#crowley loves aziraphale's body

[rcreveal]

Shipwrecked with no memory of who we were before Chapter 3

Summary: In this story, Aziraphale and Crowley have woken up on a tropical island with no memory of who they were before. In Chapter 1 they took the names Asclepius(Aziraphale) and Caduceus (Crowley) when they figured out that they had the ability to heal and Crowley could turn into a giant winged serpent. In Chapter 2 they start falling for each other, again, because romance without roadblocks is why I wrote this fic!

In Chapter 3 Asclepius and Caduceus wake up after their joint healing and find that a great deal has changed. More mystery while they are falling fast for each other. Chapter 3 does end with a NSFW non-explicit, very mature, spicy scene only in Ao3. It ends with a kiss here in Tumblr.

Sendarya's Discord Prompt a week 2024 challenge Prompts: 1) Eden 2)fanart (a beautiful, tender, non-explicit, start of a kiss between Aziraphale and Crowley and inspiration for their first kiss here) https://www.tumblr.com/selene-yoshi-chan/190056389466/cobragardens-selene-yoshi-chan-ineffable-mess?source=share

Work text:

Asclepius and Caduceus lay facing each other, foreheads nearly touching, hands clasped, eyes closed within a glow of almost preternatural health.  Their heads rest on something golden while little plants have grown all around them like a green carpet. Black lava beneath Caduceus peeks through the dense growth, creating the look of large black wings while white flowers trail away from Asclepius like bright feathers.    

Waking at almost the same time, Asclepius and Caduceus smile at each other. 

Asclepius tries to blink the glow from his vision, so relieved to see the golden-orange eyes flutter open, see the healthy color on Caduceus’ cheeks and the muscle filled out on his chest again, says, “You look so well! I feel so well.  Did our healing work all the way this time?” 

“Seems like it to me, for both of us,” Caduceus admires the extra flush in Asclepius’ cheeks that was missing before, then looks perplexed, “I smell sheep.  Do you smell sheep?”

“Sheep?” Asclepius replies, “Well, yes, now that you mention it.”

They sit up in the new greensward of tiny flowers and sweet-scented grass suddenly growing all around them, looking at what they were resting on. 

Caduceus points, “Where’d this sheepskin come from?  And what happened to the beach we lay down on?”  They are laying not on white sands but golden wool.

“My goodness! That’s a golden fleece!  Where did that come from?” Asclepius exclaims.

“‘S pretty soft, for gold,” Caduceus pats the fleece, “Aren’t golden fleece thingummies supposed to possess all kinds of health and vitality and share it with all those in the local place, kindof thing?” asks Caduceus speculatively. 

Asclepius replies, “Yes, all that and I’m quite certain we would have noticed if we had one before!” he looks down and around, while Caduceus looks up.

Wheeling flocks of birds, brightly colored and raucous are flying over a dense forest that wasn’t there before.  High, eroded, green cloaked cliffs with the occasional sparkling waterfall now rise out of the water far down the beach.  Dolphins play just off the reef.

“The island got taller,” remarks Caduceus dryly, looking further up what may be a dormant volcano, or, possibly not...dormant that is.

“Ah, and the wildlife got more…wild.” Asclepius states, standing now to look around.

Several turkey-sized gray birds waddle into the undergrowth, Caduceus points at them, "Those are extinct,” he states flatly.

Asclepius watches as the last dodo steps behind a fern, “Not those ones, apparently,” Caduceus huffs, “But yes, they were too delicious for their own good, as I recall.”

They continue to study their new surroundings, noticing the shelter and their supplies are still nearby, unchanged.

In a taking-stock sort of voice, Caduceus inquires, “O-kay… Asclepius, what were you thinking about for our healing, just now?  Just out of curiosity, you know?”

Asclepius looking up the mountain replies,  “I was trying to bring back our natural healthy state, make us strong enough to heal and weather any more storms that might be on the way in future.  What about you?”  Asclepius asks conversationally, as rainbows shimmer between the distant waterfalls.

Caduceus shrugs, “I mean, same as before, really.  I wanted to fight the wound that was hurting you, get rid of it completely.  Destroy that parasite thing on me.  It really hacks me off to see wonderful things maimed and destroyed… again!  Senseless and wasteful, that!  Like destroying a beautiful painting or killing off some incredible species!” his voice is winding up for a lengthy rant.

Asclepius smiles and blushes, “You think I’m wonderful?”

Caduceus stops mid-rant, then turns to Asclepius, and the tight-wound fighter energy, the glib replies, the veneer of confidence all melt away.  Vulnerable and open, Caduceus gently touches Asclepius’ hair, brushes his cheek, places his palm over Asclepius’ heart before stepping back, arms and hands loose at his sides.  A deep loneliness surfaces in Caduceus’ gaze, his shoulders rounding as he says, “Look at you, you’re gorgeous!” a catch in his voice like part of him doesn’t believe that Asclepius could possibly return his feelings.

Asclepius’ prim formality evaporates along with lingering echoes of harsh ‘standards’ of how one should comport oneself that were just protection from some deep-seated but now untethered fears of being judged and persecuted for acknowledging or expressing his feelings.  The constant self-scrutiny burns away like heavy fog as the doors of his heart burst open.  Then his brow furrows, Caduceus doesn’t know, doesn’t realize? Is gazing at him as though the only thing he expects is a blow to fall? 

“Oh! You glorious creature!  You take my breath away!” eyes sparkling with unshed tears, Asclepius shines as Caduceus’ face transforms in unexpected wonder.

Utterly defenseless to one another, they reach out at the same time, drifting forward, eyes closing, their lips meet, an almost chaste brush of lips.  ‘How soft, how incredibly soft ,’ Asclepius thinks, partaking of the gentlest of kisses. ‘ How warm, how welcoming, ’ Caduceus sighs. They share featherlight kisses over and over again.   Holding each other delicately, tenderly as unexpected tears pour out like gentle rain.   Having such deep wells of emotion open up without context disorients them.  They cling to one another as their only stable anchor in this ever changing landscape, somehow recognizing that this has been the case for most of their existence.  Kissing away each other’s loneliness as haunting wisps of half-remembered pain surface before melting away, they tremble and shake. Finally, they stand in each other’s arms, just resting against one another, feeling a security that wasn’t there before. 

Slowly becoming aware of the sea breeze, the sound of waves and the almost tangible growth of the island around them, Caduceus sighs into Asclepius' hair, “That felt like we’d been holding our feelings back for a long, long time.”

“Oh, yes, for ages and ages,” Asclepius replies, resting his head in the curve of Caduceus' shoulder,  hand on his own his chest, “I feel so much better now, but so…tender! And you, dear, dear Caduceus?” moving his palm over to Caduceus' chest.

“You have my happiness and my heart in your hands, Asclepius.  I love you,” Caduceus says simply as they stand together.

“I love you, too, Caduceus.” Asclepius says, looking into Caduceus’ eyes and then resting their foreheads together gently.

***

After awhile, Caduceus says reluctantly, “I would rather stay here holding you, but I think we should probably figure out if we’re still on the same island,”

 Asclepius smiles at him, indicates the island, “Indeed. Well, the mountain and those cliffs are in the same place as ours were, just significantly bigger .  Do you think we did this?”

Caduceus looks surprised. “Us? Did we grow the island and all these creatures?  That’s rather a leap from collapsing on each other with our healing attempts, don’t you think?”

Asclepius tilts his head, and asks candidly, “Did you keep your promise?”

Caduceus looks confused, “What? Me? Yeah!  I was only ‘moderately trying’ to heal us.  Everything just fizzed up and kept rolling out from my first try.” 

Asclepius looks thoughtful, “Mmm, yes.  I was only giving it a moderate effort.  I felt it rather run away from me like a horse with the bit between its teeth, so to speak.  This is awfully…exuberant.”

Caduceus suggests, “We could test that theory, you know.”

“The island building? How?” asks Asclepius, puzzled.

“We can both make light.  We could do that separately and then together.  See what the difference is,” suggests Caduceus and putting word to action says, “Let there be light!” producing the same friendly bright orb.

“Oh, I see!  And however much the light is increased when we do it together, that’s how much our working together boosts the uh, ‘power’ so to speak? Light please,” Asclepius produces his own little orb, “That felt the same as last night!”

“Right and now together!” Caduceus says, then hesitates before grabbing Asclepius’ hand again, looks up at the, ri-ight, that’s an active volcano, “Maybe we should try producing an amount of light that’s easy to figure out how much more power we make together,” Caduceus suggests.

“Oh, good idea…What’s the least amount of light it’s possible for us to measure, do you think?” Asclepius asks politely.

“One photon.  Like this,” Caduceus demonstrates.

“Wonderful! Here’s mine,” Asclepius makes his one photon light (human observers would not have detected anything).

Molten lava flow glows off the back of the island.  Caduceus says thoughtfully, “And I can make that little light, say, a kilometer off the island.  For a second?” and demonstrates this, too.

“Lovely! “ Asclepius gives Caduceus a mildly quizzical look, “We’re just being overly circumspect and making it easy on ourselves to measure, correct?  Only, I have this little niggle…”

“Ye-ah.  I see your point.  Better make it five kilometers,” Caduceus holds out his hand and grins at Asclepius, “Can’t be too cautious, right?”

***

“I like your hair like this,” remarks Asclepius, lightly, looking at the lightened red-orange highlights in Caduceus’ hair and beard.

“You say that because sitting on the golden fleece healed our sunburn immediately,”  Caduceus says dryly. 

“Mmm, yes, but at least we know,” replies Asclepius.

“Know what!? That even you won’t sunburn if you lay out on the golden fleece? Oh, and us making one photon each of light together made a flash like a fission reaction go off!!!”  Caduceus chokes a bit on his frayed calm..

“Know that we did restore the island and all these creatures when we worked together,” Asclepius explains patiently, leaning over and nudging Caduceus’ shoulder.

Caduceus grimaces, “Handy for getting out of a bind.  But, we need some serious practice if we don’t want to overshoot so much in future.”

Caduceus claps his hands against his thighs, standing up off the fleece, offers Asclepius a hand up, “Come on, let's check if we created any rampaging herds of swine or prehistoric beasts that will tread through our camp whilst we sleep.  Want to see if I can fly us both around the island?” 

Asclepius stands, as well, “Oh, can you!? I'd love to be able to fly.”  

Transforming into a winged serpent, Caduceus gently encircles Asclepius.  His great dark wings swirling the golden motes that still sparkle in the air, easily carry them both aloft.  “You’re light as a feather, Asclepius!” cries Caduceus as they rise above the treetops.

“This is marvelous!” Asclepius calls back over the wingbeats.  The great snake’s skin is warm in the sunlight, his scales smooth and polished like obsidian, red jasper, and amber. The strong coils adjust in their flight so Asclepius has no fear of falling. Together, they fly up the shoulders of the volcano, lush and verdant on their side over the lagoon, and rugged and austere with blown out pumice and smooth lava flows on the other side.  Bright lava is flowing into the sea, building the island even more while offshore steam rises from an underwater seamount. On the other end of the island, the high cliffs are from a dormant caldera with a broad breach in the rim in which a beautiful valley lies protected on three sides.  Streams sparkle within it.  Off shore on their side, the lagoon and surrounding reef is larger, brighter.  

“It looks like we made the island younger and more diverse!” calls Asclepius.  

Cadeus points his head at the protected valley, “That and the stronger reef would make weathering a big storm safer.  We’d be out of luck if the volcano exploded, but right now it just seems to be busy building more island.”

“Can you see any more islands or ships?” asks Asclepius.

But even from this height, as far as they can see, they are alone, no ships or islands on the horizon.  Nothing flies in the air but seabirds and land birds, and Caduceus, of course.

While scanning the seas, they see a new pod of dolphins enter the lagoon with several showing signs of injury.  “Those newcomers look hurt! Shall we see if we can help them out?” Asclepius points.  

“I’ll land on the little spit of sand on the reef there.  We can enter the water human shaped,” replies Caduceus heading over toward the dolphins.  He touches down and returns to human form.  It’s an odd but not unpleasant sensation, as Asclepius feels the embrace change from strong coils to strong arms. Turning, he kisses Caduceus’ snake tattoo, sending a shiver down Caduceus’ form and whispering, “You are remarkable,” before turning to the dolphins.  Some of the pod has been watching the strange arrival, and further developments.  From the little spit of sand on the reef, Asclepius and Caduceus dive in and swim over to the sea mammals who are supporting their most grievously injured member.  

“I say! Can we be of assistance? Caduceus and myself, Asclepius, have some healing skills,” calls Asclepius in fluent dolphin.

Caduceus in human mode treads water next to him as he feels the pod look them over with sonar.

“Humans don’t usually speak dolphin, but then, you aren’t humans exactly, are you?” a mature female calls back.  “ If you can help, we’d appreciate it.  Stanley* can’t go on much longer, even in this lagoon.”

Stanley is easy to identify, with his podmates helping him keep his blowhole above water and with an all too familiar wound in his side.

“We should just do this one together.  We already know how bloody difficult it’ll be, otherwise,” suggests Caduceus.  

“But just a teeny, tiny joint healing,” Asclepius warns. 

“ We can heal every sick or injured dolphin in your group.  We just need to all be touching at the time,” calls Caduceus.  The female leader and a grizzled old fellow, the least injured, ferry them over to Stanley when she offers, “We’ll keep you above water.  You probably can’t heal and try to swim at the same time."  

Grasping hands over the backs of their supporting dolphins, Ascelpius and Caduceus touch Stanley and through him, every dolphin in the pod.  All are weary or injured in some way, but Stanley is close to death.  

“ On the count of three.  One, two, three!” This time their healing seems to stay within the pod.

Several male dolphins excitedly caress the healed Stanley* all speaking so quickly that neither Asclepius nor Caduceus can understand them.

(*Of course “Stanley” is just a human version of his name, as Stanley’s name was a series of sounds that humans are incapable of making nor do we have any way of writing them down.  Stanley just thought “Stanley” sounded cool.)

 “ Our thanks, Healers,” says the female leader.

“You're ever so welcome!  We're just delighted to be able to help!” Asclepius replies.

Caduceus asks, “ How were you hurt?  Even humans generally revere your kind,” anger sparkling in his words.

“ We do not know.  We remember a terrible storm, then we found ourselves in calm seas.  We sought this refuge to heal our wounded.  What say you?” replies the female leader.

“ Same as you.  Storm, injury, memory gaps.  Stay as long as you like.  Seems like we’ve got plenty of fish to go around,” offers Caduceus.

Asclepius gushes, “ Oh please stay!  I didn’t know I could talk to you before today!” The female tenderly brushes her pectoral fin against Asclepius. “ We shall be friends, then. And friends don’t let friends bleed on the reef and attract sharks, so we’re taking you to shore.  So say I, Shayla*, leader of this pod.”

( *When told that her chosen human name evokes a warrior queen, Shayla replies, ‘ Of course ’)

Waving at the dolphins, they stand shoulder to shoulder, then their hands find one another and they look out at the lagoon, fingers entwined, gently twisting and touching. Smiling at each other again, they walk up the beach to their shelter.  Looking hopefully into the pot, Asclepius’ stomach growls.   But they ate everything last night.  

“Look!” Asclepius spies a new mango tree with ripe fruit and makes directly for it, hungry and thirsty from their busy morning.  Caduceus grabs a basin and a knife and follows after.  The tree is covered in luscious smelling fruits from hard green to softly blushing red over rich orange-yellows. 

Asclepius has already started picking ripe fruits and looks up happily when Caduceus offers the basin.  Filling it with mangos, they take it with them over to the stream to splash their faces and drink the cool, clear water.

Asclepius prepares a mango, cutting out the large oval seed and cross-hatching the remaining halves.  Folding the skin inside out pops chunks of mango into a sudden bouquet of edible bites. It looks like a magic trick.

“ Voilà ,” Asclepius hands a mango half over to Caduceus, who takes a bite of the exquisite fruit.  The rich scent and flavor burst in his mouth but the juices surprise him, spilling over his lips.  He finds himself slurping up the mango pieces off the skin, so as not to miss a drop, not quite realizing all the happy noises he’s making, so intent is he on getting every last piece.

“Aaaa, that was good! How was yours?”  Looking up, Caduceus sees Asclepius hasn’t started his mango, but sits staring at him a little flushed, even in the shade.

“Are you alright?  If you don’t want your mango, I’ll have yours. They’re delicious! Only the juice gets all over, ya know?” Caduceus is licking his fingers now.

Still gazing at Caduceus, Asclepius brings the mango to his mouth. His first bite closes his eyes ecstatically as the juices run into his beard. Slurping the next piece, and the next, he moans at the delightful flavors.  By the time Asclepius finishes his half of the mango, Caduceus has figured out what had been troubling his love before, because he thinks he has the same affliction.  Bodies, who knew?

Asclepius opens his eyes, flustered to see Caduceus staring back at him, “You were right, that was a really excellent mango!  Would you fancy another one?” he turns to select another mango as good as that first one, not quite sure what to do with his strange new feelings.

When Asclepius turns back, hands empty, Caduceus captures his face and kisses him fiercely.  Asclepius tastes like the exquisite mango with a wild undertone.

Asclepius wraps his arms around Caduceus’ back, slips his tongue past Caduceus’ lips eliciting a moan which tastes sweet in Asclepius' mouth, resonates in his chest and reverberates further down....

The rest of the chapter is too spicy for Tumblr, but can be found on Ao3

[yourangle-yuordevil]

First time they make an effort (because going to the bathhouses Barbie style™ would have raised more questions than necessary...)

[dingledraw]

Try and shame Aziraphale about their body or their enjoyment of food and Crowley will eat you (◡‿◡✿)

[u3pxx]

symmetrical tool headshots of the good omens and bad omens sillies 🤍🖤 one where they're normal and one where they're also normal nothing to see here forces of heaven and hell who want to put them on trial ;^PP

and also, bonus swap crow aziraphale and fem swap zira and crowley based on this drawing of mine!

[nau-the-duke]

FIRST AZIRACROW POST, HELL YEAH. Let's pretend it's still Valentine's Day, thank you

This was supposedly just a coloured traditional sketch, but things got out of hand. I need to study Aziraphale 'cause he doesn't have the Sheen-ish vibe I'd like

Close-up's only because I love eyes

[ineffableteeth]

Something I love about this scene is Aziraphales spirit went directly to Crowley

He didn’t know where he was going, but he knew where he wanted to be

With Crowley

[ineffableaddiction]

I must say, this scene always makes me happy.

(And am I the only one the thinks Crowley sounds like a duck when he laughs here?)

I love how Aziraphale is looking at Crowley too. I just adore everything about this.

[ladykiller-yt]

BODY APPRECIATION

C:"Aziraphale?"

A:"Yes, dear?"

C:"I'm a little embarrassed to ask you but..."

A:"No worries, just ask."

C:"Okay um...would it bother you if I took off the top of my swimsuit? More than anything to get a more even tan..."

A:"Love, relax, it's your body, you can do whatever you want."

C:"Are you sure it doesn't bother you?"

A:"Absolutely not. You know I would never be ashamed of you."

C:"Okay."

Crowley took off her bra, exposing her white chest to the sun. She didn't have large breasts but to Aziraphale they were perfect in every way even if, sometimes Crowley was ashamed of them.

A:"You're really cute."

Crowley smiled putting on his sunglasses and going back to sunbathing.

A few hours later...

C:"Ouch ouch...maybe I overdid it."

A:"You say? I told you not to stay in the sun too much."

C:"My chest burns a lot and I feel my nipples are on fire."

A:"Looks like someone is going to get a nice aloe vera massage this evening."

Aziraphale winked and Crowley looked down, blushing.

Later, at home...

C:"Well, if you don't count the sunburn today, it's been a really nice day."

A:"Very, every day I spend with you is beautiful."

C:"Well, if your offer still stands, I'd gladly take that aloe vera massage."

A:"First drawer of the nightstand."

Crowley pulled out the tube of cream and handed it to Aziraphale. He took a small amount with his fingers, placing it on Crowley's back first, and at the cold contact, Crowley had small shivers all over his back.

A:''Do you like it?''

C:''Very much.''

A:''Then I imagine you'll like this too.''

Aziraphale pressed Crowley's back against his chest, but not before removing his still-damp bra.

C:''Bold. I like it."

Aziraphale smiled kissing his cheek then put a generous amount of cream on Crowley's chest starting to massage gently. The redhead closed his eyes and bit his lips enjoying the pleasure and relief he was receiving and for a moment he let out a small moan.

A:"If I'm not mistaken you said that your nipples were on fire too."

C:"Y-Yes."

A:"Maybe I could.."

C:"Do it, please..."

Aziraphale massaged the nipples with equal delicacy feeling them become turgid with each of his touches. It was a very fresh and pleasant torture.

A:"You have such beautiful and inviting breasts Crowley. I don't want you to be ashamed of them. Ever. Do you understand?"

C:"Yes angel. I love you."

A:"I love you too, little devil."

[humbledragon669]

S1E6 – The Very Last Day of the Rest of Their Lives P4 - from the departure of Shadwell and Madame Tracy

There are just under 10 minutes of this episode left at this point, so I’m hoping I can get this season pretty much wrapped up in this write up (not counting the write up of the opening credits, or the couple of bits I’m intending on doing around the book. Oh, or the work I’m intending on doing around the deleted scenes in the Script Book. Or on identifying differences between the Script Book and the end result. So y’know, so close to getting season 1 all wrapped up…). If I forget by the time I get to the end of it, I’ll just say thank you for sticking with me – I hadn’t really intended for any of these write-ups to be as comprehensive (waffling) as they are, but here I am, 64K words later, not even finished the first season. So, yeah, thanks and other such affectionate gratitudes.

There’s something to be said about Gabriel’s idea of what exactly the “greater good” is. He still seems to think that the “greater good” is little more than winning the argument against the legions of Hell, which seems quite ridiculous: imagine holding the outcome of an argument in higher regard than the consequences that the event of said argument would have. But then I suppose that’s largely what war is – two parties adamant that they’re right, trying to force the other to concede. We as the audience are likely to see the preposterousness of Gabriel’s stance in this particular instance because the consequences include the obliteration of the entire human race and the planet that they reside on. Still, the principal is the same, and ultimately I feel like world peace is entirely possible, in both the show and in real life, if people simply respected the right to an alternative point of view.

We also see the recurrence of a running theme in this scene – the idea that “what” you are defines your nature by default.

Don’t talk to me about the greater good, sunshine. I’m the Archangel Fucking Gabriel.

This statement is something akin to stating that all hedgehogs must, by default, be irritable (or… prickly… *tumbleweed* I’ll get my coat), and in fact we have come to understand that this ingrained attitude as to what constitutes a “good” or “bad” could actually, in and of itself, be construed as a “bad” quality to have, and that being capable of seeing nuance is an inherently “good” quality to have. The irony of that statement is almost philosophical, isn’t it? Still, we get to hear John Hamm use the F word, possibly proving that Aziraphale’s reluctance to use it isn’t necessarily because he’s an angel (which just hammers all of that point home even further).

Let’s take a quick look at a couple of things we see from Crowley (as Aziraphale) prior to his entering the Hellfire. Firstly, his use of the phrase “for Heaven’s sake”.

It’s a little different from the last time we saw Crowley using the same phrase.

I don’t know whether this much easier delivery of the same phrase is because he’s in Aziraphale’s body (issued to him by Heaven) or if he’s having to exercise a monumental amount of restraint as he says it. It doesn’t look like the latter, but he’s been doing a pretty good job of keeping his own mannerisms under control up to now, so why would this be any different? After all, the Hellfire reacts to the being that inhabits a body rather than to the original source for that body, so you’d think this principle would apply for other matters to.

The second thing I want to take a look at is this glance Crowley (as Aziraphale) takes at his captors before he steps into the Hellfire:

It’s so beautifully knowing. He knows full-well what’s about to happen as he steps in the column of flames: absolutely nothing. He’s checking in to make sure his cover is still intact before he takes his leap of faith.

There’s an interesting difference between the reactions from Heaven and Hell in the aftermath of the punishment being applied. Both parties are, understandably, terrified. Hell’s assessment of the situation is that Crowley has “gone native”, even going so far as to say he isn’t one of them anymore (I don’t really think he was ever truly “one of them” though, was he?). This is an accusation we have heard before, not always so explicitly stated, levelled at both Aziraphale and Crowley by their respective employers. In this instance, we are to take it that they think he has become human, or at least more human than demon. I don’t think the Heavenly hosts would be able to come to the same conclusion – presumably a human would be consumed by Hellfire just like an angel would. It’s my belief that their assumption, based on their accusation that he is a traitor to Heaven and therefore siding with Hell, is that he has somehow converted to a demon, or that he is on the way to becoming one. I find this difference interesting, as it suggests that, whilst Heaven still firmly believe the antithesis of their agenda lies in Hell, Hell in turn believes that the worst thing a being could possibly be is human. Stripping all of the philosophy and theology out of the situation, what’s important is that neither Heaven nor Hell are aware that a body swap scenario was a possibility, and both believe there has been a fundamental change in their accused.

I also find the individual responses of Crowley and Aziraphale (in their respective other half’s body) to the outcome of the punishments to be rather charming.

There’s something really special about knowing that, despite the work they’ve both done to make sure they’re acting as the other one would, they cannot help their true personalities from coming through when they’re enjoying themselves: Aziraphale (as Crowley) playing the situation with his intelligence and resulting wit, and Crowley (as Aziraphale) choosing instead to strike fear into his captors with harmless mischief (rather like we saw him do to the paintballer at Tadfield Manner).

Let’s talk Michael’s reaction to seeing (Aziraphale as) Crowley in the bath. Subtitle capitalisation is taken from the Script Book, rather than being my own emphasis.

I know I’ve seen this discussed in other posts, so I won’t dwell on it too much, I just wanted to acknowledge that firstly there is a definite question mark over the use of phrase here. Is it just an exclamation or is there something more subtextual going on? I vote the latter because… well because I’ve watched the show really. And I don’t think the scripted words are ever used without thought to their meaning, overt or otherwise. Secondly, this isn’t the first time we’ve seen a verbal reaction to Crowley’s presence containing the “L” word. Remember Paris, 1792?

Did I just use this tiny scripting point to so I could revisit that incredibly hot look Aziraphale gives Crowley in the Bastille? 100% I did. Sue me. However, there is an important difference here that the angel also uses the word “good” in his exclamation. I don’t think Aziraphale has ever truly considered Crowley to be anything other than at least a little bit good, so that does make a lot of sense.

Theirs is something of an odd paradox in Anathema burning the second volume of Agnes’s prophecies, isn’t there? Because Agnes, being the incredibly gifted psychic that she clearly was, should have foreseen that the copy given to Anathema after Armageddon is averted would be burned. So why send the box at all? More importantly, is there perhaps another copy that she wrote and kept somewhere else? There is a nice symmetry in Newt helping Anathema to burn the pages though, seeing as his ancestors have a history of burning her actual family members. I’m sure it’s meant to be symbolic that he’s present for the literal burning away of the things that tie Anathema to the past, and I can’t help but feel like his own unpleasant ancestral ties are being erased at the same time.

There is so much tying up of subtextual ends in Adam’s final scene, it’s rather difficult to know where to being. Let’s first address the non-so-subtextual confirmation that, at this point in time at least, he has retained some of his powers.  

We have a few more hints at the idea that people are forgetting what happened the day before, firstly when Wensleydale asks Adam what happened, and again with this line from Adam:

Tomorrow will be alright. They’ll have forgotten by then. They always do.

Then there is, of course, the reference not only to a garden, but of having to leave it, and that his leaving would be the result of a choice he makes to right a wrong. The informed choice that Adam makes here forms the ending of the book, and serves to prove God’s prophecy from the beginning of episode one:

It starts, as it will end, with a garden.

Adam’s choice to leave the garden is, without doubt, a comparison to the departure of Adam and Eve from the original Garden of Eden. The difference here is that they were forced to leave because they chose knowledge and free will, whereas Adam leaves through choice because he already has free will. The parallels between the two situations don’t stop there either – Adam (Young) is next to be seen taking an apple from a tree, which he is forbidden to do (because it’s not his to take. Technically stealing I suppose, but hey, he’s the ex-Antichrist, he’s done worse) after he leaves his own “garden”. He takes it willingly, and of his own accord, rather than having been tempted as Eve was.

We also hear God telling us that Adam has an awareness that “something” was ending. I think it’s likely the “something” being referred to here is the innocence of childhood, particularly as he has now been made all too aware of the potential cruelties of human nature. And lastly, we have a pretty strong statement being made, not only about the idea that knowledge should never be considered as being owned and should always be shared, but also that the cost of the acquisition of knowledge is always worth the sacrifice it took to get it.

He couldn’t see why people made such a fuss about people eating their apples, but life would be a lot less fun if they didn’t. And there never was an apple, in Adam’s opinion, that wasn’t worth the trouble you got into for eating it.

Quite beautiful really. That previous scene being the last we see of any of the characters other than Crowley and Aziraphale, we join the main couple in a park. By now it should be blatantly obvious that something is very different about both of them – their voices, speech, and (most obviously) postures are complete opposites of what we’re used to seeing from them. Crowley sitting bolt upright with his hands clasped in his lap whilst Aziraphale’s slouch is so severe it looks like he poured himself into the bench. What I love about this is that we’re being shown the extent to which both of them have had to fight to hide what comes most naturally to them. What’s even nicer to see is that they drop all hint of pretence now that they’re back in each other’s company again. And just so we can see how perfectly David and Michael are at copying each other, just observe how little movement there is between the before and after body swap reversal in their postures.

They each managed to set themselves up to sit like the other pretty much exactly. Very impressive. And of course, the red collar is back, which Crowley (as Crowley now – thank goodness I don’t have to keep writing those confusing sentences out anymore) actually draws attention to. It does make me wonder if the only purpose of the tartan collar was to have something tangible that could be pointed out after the fact. The change in tone of voice, speech, gait, and behaviours could be argued as objective, but a piece of material that’s a completely different colour? That can’t be argued as being fundamentally different from the norm. And it’s subtle, which I don’t think could have been achieved with something about Aziraphale’s outfit (for instance, changing his bow tie from tartan to red).

I think it’s so telling that it takes the pair of them next to no time at all to settle into their old comfortable ways. Aziraphale for instance, can hardly keep his eyes off Crowley once they’re restored to their normal bodily states. In fact, he’s back to flirting at the first opportunity. Check out this gorgeous little side eye and gooey gaze:

And he’s so desperate to tell Crowley what he did that was so clever. Almost like he would pop if he didn’t tell someone about it… We will of course later come to find out that this little personality trait is apparently one of the only reasons that Aziraphale calls Crowley, so it’s actually quite nice to see that this behaviour isn’t something he limits to interactions that aren’t in person. What his anecdote from Hell does tell us is that they do not have any access to the memories that were made in their own body during the body swap – they apparently go with the essence of the being that inhabited the body at the time the memories were formed.

I do not believe for a second that Crowley’s mention of “leaving the garden” is simply there to wrap up the story line. Both he and Aziraphale will be well aware of the connotations that go along with that statement, having been present when the original residents of the original Garden were forced into the wilderness. And whilst there’s a feeling that the angel and the demon are also wandering into the wilderness, they are doing so under their own free will, which they have actually been exercising for millennia. The difference now is twofold: firstly, they have no intention of returning to the false promise of safety that the garden (aka affiliation with a Heavenly or Hellish authority) proffers them. Secondly, their free will, and their choice to exercise it, is no longer forbidden, and whilst both Heaven and Hell may not approve of their friendship, relationship, or any other consequence of their free will, they no longer have any authority over them. They have in a very real sense of the word, been set free. Leaving the “garden” is really just a metaphorical way of them stretching their wings (no pun intended) before taking full flight into their newly gained freedom.

Ah, wasn’t that all really beautiful? Well, don’t get used to it, Crowley’s about to lower the tone.

Did ya see it? Let me see if I can make it a bit more obvious:

Maybe it’s me and my dirty mind, but that invitation to lunch looks like it comes with a much more personal invitation from Crowley… I mean, even if we disregard that fairly blatant “presentation” of what’s on the menu for Aziraphale, let’s remember that it’s my belief Crowley enjoys watching the angel eat. And yes, I do believe that watching Aziraphale eat is a sexual (or perhaps sensual) experience for him. So him asking the angel to go to lunch with him is far from an innocent invitation in my opinion. That last point is perhaps underlined by Crowley’s use of the word “tempt”, which he would have historically done to lessen or destroy the innocence of others. And Aziraphale has absolutely no hesitation in taking him up on the offer. So absent is his hesitance in fact that it seems to me that his acceptance of Crowley’s temptations is something he is very used to doing. *wink wink, nudge nudge*

It's my view that we would be foolish to think that this lunch at the Ritz is anything other than a date. We know that this is one of the things Aziraphale suggested that they do in that awful car conversation in 1967. We know that they have been there before on at least one occasion. Aziraphale’s choice of venue tells us everything that we need to know about things between the two of them being set to rights. I’m sure Aziraphale knows that his offer comes with un underlying offer of peace between them, and when you see Crowley’s reaction to the offer, I’m pretty sure that he knows it too. He looks impressed, a little surprised, but most of all, happy.

I don’t think I need to go over the song used in the soundtrack here. I know I have written a lot of words about this season, but I think that my running word count would look pretty pathetic if we were to count up all the words written about the choice of “A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square” being played at this particular point in the storyline. So let me simply highlight the particular part of the lyrics that make it the absolutely perfect choice as the closing song for this season:

There was magic abroad in the air There were angels dining at the Ritz And a nightingale sang in Berkeley Square

Right, that’s that addressed. Despite the fact that there are less than 2 minutes left in this episode, there’s still so much to talk about.

Aziraphale’s furtive glance at Crowley before the champagne is poured; the loving gaze he gives him to assure him that his assessment of him being a “good” is meant in love and not in animosity; Crowley’s acceptance of the compliment with his own look of resignation; Crowley’s loving gaze as he awaits the angel’s response to being told he’s a “bastard”; Aziraphale’s acceptance of the return compliment suggesting that it might just be the best thing anyone has ever said to him: all of these things are enough to melt my heart, but they are NOTHING compared to this:

Or perhaps, more precisely, this:

I said Aziraphale couldn’t take his eyes off Crowley, didn’t I? That lingering gaze he rests on his demon’s face after the toast is complete genuinely makes my stomach flip. It’s beyond gorgeous. And it would be horribly remiss of me not to talk about the toast itself. Aziraphale proposes they toast to the World. On a surface layer, this would appear to be in reference to the fact that they have just saved it. But. But. They look each other in the eyes when they’re actually making the toast. Because they are each other’s world. It might have sounded like the toast is in recognition of their part in saving the world, but really, it’s to them. I appreciate that this is probably going over old ground, but I need to get it written down so that the words can stop going around my head.

I do want to do a tiny bit of backtracking to look at the way that they compliment each other on being “good” and “bad”. It does not escape my attention that Aziraphale refers to Crowley as “a good person”. Not simply “good” or a “good demon”. A good person. I think this follows up on the conversation that they had with Adam in the time bubble, that they now think of themselves as closer to humans than to their respective ethereal beings. Not only that, but there are no more arguments between them about being a little bit good, or a little bit bad. I think this probably applies more to Aziraphale than to Crowley, but they’ve come to the full realisation that you don’t have to be all “good” or all “bad”. And with that realisation, comes the knowledge that each of them having their own “good” and “bad” qualities actually make them a better partnership, because they compliment each other so beautifully. They “cancel each other out”, as Crowley so eloquently said. He was only about 1000 years ahead of Aziraphale on that one. But most importantly, it’s the supposed “flaws” in their characters, the bits they’re not supposed to have, that actually interest and attracts them to each other.

As we leave our beloved pair, we see one last act of affection from each of them.

It’s so subtle. Not only does Aziraphale reach for Crowley across the table, he switches the champagne glass to his other hand in order to do it. He places the glass next to his right hand so that the hand closest to Crowley will always be free, presumably in an effort either to flirt with its presence near to something of Crowley’s (mind out of the gutter please, this is the Ritz) or to actually make contact. And Crowley’s returns the gesture with silent attentiveness. It’s so charming to see him just watch Aziraphale babble away, fixing his gaze on the angel’s face. At least that way it won’t be weird when he deliberately stares at him whilst he’s eating…

I have one last thing to say about this episode, and it’s actually about a character that we have been acquainted with from the very beginning of the show, yet observe so little about. It’s God. Sounds like a pretty bold statement about religion in general I know; it’s not meant to be. I’m not about to go off into some sort of religious diatribe about how the voice of God has been guiding the audience through the story blah blah blah (did I mention I’m Pagan?), I merely wanted to point out that God has been narrating this last part of the story of the demon and the angel that are in love. Does she sound disappointed or unapproving at all? She really does not. In fact, it sounds like she’s pleased. And when she talks about the nightingale in the Square, she sounds a little smug, proud almost. It makes me wonder if this was her way of blessing the partnership. And if she’s blessing it, doesn’t that mean it was all part of the Ineffable Plan in the first place? I guess that might come to light in season 3, but for now we’ll just have to wait and see…

You know the drill by now. Questions, comments, discussion: always welcome!

[cocoroseofhamburg]

a resting angel. I imagine him sitting in Crowley's bed, marvelling at the softness (and the smell) of the sheets. This is a sketch, will post the finished piece later.

[crowleysaziraphale2003]

Hey! I have another fic, fresh off AO3. Aziraphale asks Crowley about his trial. CW for a swear word and mention of hellfire.

Bon appetit! 🩷

The Trial That Never Was

It was a nice day. 

Not all of the days had been nice, as of late. But this one was. At least, for a certain angel and a certain demon, it was. Crowley and Aziraphale were enjoying a delightful evening stroll together, hand in hand, back at St James' Park again, following on from their wonderful dinner at the Ritz. 

Aziraphale had been quiet for the past ten minutes, however, and it was beginning to concern Crowley a tad. He squeezed his hand. "Penny for your thoughts, angel?"

Aziraphale turned to him, his expression unreadable. "What was my trial like?" 

Crowley's eyes widened behind his dark sunglasses. "You what?"

"Oh, you heard me, Crowley. What was my trial like? I can imagine they weren't particularly happy with me. Gabriel especially," he chuckled. 

For a second, Crowley considered lying to him. Only it wouldn't be fair, not considering everything they'd been through together. He sighed, and ran his spare hand through his hair. 

"You didn't get a proper trial, 'm afraid," he said, his voice just as soft as it had been the night before, when he'd suggested that Aziraphale stay at his overnight, following his bookshop burning down.

Aziraphale's eyebrows knitted together. "Wh-? Oh, it's not that I mind jokes, really, I don't-" 

Using his free hand again, Crowley removed his sunglasses and tucked them into his pocket. "Oh no, no jokes. I'm serious." 

Beside him, Aziraphale stilled. "But-I don't understand. You got a trial, Crowley. In Hell. The barbaric place full of demons. I don't get it." 

"Think it says a lot about Heaven then, don't you," Crowley muttered. 

Aziraphale's eyes filled with tears. Noticing this, Crowley took his thumb and moved it across Aziraphale's hand in a soothing, circular motion in order to calm him down.

"I just-we're supposed to be the good guys, for Heaven's sake!" Aziraphale pointed out. Crowley winced slightly.

"I know, angel. I know. I'm sorry, and I'm here. I'm right here," Crowley replied. 

Aziraphale still appeared to be distressed, however. "What did they say?" 

"Huh?" 

"What did they say? To you," Aziraphale asked. 

Crowley's jaw jutted out a little. He needed to protect his the angel, just a bit. He couldn't tell him.

"They wanted for you to get into the fire. That was all. Didn't say much," Crowley said, feigning casualty. 

"I see," said Aziraphale, but he still looked disturbed nonetheless. 

Crowley's eyes darted around the park. He noticed a small smattering of people ahead of them and clicked his fingers. They miraculously disappeared. 

"Angel," he said, with a cautious air, "would you like a hug?" 

Aziraphale smiled in that disarming manner of his. "I would love one, dear." 

As Crowley hugged Aziraphale against him, one thought kept running around his head, in circles: I am so bloody glad it was me who stepped into the hellfire, and not him. 

*******************************************************

Thank you guys as ever, for your support! It means a lot to me 💗💗💗

[beastsovrevelation]

My Good Omens fanfictions are kicking off. Or, should I say, Lady Crowley is. In one of the stories, she was supposed to end up with Hastur. No, she decided she wants to be with Michael.

I guess, I'll need to come up with a seperate F!Crowley x Hastur storyline, because I'm not letting go of that ship.

F!Crowley x Michael... I like the sound of that. I really do.

Has happened to all of us, hasn't it? Your superior in the military waltzes in, and seduces the love of your life. Not to mention, that's his pregnant girlfriend, and when he finds out, it's too late.

Whatever, Calla Crowley can still end up an astronomy-obsessed, equestrian pastel goth, if General of the Heavenly Host is her stepmother.

I must say... In one story she's with Satan, in the other she'll be with Michael... Lady Crowley, honey, you keep pulling the Olympians. Good for you.

P.S. - I don't know how accurately to Good Omens I'll portray Michael, since I haven't seen season 2, and it doesn't matter. I have a very particular way I like to see the figure. Honestly, if she isn't the General, and the leader of angels in Good Omens, it's a crime. Because, if she is, why haven't I seen her in armour/uniform in any of the screencaps?.. Either way, her version I intend to paint is amazing.

[luckkythirt33n]

as my brain was rotting at 4am last night I had a thought, I haven't read it anywhere else and if it's already been said I do apologise.

HOWEVER

during the body switch when Aziraphale (as Crowley) asks:

"I don't suppose that anywhere in the nine circles of hell there is such a thing as a rubber duck?"

blatant and obvious reference to Dante's Inferno which again points to our lil book worm being the actual host of our beloved demon, because it's an off handed reference that Crowley wouldn't use as he doesn't read.

now if you'll excuse me, I'll be going to rot my brain some more

[ineffableteeth]

Technically Aziraphale and Crowley had awhile to themselves while being disguised as eachother

They had to’ve been curious

[ilomilodailystuff]

Are we gonna ignore the fact that Aziraphale had undressed Crowley a bit somehow 👀

Not for real but— when he took his appearance (tho he might still saw himself) he technically undressed Crowley before getting his ass in that bathtub filled with holy water. I mean... All I know is Crowley didn't get to do that yet.

Not to mention that Aziraphale didn't necessarily need to take his clothes off. He just wanted to show off and maybe feel what it's like to be half naked as Crowley to fool the demons.

[galacticforces]

@ourcwnside sent:

"I'm going to kill them for doing this to you" { Crowley for Aziraphale bc you're so right he does deserve to be rescued }

Aziraphale was trembling, cold, lightheaded from the pain, clearly in shock. But even in this state, he knew that was a bad idea. "You can't. Crowley- Crowley, you can't." Because if he tried, all of Heaven would simply kill Crowley instead.