramble on about supply chain economics or Sister Miriam's apocalyptic warnings every single time. Take some examples.

Proper care and education for our children remains a cornerstone of our entire colonization effort. Children not only shape our future; they determine in many ways our present. Men and women work harder knowing their children are safe and close at hand, and never forget that, with children present, parents will defend their home to the death!

--Col. Corazon Santiago, "Planet: A Survivalist's Guide"

Or perhaps, a more on the nose one:

"The Academician's private residences shall remain off-limits to the Genetic Inspectors. We possess no retroviral capability, we are not researching retroviral engineering, and we shall not allow this Council to violate faction privileges in the name of this ridiculous witch hunt!

--Fedor Petrov, Vice Provost for University Affairs Accompanies the Retroviral Engineering technology

The game often doesn't directly tell you what Retroviral engineering is, nor does it labor to explain just what having someone nerve stapled means, or the precise function of the Recycling Tanks, but through its quotation it beautifully circumlocutes the world you are shaping--and being shaped by. It really never pulls any of its punches, even if its just on Organic Superlube--great stuff--and I still catch muself quoting it regularly.

Ursula LeGuin once wrote

"Science fiction is often described, and even defined, as extrapolative. The science fiction writer is supposed to take a trend or phenomenon of the here-and-now, purify and intensify it for dramatic effect, and extend it into the future. 'If this goes on, this is what will happen.' [...] This may explain why many people who read science fiction describe it as 'escapist,' but when questioned further, admit they do not read it because 'it's so depressing.'"

Alpha Centauri is absolutely extrapolative fiction and very firmly rooted in the 1990s and I love it. It was released in the Aaron Sorkin TV, pre-9/11 days where the word Internet was more often than not followed by the words, "is like an information superhighway" and it absolutely no efforts are made to cover it up. The main factions are a cross-section of the New Millenium's hopes and anxieties. A New Russia that went a very different path before Putin took over, a cheerful clan of ruthless Western capitalists hellbent on putting Morganvision on every network set, a group of vaguely Scottish free-love peaceniks hellbent on defending the most-of-the-time incredibly hostile environment. There's the Second-Amendment preaching Spartans or the optimistically-influential UN which, judging by its naming scheme for its bases, seems to dedicate entire cities to bureaucratic agencies. The All-American Christian fundamentalists don't entirely butt heads with the frighteningly powerful Human-Hive (if your country calls their cities names like "Huddling of the People" and "Paradise Swarming" you might not be the good guys). The expansion also brings in more dynamic characters like the Information Wants to be Free! data angels Brian Reynolds very clearly came up with after watching Swordfish and Hackers back to back or the Nautilus Pirates who have no right to be as fun as they are.

The visions of the future are at once both anachronistic and prophetic; while elements may come off as cheese, I see it as a sort of window to the past, a way to examine what was once (and sometimes still is) on our mind. All in all, I give Sid Meier's Alpha Centauri 4 out of 5 stars and a definite all-time favorite, warts and all. You can pick it and its expansion up for $6 on Gog.com and play it through a built-in emulator that works for most systems. If you're willing to brave a dated interface and an older-fashioned gameplay style, I would definitely recommend it.

[chevrolangels]

though the stars walk backward

#24: You’re my ex but I think I still have feelings for you, 4.1k

From this prompt list

For @princessjimmynovak​  This was requested approximately a million years ago and I finally finished it!! Happy belated birthday darling 💜

Feat. Space Ex-Boyfriends who are bad at talking to each other. So, canon. But in space. (Dean has always wanted to be an astronaut, lbr)

read on ao3

“New crop of cadets coming in today.”

“I know.”

Charlie bites into her apple, munching as she scans her screen.

“Hope they’re better than the last ones. Half of ‘em couldn’t tell the difference between a spectrometer and an ammeter.”

Castiel doesn’t comment. He’s too on edge to indulge Charlie today, so he just shrugs, swiveling his chair back in front of the control panel.

Everything’s on autopilot, like always, but he likes to check the nav-console by hand, every once in a while, if nothing but to prove his usefulness. Wouldn't do to have the computer shift a few degrees without anyone noticing and end up halfway to Alpha Centauri.

“I mean, what do they think we do up here? Run pretty tests for fun?” Charlie continues. “Like, one leak is the difference between life and death.”

Castiel makes a noncommittal noise and starts typing in the complicated sequence with his stylus, the starmap projected before him, their course pulsing with gentle blue light.

“I mean, they’re gone for all that time, least the Academy can do is make sure they’re prepared.”

Castiel bites his tongue, typing with perhaps a little more force than is necessary. He loves Charlie, but her ranting is really starting to get to him. Castiel might be the best pilot this side of the Pleiades, but hey. He’s only human.

“If they send me one more programmer who asks me how to do an abstraction, I’m going to―”

“Charlie, do you mind?” Castiel snaps. “I’m trying to concentrate here.”

He regrets it immediately. Charlie does go quiet, but makes a thoroughly overdramatic roll of her chair into Castiel’s eyeline. She raises an eyebrow.

“Somethin’ you wanna share with the class there, bud?”

Castiel exhales, rolling his shoulders.

“Sorry. I just...need to focus.”

“...Right.”

A decidedly sneaky look crosses her face, one that Castiel knows spells trouble.

She leans forward, propping her chin up on her hands.

“Is it because you gotta do the whole ‘Captain Thing’ later?” She asks. “Shake hands, greet the greets, that whole deal?”

Castiel acquiesces.

“Partly.”

He quickly finishes the rest of the code and enters it into the nav-console, sinking back in his seat. Charlie purses her lips.

“And I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that the teaching staff is coming back, huh.”

Castiel keeps his face carefully neutral, even as he feels the back of his neck grow hot. He fiddles with the stylus in his hands, turning it over and over again.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh-huh.”

Charlie taps her chin, looking thoughtful.

“What’s it been, two years?” She whistles, drawing it out. “Long time.”

Castiel just grunts. He should be getting up, to change into his uniform for the new batch of arrivals, but he makes no attempt to move.

“Dean’s coming back, too, right?”

Castiel snaps the stylus in half.

Charlie grins.

Castiel looks down at his hand, shoving the broken stylus into his pocket.

“If he is, I haven’t heard anything about it,” he says loftily. “And whether he does or not certainly doesn’t affect me.”

Charlie tilts her head.

“Didn’t they send the transfer roster last week?”

Castiel glares at her. She smirks back, giving him a cheeky wink.

Castiel abruptly pushes back from the console, standing.

“I have to go change,” he says shortly.

Once he gets to his quarters and the door slides closed behind him, Castiel sinks back against it, dropping his head in his hands.

Two years. Two years since Castiel chose to stay, and he chose to leave. Two years, of long lonely nights in front of the computer, of avoiding the Observation Deck, of throwing himself into his work. Two years in which Castiel thought he’d successfully ridded every last trace of Dean Winchester from his life.

After that night, Castiel had thrown away everything he’d ever given him. Every trinket, every gift, every scrap of paper―pathetic trophies of infatuation that Castiel had saved like a fool, pressed between the pages of his books.

The rest of the ship noticed, of course, because how could they not―Charlie, especially, had been particularly persistent in trying to get Castiel to tell her what happened. But Castiel resolutely refused to talk about him, and glowered sufficiently at any mention of his name that eventually people just learned to stop bringing him up.

But time marches ever onward, and the training cycle at the Academy is complete. The institution that Dean fled to in the first place is now spitting him back out, thrusting him back into Castiel’s life.

Castiel presses the heels of his hands to his eyes. How is he going to stand in front of nearly three hundred people and shake his hand? Just the mention of his name made Castiel want to throw something, bringing back all those memories Castiel tried so hard to forget. It may have been two years, but everything that made the man named Dean Winchester the best part of his life is still imprinted in Castiel’s memory, like a brand.

It’s times like this when Castiel wishes he could be like one of Charlie’s computers, erasing all information at the touch of a button. There would be no pain, no memories―like he had never existed in the first place.

Castiel exhales, looking down at his hands.

He’ll just have to make it quick. It really wouldn’t do for the captain to start a fistfight in front of the entire crew.

x

Roughly thirty minutes later, Castiel finds himself standing stiffly at the end of the receiving line of officers, the collar of his uncomfortable dress uniform cutting into his neck. Something must be off with the temperature regulators in the receiving deck, because he’s sweating, a few locks of hair slipping loose from his hat. He attempts to comb them back into place until Naomi hisses at him to stop fidgeting.

Charlie is beside him as Chief Engineering Officer. She cranes her neck above the crowd, looking at the small group that’s just disembarked from the transport ship.

“Showtime,” she says, adjusting her gloves.

Castiel closes his eyes briefly, breathing in. He can do this.

The new ones pass through first, freshly graduated, young and starry-eyed. Castiel can appreciate their eager enthusiasm. It’s important work they do here on the ship, and they need the best crew to make it possible. They shake his hand vigorously, hopefully interpreting his tight-lipped stare as stoic strength.

Then, the officers.

Hannah, who Castiel has always liked, gives him a warm smile and clasps his hands, telling him how much they missed him. Castiel agrees with the sentiment, but he can barely focus during their conversation, continually darting his eyes towards the end of the line.

The procession inches forward, painfully slow. Cain, Chief Military Strategist, is next, then Billie, and Linda Tran. Crowley, a truly despicable human being, but perhaps the most brilliant Flight Engineer Castiel’s ever worked with, passes with a slimy smile―and then, a face Castiel hasn’t seen in a long time.

“Captain Novak,” Sam says warmly, reaching out to shake his hand. “It’s been a while.”

Castiel smiles back, unable to help himself.

“It has,” he agrees, taking his hand. Despite whatever may have happened between him and his brother, Castiel always liked Sam. “I can’t tell you how much we’ve missed you during your absence.”

Sam nods, dropping Castiel’s hand.

“Believe me, we missed it here, too,” he says, smiling. “You never know how good you have it until you have to spend time way out in the boonies.”

Castiel chuckles. He remembers. The time at the Academy might be necessary, but it certainly couldn’t be called comfortable.

Sam turns, indicating the cadets behind them.

“We’ve got a good group for you here, Cas,” he says, dropping the nickname with easy familiarity. “I think you’ll be happy with them.”

“Good to hear,” Castiel replies. “I’m sure they benefited from having you as a teacher.”

Sam shrugs, ever modest.

Naomi clears her throat from behind them, not-so-subtly encouraging him to move it along. Sam smiles and gives Castiel a small little salute, moving away.

Castiel sighs, tugging at his collar. To his left, he hears a low chuckle.

“Still hate that uniform, huh?”

Castiel stiffens.

He’d know that voice anywhere.

He slowly lowers his hand, looking up into the face he tried two years to forget.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean says softly, smiling.

His eyes are bright, shining, like he wants to be here. Funny. Castiel seems to remember he went halfway across the star system just to get away from him.

He extends a hand, holding it out for Castiel to shake.

Castiel clears his throat, but doesn’t move.

“Dr. Winchester,” he replies stiffly. “Welcome back.”

Dean chuckles.

“Oh, right,” he says sheepishly. “I gotta call you ‘Captain Novak’, now, huh? Sorry.”

He looks up, that soft smile returning.

“Old habits, I guess,” he murmurs.

His hand is still extended, in the distance between them. Naomi must be practically foaming at the mouth at such a lack of decorum. Castiel couldn’t care less.

Dean looks exactly the same, perhaps a few more lines around his eyes, still that perfect shade of green. Dean's eyes always reminded Castiel of Earth.

Dean seems to be thinking along the same lines. He looks Castiel up and down, gaze lingering for a moment on the few locks of hair Castiel knows must still be stubbornly escaping from beneath the brim of his hat.

“You haven’t changed at all,” Dean continues. “Even after two years.”

“And three months, six days,” Castiel says coolly.

Dean’s smile fades a little.

“Right.”

He pulls back his hand, awkwardly picking at the edge of the hat in his hands.

Castiel’s heart is beating wildly, but he keeps his face still as stone. Dean shifts uncomfortably, then seems to make a decision.

He leans in, lowering his voice.

“Look, Cas, you know I always hated this formal junk,” he murmurs. “Can we talk later, maybe?”

He sounds so cavalier, so oblivious, and Castiel hates it.

“Catch up?” Dean asks. “Away from all these people?”

Castiel gives him his coldest stare.

“I don’t think so, Dr. Winchester,” he says sharply. “Running this ship is a full time job.”

Dean blinks, and he stares at him, looking like he’s just been slapped across the face. The monster of heartache and pain inside Castiel roars with a vicious triumph.

“I have enough on my plate as it is,” he continues dismissively. “I simply don’t have time to indulge every junior officer who wants to waste my time.”

He straightens, looking away disinterestedly.

“You’d do best to remember that.”

For a moment, Dean doesn’t speak, merely staring at Castiel, his mouth open in disbelief.

Then he remembers himself, and with a glance at Naomi, he stands up straight, placing his officer’s hat back on his head.

“Yeah,” Dean mutters, lowering his eyes. “Well.”

There’s an awkward cough from Charlie to his left. Castiel ignores her.

“It’s good to see you, again, Cas,” Dean murmurs. “Really.”

Somehow, he makes it sound genuine.

He exits the platform, quickly disappearing into the crowd.

Castiel watches Dean go an uneasy curl in his throat. The brief flare of vengeful satisfaction is already leeching away, leaving him feeling brittle and hollow.

Naomi is already busy shooing the officers into the reception hall, for the welcome banquet. Charlie finds Castiel’s arm and squeezes it, her eyes sympathetic.

“Cas?” She asks quietly. “You okay?”

Castiel clenches his jaw.

“Think I might have to get back to you on that."

x

Later, after the banquet, after three hours of restless tossing and turning, Castiel slowly gets up, not bothering with shoes.

Wandering the hallways used to be his favorite pastime. The quiet, the stillness. He still does it, on occasion, when he finds sleep isn’t easy in coming. The lights that try to mimic some semblance of a day and night cycle are dimmed low, the halls empty, most retired to their chambers.

Castiel makes his way up to the Observation Deck, taking a brief look around. There’s no one there, no one to spy on the captain of their ship, stealing away in the night for some much needed solitude. He walks the ramp to the very top part of the observatory, leaning his arms on the handrail. Castiel used to spend hours here. He would sit and watch the stars turn, feeling at once very small and very infinite. He sits now, staring out at the vast darkness before him. It’s utterly quiet, the electric hum of the ship the only sound in the gloom.

Unbidden, his thoughts turn to the last conversation he had here.

Castiel had just learned he had been chosen to be the next Captain, a highly selective process that he had stressed about for weeks. The first person he wanted to tell was Dean.

But Dean had come with news of his own.

A teaching job at the Academy. Highly prestigious, second probably only to Castiel’s role―but that meant―

“Two years,” Dean said to his hands, his voice flat. “That’s how long I’d be gone.”

Castiel felt his brief taste of happiness deflate like a suit after a spacewalk.

“Two years?” He echoed, his tongue thick in his mouth. Dean nodded mutely.

“That’s…”

Castiel bit his lip.

“Wow,” is all he managed.

“Yeah,” Dean muttered.

There was a long moment where neither of them spoke.

“So…”

Castiel hardly dared to say it.

“I’m guessing you knew that when you applied,” he said flatly.

Dean nodded mutely.

“Didn’t really account for you becoming the Captain,” he muttered.

Anger flared within Castiel.

“What, because you think I wouldn’t get it?”

“No!” Dean said immediately, looking up. “God, no, Cas, of course not. Why would you think that?”

“I’m thinking a lot of things right now,” Castiel shot back.

Dean shut his mouth angrily.

“I guess...I guess it’s just hitting me how long two years really is,” he said finally.

Castiel sucked in a breath, stunned.

“You’re not serious,” he whispered. Dean dragged a hand down his face, avoiding his eyes.

“I don’t know, Cas!” He said, voice rising in the quiet. “I mean...you’ll have your job, Cas, I'll have mine...who knows if you’ll have any time for me―”

“Oh, I won’t have time for you?” Castiel repeated scathingly. God, he should have known, it’s just like Dean―shove the blame off himself and project it onto Castiel instead of owning his feelings like an adult.

“Just say you don’t want to be with me and get it over with,” he snapped.

“Cas…” Dean started.

Castiel couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t believe this was happening.

Dean sighed, breath shaky.

“I―”

Castiel looked up.

He saw the look in Dean’s eyes and he didn’t let him finish. He didn’t let him break his heart.

He ran like a coward.

Castiel wipes angrily at his eyes, banishing the memory. He can’t change the past, so he might as well not dwell on it.

He looks up, at the wilderness of the stars. They shimmer gently against the blank expanse, his constant companions. Castiel can tell you the distance between Betelguese and Rigel, can calculate the time it would take to travel to Sirius and back, but he could never navigate his own life so surely.

If only humans could be as constant as the Heavens.

Behind him, the floor creaks softly. Castiel goes still.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean murmurs.

Castiel turns, glancing over his shoulder.

Dean is standing at the end of the platform, in his sleep pants and shirt. He looks so different out of his uniform. Softer. More like himself.

“Dean,” Castiel says, unable to stop the name from coming to his lips.

Dean responds with a bashful smile, one hand twisting nervously into the hem of his shirt.

“Figured I'd find you here."

He glances out at the stars, then back to Castiel.

“You mind if I join you?”

Castiel swallows, but looks away, saying nothing.

Dean seems to take that as permission, and sits, legs hanging over the edge of the deck, next to Castiel.

There once was a time when they’d sit close enough for their knees to knock, their hands lacing over the railing as Dean told stories, weaving grand tales of the constellations and their histories, while Castiel listened, enraptured.

Now the distance of that memory feels vast, lightyears away. They’re both quiet, not speaking a word. The silence is thin, fragile as glass.

“Cas―”

So Dean will be the one to break it.

He pauses, brow furrowing as he searches for words. Castiel bristles, waiting for it.

“Look,” Dean says, turning to face him. “I get it. You don’t want anything to do with me. But―”

“You’re right,” Castiel interrupts fiercely. “I don’t.”

Dean goes silent beside him. When Castiel finally musters the courage to look up, Dean is staring at him, hopeless and broken.

“Can you at least let me explain?” His voice comes out low and hoarse.

Castiel is torn. Half of him melts, seeing Dean so desperate. But the other half, the rational part of him that remembers the danger of falling for Dean Winchester cautions him, telling him the smartest thing he can do right now is walk away, and never open his heart again.

He lowers his head, exhaling heavily.

“I can’t,” he mutters. “Dean, I just…can’t.”

“You’re angry,” Dean says softly. Castiel scoffs.

“You’re damn right I'm angry,” he mutters. “And I don’t care about any half-assed apology you have for me, not now. Too little, too late.”

He moves back from the railing, pushing himself up. Tears are starting to come to his eyes, hot and bitter, and he’ll be damned if he’ll let Dean see him cry.

“Cas, wait―”

He reaches out, grabbing his hand.

Castiel freezes, rooted to the spot. Dean is frozen too, looking down at their joined hands. He doesn’t let go, though.

“Just...slow down, will ya?” Dean says, and there’s a hint of a laugh there, the way he always sounded when he would talk Castiel off the ledge. But now, it only ignites the rage inside him, and Castiel rips his arm from Dean’s grasp, whirling on him.

“No!” Castiel yells, shattering the silence. “You left, and you don’t get to do this now, you don’t get to come waltzing back into my life like everything’s fine―”

Dean’s eyes widen, he holds up his hands.

“Cas―”

“You broke up with me, remember?”

“No, I didn’t, Cas, will you shut up for two seconds and listen?”

Surprisingly, Castiel does. He blinks, slightly stunned at Dean’s words.

What is he talking about?

“Look,” Dean says quickly, probably to prevent Castiel from shouting again. “I only applied to the stupid Academy because Sammy was too―he was freaking out about the process, so I did it with him, just to show him it was nothing. He’s the smart one, so never in a million years did I think they’d choose me, too.”

Castiel crosses his arms, huffing under his breath. Even if he does hate him right now, it always hurts to hear Dean undersell himself.

“The moment I found out, all I wanted to do was talk to my best friend about how fucking scared I was.” Dean sighs. “And then you said you were picked to be Captain, and it all just...seemed too much.”

He looks down, twisting his hands.

“I panicked. God—somehow had it in my mind that the minute I told you you wouldn’t want to be with me, that there wouldn’t be any room in your life for me anymore. And seeing your face in that moment, you were so excited, and then it just slid off your face…"

Castiel remembers. Shit, he had been so happy, so proud—and when Dean told him…

He’d never been good at hiding his feelings, not with Dean.

He turns over their last conversation in his mind and all at once it seems to click, now that he knows what Dean must have thought.

“I jumped to conclusions,” Dean admits quietly. “I was...so afraid you wouldn’t want to do the long distance thing for two years so I….kind of...let you break us up before I could.”

Castiel stares at him, a painful bubble of emotion rising in his throat. Oh.

Dean continues.

“If anything, I wanted you to ask me to stay.” He lowers his head, dragging a hand through his short hair. “Which was wrong. I get that now.”

He looks up, huffing out a feeble laugh.

“Believe me, Cas,” he says lowly. “It took me all of about an hour to realize how badly I fucked up. But by that time the solar flares were surging and we had to go.”

Dean bites at his lip.

“I looked for you. I tried. But you had locked yourself away in a meeting and I didn’t get to say goodbye. You didn’t let me,” he finishes, a sad bitter note in his voice.

Castiel cannot speak, in shock. He never knew. He’d always thought...after that conversation, that Dean had left without so much as a glance back.

“You…”

He eventually trails off. He has no words.

Dean takes a tentative step forward.

“And you know what it’s like out there. The distances are too far, so they restrict communication.” He shrugs, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t try, though.”

“What?” Castiel asks.

“I tried to send transmissions back,” Dean says, rushing out the words. “Every day for a month. They kept telling me personal messages weren’t allowed. I even tried to break into the control center after hours.”

“Dean,” Castiel breathes, awed and horrified all at once. “You didn’t.”

Dean chuckles.

“Nearly got myself tossed out of the airlock for that one.”

His teeth return to his lip again, his green eyes hesitant.

“Sam said I was crazy. I just told him he’d never been in love.”

Castiel's throat goes dry.

They’d never said, not even before Dean left. But Castiel knew he was. Only love leaves that big and jagged of a hole.

“That’s why,” he says softly. “Why I never heard from you the whole two years.”

“And three months, and six days,” Dean says quietly.

Castiel bites his lip.

“Yeah,” Dean says softly. “I was counting, too.”

He sighs, spreading his hands.

“So, yeah. I messed up. And I get it if you never want to talk to me again, I just―”

Dean never finishes his speech because he doesn't need to. In three swift steps, Castiel has reached him and pulled him in by the front of his shirt.

Dean makes a soft noise of surprise as Castiel presses their lips together, but he quickly gets on board, pulling Castiel in by his waist, kissing him back. And he no longer needs to dream about Dean’s warmth, his lips underneath his, the dry rough touch of his palm coming to cup Castiel’s cheek. He’s here, and he’s real, and he’s never going to let him get away again.

Dean pulls back slightly, pressing his forehead against Castiel’s

“Damn,” he breathes. “I missed that.”

Castiel tightens his grip.

“Dean, I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

“Yeah,” Dean chuckles. “So am I.”

He licks his lips, looking down at Castiel’s.

“I was an idiot,” he murmurs, and the sound rumbles through his chest. Castiel shivers.

“I should have just told you,” Dean finishes, shaking his head slightly.

“Yes,” Castiel says, bumping their noses together. “You should have.”

Dean laughs, and it’s possibly the most beautiful sound Castiel’s ever heard.

“There’s the asshole I remember.”

They both grin, just basking in their closeness, breathing quietly.

“So.”

“So.”

Castiel clears his throat.

“So, this whole time, we wanted to be with each other and we just...weren’t.”

Dean chuckles.

“Sounds like it.”

“Wow.”

Castiel shakes his head.

“We’re a couple of dumbasses.”

Dean laughs again.

“Sums up the last fifteen years of us knowing each other.” He reaches out tentatively, fingers brushing Castiel’s. “Don’t you think?”

Castiel smiles, turning his hand up so Dean can thread their fingers together. He knows they so much they still have to say, so much to catch up on to fix everything that’s broken between them.

By a backdrop of stars, Dean kisses him once more, and well, that’s as good a start as any.

[chaoticsoulsword]

I apologize in advance but @hoaryhoggoths​ and I created this Doomstrange x Good Omens AU and everything fits like a glove, I can’t.

Hear us out:

Aziraphale = Stephen

Crowley = Doom

Anathema = Wanda

Newt = Vision

Warlock = Valeria Richards

Warlock’s parents: Sue and Reed

Adam Young = Illyana Rasputin

Adam’s parents: Charles and Erik

Archangel Gabriel = Steve Rogers

Sandalphon = Tony Stark

Michael = Namor

Uriel = T'Challa

Pepper = Zelma

Wensleydale = Billy Kaplan

Brian = Nico Minoru

Sister Mary Loquacious = Scott Lang

Madame Tracy = Natasha

Witchfinder Sergeant Shadwell = Bucky

Death = Death

Pollution = Oblivion

Famine = Eternity

War = Infinity

Beelzebub = Emma Frost

Hastur = Daimon

Ligur = Satana

Satan = Mephisto/Belasco

God = Vishanti

Stephen is the dumb angel who is both very smart and stupid, also he’s afraid of the Vishanti. Yet, he gives the Eye of Agamotto to Adam and Eve because he’s so caring and naive. And Doom immediately falls in love with him the moment he says “I GAVE IT AWAY”. Stephen call his bookshop “the Sanctum Sanctorum” but he hates having clients. He loves his old tomes very much. Also he loves food, mostly tea. Victor hates when Stephen says that “Vishanti’s plan is ineffable,” tho.

Doom, on the other hand, is very practical but he doesn’t like being a demon. He didn’t mean to fall, he just wanted to save his mother’s figure from hell and thus was cast away. The fall burned and scarred his face, this is why he wears sunglasses all the time. Everyone blames him for the misery he put humanity through but actually he does nothing wrong ever (the only exception being when he plays god with his plants). “GROW BETTAAAAH”, he screams dramatically. Doom was once a very powerful archangel and created Alpha Centauri. Now he just grows more and more attached to the dumb angel at Greenwich Village.

When Satana and Daimon gave the Antichrist (Illyana) to Victor, he left the baby in Father Lang’s hands. He was supposed to switch the US Ambassador and wife’s (Reed and Sue Richards) child and the Antichrist, but he screwed things up. Illyana ended up going to Erik and Charles’ home, while Valeria became Sue and Reed’s child. The third child is unkown to us.

Stephen and Victor then, intending to avoid doomsday, have this brilliant idea to infiltrate the Richards’ Baxter Mansion and being figures of bad and good influence to Valeria. Victoria is now her nanny, while Brother Steven is the gardner. Victoria will sing lullabies about conquering the world and crushing enemies, while Brother Steven will say: “Don’t listen to her. Listen to me.”

When they conclude their mission, they return to their regular activities, believing Valeria will not become the Antichrist. Except they’re wrong. During Valeria’s 11th birthday party, they expected the hellhound to appear. But it never shows up. “Wrong child.”

The hellhound finds Illyana, who names it Bats. Nico, Billy and Zelma are Illy’s best friends and they’re inseparable. Charles and Erik are worried about Illy, but they try their best to be good parents.

In the meantime, Wanda Maximoff flies to America in order to find the Antichrist. She carries her family’s legacy: witchcraft and the book called Darkhold. Interestingly enough, Wanda loses the Darkhold when Victor hits her with his car. Wanda only accepts their aid because she’s so sure they’re a gay couple. “Come on, angel.” Oh, everything makes sense now. Also Victor is so bitter, he keeps teasing Stephen for performing miracles. “Oh, Vishanti, heal this bike.”

We’re also introduced to Vision, a synthezoid who, ironically enough, is bad with computers. Vision meets an old man named Sergeant Bucky who is very committed to find and burn witches. He lives next to Madame Natasha, whom he despises for her profession. Bucky hires Vision as a witchfinder.

Meanwhile, Archangel Steve Rogers and Tony go visit Stephen in the Sanctum regarding the Antichrist. They’re bad at playing humans. “Thank you for my pornography!” Tony yells for everyone to hear. “You can’t make a war without war! That’s brilliant, Tony!”, Steve says. There are other angels, such as T’Challa and Namor. Rumors say they’re called the Illuminati.

As doomsday approaches, the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse rise: Eternity, Infinity, Oblivion and Death.

Finding out that Doom lied about the Antichrist, Satana and Daimon Hellstrom go haunt Victor. Satana ends up dead (but not really because these two always come back). White Queen of Hell Emma Frost is not pleased, though. Good thing her demonic group called The Cabal was in cahoots with one of the Illuminati, the archangel Namor.

As things get more complicated, Stephen and Victor have an argument. Victor wants to go to Alpha Centauri and Stephen is afraid of betraying Heaven.

"How long have been acquaintances?"

"Acquaintances? We're not acquaintances. We're an angel and a demon."

Victor tries to convince him one last time but Stephen is adamant. “We can run away together. Alpha Centauri!” When Stephen refuses once more, Victor is tired and angry and frustrated. “I’m going home, Angel. And when I’m off in the stars, I won’t even think about you!”

Victor, obviously, can’t live without Stephen. So of course he goes back to the Sanctum, only to find it in flames. He’s desperate, mostly because he knows the pain of being burned, but Stephen is nowhere to be found. “SOMEONE KILLED MY BEST FRIEND! FOOLS! ALL OF YOU!” He then saves the only book that didn’t become ash, the Darkhold.

Stephen, on the other hand, accidentally goes to Heaven and returns to Earth without a body. He then, after reassuring Victor, possesses Madame Natasha and, with Sergeant Bucky’s help, go after the Antichrist.

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse are defeated by Nico, Billy and Zelma. Illy fixes Stephen’s body situation. Emma and Steve, on the other hand, are not pleased, but they can’t make a point about Vishanti’s ineffable plan. Mephisto/Belasco then appear, which makes Doom loses all hope. “We’re fucked!” he utters. Stephen is not convinced and forces Victor to act, or he’ll never talk to him again. Victor curses and stops time itself so they can come up with a plan. They show their true form (their wings are huge and beautiful) and hold Illyana’s hands. When the devil comes for her, the girl shouts that they’re not her dad. She keeps yelling until it becomes true. Her dads, after all, are Erik and Charles.

Heaven and Hell then want their revenge on Stephen and Victor, but they swap  bodies. Victor laughst at Steve, T’Challa and Tony’s faces when they try to burn him, while Stephen is having so much fun in the bathtub filled with holy water, courtesy of Namor

When all is over, they bodyswap back and have a very pleasant date at the Ritz.

“I like to think that none of this would have worked out if you weren’t, at heart, just a little bit of a good person.”

“And if you weren’t, deep down, just enough of a fool to be worth knowing.”

“To the world.”

---

I might be forgetting something but!!! BUT!!! THIS!!

[sleepymccoy]

A memory came back to Aziraphale, one that perhaps should have been miserable but could no longer be. They'd talked and fought again and made up and time had passed and now Crowley leant against his side quietly and the memory couldn't be anything but good because this was the ending. 

Alpha Centauri wouldn't have worked. They'd've maybe bought themselves a few years while the war raged, but then the victorious angels would have found them and they wouldn't've had the prophets words to guide them and that would have been that. So Aziraphale generously, and silently, congratulated himself on being right yet again. 

Crowley shifted, he was never still, not even in his sleep. Not that he was asleep now, no, he was still breathing. The first time Aziraphale had found him asleep, back in BC 178 it had scared the wits out of him, not that he had admitted to it. But now he found an amusement in the dead-adjacent form. Somehow still rolling in discomfort while his lungs didn't breathe and his heart didn't beat. 

Silly, these human forms.

Anyway, Crowley was awake now. They sat on the couch together, Azirpahale staring at a book as he wandered down memory lane, and Crowley shifting his feet into various different shoes. 

A moment occurred to Aziraphale and he huffed a laugh.

"Wha'?" Crowley mumbled.

"You think I'm clever," Aziraphale teased, still doing himself the service of pretending to read. 

"Do not."

"You do, you said so."

Crowley's foot shifted in a heeled boot, a style that reminded Aziraphale of a pair he'd once owned. 

"Never said that," Crowley muttered.

"But you did, dear, you said, 'You're so clever! How can someone as clever as you be so handsome.'"

"Stupid," Crowley corrected.

"Aha!" Aziraphale put the book down with a light bang, a punctuation point to his success. "So you admit you think I'm clever!"

Crowley tilted his head back and met his eyes. "No, I admit I said you're clever, doesn't mean it's true. 'M'a demon. Demons lie."

Aziraphale shifted away from Crowley slightly so his head could land more comfortably in his lap. Crowley shimmied into place, his hair catching on Aziraphale's woven pants and flaring out. 

"I distinctly remember you insisting that you wouldn't lie to me," Aziraphale said.

"I don't know where you're getting this balderdash from."

"Besides," Aziraphale continued, ignoring him, "you think I'm clever, you said as much."

Crowley grumbled wordlessly for a moment, scowling up at him. Then, "Called you stupid in the same breath."

"No, I think you took a breath at that point."

"Didn't."

"Aziraphale, you're so clever," Aziraphale misquoted. "How can someone as handsome as you be so clever." He took an exaggerated breath, which Crowley used as an opportunity to speak.

"Don't remember calling you handsome, doesn't sound like-"

"You may be stupid in some areas," Aziraphale continued to mock, "but your fine arse more than makes up for it."

"And it does!" Crowley agreed. "But I definitely didn't say that. I seem to remember wanting to cry in that moment, I don't think I was flirting."

Aziraphale had begun to pet Crowley's hair, and now he let his fingers fall deep, pressing against Crowley's scalp warmly. "You were asking me to run away with you, go romantically off into the sunset together and live on a planet that rains glass and grows arsenic trees or something ridiculous."

"Wasn't romantic, it was desperate!" Crowley said. There was a moment of quiet as Aziraphale let himself grow distracted by Crowley's hair. 

"And I've never wanted anything romantic with you," Crowley continued. "You disgust me."

Aziraphale laughed and met Crowley's eyes disapprovingly. 

"Fine," Crowley complained. "Maybe, maybe! I'm maybe open to some romance."

"Admit you think I'm clever," Aziraphale suggested magnanimously.

"I will dig this hill and die on it if I have to."

Aziraphale leaned, curling in so his face hovered just above Crowley's. "One digs ditches, not hills. One being the royal one, being you."

Crowley frowned. "Not sure it's royal. Besides, this time I'm digging a big ol' metaphorical hill."

Aziraphale let his lips hover over Crowley's. "Admit you think I'm clever."

"Bastard," Crowley breathed. He could close the distance, they were barely a millimeter apart, but he knew he wouldn't get a kiss. Aziraphale smiled. It was nice to see his intention so quickly understood. 

"Crowley," Aziraphale sighed, "my love, I want to kiss you."

"I'm not stopping you," Crowley breathed. 

There was a whimper in Azirpahale's throat, a small, needy sound that was forming far before its time. But Aziraphale wanted it now so he hurried it, he felt the want, his desire for Crowley. It filled him and overflowed and he whimpered with it, his lips brushing Crowley's delicately.

Crowley's tight, desperate breath hit his lips. How very intimate. 

"You're clever," Crowley said. "Of course you're clever, you know you're clever."

Aziraphale smiled. "Now," he said gently, not yet kissing his demon. "Say that you think I'm clever."

The second of Crowley's breaths that Aziraphale felt on his lips was less wanton, and more exasperated.

"You're not stupud in the slightest," Crowley said, the edge of want gone from his voice. They stayed close but it was more in love than lust as Crowley's tone strayed into lecturing. "Never have been. And you have a fantastic arse."

"As do you," Aziraphale whispered. 

"I don't lie to you," Crowley insisted. "You're right. And you were right about Alpha Centauri, although I'm not sure about the glass rain. And you're so unbelievably handsome, I've always thought so."

Aziraphale's smile was enormous and full of that lovely sin, pride. "And you think I'm clever," he encouraged.

"I don't just think you're clever, angel," Crowley said quickly. "I know you're clever. You amaze me with your cleverness, it's sexy just how clever you are! You're brain is bigger than any whale I've ever-"

At this point Crowley stopped speaking because Aziraphale decided to show some kindness and not let him paint himself into a new corner with whatever that whale comment was turning into, and so interrupted him with a kiss. A well deserved kiss with lots of clever tongue action.

[hoodieofcampbell]

Barty?.. (Barty Crouch Jr. x reader) Part 1.

A.n. Soooo, I’m bored. Here’s a story for you guys and ,please, don’t judge me. It’s my first story ever :) + English is not my first language. I’m Russian :]

Angst: death of Cedric, sad fluff, flufffff, Barty being soft, very sad(((

Your POV

It was the end of the Triwizard tournament. I, the teacher of Astronomy Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n sat with the other teachers, waiting for the champions to arrive. The first one to arrive was Fleur, second was Krum. After about half an hour I started warring about Harry and Cedric. Me and Harry are close friends even though I’m a teacher. I always get his butt out of trouble.

- Where do you think they are? - I asked professor Moody who sat beside me. Strange guy, but he is really kind to me, so I don’t really care.

- Don’t know. - he blurted out. But then suddenly he looked at me and took something from his pocket. - Here. - he handed me a locket.

-What’s this?- I asked with a raised eyebrow.

- Open it in about 20 minutes and you'll find out. - he said.

- Why not now?

- Because I said so.- he said lowly.

‘Alright, that was scary’

Moody flicked his tongue and looked away. I wanted to say something but was shortly cut off by Harry and Cedric apparating to the place before the maze from which they came from. 

Cedric was lying on the grass while Harry was kneeling before him and shouting while hugging Cedric’d body. I got pale. Cedric was dead.

-Oh, God.- I said, standing up and running to Harry and Cedric. But the first ones to get there were Moody and Dumbledore. Cedric’s father came up too.

I teared up. I couldn’t see him in so much pain. I walked back to the castle. To the library actually. I sat on my usual spot and looked around. 

‘So many memories...’

There were the same books the same shelves the same narrow corridor that me and my best friend Barty used to explore and run around like two loonies we are. Yep, my best friend is none other than Barty Crouch Jr. We were best friends since we were little. Maybe about 3 or 2 years old. His father and mine were companions in the ministry. But I loved Barty, and still do. Barty did too. And I think still does if he is alive. Barty was my first love, first kiss and first and last time if you know what I'm talking about. With these thoughts I zoned out.

Memories

1971

-Come on Barty! Don’t be so slow!

-I’m not slow Y/n, it’s just you are too fast!

Barty and Y/n were running around Hogwarts and laughing. The both of them being eleven and being in the first year. The both of them were having a race to the Great Hall. The freckled boy with light brown hair was trying to keep up with a girl he called his best friend. 

- Y/L/N AND CROUCH JR! 

The pair stopped after hearing their surnames being yelled up. They looked back and saw a very angry looking McGonagall.

-Oh shit.- mumbled Barty while looking at the now even more angry professor and then at Y/n.

-Run!- yelled out the girl while Barty took her hand and the both of them started running for their dear lives.

1975

Barty and Y/n were sitting in the Slytherin Common Room alone.. Well.... Not exactly sitting. Y/n’s head was laying on Barty’s lap while he was sitting and reading aloud. Y/n studied her best friend’s face. Barty noticed that and stopped reading. He raised an eyebrow.

- I there something on my face?- Y/n blushed and looked away. Barty smirked. He turned her face back and leaned in. Their lips met. It was passionate but gentle kiss. Soon the both of them broke away. Y/n sat up.

-W-what was that?

The both of them were blushing. Barty looked in her innocent y/e/c eyes and said:

-Y/n... I-I love you. I’ve loved you since we ever first met. I didn’t understand that before we went to out third year.- he was looking at the girl whose eyes were wide open. Barty’s face was filled with regret. He stood up ad wanted to go away but Y/n grabbed his hand and pulled him on top of her. And whispered in his ear:

- I love you too.

Barty grinned and kissed his now lover. The kiss eventually lead to something more that night.

1977

-Barty, Why did you do this?!- Y/n and Barty were now in the 7th year of school. That was one of their last days at school. The both of them were dating officially for two years and had their first and last argument in the room of Requirements.

-Y/n, I don’t have a choice! If I'm not going to take the Dark Mark my father will always have an apportunity to control me! But if I will, I will run away and you can go with me! 

- No, Barty! That’s not right! I don’t want you to become a D-death Eater!- Y/n was on the verge of tears. Barty groaned. He didn’t want to loose Y/n but he wanted to become a Death Eater and run away. He loved Y/n more than any other person in the whole world but he wanted to be free too.

-God dammit!- He cursed. He looked away from Y/n and said very painful words that hurt the both of them.- Y/n, I will take the Mark and I will run away. Two options: you are running away with me or you are staying. Choose.

Y/n’s face already was in tears. She took a step back and said:

- You can go, but remember. I love you.

-I love you too. I’m sorry.

Barty walked away while trying to hide his own tears.

That night the both of them cried and new that that was a goodbye.

1982

That was the last time Y/n saw him.

She was sitting near Dumbledore in the court. She was really bored. She was invited to the meeting only because she knew Longbottoms family who were tortured and the judge (Barty Crouch Sr.), thought that she will say something that she knew about the whole thing. 

But what she didn’t know that her school lover was watching her. 

The trial began. Y/n barely listened to anything until that moment.

-And by means of the Cruciatus curse torture of the Franklin Longbottom and his wife..

- Give me the name!

- Barty Crouch Junior.

Y/n head turned and she saw the person she loved standing up. Barty glanced at her catching her eyes and then looked back and tried to run but at first was knocked by Moody’s spell and then held by the guards. Barty tried to get away, cursed at them but guards just dragged him to his father who looked at him with mixed emotions. Barty flicked his tongue looking like a maniac and said:

-Hello father!

-You are not the son of mine.- said Barty Crouch Sr. His son looked hurt only for a second, and nobody really noticed. Not including Y/n. 

Barty screamed and tried to break away but couldn’t. He was dragged away but not before Barty screamed:

-Y/N!!!!

End of memories

Y/n POV

I shook my head and grabbed one of the books. But before I opened it I remembered the pocket that Moody gave me.

I pulled it out from my pocket and opened it.

There was a picture. But not a normal one. It was Alpha Centauri. (Reference to the one and only Antony J. Crowley)

Me and Barty always stargazed when we were together and that star was our favorite. We always thought it was extraordinary.

Wait, but how did Moody?...

Oh, no.

Can it be?...

Moody is Barty....

[ingravinoveritas]

About this whole shipping situation. 1. I don't ship real people, nor do I ship DT and MS, but it's quite understandable why so many people ship them. Although, I think people shouldn't take the "lover", "marrying MS" thing seriously. It's just them teasing the fandom for the sake of Good Omens. I even have serious doubts that they're as close as they appeared during the press.

2. Three months ago someone said MS actually tweeted he doesn't want people to ship him with DT. They said it was in a tweet from 2019. I've been searching, but I haven't found it. Do you know know anything about this?

Hello Anon. I’d like to start my response to this by thanking you for voicing your misgivings so respectfully, as I have had several rude and sometimes nasty Anons come at me on this topic, so this is a most welcome change of pace.

To address your first point, I will agree that some things that happened during the GO press tour were probably exaggerated. One example being the eggplant emoji thing on Graham Norton, as well as pretty much any instance of David acting clueless about something sexual because he is nowhere near as innocent or naive as he pretends to be. I’ll even give you that the “Maybe I should’ve married Michael Sheen” comment from David was him teasing the fandom, as he is wont to do, knowing full well what kind of reaction that would elicit from the fans.

But the wild card in all this, the "x” factor...the Welsh fly in the ointment, if you will...is Michael. Michael has certainly had his moments of teasing the fandom, but it’s almost impossible to talk about that without also acknowledging that Michael IS the fandom. We know how much the GO fandom has meant to him, how this community is something he’s honored to be a member of, and how he’s the biggest Ineffable Husbands shipper this side of Alpha Centauri. Yet so much of what Michael has said goes far beyond normal fandom teasing, and certainly beyond him just talking about Aziraphale and Crowley.

One of the wonderful things about Michael is that he has a tendency to let slip his true feelings--for good and for bad. So even when he does tease the fandom, there is some nugget of truth in there that puts it onto a different level. And because he is part of the fandom, it seems like he says these things not just because it’s what the fans want to hear, but because he wants to hear it. When David made the “Maybe I should’ve married Michael Sheen” comment, there was a context--he was asked a question about which co-stars he’s had the most chemistry with, and there was a perfect lead up to that comment based on his answer. But Michael calling David his “lover” had no such context. It wasn’t a fandom audience, and the conversation wasn’t even about Good Omens, so why say that? Then there was Michael describing David’s hips as “slinky” earlier this year, which... I have yet to find the straight man who would notice that, let alone make such a comment. (But more on that in a moment.)

I’m not sure what it is that makes you doubt Michael and David’s relationship is what it comes off so strongly as, but I truly believe their friendship/relationship blossomed over the course of filming GO, and then during the press tour as well. They probably did work out how they were going to approach the repetitive interview questions and the red carpet banter, but it’s not the big, flirty remarks or jokes that have stood out to me most. What convinced me of Michael and David’s closeness were the small moments between them--certain looks and little offhanded comments which occurred both when they were together on the press tour and separately long after, feeding into a chemistry that is palpable in pictures and video alike.

In regard to your second point, I have been following Michael on Twitter since May of last year, and I can’t think of anything that sounds less like him than what that person is claiming he tweeted. In all honesty, having dealt with similar issues in other fandoms, that sounds to me more like what someone says because they are uncomfortable with RPF, not something the celebrity said themselves. And in this instance, the idea is so laughable because that statement runs completely contrary to everything Michael actually HAS said and done, so it makes zero sense for him to tweet that.

To go back to the “slinky hips” remark I mentioned earlier: Why on god’s green and verdant earth would Michael talk about David’s hips being slinky if he DIDN’T want people shipping them together? Why would he call David his lover if he was NOT okay with people thinking that David is his lover?  If he was as opposed to shipping as that alleged tweet suggests, none of the things he’s said about David over the last year--hell, the last six months--would ever have happened.

So, no, I am not aware of any tweet from 2019 of that nature, nor have I found one after searching (I’d be curious to know if the person who told you that has a screenshot, though somehow I doubt it). I also highly doubt Michael gives a shit if people ship him with David, if only because he could’ve erased all doubt ages ago if he actually wanted to...but instead he just keeps encouraging it. Just my $0.02, anyway...

[beatles-lover-g]

In Case You Don’t Live Forever (AziraphalexCrowley) Good Omens Fanfic

Word Count: 1,034

Trigger Warning(s): Suicide/Angst

Summary: After not getting the answer he wanted after confessing his feelings to Aziraphale, Crowley considered something unthinkable

Crowley is sitting at the top of a building. He has a small vile of holy water that he kept after killing that demon before almost Armageddon. Drinking it would be easier he thinks. He thinks to himself, "do I really want to do this?" He smiles and sighs and says out loud in a mumbled voice "Well I have nothing left to live for, Hell wants me dead, Aziraphale hates me." Aziraphale hates me, he thinks, at this moment he cries for the first time all night. The emotionless demon had turned into a mess of sobs, screaming at himself, God, the universe, or who ever else cared to listen. He thinks about all that's happened, meeting Aziraphale at The Garden of Eden, the 6,000 years he has had with him, almost Armageddon. The thinks about his angel, "No," he says, "He's not my angel, not anymore, I don't even think he ever was." He returns to his thoughts and thinks of tonight. He starts remembering every event of tonight like it was happening in front of him.....

Earlier...

I'm going to tell him, Crowley thought to himself, I need to tell him, I love him. I love Aziraphale. He drove to the bookshop as fast as he could, excited and happy. Genuinely happy. When he got to the book shop Aziraphale greeted him with a cheery tone "Oh hello Crowley, would you like to go get some lunch? Something tells me that a table for two just became available at the ritz." Crowley smiled and said "Sure Angel, but erm I need to tell you something, it's kind of a big deal." With a smile Aziraphale replies, "Well out with it dear." The demon laughs nervously and whispers to himself, "well here goes nothing,"  he takes a breath, "Aziraphale, we've known each other for 6,000 years, and you've been my best and only friend for all of that time, and  I love you. I love you Angel, and I want to be with you." Aziraphale looks taken a back and says "Crowley, we can't we couldn't ever. What would our sides think?!!? I'm an angel and you're a demon, I could never be with you." Aziraphale says as a matter of fact. Crowley felt like a knife drenched in holy water had been plunged into his chest. "We don't have a side Aziraphale! We have our side that's it! Besides it's not like you're much of an angel anymore anyways." As soon as those last words leave his lips Crowley feels regret almost instantly. "Angel im sorr-," the demon gets cut off my Aziraphale's voice, "Get out Crowley." There was no emotion in the angles eyes. "I'm sorry," Crowley starts again, the angel doesn't even wait a second before saying, "I SAID LEAVE CROWLEY! NOW." Crowley left the bookshop in tears. He got wasted and went home. In his drunken state he got whatever holy water he managed to keep and went up to the roof.

Now here he was. He's long since gotten sober, he hears Aziraphale's words ringing over and over and over and over again.

Aziraphale on the other hand was searching all over England for Crowley, he didn't mean what he said, he loves Crowley, he loves him, he just couldn't admit it to himself. "I have to find him" he thinks to himself, "and I have to be with him."

Time skip

"It's been hours." Thinks Aziraphale, "where on Earth could he be??!" Then it dawns on him, ever since the almost apocalypse, Crowley has liked going up on the roof of an old abandoned building. "He has to be there" Aziraphale mutters to himself. He imagines all the wonderful moments they would have. He can't help but smile childishly.

Meanwhile Crowley decides that he's going to do it, he craves it. He wants to no longer worry about Aziraphale or how even though all he wants is to make his angel happy he can't do that. He slowly removed the cap of the tall vile, Aziraphale is running up the stairs to get to the roof, he finally gets there and yells out "Crowley I love you!" It's at this moment the demon turns around with look of pain on his face as the holy water he poured above him makes contact with this face. "NOOO!" Aziraphale yells, Crowley's look of pain turns to a light smile, after a split second the only thing that remains of Azirphale's demon is a jacket and sunglasses. The angel refuses to accept what he just saw, "no Crowley no, stop playing, we can go where ever you want," he says in a mess of sobs and screams, "wherever you want love, I'll go with you, you want to go to space where they can't find us??? WHY???!" Aziraphale yells while holding Crowley's glasses and coat like his life depended on it, Aziraphale had never craved death before. He craved it now. He wanted to be gone. To be nothing, because truth be told, he was nothing without Crowley, he is everything that he is because of him. "He's gone." A familiar voice says from behind the Angel. It was a voice he knew belonged to the prince of hell Beelzebub. "I know you want to die." The voice says. Then, hellfire appears. Aziraphale turns around and Beelzebub was no where to be found. The angel closes his eyes, and prays that in some miraculous way, he and Crowley's souls would find a way to break the rules and find each other, and they would be together even if they don't live forever. Perhaps they'd find each other again on Alpha Centauri. Crowley did always want to go there after all.

[alifeincoffeespoons]

a wolfstar good omens au

because i LOVE the art of @maria-tries​ and have had this headcanon living rent-free in my head ever since i saw this

i. 

Sirius is cool. When he walks, it’s with a swagger. He knows the right way to smirk to make strangers blush. He knows how to make his hair fall perfectly around his shoulders and catch the eye of every passerby. He knows how to wear his leather jacket so it fits him perfectly, no matter what he has on underneath. It comes with being a demon, after all.

(This is not entirely true. Most demons don’t pay attention to the way their hair falls or the perfect way to smirk. Sirius is the only demon who actually cares to learn these things. It’s true that every demon is capable of these things; most just don’t particularly want to, especially when they could be torturing idiotic humans instead.)

This makes him particularly good at temptation. Other things Sirius is good at include inventing devices and structures to lead humans onto the path to damnation (his more recent ones include Twitter and inauthentic poke bowl chains), raising tropical birds, and caring for his motorbike, a 1940 Harley-Davidson. 

Things Sirius is apparently not good at include caring for children, given that he’s lost the fucking Antichrist. 

“What do you mean you’ve lost him?” Remus hisses, and wow, this is the angriest Remus has ever looked, which isn’t very angry at all, to be honest, given that angels aren’t actually capable of being angry. To an outsider, he just looks a bit befuddled. 

“You lost him too!”

“Yes, but you were the one who brought him to that hospital.”

“Satanic convent.”

“Is this really the time to be precise?”

“I mean, a lack of precision was what got us here,” and it looks like angels actually are capable of being angry, since Remus’s current blank stare is absolutely terrifying.

“Are you sure?” Remus paces around the grounds of Malfoy Manor, where the birthday-boy-who-is-apparently-not-the-Antichrist is laughing at the hired magician, a pompous narcissist named Gilderoy Lockhart, who’s just failed to pull a bunny rabbit out of his top hat. Sirius makes a mental note to use Lockhart to tempt more people into rage sometime; if this is how horribly arrogant he is at a child’s birthday party, he can’t wait to see the damage he could do on a date. 

(Over the course of Gilderoy Lockhart’s short existence, he’s managed to seal the damnation of thirty individuals already. He would be a very good demon. Gilderoy Lockhart himself, of course, was hell-bound before he even reached his second year of university, by the force of his unfortunate habit of stealing the research of his fellow students. This, coincidentally, was also how he managed to get expelled from university.)

Multiple people would probably end up with black eyes at the end.

“Well, there’s no hellhound—”

“Don’t say that in front of the humans!”

“Oh, come off it, no one’s listening, everyone’s either getting drunk or throwing food at the magician—”

“Still!”

“There’s no dog here, and Bellatrix was just kind enough to inform me that the hellhound has arrived safely at the Antichrist’s home, so I’m pretty damn sure this is the wrong kid!”

“But how could we have lost him?” Remus looks like he’s going to either scream or cry, and neither is particularly appropriate for this occasion, even if Draco Malfoy’s birthday party is shaping up to be an unmitigated disaster even without the Antichrist Problem, given that the guests have begun throwing around chunks of the birthday cake topped with edible gold. 

(Which would have been a bad idea even if Lockhart wasn’t a hopeless magician, given that no eleven-year-old’s palette is nuanced enough to appreciate the delicacies of edible gold. Alternatively, edible gold is never a good idea, as it is simply capitalism at its worst. The second is more likely.)

“I don’t know, but we have, so we better fucking do something about it,” Sirius says. 

ii.

Doing something about it apparently means getting the hell out of Draco Malfoy’s disastrous eleventh birthday party and hunkering down in Remus’s bookstore to do research. Research means, in this case, Remus muttering furiously as he flips through dozens of prophecy books in hopes of finding something useful and Sirius annoying Remus as Remus mutters furiously. It’s very fun, annoying Remus. His angel isn’t very easily flustered, to be honest, which makes the pay-off even more worth it when he becomes flustered, in Sirius’s opinion. 

(Remus’s cheeks go all red and his freckles become even more prominent. If Sirius was the type of demon who went around calling things adorable, he would call Remus adorable. As Sirius is not that kind of demon, thank you very much, he thinks of Remus, secretly, as delectable. Honestly, the two are fairly interchangeable.)

Over the course of his 6,000-year-plus tenure on Earth, he’s also discovered that there are many things that annoy Remus. These include, and are not limited to:

Flipping through one of his books loudly and sighing whenever possible, making sure to say “boring” in an audible tone;

Eating Remus’s chocolate and then leaving the wrappers everywhere for him to find;

Calling Remus “Moony-Moons” in a sickeningly sweet tone (a nickname acquired after an unfortunate incident wherein some superstitious residents of Edinburgh mistook the angel for a werewolf in the 16th century);

Taking the motorbike around the block near Remus’s bookshop, making sure to rev the engine very loudly every lap; 

Humming “God Save The Queen” off-key, just loudly enough for Remus to hear. It’s doubly annoying, because he tips his chair back to creak on every off-beat.

Right now, he’s in the process of repeating the fifth option for the third time when Remus slams the book shut. For a moment, he thinks Remus is going to whisper-yell at him. 

(Hot.)

Or maybe he’s going to kiss him. 

(Even hotter.)

Instead, Remus simply stands up. 

“Right. I think we need to find a book.”

“Remus, you have almost every book written in the past five centuries and then some in this bookshop.” This is helped by the fact that Remus keeps very odd hours, always opening late in the afternoon and closing early in the morning. This isn’t even to mention the week he takes off every month, without fail, which has helped spread the rumor, again, that Remus is a werewolf. Sirius has not mentioned the existence of this rumor to Remus, because he finds it hilarious. If Remus needed to actually make money, he would be exceptionally poor, given that the last time he sold a book was three weeks ago, and it was a two pound guide book of Paris. 

Remus gives him a look. “Unfortunately, I don’t, actually, though that would be very nice. I’m missing Cassandra Trelawney’s Book of Strange and Mystical Prophecies.”

“Remus, all this prophecy bunk is rubbish. It’s just humans trying to scam dumber humans out of their money.” Sirius would know. He’s very good at creating ways for humans to scam dumber humans out of their money. He invented Juicero, after all. 

“It’s not, actually,” Remus says. “Granted, a lot of the prophetic books are, especially those from the 19th century, but Cassandra Trelawney’s is exceptionally accurate.”

“Aren’t you the one always going on about ineffability? How can any books be written if everything is ineffable anyway?”

Remus sighs. His angel is exceptionally good at sighing. Secretly, Sirius likes to think that they’re a sign of affection. 

(Actually, they are. Remus has a specific sigh for Sirius, which can best be translated as “you’re quite annoying, in all honesty, but for some reason, I’ve grown very attached to you and don’t know how I could bear to live without you at this point.”)

“The Plan may be ineffable, but Cassandra Trelawney was a true seer. This is just a shot in the dark, honestly, but if we could get our hands on it, it might help us find out who the Antichrist actually is.”

“And then what do we do?” Sirius asks. “What, we find this Antichrist, who’s probably been influenced by Downstairs already, if he has the hellhound, and what? We talk to him about how this world is actually very nice, so please don’t end it, please? You really think that’s going to work? This is the literal spawn of Satan, Remus. It’s not just another idiotic eleven-year-old. And what, do you think that prophecy book is just going to hold all the answers? That it’ll give a perfect description of the Antichrist and his exact address, and we’ll just find him?” 

“Well, what else can we do?” And there’s that Remus flush. Delectable, indeed.

“Run away with me,” Sirius decides suddenly. Remus gives him an incredulous look.

“To where?” he scoffs. “Sirius, if we can’t find the Antichrist, all of this will be gone.”

And that hurts, it does, because Sirius loves Earth, loves everything about it. He loves the solidity of the ground under his motorbike, loves the wine (he has taste, sue him), loves London especially, all the cafes where he can watch Remus sip tea and fawn over chocolate pastries. But if they find the Antichrist, and everything goes south anyway, because that’s what will probably happen, in any case—

“What if we find him and it’s gone anyway? Remus, if we fuck this up—and given how solidly we managed to fuck up taking care of the right Antichrist—one of us will probably be dead in the next month.” I can’t lose you, he doesn’t say, because he doesn’t know what he would do if Remus doesn’t feel the same way. “Remus, we can go—we can go to fuck, I don’t know, Alpha Centauri. Or anywhere else. You read all those books about exploring the galaxy, well, we could do that.”

Because Remus is far more principled than Sirius, for a moment, he seems to be gazing into space, and then he just sighs. 

(In that moment, Remus thought about running away with Sirius to some distant galaxy, where they could be something besides an angel and a demon, something unnameable and perfect in that unnameability, and it was all well and good for that moment, but then he thought about all the families that would be torn apart, all of the people who hadn’t done anything wrong at all, really, and would be condemned for simply happening to exist at the wrong time, and he knew he couldn’t.)

“We can’t. We just—we need to find him, and we can go from there. Look, has anything terrible happened yet?”

“It could be,” Sirius says sullenly. “And something terrible is always happening.”

“More terrible than usual, I mean. Earthquakes across the world, volcanic eruptions, Martians destroying London—and don’t give me that look, we’ll know if that happens.”

“Not yet,” Sirius has to admit. 

“Well, there you have it. We can save him.”

“Oh, so because he’s not currently destroying the world, he’s suddenly not the Antichrist anymore?”

“I never said that,” Remus replies mildly. “I’m saying that he’s a child, even if he’s the Antichrist, and he can’t be expected to be a soldier in a war he doesn’t even know he signed up for.”

“You and your fucking logic. Where are we even going to find this book of horrible prophecies?”

“I may have an idea,” Remus says.

(This idea, it must be said, is less of a fully-formed idea and more of an inkling. In short, it is not a very good idea.)

will i ever write more of this? who knows. maybe? i just Love the idea of sirius as crowley and remus as aziraphale so very much. 

(harry’s the antichrist, of course. but a good one!)

[wanna-b-poet31]

Gabriel: He Hath Turn'd A Heaven Unto Hell

I felt like clarifying my earlier Meta on Gabriel’s Gaslighting in Good Omens. 

So like, we know that Gabriel is a dick but what makes him worse (and abusive), is how he uses his position of privilege and power over Aziraphale. 

Even though I’ve read some amazing metas that assert Aziraphale would be canonically higher ranked than the archangels, the bureaucracy favors Gabriel. While Aziraphale may have been given troops to command and a garden to protect, Michael refers to Gabriel’s choices when confronting the evidence against Aziraphale for his demonic “boyfriend”, Sandalphon allows Gabriel to direct the “surprise” meeting in the bookshop, and Gabriel appears at the airfield, in a position equal to Beelzebub, Prince of Hell.  So even if it isn’t a God-ordained position of power, he clearly is treated as the authority figure over Heaven. 

His abuse is rooted in the desire to gain and maintain power and control over Aziraphale. And like real talk, Show!Gabriel is sickeningly effective at emotionally abusing Aziraphale, and his most insidious tool is gaslighting.

Broadly, what I mean is that Gabriel is (trying to) reshape Aziraphale’s perception of reality using techniques like: 

pretending not to understand why Aziraphale is so worried about being unable to stop the war (Withholding); 

purposefully making Aziraphale’s feelings/interests feel insignificant (Trivializing); 

Changing topics when Aziraphale starts to question his or Heaven’s motives for the war(Diverting); 

Forgetting or denying events that have previously happened (Denial)

Purposefully questioning the victim’s memory/even despite knowing their account of events to be true (Countering)

Gaslighting IS abuse. Full Stop.

Although it can masquerade as genuine confusion or concern, the National Domestic Violence Hotline reminds us how over time, these abusive patterns of behaviors lead to a victim who “can become confused, anxious, isolated and depressed while losing all sense of what is actually happening. Then, the victim may start relying on the abusive partner more and more to define reality, which creates a very difficult situation to escape”

Affect on Aziraphale

Because? Honestly? Gabriel’s behavior is not nice, or innocent.  

Who here can honestly say that Aziraphale doesn’t constantly second-guess himself? And that he doesn’t have trouble making decisions?

Or ask himself if he’s too sensitive? too soft?

Maybe that he’s confused, or crazy? That he has to apologize for Heaven/Gabriel’s behavior to friends? That he feels like he has to withhold information to avoid making excuses or explaining Heaven/Gabriel’s behavior?

Does anyone think he’s happy despite apparently “good” things happening for angels? That he should feel happier for his circumstances?  Or that he knows something is terribly wrong, but unable to express what it is? To Gabriel? To God? To Crowley? Even To himself? 

We already know he uses lying as a coping mechanism to avoid put-downs!  And When he’s away from Heaven he’s a radically different person. That he’s more confident, more fun-loving, more relaxed when away from his abusers. 

He’s absolutely joyless around Gabriel, 

and been made to feel he can’t do anything right. 

These are all the symptoms of being gaslit (gaslighted?), and it takes a heavy psychological toll on Aziraphale’s mental health.

He is being controlled. 

Through gaslighting, Gabriel can control Aziraphale’s perception of reality and consequently control his actions. 

Gabriel’s Guilting Pleasure

Gabriel cares about humanity about as much as one cares about their obligatory dental appointment. They do it, sure, but through requirement, and clinical distance. He doesn’t choose to love humanity, he chooses to manage Humanity. He chooses to treat them like cattle: to be kept in a pen [earth], kept for slaughter. He yearns for control, and that control extends to the angels who depend on him for leadership. 

Contrast that with how Aziraphale >and Crowely< who unabashedly choose to love humanity. 

Aziraphale is, at heart, a lover of food. He finds genuine joy and pleasure from eating, and in many ways, it’s an intimate part of who Aziraphale IS. It’s not that Aziraphale is a glutton, but it sparks joy in him.

Crowley clearly takes note of this, and on more than one occasion has gone out of his way to eat with him.  Book!Crowley explicitly shares food with Aziraphale, purposefully ordering desserts that his angel can steal bites.  It’s tender, it’s sweet, and it clearly shows the mutual respect the two share.

When unconstrained by the bounds of Heaven, we can see in the above GIF, just how relaxed Aziraphale can be. He has a soft calm smile, unafraid features. and a body language that to me communicates the feeling of safety.  This is an entity who unabashedly happy, but not just about Sushi.  He has a semblance of freedom here.

But, the scene abruptly changes when a Wild Gabriel appears! 

Aziraphale goes from relaxed, care-free, to tense in 0.01 seconds. Once he finishes *appreciating the sushi* there’s a magical jingling sound, Aziraphale almost instinctually turns left because Crowley is always on his left, and Gabriel’s face greets him in the mirror. 

We have a few precious seconds where we can see Aziraphale’s face journey: relax joy turns to expectant smile:

Look at the crinkled eyes, the flared nostrils, the look of joy. He’s clearly expecting pleasant company to join him.  

In the below gif, we get a slice of the impact of Gabriel’s control.  Once it’s revealed to be Gabriel, not Crowley, who asks to join him, his entire face falls. Notice how the smile is long gone, and his glance at the food is hesitant like he’s doing something wrong by being there.  

Gabriel then asks: “Why do you consume that? You’re an angel” with palatable judgment. Mean, but harmless right?

No. 

Aziraphale instantly starts making excuses, hiding an integral part of who he is, because he is trying to avoid the inevitable ridicule from someone who is supposed to support him and love him unconditionally.  

Gabriel is asking a question that he can infer an answer from: that either Aziraphale deems eating necessary, or he enjoys doing it. He’s feigning forgetfulness and calling Aziraphale’s choices into question. 

Further, by bringing attention to the “you’re an angel” Gabriel is drawing a line in the sand, defining that to be an Angel, at least a good angel, you can’t eat, lest they “desecrate” their holiness.  You can see Aziraphale’s face IMMEDIATELY fall.

We, the audience, can see this is untrue. There’s no reason to believe food is harmful to supernatural entities, and more importantly, it brings so much unbridled JOY to Aziraphale. So why point it out? Why deliberately trivialize our favorite Angel’s feelings like that?

Control.

Trivializing Aziraphale’s passions allow him to impose his own agenda. 

Gaslighting the War

Okay, so Aziraphale lies ALOT, but we know for a fact that he’s told Gabriel his intentions to try stopping the war. Several times. Over the course of 11 years. It should be no surprise to Gabriel that Aziraphale has a singular goal: saving humanity. 

Although Aziraphale conveniently forgets to mention Crowley’s role in helping prevent the war, Gabriel knows the general gist of Aziraphale’s plan to “prevent” the war. Aziraphale has made his intentions excruciatingly clear. 

However, besides blatantly lying to him about Heaven’s position on saving the world, he trivializes the very real concerns Aziraphale poses. It’s not just that he thinks Aziraphale can’t stop the war, it’s that Gabriel deliberately misleads him. Aziraphale up until the end of Episode 4, firmly believes his “side” will sanction the salvation of humanity. And Gabriel specifically strings him along, letting our angel believe that if he successfully climbs his mountain, he would be accepted by Heaven. (He’s not)

Then, in the above GIF, he dismisses Aziraphale’s transparent, clear plea for help.

CONTEXT: This is how Episode 4 opens. Aziraphale has found the Anti-Christ, met and rejected Crowley’s offer to fly off to Alpha Centauri at the Bandstand, told the love of his life his best friend that he doesn’t even like him and is in full out freak mode. Then, apropos of nothing “runs” into Gabriel and is in dire need of support to stop the end of the world. He NEEDS a lifeline, now that he thinks Crowley is fleeing Earth, never to see him again.

He firmly asserts that humanity is worth saving and that they COULD do it, (they’re Heavenly after all), but Gabriel does not give a single flying fuck about Aziraphale’s feelings.

Instead of answering Aziraphale’s prayers, Gabriel reinforces his own interests (see: the never-ending war) and changes the conversation to focus Aziraphale’s “gut”. The glance in the below GIF is unnervingly condescending.

Look at how “disappointed” Gabriel appears glancing up to meet Aziraphale’s eyes before pointedly looking to Aziraphale’s belly. It is if, with his eyes, Gabriel is insinuating Aziraphale’s appearance is a personal failing and a somehow more important problem than stopping the end of the world.

The pivot from Aziraphale plea “we need to stop the end of the world” to “you’ need to lose the gut” is classic “Diverting” from the situation. It deflects from his own manipulative behavior and leaves Aziraphale to constantly second-guess himself. It puts the power squarely in Gabriel’s hands because the topic is no longer rooted in Aziraphale’s valid concerns or feelings.

Gabriel leaves the scene, with a visibly distraught Aziraphale and, we hear Azirgaphale say he’s soft, in a hopeless, joyless voice that’s full of self-doubt.  It’s a heartbreaking moment because of how powerless Gabriel has made him feel. 

He has no support system.

However, Gabriel’s gaslighting comes to a head once Aziraphale is pushed passed his breaking point.

Aziraphale Want(s) To Break Free

Gabriel doesn’t encounter Aziraphale again until after the armageddon has been thoroughly avoided (read: Aziraphale’s concerns have been validated, he’s taken steps to address his issues, and he’s reformed relationships with people his abuser pushed him to second-guess).

When Gabriel reappears, he has every reason to believe that his gaslighting will work to “control” Aziraphale. Because, while he may now be aware of Aziraphale’s friendship with Crowley, abusers will do anything to get the desired power dynamic (with them controlling all of it, and the victim none), and why abandon his most effective tool?

So he tells Aziraphale to shut up, presuming he can still control Aziraphale. That Aziraphale’s inclusion is not just unneeded, but unwanted. 

Just one thing though, Aziraphale defies his abuser. 

It’s HIS turn to start questioning Gabriel’s grasp of reality. To buck against not just the system, but the authority figure who has constantly been belittling and gaslighting him. 

Why? What changes?

Crowley.

Crowley absolutely does not gaslight Aziraphale. Instead, he seeks to understand and validate his Angel’s concerns. Sure, occasionally they’ll fight, or push each other’s buttons, but Crowley never tries to manipulate of control Aziraphale. He remembers and encourages Aziraphale’s passions, actively seeks to participate in joint interests, and the sole act of saving Aziraphale’s books because he knows just how damn important those books are to his angel.

He’ll even go as far as to prioritize Aziraphale’s needs/comfort above his own.  Is Aziraphale chained in a prison during the Reign of Terror? Sure, let’s just appear to rescue him. Aziraphale is getting double-crossed by Nazi bastards? Let’s just put ourselves in danger and walk on the consecrated ground and be to rescue him and his books.

It would be a bit of an understatement to say that Crowley cares about Aziraphale and wants to promote his wellbeing.

At the Airfield, Gabriel has never interacted with Aziraphale with Crowley around (deleted scenes notwithstanding) and able to support him. But Crowley isn’t just there, he steps up, beside Adam, besides Aziraphale and affirms Aziraphale’s sense of reality. No, he’s not crazy, and his question IS valid. 

The simple act of having a support system there definitely boosts Aziraphale’s confidence and gives him the strength to make an actual choice.

Intervene.

He chooses to walk up to Beelzebub and Gabriel and ask, if they are sure of their reality, because, now Aziraphale sure as hell is. He knows where he stands and who he stands with.  

He is no longer under Gabriel’s control.

Never before has Aziraphale had a single honest choice. Sure, he made the choice to enter the “arrangement” with Crowley, to raise the (wrong) anti-christ, to lie to God. But these choices are rooted in self-preservation and self-defense.  Also, he’s not transparent about these choices to Gabriel.

Once Armageddon is averted, and Aziraphale’s chosen to side with Crowley, to jump out of Heaven if need be for humanity, there is very little holding Aziraphale back. And, Aziraphale is finally being lifted up.

Gabriel tries to intimidate Aziraphale into submission, to tell him the questions he’s asking are insignificant, and that his opinion doesn’t matter. But, Aziraphale no longer is blind to the gaslighting, and pushes on. Crowley, in turn, backs him up and they support each other (and Adam) as they defy their respective abusers.

TLDR: Really, Please, Fuck Off Gabriel

Thanks for coming to my Tedtalk