#you know how aziraphale left crowley on earth to go be the supreme archangel of heaven

[kits-ships]

told myself that i dont care for any of the goo/d ome/ns theories out there but for some reason my brain just went

[worrynoodle]

I don't believe Aziraphale had a choice. I don't believe Aziraphale felt he had a choice.

He was offered one of the highest positions of power in the universe. Literally. The same universe where he has been afraid since before the beginning of losing what he loves most. Their entire existence something has been hanging over their heads whether it's heaven casting you out, hell torturing or destroying you, you destroying yourself, or the end of the world. They've always been afraid of losing one another.

Then, Michael, after Gabriel and beelzebub have left, decides that she has the power of erasing Aziraphale/Crowley from the book of life. That because she is the duty officer she's next in line for the Supreme Archangel position.

But instead it's offered to Aziraphale.

Now he sees that maybe he can save the world and change the universe so that finally, finally his beloved is safe for real. That he can finally let himself get close, let himself love crowley. That they can finally be together. Safe.

But crowley says no. Crowley doesn't want him to go and doesn't want to go with him and aziraphale doesn't get it because 'we could make a difference' isn't that what you want? He's slipping away from Aziraphale so suddenly and he's trying to hold on trying all his tricks of getting crowley on board and nothing is working and suddenly he's kissing him.

Suddenly the silent, unspoken words are screaming at him and he doesn't know where to go from here. Crowley is all he's ever wanted and it's all out on the table and he wants to stay.

But if he does Micheal might be Supreme Archangel. Or someone worse. Someone who doesn't want to make heaven better. Who won't allow he and crowley to be together. Who might push them back to how they were before. The arrangement, hidden glances, the briefest of touches, closet door shut tight.

No.

He will do this. He will prove it to himself. To heaven. To hell. To humanity and to Crowley that he will literally move heaven and earth to love him out loud.

But he has to let go of Crowley to do that.

[melbatron5000]

The Big Damn Kiss

Buckle up, my fellow Good Omens Ineffable Mystery Puzzlers, Crackpotters, and Assorted Brainrotters, because I learned something HUGE yesterday.

This will be a bit of a long post, because I want to show you exactly how I got where I am. I want you to understand. I want to put all the naysayers to bed (ha! But I'm still gonna try), and settle this once and for all.

I know (almost) exactly what Crowley gave to Aziraphale during the kiss.

DO NOT TAKE ANY OF MY THEORIES TO NEIL! PLEASE!

Okay? Okay. Thanks. Shall we begin?

Ahem.

Firstly, whether you believe me or not, I am 100% certain that Crowley did, indeed, give something to Aziraphale in his mouth during The Kiss. I've covered that in the link previous. Okay? Okay.

I did not know what it was. I've now heard theories that it was a bullet (nope), a ball bearing (nope), hellfire (nope), and no one, NO ONE has suggested what I see. (If you have, hello! Talk to me!)

Here's our first foreshadowing Clue:

And here's our next foreshadowing Clue:

And the next:

And our last Clue:

With me so far? Well, that first GIF is a bit off, I couldn't find one of Crowley actually spitting out the flies. But he does. When Beelzebub first drags him to Hell, he actually goes "Pleaugh!" and spits out four or five flies. Edit: Found it!

Moving right along, we come to Crowley in Heaven with Muriel, looking at the trial. We learn two important things here:

One, Gabriel doesn't have a desk.

Two, Muriel does. Where they keep the records. And it's a bit lonely. Every few hundred years, someone comes and asks for something. Muriel can't access the sensitive ones, you have to be pretty high up. A throne, dominion, or higher. Like, maybe Supreme Archangel?

So if Gabriel doesn't have a desk, whose desk is he at when he's getting ready to leave Heaven? Of course I can't find a damn picture of Gabriel at the desk, but it's Muriel's. Where they keep the RECORDS.

Gabriel puts his memory into the fly, then gets on the elevator to go to Earth.

Now, when Gabriel opens the fly with his memories inside, we find out that it's a container. Bigger on the inside. You can put thing(S) in it. The bit we see of him remembering is shot in two parts, one where he's flying down a red tunnel, one where he's flying down a blue. If you slow this scene down and watch, you can see that he is NOT looking at just his own memories. There is more going on here, more that he was not present for. @embracing-the-ineffable put up a great meta about that here. Go look!

Now I figured Gabriel must have taken something else. Something important. Something useful. Something he meant to give to Aziraphale, except he forgot.

I also figured he must have left whatever it was in the fly when he took his memories out. Crowley must have realized while watching the trial footage that Gabriel also grabbed something else. I don't know when Crowley grabs the fly, but he does. And that is what he gives to Aziraphale in the kiss. Why? Well.

I had no idea what Gabriel took until I started working on the chiastic structure of season 2. I'm not done with that analysis yet, but let me show you one thing that I have found so far:

(The numbers are just to try and help me navigate the story and its events without time stamps)

My note #357 of what happens isn't quite right, but when I saw the only two times Aziraphale says "I forgive you" are towards the beginning of Season 2 and towards the end, I realized I had something.

Rephrase line 357: Crowley's kiss is forgiven IN EXCHANGE FOR RECORDS.

(Not that I think Crowley's kiss needs to be forgiven. It's just what Aziraphale says, and had to say at that moment, because the Metatron was listening in.)

What does Heaven in Good Omens remind us of most of all?

A big corporate entity. And what do powerful people do when they get fired from a big corporate entity? They download all their emails while they're cleaning out their desks. Damning emails. Emails that can be used to black mail or even destroy big corporate entities. Or, ya know, maybe they swipe some sensitive RECORDS?

Oh yes.

Records that Gabriel meant to give to Aziraphale, but he forgot. Records that Crowley realized Gabriel had put in the fly. The fly that Crowley grabbed once Gabriel had his memory out. The fly that he gave to Aziraphale when he kissed him. The fly that no longer held Gabriel's memory, but did still contain those damning records.

Here's Aziraphale reading the records:

Here's Aziraphale being horrified and outraged by what he's reading:

And here's Aziraphale realizing he has got some GOOD DIRT on Heaven. Maybe enough to bring them down:

That's it folks. I have no idea what the records actually say, and maybe we're not meant to know until season 3, but whatever it is, it's GOOD.

That's my story, and by God Herself, I'm sticking to it.

[one-black-coffeee]

a list of Good Omens season 2 things from episodes 1-3 that i haven’t seen mentioned in other posts

how much Aziraphale loves music. the way he sighs when his record is interrupted, how he mopes to the front of the shop because he just wanted to listen to the beautiful human creation

the smile Aziraphale has on his face as Jim/Gabriel says “when you don’t know anything at all, and yet you’re totally certain that everything would be better if you were just near one particular person” because yes! he does know! and Aziraphale is so happy to have that knowledge even if he does almost immediately try to hide it

Aziraphale immediately looking to his left when Crowley walks past him in the coffee shop. Crowley is generally to Aziraphale’s left so, naturally, that’s where he looks as soon as he knows Crowley is approaching. but he’s wrong, isn’t he? Crowley walks to the right.

“Give Me Coffee…” material, human pleasure “Or Give Me Death” immortal, heavenly eternity

“no, I would love you to help me. I am asking you to help me take care of him.” Aziraphale isn’t trying to push Crowley away. not with Jim/Gabriel, not with Heaven. he always wants Crowley with him, helping him. and he tells isn’t pretending otherwise anymore

a fly crawling along the bentley’s windshield even before Crowley gets in the car

the deal Beezlebub gives Crowley is the same as the one the Metatron gives Aziraphale, isn’t it? it’s a choice to go back to Hell/Heaven. the difference is in the way Crowley and Aziraphale think. Crowley sees Beezlebub’s olive branch as a trap, a forfeiture of the contented life he has on earth. the system is too broken to be fixed from a position of power. Aziraphale, though, does see it as an opportunity to fix what’s broken

right after Crowley destroys Job’s goats, cores fly away behind him

Aziraphale loves the romantic aspects of love but doesn’t know how to handle the difficult aspects. Maggie says she’s in love with Nina and Aziraphale smiles. Maggie says Nina has a partner, tells him that the situation is complicated, and he sobers, disappointed

the fact that the walls of Job’s home are the same color as the walls in Aziraphale’s bookshop (aka the color of Crowley’s eyes.) the whole of the Job minisope is to tempt Aziraphale. he tries human food for the first time, he works with Crowley for the first time, he lies to Heaven for the first time! everywhere, Aziraphale is met with temptation

Crowley cares for the innocent and the vulnerable. he humors Jemimah and makes her a blue salamander, he refuses to diminish the importance of the goats. when Aziraphale is worried about being a fallen angel, Crowley’s patient

every time Crowley performs a miracle, he draws his hand from the bottom (Hell) up. Aziraphale, however, draws his hand from top (Heaven) down

Michael, Uriel, and Saraqael (and Gabriel when he’s still the Supreme Archangel) wear a cold white. Muriel and Aziraphale wear a warmer, creamier white. except in the Job minisode. then, all the angels wear the warmer white— before Heaven turns cold and institutionalized. even the lighting of Heaven itself changes

Aziraphale invited Michael, Uriel, and Saraqael into the bookshop. they easily could have walked into the shop before Aziraphale got there, but they didn’t. because Aziraphale really does consider the bookshop partially Crowley’s! for the same reason Shax has to trick Aziraphale to get into the bentley, the angels have to wait for Aziraphale to enter the bookshop

Aziraphale popping up from behind the bentley as Crowley approaches and Crowley immediately offering him a “lift somewhere”

in the opening scene of episode three, the reflection just under Jim/Gabriel is “Give Me Coffee…” Gabriel and Beezlebub do get to choose “coffee.” they get to have their joy together

before Muriel interrupts their conversation, the dialogue between Crowley and Aziraphale in the back of the bookshop is shot from behind and over their shoulders. when Muriel opens the door, the angle shifts to face each of them

Aziraphale is not a good city driver.

the look Crowley gives Aziraphale after he turns Elspeth’s stolen body into bones. Aziraphale is so proud of himself, he even tells Crowley “I did a good things!” but Crowley knows better and he’s waiting for Aziraphale to realize the reality. and then the way Aziraphale hugs the jar with the dead boy’s tumor. he cares so much, he wants so desperately to be good and for the world to be good too

Aziraphale is as proud of his “newspaperman” disguise as Muriel is of their “inspector” disguise. how fond Aziraphale is of Muriel because they remind him of himself. a sweet, kind angel who just wants to do the good thing. an angel who is enamored with the human world. even as he and Muriel have tea together, he look at them so kindly. he knows their hesitancy to try human products but he also knows how thoroughly they would love that cup of tea if they’d just taste it

“it’s a bit different when it’s someone you know, isn’t it?” it’s a bit different when it’s not just some demon, when it’s a demon you know is, deep down and just below the surface, good.

that Aziraphale learns just as much from Crowley as Crowley learns from Aziraphale. episode three is Aziraphale beginning to learn the inequality between the wealthy and the poor. episode three is also Crowley learning balance between “the virtues of poverty” and just setting people up for a good life

Crowley, drunk on laudanum, looking for Aziraphale and not finding him because Aziraphale isn’t to his right like he should be. Aziraphale knows to look for Crowley on his left and Crowley knows to look for Aziraphale on his right

[aziraphales-library]

I know y’all are super busy but I really need season 2 fics. I’m ugly crying rn

You haven't said if you want to feel better or worse, so here are some of the currently most-kudos series two fics...

I Wanna Fade Away with You by kademeow (G)

Aziraphale realizes, after entering the lift with the Metatron, that Heaven doesn’t have what he wants, or needs, at all.

How's the View by Etheostoma (T)

“May I come in?” Crowley blinked. “No,” he declared, and slammed the door in Aziraphale’s face. He slunk away away from his apartment door and snatched the half-full glass of merlot he had left atop one of his plant stands, downing the entire thing in one gulp. “May I come in?” he mimicked, scrunching up his nose and raising his voice. “No you bloody well may not,” he yelled at the door, before dropping the glass to shatter across the unforgiving concrete floor.

I do love nothing in the world so well as you by elf_on_the_shelf (E)

My take on the S2 fix it. I honestly think that Neil will fix it in S3 but that will be a while and I am sad rn. So basically, here goes: Someone criticises Crowley in Heaven and Aziraphale has had just enough of that to be honest so he decides that maybe - maaaaaaaaybe - it would be better for everyone for him just to return to Earth and to his demon. Obviously - Season 2 spoilers - like...all of them.

tales from a bookshop by Rizandace (T)

Post-season-two. Crowley's moping, Aziraphale wants to fix things, and turns out, there's enough blame to go around. ----- “You’re being ridiculous.” Crowley very nearly falls over. Like, actually. He very nearly loses balance for no reason at all and tumbles to the sidewalk next to his car. He’s been playing Aziraphale’s voice in his head for weeks, he’s been trying very hard to drown out the sound of it, in fact, and now suddenly, abruptly— “What are you doing here,” is all he can think to say. He whirls around, and there he is. on Crowley’s right, standing there like he’d never left. Where he belongs, Crowley’s mind helpfully supplies. He wishes he could punch himself in the brain, knock the thoughts right on out of there.

May You Be Forgiven by Haydenn11 (E)

I forgive you. Satan, he was an idiot. How could he think his wasted heart would ever compare to Heaven asking Aziraphale back with open arms, as Supreme Archangel, no less? Crowley never stood a chance. It took every ounce of self-control he possessed not to dash across the street and into the celestial elevator with Azriaphale, principals be damned, or blessed? But, Crowley couldn’t go back. He wouldn’t. He had at least that much self-respect left. He’d never belong in Heaven; he could never be happy there. And neither could Aziraphale, but his stupid, stubborn angel never could reconcile that fact. ___ After the events of episode six of GO2, Crowley must learn to live without Aziraphale and Aziraphale must navigate his new life as Supreme Archangel of Heaven.

But You, My Dear, Are An Ocean by megzseattle (T)

After Aziraphale's defection, Crowley tries to figure out how to live life for himself.

- Mod D

[phoen1xr0se]

Good Omens S2E6 - Aziraphale's perspective

Taken from my fanfic 'Don't Fall Away From Me', on AO3 (link below). Apologies for any broken hearts in advance, but I hope it fixes some too. Most of the dialogue is taken from GOS2E6 but everything else is all me.

Artist credit: @mistysblueboxstuff

Aziraphale

Forty-one days earlier.

"Go on. The day can't get any weirder."

Aziraphale swallowed, turning to exit the bookshop, coffee in hand. The last thing he wanted right now was to leave Crowley's side and the sanctity of their little world - he knew that the significance of what they had just witnessed between Gabriel and Beelzebub would not be lost on the demon, and he desperately wanted to talk about it with him. When Aziraphale had intuitively reached for him, he was sure he had seen Crowley give a small nod, as if to say, "I know, angel."

The thought that he might finally give a voice to what they had been dancing around for years made him feel as though he was in a freefall - Aziraphale took a long swig from the sweet almond coffee to try and ground himself and glanced back at the Metatron.

"Sit, sit, dear boy," said Metatron, gesturing to a small table and chairs.

Aziraphale sat, hands fluttering anxiously. He put them back on the coffee to stop himself and took another sip.

"Now, I shall get right to the point. It seems we are down an Archangel." The Metatron smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Do you have any thoughts on who might be best suited to replace them?"

Aziraphale paused. Why was the Metatron asking him for advice? "Well... Michael?"

"Oh, don't be silly! No, no, no, no, no. There's only one candidate who makes even the slightest bit of sense."

Aziraphale raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"And that's you."

Aziraphale blinked. Had he heard that correctly? "Me?"

"Well, yes. You're a leader, you're honest, you don't just tell people what they want to hear. It's why Gabriel came to you in the first place, I imagine."

Aziraphale's mouth dropped open in astonishment, struggling for words. He had always believed that those qualities had contributed to his exile from Heaven, and yet the Metatron was telling him that these were reasons he should be... promoted? In charge? Surely there was no way that this offer could be genuine.

The Metatron continued, before Aziraphale had a chance to pick that thread apart. "There are huge plans afoot, enormous projects, and I will need you to run them."

Aziraphale paused. In a flash, he remembered what Crowley had said four years previously about The Big One. Us against humanity. Left in the hands of Michael, or Uriel, or any of those bad angels, he could only begin to imagine what would befall Earth. Humanity wouldn't stand a chance. The angels didn't understand anything about what it truly meant to be human... or even what it meant to be good.

"You are just the angel for the job." The Metatron smiled, and in spite of himself, Aziraphale thought that he was probably right about that.

But no... he couldn't leave Earth. His bookshop. Crowley. This peaceful, fragile existence. "But I... I don't want to go back to Heaven. W-where would I get my coffee?"

The Metatron's eyes grew steelier and Aziraphale realised that he understood that this wasn't about coffee. He shifted in his seat, uncomfortably. How much did he know?

"You know..." Metatron phrased the words very carefully, "as Supreme Archangel, you would be able to decide who to work with. I've been looking back over a number of your previous exploits..." Aziraphale swallowed nervously, "and I see that in quite a few of them you formed a de facto partnership with the demon, Crowley."

The name hung in the air between them. Aziraphale glanced away. Apparently he knew quite a lot.

"Now, if you wanted to work with him again, that... might be considered irregular, but it would certainly be within your jurisdiction to restore your friend Crowley to full angelic status."

The impact of the statement took a while to register. Aziraphale blinked. In his mind's eye, he flashed back to the first time he had ever interacted with the angel-that-had-been-Crowley. It was at the creation of the universe, and he recalled with a pang the joy on his face, the sheer exuberance and excitement that had left a lasting impression on the more junior angel. Crowley as an angel had been magical, magnificent to behold. And Aziraphale knew better than anyone that Crowley had never deserved to Fall. Crowley had no memories of his time spent as an angel, but Aziraphale remembered. He remembered it all.

He was so lost in thought that he missed the triumphant glint in the Metatron's eyes.

"I... well, I don't quite know what to say," began Aziraphale, but Metatron held up a finger to halt him.

"It's just an option. One of many powers you will have as Supreme Archangel. A word to the wise, though..." Metatron leaned in conspiratorially. "There has been some talk that this partnership is all simply a part of Hell's... how shall we put it... long game."

Aziraphale was lost. "What do you mean?"

"Well there is a rumour that Hell assigned some specific demons to tempt angels away from Heaven..." Metatron paused, choosing his phrasing with care. "I personally didn't believe it myself until the utter disaster with Gabriel. Quite a shock, I can tell you. I never thought Gabriel would be vulnerable to demonic influences, but I suppose you never can tell..."

Aziraphale inhaled sharply. "I can assure you -" he began, but the Metatron interrupted.

"Oh, my dear boy, I am certain that you would never fall prey to a demon's wiles. You are far too intelligent for that." The Metatron looked Aziraphale coolly in the eyes, but there was a question there. A question Aziraphale didn't want to examine too closely. He looked down at the coffee in his hands, and recalled the night he and Crowley had spent in Job's basement.

Are you... trying to tempt me?

Not at all, angels can't be tempted, can you?

The taste of those ox ribs. The way once he'd tasted it, he'd realised he was so hungry, not just hungry, but ravenous. Starved.

Aziraphale pushed the thought away, but as soon as he pushed it away, another thought barrelled in to take its place. The first time Crowley had convinced him to try wine, promising him that a drop wouldn't hurt. The first gift he had ever been given, a book, his first material Earthly possession, gifted to him by Crowley. The way Crowley had convinced him that there was no point in doing Good if they were always cancelling each other out. The way Aziraphale had done so many small, little, bad things because Crowley had assured him it didn't matter. Each memory was like a gut punch.

But no.

No.

He knew Crowley. Yes, he was a demon, but he wasn't bad. At least, not all bad.

"I believe you are quite wrong," stated Aziraphale boldly, sitting up straight. "The demon Crowley has, over the many years we have spent... I mean, over the time we have known one another, done many kind and Good things. He is better than half the angels I know! Michael, Uriel, Sandalphon, they don't have half his compassion, his honesty, his bravery. I believe God was mistaken in..." Aziraphale's brave defence faltered as Metatron's eyebrows raised. "I mean, I think sometimes people deserve a second chance."

Metatron nodded. "Perhaps it is as you say." He stood, and Aziraphale followed suit.

Aziraphale glanced back at the bookshop. All he wanted now was to get back to Crowley. He knew that talking with him would alleviate these fears. Crowley might not want to go to Heaven, but surely he would see that it was the safest place for them to be? Especially if their fears about The Big One were correct? In spite of everything Crowley felt about Heaven, he was certain that Crowley would see it was the only way they could save the world they had both come to cherish. And perhaps he'd see a glimmer of that happy angel he'd known so long ago... before Aziraphale had put thoughts into his head, thoughts that had ultimately led to...

Aziraphale shook the thoughts away.

"Uh, thank you for this... chat... I really had better get back to the bookshop," Aziraphale said delicately.

"Well, you don't have to answer immediately," said the Metatron, "Take all the time you need."

His expression, however, demanded urgency.

"I... I don't know what to say," Aziraphale faltered. He needed Crowley. He couldn't make this decision without him.

"Well then, go and tell your friend the good news," said the Metatron measuredly. Good news.

Would Crowley see it that way?

Aziraphale very much doubted it. As he crossed the street, he resolved that he was going to hard-sell Heaven to Crowley no matter what. Above everything else, he wanted Crowley to be safe. He wanted humanity to be safe. And the only way that was going to happen is if he had a voice. He exhaled, steeling himself for what he knew was going to be a very difficult pitch.

The bell tinkled as he entered, and he saw Maggie and Nina walking toward the exit. "We're just going," smiled Maggie. "I'm sure you two have a lot to say," Nina added, and they exited.

Aziraphale took another deep breath as his eyes fell on Crowley. Crowley was sat in his usual chair, leaning forward with his dark glasses on, his mouth hanging open as if in surprise. He thought, with a sudden rush of feelings, how accustomed he had become to seeing the demon here, and how comfortable Crowley had made himself here. These days he almost always took his glasses off around the shop, a level of vulnerability Crowley had only recently managed in the last year or so.

Crowley, noticing Aziraphale, suddenly stood, removing his glasses. Aziraphale felt his resolve soften as he looked into the demon's wide yellow eyes with their trademark snakelike slits. Yellow really was the most beautiful colour. He was so busy staring that he didn't even realise Crowley had begun to speak.

"Look, I suppose, um... I've got something to say. I know we ought to be talking about... uh, it's probably best if I start off doing all the talking, you do all the listening, 'cause if I don't start talking now, I won't ever start talking, right? Yes, so -"

Aziraphale barely heard a word of what the demon was saying. This wasn't uncommon when Crowley was around, Aziraphale did have a tendency to get a little distracted - but this time it was because he was desperately trying to think of the right arrangement of words that would help Crowley adjust to what he was about to hear.

"What's that lovely human expression?" interjected Aziraphale, flailing his arms wildly. He was feeling giddy. "Oh yes, hold that thought!" He pasted on a wide grin. Sell it, sell it, he told himself. "You see, I have some incredibly good news to give you!"

Crowley didn't look particularly pleased so far. "Really?"

"I, um... so, uh, um..." Aziraphale's arms were still doing most of the talking for him whilst he frantically tried to explain. "The Metatron, you know, I don't think he's as bad a fellow... Well, I think I might have misjudged him. You see, I... Well, he said, um..." Aziraphale noticed Crowley's expression darken with mistrust. Oops. Go bigger. "He said that Gabriel, obviously hadn't worked out..." Aziraphale laughed nervously, "as Supreme Archangel and Commander of the Heavenly Host, and he asked who I thought should take over in Heaven now that Gabriel was gone. And I said Michael, to which he laughed, and said there was only one candidate who made the slightest bit of sense. Me."

Crowley's face was frozen. It was hard to assess how he was taking this. "And I said, 'me?' And he said that I was a leader, honest, I didn't tell people what they wanted to hear and that they needed me. Of course I was surprised - I mean, obviously - and of course I said I didn't want to go, because... well... but then..." Aziraphale paused and took a step closer to Crowley, his entire face lighting up. "He said that if I was Archangel, I could restore you to be an angel. Full angelic status."

A beat. "He said what?"

"He said I could appoint you to be an angel." Aziraphale couldn't help beaming. Crowley deserved to be restored, deserved it more than anyone, in spite of everything Metatron had said, he knew that Crowley should never have Fallen. "You could come back to Heaven and... and everything. Like the old times. Only even nicer."

Aziraphale's smile lit up the room as Crowley held his gaze. "Right. And you told him just where he could stick it, then?"

Aziraphale's smile faltered. What had gone wrong? "Not at all..."

Crowley shook his head slowly. "Oh, we're better than that, you're better than that, angel! You don't need them, I certainly don't need them!" Crowley began pacing, avoiding Aziraphale's gaze. "Look, they asked me back to Hell, I said no, I'm not rejoining their team, neither should you!" His yellow eyes met Aziraphale's again and they were awash with confusion.

Aziraphale fumbled. "But.. well, obviously you said no to Hell, you're the bad guys." He saw Crowley's face change. Whoops. He should have said THEY are the bad guys. Crowley was anything but bad, and that was precisely the point he was trying to make. "But Heaven... Well, it's the side of Truth, of Light... of Good." And that's why you belong there.

"When Heaven ends life here on Earth, it'll be just as dead as if Hell ended it," growled Crowley.

Aziraphale was flustered now - this hadn't gone how he thought it would, at all.

"Tell me you said no," Crowley begged. Aziraphale looked away, avoiding the way Crowley's body broke a little as he stepped forward into the silence. His voice when it came out was devoid of all his usual venom. It was almost soft, pleading. "Tell me you said no."

"If... I'm in charge, I can make a difference," Aziraphale said. It sounded so lame and contrite given the weight of the conversation, but he really meant it. The angel had endured so much loss that he had been unable to control, so many of God's choices he had been unable to question or challenge. How many times had he had to sit back and endure human tragedies at the hand of God, wrestling with himself to try and believe that it was for the Greater Good but never understanding why. This was his opportunity to finally understand God's will - and perhaps even try to alter it.

Crowley sighed deeply and began pacing again. "Oh... Oh, God." He gulped. "Right, okay. Right. I didn't get a chance to say what I was going to say, I think I'd better say it now. Right. Okay. Yes. So." Crowley sighed, and Aziraphale noticed that the demon was almost imperceptibly shaking.

The energy in the room shifted instantly. Aziraphale instantly knew that whatever Crowley was about to say was going to change things. Permanently.

"We've known each other a long time."

This was it.

"We've been on this planet a long time. I mean, you and me."

He wasn't ready.

"I could always rely on you. You could always rely on me."

How long had he waited to hear these words? Words he was sure would never come. Crowley never spoke like this, not ever. Aziraphale's eyes flicked to the street where he could see the Metatron standing by Muriel and he shifted uneasily.

"We're a team. A group. A group of the two of us."

Aziraphale's blue eyes widened. This was really happening.

"And we've spent our existence pretending that we aren't." Crowley's voice cracked.

Aziraphale's mouth struggled to find words, but no sound came out. Crowley hadn't looked away from him once, but broke their gaze now.

"I mean, the last few years, not really." Crowley looked around the bookshop and Aziraphale knew that they were both thinking of the last four years they had spent together on Earth. No longer having to pretend to be on opposite sides. No longer having to deny their affection for one another. It had still been unspoken, but it had been allowed. They had allowed a life to grow, here.

"And I would like to spend -" Crowley began, but as his eyes met the angel's, he choked on the words. He looked away again, growled, exhaled, then regained his composure, whilst Aziraphale stared at the demon as though he were a freight train coming straight at him. Was Crowley really trying to say what he thought he was trying to say?

"I mean, if Gabriel and Beelzebub can do it, go off together, then we can." Crowley's voice was desperate, pleading. Aziraphale had never seen Crowley like this before.

It scared him.

Crowley was always the strong one, always the brave one, always coming to his rescue. Despite knowing the demon had a softer side, Aziraphale had come to rely on the demon's hard exterior. You always knew where you stood. Except now, he really didn't.

"Just the two of us. We don't need Heaven, we don't need Hell, they're toxic! We need to get away from them, just be an us."

An us.

In all honesty, they had been an us for quite some time now, and they both knew it. It was just one of those things they didn't say. Except all of a sudden Crowley had changed the rules and Aziraphale didn't know what his part was in this new dynamic. He felt lost. All he knew, all he had ever known, and all he had ever tried to do, was the Right Thing.

"You and me, what do you say?" finished Crowley, his eyes wide. Pleading. Hoping.

An eternity seemed to pass as Aziraphale stared into Crowley's open, hopeful face. He reminded him then of the angel he had been. It reminded Aziraphale again of what they had both lost, and what stood to be lost now. And even though Aziraphale had dreamed of this moment many times, in many ways, over many years - and in no version of his imaginings had he ever rejected the demon's affections - he knew that he could never place his own selfish wants over what was right. He wouldn't be able to live with himself.

"Come with me," he implored, stepping closer to Crowley, his blue eyes begging the demon to see reason. "To Heaven. I'll run it, you can be my second in command. We can make a difference."

Crowley looked stunned. "You can't leave this bookshop."

Aziraphale almost laughed. How could Crowley be thinking about the bookshop at a time like this? Humanity was at stake, for crying out loud! If they remained here on Earth and let Heaven and Hell wage their wars, there wouldn't be much of anything left, let alone a bookshop. The existence Crowley wanted wouldn't even be possible.

"Oh Crowley," Aziraphale said softly. "Nothing lasts forever."

Crowley's entire demeanour changed. He wilted, and with horror Aziraphale saw tears glisten in his beautiful yellow eyes. Crowley's face, that had moments ago been so expressive and open, turned to its usual impassive state. "No," said Crowley quietly, blinking and looking away. "No, I don't suppose it does." He put his dark glasses on, and Aziraphale realised that Crowley had read something into his words that he hadn't meant. "Good luck," he said flatly, and walked past Aziraphale to the exit.

Aziraphale felt the world drop out from beneath his feet. "Good luck? Crowley!"

He watched his demon pause, momentarily, then turn around. He knew he had to say something to convince Crowley to stay. He knew trying to convince Crowley it would be a good idea to go to Heaven would be tricky, but he knew that Crowley was at heart a GOOD person. He had to appeal to that.

"Crowley, come back! To Heaven! Work with me!" He saw Crowley's deadpan face and realised, with some shame, that he hadn't truly responded to any of the wonderful things Crowley had tried to say to him. Crowley had dropped his defences and tried to redefine their relationship and Aziraphale found himself unexpectedly unable to reciprocate. The words just wouldn't come. He gulped, now, examining his own feelings.

Did he care for Crowley?

Yes.

Did he love Crowley?

Yes.

Did he want to spend his existence with Crowley?

Yes.

But did he feel deep shame and guilt for loving him, a demon?

Also, yes.

Aziraphale tried. "We can be together!" he clasped his hands together, as if trying to press together what he wanted and what was right. "Angels! Doing good!"

Crowley wouldn't even look at him.

The feeling of the Earth falling away came back to him. He was really about to lose Crowley. "I - I need you!"

Crowley looked at him then. They were both remembering the many times they had protested quite the opposite over the years. Crowley looked unimpressed.

Aziraphale felt his whole body burn with frustration - he was offering Crowley a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity here. Fallen angels never came back to Heaven, not ever. And he knew Crowley deserved to be there. He wanted to undo the mistake he had made all those millennia ago, the guilty truth he had never forgiven himself for. He swallowed back a lump in his throat as he recalled the last moments before Crowley fell, how the angel had sought out Aziraphale's face in the crowds, his eyes wide and wild, hopeful and scared - and how Aziraphale had looked away. This was his chance to put Crowley back where he belonged. "I don't think you understand what I'm offering you."

"I understand," said Crowley flatly. "I think I understand a whole lot better than you do."

And that was the moment Aziraphale knew he'd lost him.

The world fell away, for good. Somehow he stayed standing. "Well... then there's nothing more to say."

Crowley was only two feet away but it felt like miles. And soon the distance would be a lot further.

"Listen," said Crowley, pointing up. "Do you hear that?"

Aziraphale barely heard him over the sound of his own panicked thoughts. "I... I don't hear anything," he said, unable to keep the frustration from his voice.

"That's the point," said Crowley, his words dripping with emotion. "No nightingales."

At the mention of nightingales, something hardened in Aziraphale. More unspoken understandings between them. The song 'A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square' had been playing on the night their life together began, the night they were freed from the confines of pretending they were on opposite sides. Neither of them had ever mentioned it, but Aziraphale knew it was a song that signified their relationship, their partnership, their freedom. No more nightingales meant no more them. Crowley was saying, in his own way, in the cruellest way, that they were over.

He saw something like satisfaction in Crowley's face as he realised the hit had landed. "You idiot," continued Crowley, frustration etched on every line of his face. "We could've been... us."

Aziraphale was the one to turn away now, hiding tears that had betrayed his resolve. Did Crowley think he didn't know what he was giving up? All he had ever wanted... but not at the cost of life on Earth. He couldn't bear to watch his demon leave, to walk away forever, if he looked at him a moment longer he knew he wouldn't be able to go through with it.

He heard footsteps, and closed his eyes, not wanting to see Crowley leaving - but instead felt a rough tug at his lapels, and before he knew it, he felt Crowley's lips on his. The shock reverberated through his entire body and his instinctive reaction was to pull away, no, I can't, I can't he thought desperately... but the warmth of Crowley's lips, the feeling of his body so close, the fact that it had taken six thousand years to finally close the gap between them, it was impossible to resist. It felt so good, to finally be... us. Despite himself, Aziraphale's hands stopped fluttering, and he pulled Crowley closer, giving in to the temptation.

The temptation.

Aziraphale's hands flew off the demon.

Hell assigned some specific demons to tempt angels away from Heaven...

Crowley let go of Aziraphale and Aziraphale gasped, overcome with a torrent of emotions. He hadn't known he'd wanted this until the feel of Crowley's lips pressing into his. It had taken a moment but the craving it had awoken in him raged through his body, a betrayal against all that he tried so hard to be. It felt exactly like that night in Job's basement, all those years ago... He wanted Crowley. His entire being ached to close the space between them again. He wanted so badly to forget all about the Metatron, Heaven, Hell, everything, and just throw himself back into Crowley's arms. But he'd been tempted, hadn't he? The serpent did what he does best, what he does so well, so slyly, what he's done for thousands of years... Aziraphale felt something inside him break, deeply, as he realised that, regardless of whether or not Hell was behind it, he had been tempted, and failed to pass the test yet again.

Aziraphale felt a cold, righteous anger sweep over him.

Crowley was staring at him expectantly. What did he expect? A declaration of love after having completely manipulated the angel's feelings?

I won't let you have the satisfaction of knowing how much you tempted me. How much you hurt me.

"I... I forgive you," Aziraphale said unsteadily, clenching his jaw in resolve. He regretted it the moment he said it.

Crowley sighed, a deep sigh. "Don't bother."

With that, the demon turned and finally left the bookshop.

Crumbling, Aziraphale let the tears come. He lifted his fingers to his lips, allowing himself for just a moment to remember what it felt like. He had never been kissed before, he had always thought it a peculiar human oddity, to press their faces together to show affection - he had not expected it to feel warm, to feel intimate, to feel like they were communicating in ways that could never be put into words. It was... magical.

But then he remembered who he was. Or at least, who he was supposed to be. Not an angel in love with a demon. An angel who did The Right Thing. An angel like that does not get tempted away from doing The Right Thing. If he was going to be Supreme Archangel, he had to be THAT version of himself.

He wiped the kiss away from his lips with vehemence. He would not allow himself to think about it, or Crowley, anymore.

Because if I did, I would run back to you...

As Aziraphale struggled to regain control of his emotions, the bell tinkled, and for a moment, one glorious moment, Aziraphale thought it was Crowley coming back to straighten everything out. Turning, he felt his hope fade as he saw the Metatron striding in. Quickly turning away to wipe the tears that threatened to fall and betray his emotion, he gave himself a quick talking to. This was no time for weakness.

"Well? How did he take it?"

Aziraphale said, truthfully, "Uh... not well." He chuckled nervously. He didn't want the Metatron to interfere with Crowley. He knew he needed to be careful about what he said.

"Ah, well, always did want to go his own way," said the Metatron dismissively.

Aziraphale stole a glance outside the bookshop and saw Crowley standing by the Bentley.

"Always asking damn fool questions, too," said the Metatron. Aziraphale recognised that this comment was a disguised warning to himself - don't ask questions. "Right, ready to start?"

Aziraphale felt his heart lurch. Hadn't the Metatron said he had plenty of time to decide? "I..." He glanced once again at the tall, dark figure standing outside. Crowley was stood completely still, watching Aziraphale from the street. Waiting? "My bookshop!" stammered Aziraphale desperately, trying to think of a way to give himself a little more time.

"Ye-es, well, for now, I've entrusted it to Muriel," said the Metatron matter-of-factly, indicating the young angel who waved exuberantly from the window. "So it should be in good hands."

"But..." Aziraphale stared out at the street. At him.

"Anything you need to take with you?" asked the Metatron.

Him, thought Aziraphale. Just him.

The Metatron's energy was cold, and forceful. Aziraphale could feel it coming off him in waves. He knew, somehow, that he had been backed into a corner. "No... nothing I can think of."

The Metatron made an affirmative noise and made to move towards the door, and it all suddenly hit Aziraphale - if he went with the Metatron now, it would really be over. No more cosy bookshop, no more books. No more sushi, no more sherry. No more music, no more plays. No more nightingales. A flash of what returning to Heaven would actually mean suddenly cut through Aziraphale and he understood, finally, what Crowley had been trying to tell him. There would be no going back.

Overcome, he rushed forward. "I think I -" he burst out, but stopped himself.

For once in your soft, silly life, do the Right Thing, angel! Aziraphale told himself sternly. This is about more than you and... him. He took one last look at Crowley. Leaning against the car on the street outside, the demon hadn't moved an inch, his dark-shaded eyes fixated on the inside of the bookshop.

"Nothing at all," said Aziraphale, straightening himself up and exiting the shop, plastering a fake smile on his face.

The street was busy, and Aziraphale could feel a pair of snakelike eyes burning into the back of his head but he wasn't going to look. If he looked, he'd run...

As they approached the entrance to the elevator that would take him to his new job, Metatron smiled at Aziraphale in a way that was intended to be reassuring but sent chills down Aziraphale's spine. "Well, I can't think of a better Angel to wrap things up, and to set into motion the next step in the Great Plan."

Aziraphale started. This was why he'd taken the job. This is why he'd forsaken everything he'd ever wanted. "Um, yes, you mentioned that. Can I know... what it is?"

"Well, it's something we need an angel of your talents to direct. An angel who is familiar with how they do things on Earth."

Aziraphale felt himself relax somewhat. Perhaps he had been mistaken and Heaven really was beginning to consider the merits of humanity. He began to smile.

The Metatron turned as the elevator doors opened. "We call it the second coming."

Aziraphale's face dropped its smile, now stricken with panic and fear. The second coming wasn't a fluffy visit from Jesus as most people believed... the second coming meant Judgement Day, when all of humanity would be judged and those found wanting would be thrown into Hellfire. The world, as they knew it, would be over.

The Metatron turned and looked at Aziraphale with steely eyes. Aziraphale felt as though the being could see into his innermost thoughts and tried to rearrange his expression. He looked away... to his left, the tall, dark figure of Crowley still leaned against the car. Definitely waiting. Aziraphale realised Crowley was holding on to the hope that at the last moment, Aziraphale would change his mind and choose their life on Earth.

But what will that be worth if we end up with no Earth left to live on, my dear?

It took every bit of strength Aziraphale had ever had to tear his eyes, his heart, his everything, away from the life he could have had and walk into that elevator. He sighed, inwardly letting go of it all. As he entered, it almost felt as though every step was being taken by someone else, and the smile on his face was a ghost of himself. He was so focused on appearing normal that he didn't notice the Metatron's sigh of relief and smile of victory as the doors slid closed.

"Going up," said the disembodied voice, and they began to move up towards Heaven. Every second that passed, Aziraphale felt his anxiety rise.

The second coming.

The second coming.

Judgement Day.

What had he done? How on Earth could he possibly circumnavigate this? And on his own? Without...

With another pang, Aziraphale realised that Crowley would be Judged just like everybody else. He knew in his heart that Crowley wasn't completely bad, but he had always been under the impression that Judgement Day was very black-and-white when it came to who was deemed righteous and who was not. He could lose him. He could lose everyone - and this time, it would be all his fault. No chance to shrug and complain that someone else had the power this time.

What could he do? What could he actually do?

As the elevator continued to take them higher and higher, Aziraphale racked his brains, and Crowley's words suddenly sprang into his mind. "Just to be able to ask the questions..."

Slowly, a plan began to form in his mind.

A plan that would begin... with a suggestion box.

Aziraphale smiled.

Please visit me on AO3 and leave feedback! 🤍

[eefaevie]

✨ my official good omens s3 prediction post ✨

which accidentally I guess comes with a side-order of analysis and a soupçon of meta because I can’t shut up

The quote "The plans for Armageddon are going wrong. Only Crowley and Aziraphale working together can hope to put it right. And they aren’t talking." is intentionally misleading.

I think with Aziraphale gone, Crowley is going to become Grand Duke of Hell. He’s hurt, he’s tired, he’s got nothing to lose anymore. He’s also a bit of a dramatic petty bitch (affectionate), and after suffering what he considers the ultimate betrayal from Aziraphale, he wants to hit him where it would hurt equally by joining the “bad guys” fully. Crowley thinks of himself as unforgivable, and since (in his mind) Aziraphale refuses to “see” him for who he really is, he’s going to force him to by acting out like this (beside the fact that we know that this isn’t actually who Crowley is, but he’s injured and lashing out, even if it hurts himself, too.)

So, that quote. The plans for armageddon are going wrong. as in heaven can’t get it to start. And the only way they CAN get it to start is to get the Grand Duke of Hell and the Supreme Archangel to work together, which they are refusing to do. Think about all those meetings between Gabriel and Beelzebub — those definitely didn’t start off as dates, they were business meetings. And so Aziraphale and Crowley REFUSE to speak to each other (with MAXIMUM pettiness and passive aggressive comedy) because they’re both mad at each other for their mutual miscommunication, but also because they KNOW that if they do work together they’ll end up fucking it up somehow (and actually set the second coming back on track, which they obviously don’t want). The one thing that is a common thread through Good Omens is that Aziraphale and Crowley are actually kind of useless at their jobs, and they usually end up accomplishing the opposite of whatever it is they are supposed to do. Aziraphale is still in the grip of heaven, and can be manipulated — while Crowley is probably still terrified of Satan, and now that he’s kind of recklessly agreed to such a big promotion, that’s now his immediate superior.

(So really, if you’re useless at your job, and consistently do everything wrong, and you’re trying to stop a massive project — the best place to be would probably be in charge of that project, no?)

So anyways, cue Muriel being used for the most immature go-betweens (“Muriel, dear, please tell the Grand Duke that I won’t be able to make our dinner reservation this evening because he is a lying snake.” “Muriel, tell the Supreme Arseangel that I never made the reservation anyways and his holiestness was presumptuous to assume so.” etc etc)

I’m also betting that the Metatron orchestrated his offer to Aziraphale very intentionally, because he knows that they’re each other’s most precious thing, and he knew that raising Crowley would be the best possible offer to get Aziraphale to agree, but also, he knew that Crowley himself would never agree to it. Which left Aziraphale in a tricky position. He’s still too afraid of heaven to back out, and by separating him from Crowley, the Metatron thinks he has succeeded in both eliminating the biggest threat to the second coming (the earth’s only professional apocalypse-thwarters with extremely powerful joint miracles) and planted (what he believes to be) a huge pushover of an angel in the seat of power — essentially a puppet for the Metatron’s commands.

(I’m not even going to get into the alleged threat of the book of life at this point, but that’s it own big bag of worms)

Problem is, the Metatron severely underestimated how much these two are idiots, how far they’re willing to go for love (or how far they’ll go when they believe their love has been scorned), and again, I cannot stress this enough — how much they’re both idiots.

Crowley accepting the position of Grand Duke seems out of character, until you realize it absolutely is not. (The same thing goes for Aziraphale accepting the position of Supreme Archangel, btw.) With everything else happening, it’s going to be effectively Crowley’s only option — Aziraphale is gone, the second coming is coming, and there’s a convenient little vacancy at the top of Hell’s hierarchy. He’ll take it because he’s upset and hurt by Aziraphale, but he’ll also take it because he’s angry, and it’s the only way he can possibly have any impact on what happens next.

I’d go so far as to say that Crowley loves Earth primarily because he loves Aziraphale, and Aziraphale loves Earth. Crowley is always the one to suggest running away when the going gets tough, because his top priority is always Aziraphale’s safety. If the Earth ends up a casualty, well, boohoo, at least he’s got his Angel with him. Now, though, he’s got no Aziraphale — so what’s the point in sticking to Earth? Remember how he pretty much immediately gave up on stopping the apocalypse when he thought Aziraphale was dead? Yeah. (In fact, he probably realizes very quickly that if he wants any hope of having Aziraphale back and sharing their lives together — this time for real — he has to take drastic measures to make sure Earth and humanity survives. He’s an optimist, and he’s also selfish.)

So, surprise, Metatron! You just took these two will-they-won’t-they eternal virgins and made them business partners. Which is an issue.

Because remember, for one supreme archangel to fall in love with the grand duke of hell during dubious business meetings makes a good story. For it to happen twice makes it look like there is some kind of… institutional problem.

We’ve taken the “workplace” in “workplace comedy” and dialled it up to 12. Now it’s not two salarymen from rival companies just kinda begrudgingly doing what they’re told until they don’t, it’s two high-ranking executives from rival companies who’ve decided they’re in love with each other, they’re done with this shit, and they’re taking the whole industry down from the inside.

Never forget that Good Omens is, at its core, a comedy. I believe we will get the romantic south down ending, for sure, but the path to get there is going to be a farce. They’re not talking — perhaps only in the business sense — so who knows the hijinks and shenanigans and making out they’re going to make everyone around them put up with this season. Aziraphale orchestrated an entire Jane Austen ball for Crowley before they’d even touched mouths. They’re going to be insufferable and I’m praying for Muriel’s sanity.

Finally, the final element of my prediction: Jesus will be there, probably. Maybe even Adam, too! Maybe it’ll even be lost celestial baby pt. 2: electric boogaloo. (as you can see my priorities are mostly regarding what happens with Aziraphale and Crowley lmao)

(and also, you know that dinky little half miracle they pulled together for jimbo? They were a couple of nobodies then. Imagine a full-powered joint miracle between a Supreme Archangel and a Grand Duke?)

(…Imagine a full-powered joint miracle between two supreme archangels and two grand dukes? 👀 ok ok who knows but also I’m not convinced we’ve seen the last of beez and gabe)

ok bye ❤️

[saryasy]

Time is a curious thing, more so when you were present at its pitch meeting, and ended up voting no because creating an infinite universe just to put an end date to it was the most idiotic thing you’d heard (and you were there when Sandalphon pitched turning people to salt and won.)

But that has always been a human issue, to the occult, the years are never in short supply. The company is, however. 

They'd have forever, is what Crowley always told himself when the nights were particularly lonely. The same sun rising from the same east, casting the same hues and shadows over the same earth, and Crowley's fingers itched to reach for the only body that understood, only for him to curl them back, trapping them under his head, lest they move out of their own accord.

Time, they had lots of it.

****

At first their meetings were sparse, few and so painfully far in between. Some were accidents, true or orchestrated, some were a saving hand, others were purely work related. Yet, they couldn't stay far for long, like two planets orbiting each other, their magnetic fields clashing them together, the impact sending them farther than ever. The cycle repeating itself over and over, until they learned with time, decades, centuries (who kept count when they had eternity?) how to slide into the other’s path without causing an explosion, how to speak without words, and when to say no when every fiber of their being screamed yes.

Their meetings grew closer, and with them the distance separating them. 

But there was always a weight hanging over their heads, so heavy it almost felt like a third presence standing between them, sucking all the air out of all the rooms they’d ever been in, till it left nothing but stale, cold air, shaking with fear or freezing, who could tell. The weight of a thousand I can’t and I won’t and What if they found out, and a thousand other unspoken promises and unadmitted fears.

So, they made sure to never get too close, to not feed the giant following them wherever they went, like some fucked-up shadow. They made sure to always have a justifiable reason to be around (not that Aziraphale made that difficult,) to know when to pull away, and stay away, no matter how long it took.

They couldn't risk getting found out and having that eternity violently snatched away from them. He might act like it, but Crowley knows he’s not invincible. One wrong move and he, or worse, Aziraphale, could be wiped out from existence, and Crowley would be damned if he let his everburning desire be their undoing. He got used to the heat, anyway, it could sustain him far longer.

So, he counted the days that stretched into years, and bid his time. 

Time, they had lots of it. 

****

Four years. They stepped away from the magnifying glass for a mere four years, before getting thrown right back in it with the arrival of the amnesiac Supreme Archangel. Four years in the face of six thousands, they didn't even see each other for one of them. 

But it was fine, they were going to deal with it, then step away once again, and enjoy their solitude together.

As for this thing between them, growing larger and harder to ignore, well, they had forever to figure it out.

****

Back in his apartment for the first time in years, and sitting in his uncomfortable chair, terrible wine in hand (he blames the wine, not the lack of too familiar company,) Crowley considers for the first time in his entire existence an eternity spent alone.

He closes his eyes, he'll think about it later. Now, however, he is in for a long, long nap. 

Time, he has lots of it, after all. 

[applecidersstuff]

!!Good omens s2 spoilers!!

You know what? It’s all Jim’s fault.

Like all the problems in this season were cased by Jim.

When BG(Beelzebub and Gabriel) talk in the bookshop their dialogue gives the impression that they had some kind of plan, which Jim ruined. I mean listen to them:

“Silly, silly angel. Why?”

“I was coming to you, but I forgot”

It sounds like there was a plan that described how Gabriel was to act in case of an emergency; what he was to do, where to go, how to act. Like, why would Gabriel take the fly out of the matchbox and then leave it on the floor? Why (and where) did he take the box? It’s from earth, just like the matchbox, but we never see how he gets it. If he was figuring the plan out on the spot, he would just run to the lift in his clothes, and use the fly in the lift or right in front of it. But he took time to undress, find the box, write on it, and then get rid of the matchbox.

The thing that went wrong is Jim. He followed his intuition and went to Aziraphale, which probably has something to do with their religious trauma. BG had a plan, according to which by the time Archangels realized he was missing, Gabriel would already be in Hell, or both BG would be somewhere on earth and no one could find them. But Jim left the lift too early, on earth, while he was supposed to go all the way down, where he would be captured by demons and brought to Beelzebub.

And if Jim didn’t appear on earth, Crowley and Aziraphale wouldn’t have had to hide him, demons and angels wouldn’t have bothered them, Metatron wouldn’t have appeared and wouldn’t have asked Angel to be the supreme archangel.

[nicolegmattos]

Requested by @khlara

(I’m really sorry about the giant delay! Hope you like it 🙏🏻❤️)

Aziraphale had never been to Crowley’s flat that much. He could list that one night after the “Almost-geddon” and just a few other times before that. But that was all. They were used to spend more time in the bookshop.

Still, he was certain his plants were greener then. And there weren’t so many empty bottles on the floor. The smell of alcohol had already impregnated the air.

- Crowley? - Aziraphale called. For Heaven’s sake, this place is a mess, he thought.

- I’m here - The angel found him lying on the floor, surrounded by more empty bottles.

His sunglasses were a bit crooked on his face, so Aziraphale could see his eyes were shut. He probably didn’t recognize Aziraphale’s voice. And was way too drunk to ask what a stranger might be doing in his flat.

- Hey! - Crowley protested when he took his sunglasses.

The look of pure shock on his face when he realized Aziraphale was standing there was heartbreaking. Suddenly, it was like they were replaying their last meeting on their heads. At the same time.

- Ang… - Crowley stood up and recomposed himself. - Sorry. Supreme Archangel.

- Crowley… - Aziraphale started, and then stopped himself. It wouldn’t help at all. - I need to talk to you.

He handed Crowley his sunglasses.

- Take your time - He put them back -, Archangel Aziraphale.

- Can we not do this, please?

- Do what? - Crowley opened his arms. - Talk? That’s what you wanted to do, right?

- This is not how I imagined it - Aziraphale murmured.

- What?

- I need your help, Crowley.

Pause. An awkward silence.

- Oh… - said Crowley, at last. - So that’s why you’re here.

- Crowley… - Aziraphale started.

- You need my help? - He confirmed. - My help?

- That’s what I’m saying.

- My help? - Crowley continued. - After you left me? After you chose to leave me?

- It’s not what it seems… - Aziraphale tried.

- And for what? Heaven. Of all things - He lowered his head. - You know, after everything… I thought you had changed. For once, I thought you finally saw Heaven as it is. But I was wrong. Like always.

- I had to go back.

- No, of course - said Crowley, sarcastically. - You’re the good guys and Heaven is so ineffably wonderful. Why stay on Earth when you can enjoy the holy loneliness up there?

- Crowley, I need you - said Aziraphale. - I can’t do this without you. We’re a team, remember?

He reached for Crowley, in an attempt to make the demon look at him. But he flinched.

- No, Aziraphale. Not anymore.

He had barely looked at Aziraphale during the whole conversation. Now Crowley had decided it was better to turn his back to him. That almost made Aziraphale lose his hope.

- They’re planning the second coming.

Crowley hesitated. That seemed to truly scare him for a while.

- Good - He said. - It was about time they found a way to destroy this place once and for all.

That made Aziraphale’s knees weaken. Crowley didn’t mean it. Did he?

- I know that’s not what you want. You love Earth just as much as I do.

- Not much then - Crowley spat. - Since you chose to leave us for the greater good.

- Listen to me - Aziraphale stopped right in front of him, making him look away. - I have a plan. I know how to stop it. But I can’t do this alone.

Crowley kept looking at everything that wasn’t Aziraphale.

- If you’re going to say no you could at least do it while looking at me.

- I can’t.

- Why not?

- Your eyes…

His eyes. The eyes that used to be blue, but that he now knew were a sickening shade of purple. Gabriel’s eyes. The thing that marked him as Supreme Archangel.

- Oh, Crowley… - said Aziraphale, lowering his head. - I’m sorry.

He began walking towards the door. There was nothing he could do. But Crowley stopped him, grabbing his wrist. Aziraphale slowly looked at him.

- I forgive you - said Crowley.

He took off his sunglasses and placed them on Aziraphale’s face.

- There. Much better - He managed to put a sad smile on his face. - They look good on you.

- So… - Aziraphale was afraid he could suddenly say the wrong thing and ruin everything. - Are you helping me?

- Yeah… - said Crowley, putting on another pair of sunglasses. - Someone has to put an end to this madness. And it won’t be either of our sides.

- Crowley, we don’t have a side - said Aziraphale, extending his hand to him. - We are on our own side.

That made Crowley smile. A true smile. The one he hasn’t been able to show since the angel left him.

- So I guess we have a world to save.

- One more time - completed Aziraphale, his hand still between them.

- One more time - echoed Crowley, taking Aziraphale’s hand. - Together.

And together they went. To save the world once again. For the last time.

[thisbisexualbrainrot]

I Know Places We Can Hide

Rating: E

Summary: Aziraphale sneaks out of Heaven to visit Crowley. This fic is my version of a third season!

Tags: Post Season 2 Finale. Canon Compliant. Aziraphale POV. M/M. Sexual but plot driven.

Author Notes: NOW ON AO3! I just want more fic from Azi's perspective so I did it myself. Partly based on this post by @sensitivesiren cause I thought it was a great theory. Full first chapter is under the cut! :)

“Baby, I know places we won't be found and

They'll be chasing their tails trying to track us down

'Cause I know places we can hide.”

-Taylor Swift

—

He wasn't supposed to be here. 

Earth, that is. He wasn't supposed to be on Earth. And certainly was not supposed to be visiting a certain demon who, for all he knew, did not ever want to see him again. 

The Supreme Archangel took a breath to steady himself, absentmindedly pulling on the stiff collar of his pressed, white suit that he knew he could not show his face in. A hint of a buzzing sensation in his fingers and he was back in his familiar earthly attire. 

It's a small miracle, they won't notice…I hope Aziraphale bit his lip and wondered if he was pushing his luck too far this time. He had slipped out after his weekly management meeting, when the weight of the discussion had been overwhelming to no one else but him. He didn’t understand how they could talk about such things, their eyes dull with apathy, like they were discussing budgeting and not the destruction of the human race. 

These last few months had been a torment. He knew Crowley was right, he was not like the other angels. He didn't care about war or great plans. Well, he did care in the sense that he didn't understand why the earth needed to be destroyed at all. If I'm the one in charge, I can make a difference. Some difference he’d made, indeed. In the months he’d been in heaven, the only difference he’d made was restructuring the scrivener recording schedules due to Muriels absence. In all other regards, he had found the job to be lacking in the “making decisions for heaven” department. It was more of a mouthpiece role, mimicking whatever The Metatron told him to command of the lower angels. He realized rather quickly that he had been manipulated. That heaven had offered him the job to get him away from Earth. Away from Crowley. Away from actually making a difference. 

So, his wary eyes scanning the room near the elevator, he hastened his steps toward it and made his escape.

–

“Nope, not doing this.” 

Crowley shot up from the bench like it was made of holy water. “I have absolutely nothing to say to you, Angel.” He turned to leave Saint James park, but not before throwing a spiteful “You can go ahead and change your clothes back. I know that's not what you're wearing up there.” 

Aziraphale breathed out sharply through his nose. Of course, Crowley was going to be difficult. He’d hurt him, he knew that but he had hoped the demon would at least be a little pleased to see him.

 “I changed for my own comfort, if you must know.” Not a complete lie. “Crowley, we need to talk. I-I’m terribly regretful of how we left things and-”  “You need my help.” He interrupted,  “That's why you’re here, right?” Aziraphale said nothing. He understood he had hurt him but the demon had hurt him as well. And it wasn’t fair that he was being so cruel. Crowley clearly noted the silence and snarked, “Well, unfortunately for you, I'm out of the business of helping angels.” 

“Crowley, please.” Aziraphale said softly, “I- if you would just hear me out.” The angel felt a pang of fear, pursing his lips and hoping that he would at least be allowed to explain himself. He couldn’t read Crowley's expression since he wasn’t facing him but his shoulders looked… tense.  He finally heard Crowley mutter through gritted teeth, “Fine.” 

“Oh, thank you.” He could feel a slight warmth of relief sing through his bones. “You see, I made a terrible mistake and The Meta-” He stopped himself, this should be discussed more privately. He stumbled over his words, “That is, Could I-...would you be willing to come back to the bookshop with me?” It was the first place he could think of but not the most ideal place either, he realized. 

Crowley paused and Azirphale hoped he hadn’t ruined his chance. “We can meet at my place.” 

“Oh you're um- you have a new one now?”  Crowley seemingly ignored the question. He took out a slip of paper that looked like a receipt, scrawled an address on it and handed it to him, still not turning fully to meet the Angel's eyes. “Meet you there.” And with that, Crowley quickly shoved his slender hands into his tight pockets and walked away.

Aziraphale watched Crowley leave, the slip of paper still clutched between his fingers. Hearing the anger in his voice made the angel wince. Oh how I've made a mess of things.

-

He still stopped by the bookshop briefly to check on it. Muriel was delighted to tell him all about their interactions with the humans and how they had read almost every book in the shop already. He smiled kindly to them, his mind distracted by the events in the park. He did not mention any of it to the young scrivener. He gave them a quick farewell, thanked them for watching over things and exited the shop. Anxiety pooled in the pit of his stomach. Right, the address. He pulled it out of his pocket.

 How would he ever explain all of this? Where would he start? Had heaven realized he was gone? What if they found him? He glanced around anxiously and waited for a feeling of Michael or Uriel appearing but saw no none. He wanted to stop and see Maggie and Nina but couldn't risk any more time. He would have to catch up with them later. 

He glanced back down at the sheet of paper and could make out the address even with Crowley's terrible handwriting. Aziraphale couldn't help but smile. It turns out, the flat was just a few blocks away. Maybe Crowley didn’t truly hate him after all.

The doorbell rang, a hollow chime echoing through the flat. Aziraphale waited not so patiently for the black door to swing open, yellow eyes finally meeting his gaze.

 “I knew they would be purple.” Crowley mumbled with what sounded like annoyance to his voice.

His eyes. He had forgotten. “Oh- I would love to do away with them, however, I can't seem to change them.” He fiddled with his ring and gave Crowley a half hearted, nervous smile.  Crowley smirked, “I know the feeling.” 

He stepped aside, a gesture that pulled Aziraphale in and he was hit with the familiar comforting scent of amber and brimstone. I know what you smell like he remembered the demon telling him once, and well…likewise. The door shut behind him and Crowley headed over to a bar counter, pulling two wine glasses from a rack and pouring each of them a glass. A fire crackled in the hearth, and the room was cozy despite being mostly decorated in sleek black furnishings. Crowley handed him the glass and Aziraphale managed to say thank you with a steady voice. He was incredibly nervous. “So?” Crowley cleared his throat, knocking Aziraphale’s racing mind back into the room. “Are you going to explain what the purpose of this holy appearance is?” He settled in a large armchair, swinging one leg over the other. He leveled his gaze on Aziraphale, taking a sip of his wine. 

Aziraphale felt the panic that had been swelling inside of him threaten to bubble over. He had no idea where to begin, just as he had feared. He ran his finger nervously over the rim of his glass. Staring down at it, he centered himself and pulled together what he needed to say, or at least it was a start. 

He admitted quietly, “I've made a terrible mess of things. I should have never taken the job.” 

Crowley was silent. Aziraphale continued after a pause, his eyes still downward. “It appears The Metatron’s intentions were to separate us. I have been all but useless as a leader, I'm afraid. They don't actually let me decide anything. Not anything of real importance. And, worst of all, they plan to initiate the Second Coming in a matter of months? Years? I'm not entirely sure but it will be soon.” 

Crowley let out a frustrated sounding sigh, shaking his head, “So that is why you’re here, to get my help then? Cause if that’s all you want you can shove o-” 

“No.” Aziraphale looked up then, and he hoped Crowley could see the pain in his eyes as he confessed, “I am here to apologize and beg for your forgiveness.” Silence. A long awkward pause. Aziraphale didn't know what to say next, so he waited. 

“Well then Angel, go on.” Crowley gestured his glass toward him. “Beg.” 

Aziraphale huffed, “If you are going to make a mockery of it, I’ll just as soon leave.” 

Crowley looked amused, “Oh come on, you really can't expect that I wouldn't give you a hard time. With you rejecting me and all, it's only fair.” 

“I would appreciate you taking this seriously.” Aziraphale’s brow furrowed. If Crowley was going to make his feelings a joke, then he wasn't going to even bother trying to mend this- this…

“Oh I am,” Crowley’s tone shifted, “and you better start talking, Angel.” 

“Fine.” Aziraphale straightened, setting his untouched glass on a nearby table. He looked at Crowley, “You were right.” “I want the dance.”

“No.” Bastard.

“Then apology not accepted” Crowley took another swig of his wine. It was almost like he was having fun with this. Looking Aziraphale up and down he remarked flatly, “You’ve lost weight. No crepes in heaven, I suppose.” 

Aziraphale felt his frustration growing, “Crowley, will you please focus on what I am trying to say?” 

“So far, I haven't really heard you say anything.” Crowley shot back, his eyes were dark and angry. 

Aziraphale had enough. He moved toward Crowley’s seat, kneeling in front of him firmly but gently. He locked their eyes together, hoping that Crowley wouldn't see how scared he was and mistake it for something else.

“Then I will say it now.” Aziraphale’s voice wavered but he pushed on, “I have never regretted something more, in six thousand years. For choosing to leave you. The truth is…” He swallowed nervously, “I love you Crowley, no matter what you are. I will always love you the same.” He took a breath, “A-And you owe me nothing in return, except I would prefer for you to still consider me a friend. You don't have to kiss me, if it's not genuine.” If Crowley would agree to still be his friend, that would be enough. He didn't want Crowley to feel forced to love him the way he wanted. That would not do. And he couldn’t bear to hear Crowley speak to him with such disdain and anger any longer, even if some of it was deserved. He had placed his hands on the demon’s knees sometime during this admission, the warmth of Crowley's legs sending a jolt of adrenaline down to his gut. Now, it seems, he was unable to remove them. He was frozen in place, his eyes following Crowley’s expression. The demon said nothing, at first. Aziraphale watched as he slowly set his wine glass down, 

“You think it wasn't genuine then.” Not a question. 

Aziraphale looked back at him with slight confusion. “You- you surely know how I feel about you, Crowley. Certainly your kiss was a cruel temptation, was it not? A last effort to try to change my mind? I-I forgave you for it but it did hurt, you see, so I was angry and I-...I am..” 

“ARGH!” Crowley stood up, pushing past Aziraphale and spinning around to face him. “Did you really not hear a word I said?!”

Aziraphale, startled by the sudden movement and aggression, stood and turned to face Crowley with confusion now etched into his features. “I-I was listening. You didn't want to come with me, you didn't want to be an angel with me, you- you said you didn't need heav- “ 

“Argh, not that part Aziraphale!” Crowley rarely said his full name anymore. He loved how it sounded rolling off the demon's tongue. Very distracting. 

“What part then?” Aziraphale asked quietly. He had clearly been wrong about the kiss, but that meant- he felt his heart beat faster in his chest. 

“I refuse to believe you dont know.” Crowley’s expression hardened, but tears welled in his eyes. He didn't have his sunglasses to hide them and Aziraphale could see then that the anger and disdain for him was actually just…heartbreak. 

Crowley was heartbroken. Oh. OH.

He had been wrong in Crowley's intentions for the kiss.

Crowley had been trying to tell him his feelings the last time they saw each other. Aziraphale had just not been listening properly, or at least not been really hearing him properly. The kiss was a last ditch attempt, but it was to show Aziraphale how he felt. What they could be if he did stay. We could have been us. 

“Oh I…Crowley.” He stepped closer instinctively, reaching his arm out to grasp Crowley's hand. He thought for a moment Crowley would pull away, but he didn’t. “I've been such a complete fool. Please forgive me.” Crowley cursed quietly as a tear slipped down his cheek, looking away. Aziraphale pulled them closer then, his free hand reaching up to turn Crowley’s face back to him and wipe the tear away. His hand remained, gently rubbing his thumb on the demon’s cheekbone. Aziraphale’s heart could not have been beating louder in his ears as Crowley leaned in until their foreheads were resting on each other. A breath of silence and then quietly he heard,

“I’ve missed you, Angel.” 

“And I you, my dear. Desperately.” Aziraphale closed his eyes and brushed his nose against Crowley’s, cautiously. Slowly. With his eyes shut, the sensation of the demon’s breath was so close. His warm face was so unbearably close and the Angel pushed in further until his lips were barely caressing the demons, testing his boundaries. 

Testing to see if Crowley would push him away.

He didn’t. 

Aziraphales heart fluttered as Crowley wrapped his hand around the Angel’s neck, his fingers curling into the nape of the white curls and pushed in to deepen the kiss. It felt like fire. Warm, crackling and intense. Nothing like before, no feeling of humiliation or pain. Aziraphale sunk into it, letting out a small moan as Crowley licked against his lips. Crowley must have taken the moan as an invitation. He began to push off Aziraphale’s jacket and it fell to the floor. 

Aziraphale pulled back slightly, “Crowley, I- shouldn't we talk about this?” 

“I think we’ve done enough talking, don't you? Always talking, us.”

Crowley moved back in to claim the angel's mouth once more and Aziraphale agreed, they could talk after. After they- oh mother in heaven, has Crowley always smelled this incredible? He breathed in deeply, pushing his tongue in and getting a satisfying groan in return. He wanted all of him then. Wanted to touch every unholy inch of him. He felt Crowley start to push him backward and clung to him as they toppled onto a black velvet couch. He felt the weight of Crowley's hips as he settled onto his lap, one leg resting on either side as he straddled over him and cupped his jaw, kissing him feverishly. Aziraphale used one hand to pull the demon closer to him. The other gripped Crowley's neck, fingers gliding into perfectly soft red hair. He felt Crowley slip off his shoes and he did the same, all while not breaking their joined mouths even for a moment. Crowley chuckled affectionately as he broke their lips apart, “You sure you’re alright with this, Angel?”

“I don't know what you mean,” Aziraphale chided, “I have been around just as long as you. I know perfectly well what this is.” 

Crowley wrapped his arms around the angel's neck, “but have you ever...” he waved his hands and the rest trailed off. Implied. “I haven't had the desire until now.” 

“Oh is that so?” Crowley teased, “Well well, Supreme Archangel...” 

Aziraphale blushed hotly and sputtered “Well I- I wouldn't say I didn't have the desire till now but I just- oh you know what I mean you impertinent demon!” Crowley rolled his hips then, and Aziraphale forgot to keep scolding him. 

“S’what I’m good at after all” he whispered, his breath hot in Aziraphale’s ear, “flustering you”. 

He then watched the demon's eyes go wide as he grasped Crowley's thighs and flipped them over on the couch. The angel was now resting on top, his legs splitting Crowley's apart. Aziraphale began running his nose along Crowley’s neck, his voice a bit deeper than usual. “You know my dear, I think you underestimate just how adept I am at flustering you as well.” He then pressed a number of light kisses along Crowley’s long neck, and was quite pleased when he heard a low growl. He had never felt quite like this. There was an unleashing of desire at seeing Crowley laid out so desperate for him. He nuzzled lovingly against Crowley's mouth, his eyes half lidded, as he asked “Where is your bed?” Crowley swallowed, noticeably. His voice was rough. “Down the hall to the left.” 

“Show me.” 

Crowley pushed Aziraphale off of him enough to stand and hastily lead him down the hall, their sock-covered feet sliding smoothly over the hardwood floor. He had reached out and grabbed the Angel's hand without another word. And Aziraphale’s heart was in his throat as they entered the bedroom. Crowley pushed him back to lean against the doorframe and kissed him achingly and intentionally. The angel barely noticed the undoing of his bowtie as it dropped to the floor. They broke apart and Aziraphale sucked in a shuddering breath,

 “Crowley…” he exhaled as he lifted the silver tie over the demon’s head. The black leather vest came undone next and he captured the demon's lips in his again as Crowley set to work on his velvet waistcoat. With hungry confidence, Aziraphale pushed against Crowley until he was stepping backward toward the king size bed. The demon was finally sliding off the waistcoat and working his way down the buttons of the undershirt when he muttered with frustration,

“Too many layers....” and proceeded to rip the rest of the shirt off, the buttons clattering against the wood floor. Aziraphale, shockingly, did not object. He pulled the white undershirt off over his head and climbed on top of Crowley as they settled onto the black duvet, soft and inviting against their bodies. He ran a hand down the demon's side and Crowley hissed with pleasure as the angel ducked down and pushed the black t-shirt up to run his mouth along the demon’s stomach. The shirt was pulled off and got lost somewhere on the bed in the process. 

“Aziraphale...” Crowley breathed, and a vulnerability slipped out of him. He said the angel's name like it was a prayer. He brought his mouth back up to Crowley’s lips and felt the demon wrap his arms around him. When their lips met again it was a moment of devotion and reverence. He savored Crowley's mouth, trying to give him the worship and love he deserved. Please always say my name that way. Please always want me as you do now. He begged silently and he hoped Crowley could feel how much he adored him. The demon kissed back with as much affection, rolling them so he was now laying on the broad chest of the angel. He sunk his head down and began kissing his neck and down his chest. Aziraphale moaned and grabbed at the red disheveled hair of the demon, bucking his body upwards to bring himself closer to Crowley’s pleasuring mouth as he moved downward. 

“So naughty…” Crowley teased and Aziraphale let out a small huff of annoyance. But Crowley kissed his body tenderly, nipping and smoothing over the bites with his tongue. And slowly moved downward. Until Aziraphale sucked in a breath at the sensation of Crowley’s mouth on his cock, only a thin layer of fabric in between. He needed that fabric to be gone. Thankfully, Crowley was one step ahead and pulled the boxer briefs down the Angels thick thighs. 

The feeling was overwhelming, incredibly good but almost too much. His vision went blurry and all he could think was how he needed more. Every movement of Crowley's hot, wet mouth pushed the Angel further into utter oblivion. It was no surprise that humans found this so enjoyable, and he couldn’t believe he hadn’t done it until now. He gasped as Crowley's tongue flicked out to pleasure him and lost all sense of anything but the demon's touch on his skin. 

If this was sinful, Aziraphale made a mental note to sin often in the future. 

_

It was some time later when they collapsed, the tension in their bodies melting away with the release. Aziraphale laid next to Crowley, his breathing a little ragged as he caught up. He rolled over and smiled into the crook of the demon's neck and Crowley smiled too as they both broke into a shared laughter. There was no denying what was between them. There was no going back now. And somehow, after everything, they found that it was incredibly funny. Crowley sighed pleasantly. He rubbed his hand on his forehead, pushing his sweaty red locks away from his face, 

“Well, now that that coming is over with, do you want to tell me more about this Second Coming then?” Aziraphale gaped with dramatic disgust, and nearly shoved Crowley off the bed. Crowley sat up laughing, “I'm going to grab the rest of that wine.” 

Aziraphale pulled him back down to sit on the bed, sitting up himself to wrap his arms around him from behind and plant a kiss on his cheek. He savored the feeling of intimacy as his bare chest warmed against the demon's back. 

Crowley laughed warmly, “I’ll be right back.” 

He got up and pulled on a black silk robe he had hanging on his door, and reached into his closet to toss an oversized Velvet Underground t-shirt to the Angel. 

Aziraphale tucked up his nose at the shirt, “Don’t you have anything a little more stylish?” Crowley rolled his eyes, “It's just us, you’ll survive. I’ll go grab you some new clothes tomorrow.” 

Azirphale watched him slip the robe on, wanting very much to rip it off later. Partly to wear it instead of the t-shirt, if he was being totally honest. He could miracle something, he supposed, but he’d already risked enough doing the small one earlier. And Crowley wasn't doing miracles either, he noticed. He thought back to the handwritten slip of paper. 

But he couldn't deny that he enjoyed the pleasing silk covered view that sauntered down the hallway and out of sight. 

–

It turns out he had lost a little weight and the shirt did fit. Albeit a little tighter in the arms and shoulders than it would on Crowley but it would do. 

When Crowley returned, Aziraphale was wearing the offending t-shirt with his boxer briefs back on, blonde hair disheveled and flipping through the records Crowley had on a small shelf in the corner of his room. He noticed Crowley staring at him, a look of arousal in his eyes and he suddenly felt very self conscious. He was sure he looked like an absolute mess, but apparently the new look was appealing to the demon. 

Aziraphale walked over to meet him and accepted the glass of wine he had neglected to drink earlier gratefully. He felt so content it was almost dizzying and he heard himself say without thinking,  

“I hope you know that I am very much in love with you.” And he couldn't very well take it back, and realized he actually didn't even want to. He leaned in for a kiss before sitting on the edge of the bed. He felt the weight of it shift as the demon joined him. 

“I caught on, I think,” Crowley teased. “Seeing as you left your very important heavenly post to pop down here and seduce me.” Aziraphale’s blush deepened and he caught Crowley smiling devilishly, clearly enjoying it. 

“T-that wasn't the plan! Initially.” Aziraphale fussed absentmindedly with the bottom hem of the shirt, “Oh I don't know, perhaps it was. I just couldn't stand being there anymore. They are all so dreadfully dull and awful. I needed to see you. I couldn't leave it as it was and- oh dear,” Aziraphale remembered, “Do you think they’ve realized I'm gone?” 

“Probably.” Crowley shrugged, stilling the angels' fussing hand with his own. Aziraphale was grateful for the secure touch. “But they have no idea where you are.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I warded this place after I moved in, against angels and demons. No one enters here without my permission and no one can see it or who’s inside. We can hide here until we sort this out.” 

“Impressive,” Aziraphale sipped his wine, “How did you come up with such a thing?” “Muriel has been reading a lot of your books, the ones in the back. Spell books. And, I had my own ideas. I wasn't sure it would work but I tested it on Muriel, they couldn't come in until I let them. I don't know for sure about the second part of it. So we will see what happens, I suppose.”   

“Fascinating.” Aziraphale smiled fondly. “You really are such a clever demon. I’ve always thought so.” Crowley blushed, and it did not go unnoticed. Aziraphale let Crowley pull his face in and give him a long, affectionate kiss. His mouth was warm and supple from earlier, a hint of wine on his tongue. 

“I'm in love with you too, Angel.” Crowley stated, like it was as obvious as the stars in the sky. “And I thought, maybe, you would come back so I- I, you know, came up with a plan. Just in case.” 

Aziraphale beamed at the confession. He wasn’t sure if he ever would say it out loud and honestly didn’t need to hear it. But, actually hearing it was like finally releasing a breath he’d been holding for years. But that initial meeting in the park, if he’d wanted him to come back then why-

“You didn’t seem to want me back at first.” It was more a question, and he looked at Crowley to see how it landed. Crowley was staring straight ahead at nothing. Lost in memory.

“I did,” he said finally. “But missing you and actually seeing you again were very- it was hard to know for sure why you came back.” 

“Ah,” Aizraphale felt a small twinge of guilt, “Well, I hope it’s clear now.” 

Crowley chuckled, “Just a bit, yeah.” And for the first time, Aziraphale felt truly forgiven. 

They talked through the night, among other things that distracted from the conversation. By morning light, they had the beginnings of a plan to save humanity and each other. Again. 

_ It had been a few hours after Aziraphale had left the bookshop. Muriel was busy cataloging books when Michael stormed through the doors seething, Uriel following behind. “Where is he?” 

Muriel smiled, “Oh hello! Where is who?” 

“Aziraphale.” Michael snapped, “who else would I come here asking about?” 

Muriel winced, “I don't know actually. He was here for a moment but then he left. He didn't say where he was going.” 

Michael let out an aggravated groan. They had been tasked by a very irritated Voice of God to locate the second missing Supreme Archangel and bring him back immediately. 

The only problem was, there was no trace of him anywhere. Or the demon Crowley. 

Ugh. 

Michael was going to get so much shit for this. 

_

Author Notes: Thanks for reading! Let me know if you'd like me to continue this story. :)

[phantomram-b00]

So I think about those evidence photos we saw back in season one, and wondered, if that was from Furfur? (Stupid question I know but bare with me)

Like I can imagine Furfur finally caught a break and want to see earth to see what was the rave about, then look and see Crowley walking to somewhere, Furfur was following to say hi or “fuck you you lucky bastard” until he saw Aziraphale there and once he saw them smiling at each other and talking. Furfur internal thoughts must’ve been like ‘no way— they’re—- noo I’m sure Crowley have something diabolical to do with this angel, let me take a picture of this to show to them’ and snap the pictures and runaway. And was going to show but then thought ‘wait a moment, we may not know how to spell….but we aren’t stupid neither I need more proof.’

Then next time period comes around, and he got another break to go back to earth, see Crowley again, and once again was probably going to say hi until he see aziraphale walking into him and they again smile at each other and talk. (Well aziraphale talk about something and Crowley listens with a smile), and Furfur raised an eyebrow and question now ‘huhhh, okay this is interesting Crowley or Aziraphale haven’t smite or smote or whatever that word is! They haven’t kill each other yet, either they’re really good at hiding their schemes or…. No no. No way they could be traitors, n-not Crowley at least. We fought along side each other’ and take a picture again and walks away. Though his gaydar was starting to go off.

Then as the next time period rolls around and this time so aziraphale all alone, Furfur was gonna try to investigate until Crowley come at him and their face lit up once again. This time Furfur was like ‘okay— their closets are made out of glass. I seriously need to show someone this.’ Once more taking a picture and runs off.

Then when Furfur try to show this to a demon, maybe Shax, or Eric or anyone else. They either shrugged saying ‘oh we kinda knew—‘ or ‘huh, who know this was Crowley’s type’. Even Shax was like “how? How? This angel doesn’t seem to be Crowley’s type at all? How is this possible?”. Overall probably wasn’t the feedback he was expecting, not in a good way anyway, so he decided to stop taking photos as there no point.

Until, 1941. He can finally bring Crowley into deep trouble, and also Aziraphale. But given Aziraphale’s magic trick that didn’t happen at all, so Furfur was back to square one. All hope was lost.

Until 2019, when armageddon is coming to a close. He realize while feeling confident in himself, ‘why not add more chaos and sent these to the angel, maybe they’ll have a better response then my side’ so skips over and send the evidence as a biggest fuck you to Aziraphale and Crowley, and once armageddon fails and they were to be eliminated, Furfur had the biggest smile to finally see Crowley get karma after all these years especially the blitz. But of course as we saw they didn’t die, Furfur once again is left baffled and was yelling after that fiasco in his office “SON OF A BITCH I CANT WIN ANYTHING!”

Bonus is that, Furfur did show the copy of the evidence to Beelzebub as a last resort for any kind of punishment. But ze can’t say anything because *cough they rizzed the supreme archangel fucking gabriel* so had to play it nonchalant like “wellllll, we actually kinda knew and you know we did try soooo-“ with a shrug. So Furfur lost hope after that.

[topaziraphale]

Hi I still haven't gotten out of bed but I'm already fully armed and ready to shoot down anyone that tries to say Aziraphale doesn't care about Crowley anymore or WORSE, never loved him THAT much in the first place.

Crowley is quite literally his top priority, he made that very clear with how distraught he is when Crowley leaves. Why would he shout "Don't go!" "Crowley, come back!" and "I NEED YOU!" if Crowley wasn't always at the forefront of his mind? Why is he so visibly striken and upset when he gives him that last, longing look, begging for Crowley to come with him and be with him forever, before deciding to step into that elevator? When he gets in there, his entire purpose shifts. He IS going to make everything better, and he IS going to make Crowley see the error of his ways.

I can promise you all Aziraphale is going to stop at NOTHING to get Crowley to come be with him forever, as an angel. He is going to do WHATEVER it takes, now that he is the acting Supreme Archangel. It's Crowley he wants first, Heaven he wants second, and, sadly, due to the Mettatron making this offer, a life on Earth he wants last. And that sets up such a FANTASTIC conflict for S3!!!!!

Aziraphale, our beloved, fussy, STUBBORN Aziraphale, is now compromised. He is compromised with POWER. Power as the LITERAL, SUPREME ARCHANGEL. Is this NOT SUCH AN EXCITING AND HEARTBREAKING PROMISE FOR A WILD S3 EXPERIENCE??

Guys, we ALL know Aziraphale let Crowley down, but you have to see that Crowley let Aziraphale down in his eyes. Just as much. That's what makes this scene so tragic. We know Aziraphale isn't thinking the way we and Crowley thought he would, or HOPED he would despite how the world Didn't End. How despite everything in how S1 ended, he was still left with an uncontested sense of superiority that we were all too elated to see was something Left Behind within him.

This season brought all that stuff out:

"We will win of course. Obviously. Heaven will triumph over Hell. It's all going to be rather lovely."

"You were an angel once..."

"Why, yes, I am a great deal holier than thou, that's the whole point."

(after gabriel/beelzebub leave in s1) "See, Crowley, it's as I said--" (back to what he said in the Bentley in S1E2, how Evil always plants the seeds of its own destruction and Good will always win out in the end)

These types of thoughts, and him spending all of the 6,000 years he knew Crowley separating them as one inherently good and one inherently wicked.... guys, that won't just go away after only 4 years of being on their Own Side. We hoped it would. We wanted it to. But it doesn't make sense. Yes, even if the earthshattering realization Aziraphale had that Heaven never truly cared about what was Good did change his character and essentially complete his arc in S1... it didn't change everything.

His arc in S1 was completed when he learned that Heaven wasn't for him. That they never cared. That only he and Crowley could save this world. But this is where the show deviates from the book - Aziraphale in the book is angry. Bitter. Scorned. Aziraphale in the show is just heartbroken. He mourns for the only ever family he knew. He mourns what he always saw himself to be. That mourning isn't just going to go away after 4 years. What is 4 years to a creature that has lived for a possible billion before the Creation? 4 years on earth to 6,000? That terrible wound he suffered that day is still VERY much fresh. It's an open wound he didn't properly take care of. And the Mettatron noticed, didn't he? Yes, you can understand that someone or Something isn't FOR you, and know all the reasons why, yet still wish you could go back... it's how abusive relationships work. You confuse nostalgia with remorse. You confuse nostalgia for real love.

Of COURSE he would seize the opportunity to get what he felt he lost back. And HE could do it. HE has the power. He can make it ALL RIGHT again, everything he's ever wanted...

...and this is why he completely breaks down when Crowley doesn't want to be beside him to do it. Rewatch it. Look at him. Look in his eyes. The way he winces when Crowley kisses him. His internal conflict (Heaven/Crowley vs. Our Side/Crowley) is externalized through Sheen's brilliant acting. His arms coming up to embrace him, but they never fully commit, they just graze him and hover around his body. The way he launches himself backward, away from the kiss, but his body is still slightly leaning forward. When he brings up his shaky hand to touch his lips, and not crying. Never crying. Because he is an Angel, and Angels don't cry. Not like a Demon would. Crowley is all he wants, but now, Crowley doesn't want him. Not like this. Not anymore.

Because, well, Aziraphale said it, didn't he?

Nothing lasts forever.

[consultingcompanion94]

Once Upon an Eternity

Chapter Two

Summary:

Something happened since Aziraphale left. Will Heavenly or Hellish power be enough to fill the missing pieces, or will Crowley have to look elsewhere?

Under any other circumstances, Crowley would have scoffed at the ridiculous notion of the scene before him- the back room of Nina’s coffee shop functioning as a makeshift war council room in the loosest form of the term. 

Scoffing was very much abandoned in the wake of the tension filling the room.

It became clear there was one common thread among the Demon, Scrivener, and two shop owners present- their collective gaps in awareness of recent events proved they were, indeed, missing something that could not be explained away as easily as it could if those gaps had only affected one of them. 

Knowing they were in the same predicament should have been reassuring…

“You’re seriously telling me you have no way back into Heaven?” Crowley growled angrily at the smaller Angel, ignoring the voice in his head that sounded annoyingly like Aziraphale berating him for being overly harsh. 

Nina and Maggie had spent the day doing their best to keep up pretenses running the coffee shop while Muriel had been attempting to gather information. Crowley had been holed up in Nina’s back room, doing his best not to let the tension fizzling in his veins escalate into a lightning strike (he was certain Nina would hold any damage that would cause over his head forever.)

“I’m sure,” Muriel murmured, shifting uncomfortably at Crowley’s grilling. “I have no idea if I made any attempt to enter Heaven during the time we can’t account for, but I certainly didn’t report Upstairs in the weeks following my acquiring the bookshop. I tried all morning and afternoon to gain access to Heaven- no luck. Not even a hint anyone had received or even noticed my attempts to request entrance.”

Crowley wanted to snap that Muriel had acquired nothing. The bookshop belonged to one Angel and one Angel only, but he bit his tongue just short of drawing blood and growled softly, raking his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“I take it that’s unusual is it?” Maggie asked tentatively, earning a harsh bark of laughter from Crowley.

“You could say that. Apparently his Supremeness either found out about me sneaking in and doesn’t want a repeat, or he really wants to make sure I can’t gain access regardless of if he knows about last time,” Crowley replied.

Drumming her fingers against her knee, Nina shook her head, unsatisfied by that explanation. “I don’t know mate. Seems too big a jump to go from the Mr. Fell who left to now having him seal off… well, you know...” she trailed off, still having trouble wrapping her head around the world of the occult and ethereal she’d been plunged into.

“I agree. There’s got to be a larger trigger here. Something specific had to have set him off,” Maggie nodded.

After a moment, Muriel chimed in, “I supposed if you put it that way, isn’t it obvious?” When the looks directed back at them made it clear that it was indeed, not obvious, they continued a little more forcefully, “You must have snuck back into Heaven again Mr.- I mean, Crowley. Think about it! The Supreme Archangel finding out you snuck in last time wouldn’t give him enough reason to lock Heaven now. Something had to have happened to make him feel a security breach was a more active threat, and how many other Demons can you think of that would voluntarily go anywhere near Heaven?”

Crowley had to admit, what Muriel said wasn’t wrong. Of all the tactics Hell had ever used, they had always stopped short of attempting any actual infiltration of Heaven, all efforts focused solely on Earth. Crowley may consider Hell beyond incompetent, but not even the stupidest Demon would be willing to risk almost certain discorporation by going Upstairs uninvited.

Until Crowley had seen Aziraphale in danger and was just desperate enough to risk it.

“Hell of a lot of good that does us,” Crowley grumbled irritably. “Even if past me was stupid enough to go back again, that still gives us no answers to why I would think that would be anything other than a massive waste of time.”

“You and he did plenty of messing with minds at the ball,” Nina countered, “Why don’t you just… snap your fingers, wave your hand, whatever it even is you do and reverse whatever was done to us?”

“Miracles don’t work that way,” Muriel replied simply. “They can be tricky at the best of times, even for those most experienced in them.”

“And even the best miracles have their limits,” Crowley added with a sigh.“ Things would certainly be different otherwise. Wouldn't be much of a way to keep Heaven and Hell in line if all Miracles could be undone just like that. No consequences for going against orders if you can simply miracle them away. No way to actually fight the opposition if you can shut down each other's every move just like that.”

Probably worked in our favor with Jim, Crowley thought. It would have made for a very different argument if restoring “Jim’s” memories had been possible and Aziraphale had been attempting to convince Crowley to help in that way, rather than by simply hiding him. Very unlikely he’d have been willing to risk actively restoring the being who had tried to burn hi-the Angel.

“Bottom line,” Crowley continued, shaking himself out of his reverie, “We’re not likely to get anywhere unless we figure out what we’re missing that Az-the Supreme Archangel is working so hard to keep us from knowing.”

“With Heavenly and Hellish power off the table, where does that leave us?” Muriel asked, nervously fiddling with the throw pillow they’d grasped in their lap.

“Really hoping you’re not about to say there’s some other third entity we haven’t heard about yet,” Maggie chuckled nervously, causing Crowley to sit up straighter.

“Not unless you count humans as a third entity… weeell, technically human… he might not have accounted for that, could be worth a go…” He muttered, the others watching his mind whirring before Nina finally huffed in irritation, “Mind sharing with the rest of the class?”

Ignoring her questions with a dismissive wave, Crowley pulled out his phone, snapping his fingers to miracle the phone to pull up the number he needed, only waiting a few moments before responding with an almost imperceptible sigh of relief, “Hello? Book girl? What do you mean you… You seriously knew I was going to… Rolling his eyes, Crowley cut off, “Of course you did. I’ll save my breath then. How long till you can be here?” Nodding, Crowley merely gave a few more affirmative grunts and hums before ending the call.

“And that call was…” Maggie trailed off, Crowley finally turning his attention back to the room with a mischievous curl of his lips.

“Another power source to try using in getting our memories back, one that if we’re lucky a certain Supreme Archangel won’t have accounted for,” Crowley grinned. “Courtesy of a certain descendant of a certain witch.”

Previous Chapter

[grumelot123]

"I'm trying so hard to hate you." Good Omens, Crowley x Aziraphale (1/?)

Tw: Angst, foul language

(Angst at first then a happy ending) I am so sorry that this is so long.

This is all set, let's say 3 months after Season 2 Episode 6

Starting out with AZIRAPHALES POV!

Today has been one of the...longest days I've had being Archangel. and that's saying something seeing battling with not picking up that phone to call Crowley is an everyday battle that occurs.

Maybe today is the day I lost that battle.

Even if I wanted to call him, what would I say?

"Hey know I rejected you but want to forget all of that and just come to Heaven with me?" I'm pathetic. Can't even keep my own friend. Not even my friend but my best friend. Someone who I even could have called my boyfriend. Mine. But I threw it all away. To protect him. But he'll never know that. He wouldn't even give me the time of day. Which I'd understand, if I were him I'd do the same.

I just wish there was some way to fix this, to fix us.

CROWLEY POV AHAHAH WAHOO

It's been 3 months since...the thing.

He hasn't even called. Even if he doesn't like me, wouldn't he still want to be friends? Maybe he never wanted to be friends in the first place. He did kind of get stuck with me all these years.

I want to call him. But what would I tell him?

"Hey even though I told you I wanted it to be us and you come with me somewhere to get away from everything, and even though you rejected me, still wanna be best friends?" Maybe he's moved on. Actually made more friends up there. Forgot about me. I miss him so much it hurts.

I wish we could go back to normal. Our normal. Us.

AZIRAPHALE POV

Paperwork is officially the most boring thing to do anywhere and everywhere. I'd rather be fixing Armageddon all over again.

*alarm goes off throughout Heaven*

"What's going on?" I stand up and run out to see what's going on.

"Aziraphale! Something's going on down on Earth with the Antichrist child! He's becoming evil again! You stopped Armageddon once before? Can you go try to fix it again?"

I was J-O-K-I-N-G about the Armageddon thing.

"W-well I mean I'll have to try won't I? How much time do we have till, you know?" I know I'm stuttering and sounding breathless but first of all..the worlds gonna end. Second of all there is a chance that this could be an excuse for me to see Crowley.

"I'd say 5-7 days? We aren't sure what's going on, or what's got him mad this time. But when you go down it would probably be good you had some company with you."

"Thanks for the advice but I think I have someone in mind that'll be of some assistance" I practically ran out because 1. Saving the world. and 2. Crowley is going to need a lot of convincing.

Hope he still has my number?

CROWLEY POV!

I check up on Angels bookshop twice a week, for a few reasons. Hope, that he will return to me and understand. Worry, that something will go wrong and Muriel will sell a book. And Anger, that he left me. He left us.

Unfortunately for me I would go to hell and back for him literally and physically. Because I love him. I love Aziraphale.

*ring CALLER ID Angel*

"Speak of the fucking Angel?"

Uh do I answer? I mean I shouldn't but, I have to. for him. I'd do anything. Even if this is false hope.

"What do ya want? sUprEme aRchAngEl AziRaph-"

He cut me off. "Yea yea I know really funny and all but there's a problem. Like world ending Armageddon 2 problem? I need your help, where are you?" He sounded frantic and almost rushed. He's not lying about something being wrong but why is he asking me for help? Just because he knows I will?

"Oh. So that's the only reason you called me? Just because there's a problem and you know I'll do it? So that's all I am to you? A last resort?" There was a hint of hurt in my voice. Which is good because I was. I knew we ended on bad terms, but i didn't think..

I was interrupted out of my thoughts with an opening of a bookshop door, along with something almost like a strangled sob. It was Aziraphale.

"No..no Crowley I didn't call you because I knew you'd do it. I called you because you are the only one who can do it. Well do it with me. I can't work with anyone the way I work with you. You will never be a last resort to me my dear because you are the first person I'd go to."

He steps closer. My glasses start to fog up and I realize that I must have started crying as soon as he even called.

"You are my first choice Crowley. I've made wrong ones with you the last time we spoke. And even though these last 3 months have felt like indeed literal hell. It was worth it. Not because I didn't want to see you, but because I did it to protect you" He was still crying but he had mostly calmed down, his voiced had pretty much steadied. But as I thought more of myself I was sobbing, uncontrollably.

Protect me? That was the only problem? He was worried about my safety?

"S-so you like me?" Shit. shit. I just fucked it up, of course he doesn't. Why would he? I'm just a fallen ang-

"Crowley you're overthinking. I can tell by the look on your face. Nothing but the worst is going through your head. Look at me" He was worried. But he still hadn't answered my question. But still I looked at him. Looked into those beautiful eyes of his that I've tried so hard to forget. I swear I got lost for a moment.

He reached his hand up. At first it was to wipe off a tear. Then he went for the glasses. At first, as reflex I grabbed his wrist. But softly let go, waiting for his next move. He took my glasses off and slowly set them in his pocket, and he just looked at me, with a crooked like smile.

"How are you Crowley?" It was a simple question really, he said it so soft, so calm it was almost like a whisper.

"W-well you left me Aziraphale. If I'm going to be honest with you I am not okay. I'm tired, sad, and nervous. Tired, of restless nights not once getting a call from you. I'm sad because you have not reached out to me even once. But most of all I'm nervous, nervous that you've found someone else and will soon want nothing to do with me." At this point I was out of breath, I haven't talked to Aziraphale in months but here I was opening up.

"There's another feeling you have. Don't ask me how I know but I can tell, what else are you feeling my dear?"

And that's what did it.

"Hatred. I love you so much Aziraphale it hurts. Hurts so much I hate it. You leave my life so I try to forget you, tell myself it'll be a memory in the past but then you show up, months later, because everything and anything I've ever wanted and it just hurts. I'm trying so hard to hate you. But GOD AZIRAPHALE I just can't!" This time I let my anger be heard and even slammed my hands down on the table at the end for good measure. At first Aziraphale was shocked. But after not even five seconds...

He laughed at me. I had just poured my heart out to this Angel. My Angel. And he had the audacity to laugh at me?!? But what he said next..could have thrown my hatred away never to be felt again.

"Did you know that my favorite color is yellow Crowley?"

What the actual fuck?

"Well, yeah but why the fuck is this relevant to what I was saying?"

I was genuinely confused.

Silence.

Then he came over to me, lips almost touching, and he whispered.

"What color are your eyes Crowley?"

My eyes? Ther- Oh my, I'm a dumb ass hoe.

"Y-yellow?" I said breathing heavily, with Aziraphale being near me it was intoxicating. In the best way possible.

"Yea they are. Do you want to know why, even if you never stop trying to hate me, the reason I could never hate you?" He replied getting a little bit closer..I could feel the heat between our lips, just there..waiting for one of us to close the space.

"Why, no, what is the reason you could never hate me Aziraphale?"

I asked this question with the same amount of uncertainty as there was determination.

"That is because, my dear Crowley. I love you so much, that no matter what you did, said, or felt. I could never hate you."

Thats when he finally closed the gap between our lips.

At first, it was only a small kiss, to test the waters, but as soon as he figured out where I stood in this, he went in for as much as he could, refusing to come up for air. I don't think I have ever been kissed like this before, it was soft but comforting. But also at the same time hard and filled with love. It was like we were 2 teenagers that had no idea when to stop.

After what felt like hours, I was the first one to let up for air.

"We need to talk about this" As soon as I pulled away I already missed his warmth and wanted more but, we may have bigger problems.

"Yes of course, we have all but 5-7 days to talk all we want, but how about we talk just at the hotel?"

Hotel? Since when?

Armageddon. I was so caught with- nevermind that. We have a whole god damn world to save then we can worry about ourselves.

"Yes, yea the hotel. I'll get the car"

There was no way I was letting Aziraphale do this alone is there? Nah.

"Wait you're actually coming with?" Azi replied sounding genuinely confused with the whole situation.

"Well of course. You'd have to kill me to get away from you darling"

We may only have 5-7 days to live. Trying to stop Armageddon is not at all what I'd like to be doing. But if I'm spending it with my Angel?

Last days well spent.

PART 1 IS FINISHED!

Thoughts?

[aziraphales-library]

Hi! Your account is so great and I really appreciate what you guys do here.

Im not sure if there are many of these out yet, but I’m looking for good fics of what season 3 could look like. Like the events of 1 and 2 are the same but then we get to see them dealing with that ending.

Thanks so much!

Hello! Here are some series three speculation fics...

Armageddon Part 2: The Second Coming by Halfling (M)

Takes place immediately following the end of season 2 of the show. Crowley just wants to be left alone but he keeps getting interrupted. Heaven is MIA, Hell is up in arms, and no one can get a moment's peace.

what we could have been (and what we one day shall be) by meetmeatthecoda (E)

The next time Crowley sees Aziraphale after the day he broke his heart, entered a blinding white lift, and left him behind, it’s in almost the exact same place. Three interminable months later. That awful day, driving aimless and slow in a silent Bentley, Crowley wasn’t sure if he would ever see Aziraphale again, let alone so soon, considering the way they left things. He tried to tell himself that he didn’t care if he ever clapped eyes on his white blonde curls, steel gray eyes, and ridiculous tartan bow tie ever again, but the tears threatening to spill out from behind his sunglasses betrayed his true feelings. (Not to mention the random but persistent spots of bright yellow paint on his car’s otherwise pure black sheen, ruthlessly rubbed out with an index finger the temperature of an open flame.)

Bad Omen by lavender_mo0n (T)

There is a common misconception that owls are a bad omen, a warning sign for death and destruction that is to come. On the contrary, a better way to describe it is to say that they are a symbol of change. That change may come in the form of death, but perhaps that is more in reference to the death of life as we know it. And perhaps a certain angel is about to experience a ~very~ big change.

On the Side of the World by profdanglais (M)

The demon Crowley has gone rogue. Precisely what “rogue” looks like on a demon who was never anyone’s idea of “manageable” is something neither Heaven nor Hell is currently equipped to deal with. Hell is rebuilding and Heaven, under the auspices of the Supreme Archangel Aziraphale, is focused on spreading the Word of their prophet, known as the Second Coming--of what, exactly, remains unspecified. Neither side seems to remember who Crowley used to be, nor have they bothered to change the passwords. The Metatron has no interest in demons, rogue or otherwise. His Plan is going swimmingly and he couldn't be more pleased. Now if only he could figure out who’s responsible for all these unauthorised miracles that just keep happening, far and wide, on planet Earth.

Of Gardens and the Second Coming by Serenity_Black (E)

Starting moments after S2E6... The new Supreme Archangel Aziraphale is in Heaven, juggling the Second Coming at The Metatron's behest. Crowley is wrestling with his romantic realizations, and losing. What is it going to take to get our lovestruck beings back on track so that they can save our favorite Libra and all its inhabitants? And where are God and Satan in all of this? There’s a lot of ground to cover before this ends, as it was always going to, in a garden.

The Better Book: A Brand New Testament for the End of Days by HollyGhostLightly (T)

The Second Coming is underway and it turns out there are competing plans to determine the fate of the world! An unofficial/unauthorized Season 3 of Good Omens… to stop the bleeding. 💔 Excerpt: Aziraphale frowned as his intelligence was insulted once again, “How can you expect us to put our faith in something that lacks any detail whatsoever?!” “Let’s try to remember the plan is still technically ineffable. I’m doing my best to make it effable for you guys but some things are obviously outside of my abilities.” The angel growled, “Oh, the plan is effable alright! If you ask me, it’s completely fucked!!” “Real nice language, coming from an angel! You’re putting money in that thwart jar!”

- Mod D