#anti aziracrow

[beastsovrevelation]

My goals in my Good Omens fics:

Create content for my beloved rarepairs

Work with my beloved OCs

Smash AziraCrow with a hammer, thow it in the garbage can, set the garbage can on fire, and send it rolling down the hill, where it gets run over by a tractor

Fix the way c*non portrayed Heaven and Hell, and certain characters (*cough* Michael *cough*)

Make Michael one of the main characters

[eclecticelectriceccentric]

I'm gonna say it: I personally am a little upset that they made aziraphale and crowley good omens romantic. I liked it and felt represented by their queerplatonic relationships, and it hurts a little to have that taken away, especially as everyone seems to think that it's only queer now that it's explicitly romantic.

[notesbutnotfromunderground]

A lot has already been said about Good Omens. And I think the most beautiful thing about it is that, as WE, the fans, try to analyse it to make sense of the events that came to pass in the last episode of season 6, we're also learning a bit more of ourselves, through the lens and perspective of the different characters.

It's sort of a comfort movie, a kind of therapy and self-reflection. So here we are empathising and learning to hold space for the characters that we dearly hold close to our hearts. (More like brain rot, if you ask me.) For me, I've gained a better understanding of myself over these past weeks (oohh it's actually months now!)

And I think we'll keep going back to it until we make sense of Crowley's heartbreak (even the depth of him sauntering vaguely downwards) and Aziraphale's choices. As we continue to simply wish for Muriel to get their ineffable parents back together:)

Like can I also say there are so many layers to it? It's astounding, brilliant, and deserving of the word, ineffable. The genius of its writing—metaphors, imagery, symbolisms, easter eggs and most significantly, the integrity of the characters.

Because just when you think you've figured it out, you reread the book, rewatch the series, stumble through a TikTok video or Tumblr post, and you learn something new! Ineffably chaotic. Ineffably human. Ineffably curious!

So here's to the world and to the ineffable idiots' endgame, where they get to live together for all eternity in their garden of Eden, where Crowley no longer puts the fear of Crowley to his plants, books and books upon shelves scattered through the garden, and the Bentley parked underneath the Tree of Knowledge.

At night, they have a better view of the galaxy when the solar system finally gets moved to the centre of the universe.

Let there be light. Let there be a happy ending. 🪽🐍

[cleabellanov]

It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti hero gay ships that are doomed to fall from the beginning

[theofficialinternetloner]

I hate anti-woke people who say, "I don't like it when they shove the gay in my face!" Bitch, I feel the same way about the straight being shoved in my face, only I have to put up with it 100x more than you have to put up with the gay. You aren't special.

[sailorvenusxoxo]

Demonic Bonding (Crowley x Male Reader)

Fandom:Good Omens Pairings: Crowley x M!Reader, Crowley x Aziraphale at the end Requests: Through the asks, and not comments, please ♡ Summary: You're a demon sent to survey Crowley's temptations, despite you two disliking each other. Aziraphale suggests a bonding session, to have you two tolerate each other better. Your minds misinterpret bonding. Warnings: Light smut, BDSM, swearing, author got cold feet by the end, collar, leather, soft aziracrow ending Word count:2.6k Requested by: @alexiyahyah , and @chrissydablsissy had also asked for something with Crowley, but not necessarily this. a/n (please read): So. I have no idea how to sum up my thought process shortly, but I'll try. By reading the Vulture Article, I was utterly disgusted. Distanced myself a bit, but still stayed in the fandom, because I love it so much. In my honest opinion, I now believe GO to belong to Sir Terry Pratchett, the honest actors and crew working, and the fans. It's my first time really writing GO smut. Read tons before, but not since the article. I don't know, I supposed that by doing this, I was afraid. I got a bit uncomfortable at first. What if people view this as insensitive? What if people misunderstand my intentions? But please be aware. I'm still a bit wary about writing smut on GO, but the fandom can't die. Some of us love it too much, to let this filth of a person ruin it. We can save it by our own fan works, not giving this man any once of recognition anymore, and simply support the victims, and try to make NG lose more and more money. Saw a blog talking about it. Either way... Love you guys a lot, I tried my best. I love Crowley and Aziraphale with all my heart, which is why I ended it on a soft note for them.

“You’ve got to be kidding. Do I look like a bloody…How do they call it? Kid-stander? Kid-sitter? Baby-stooder?”

You mumbled, looking at Beelzebub, your lips pursed in an annoyed fashion. Your mind and mouth were starting to ramble, as you tried to remember that human word they used, to address the person who watched over their heirs.

You sniffled softly, rubbing in your nose, avoiding snorting a fly by inadvertence. You were used to flies and other soiled things that composed the realms of Hell, but that did not mean you were fond of ingesting it. It buzzed down the current body you possessed, and Beelzebub was always extremely furious to lose a fly.

Beelzebub groaned in warning,  looking up at you with their rotting lips and their glassy eyes.

“And do I look like I’m politely proposing this to you? This is not damned Heaven. Though we all wish it was damned. We suspect the demon Crowley of not accomplishing his temptations properly. For a bit, we let it through, despite the proofs he may or may not be fraternising with the blasted angel from the east gate. But now, we can’t let it slip. We need someone to assist him, and it’s going to be you!”

Barked Beelzebub, their voice raising in anger and command. You sighed in sheer annoyance, more bored and disgruntled than remotely afraid. You had been planning on torturing a recently deceased French twat politician, famous for colonisation, racism, and other lovely things that brought him to this place, but it looked like you couldn’t. You cursed silently, regretting the fact that Hastur would be the one applying the Nazi torture to the politician, instead of you.

But as you were contemplating on hurrying your task to get back to the little torture chamber, Beelzebub mumbled, a bit confused.

“I don’t get this bloody fussing. Thought you two got along, or you were his fan or s’mthing. You’re dressed like a groupie.”

Your head snapped back to the Duke of Hell, an offended scrunch on your face.

“…A fan? Will people just stop about it, already?! May I remind you he wasn’t the first snake in the existence of things? Nor was he the one who first dressed like this! He’s just trying so hard to be this snake entity, with it being his entire thing, just because he was the snake who tempted Eve, but he’s ridiculous! He’s trying so hard he even named himself Crowley! Who the fuck does that?! He’s just desperate, I’m telling you-!”

You ranted, as Beelzebub rolled their eyes, already sending you off to earth, as you pestered to yourself. You had never really met Crowley, nor did you interact with him, but you knew that because of that blasted fallen angel, the snake appearance was now all his… Sure, his snake tattoo near his ear was not a bad idea, so you did it yourself, except on the collarbone, also adding it to the list of things you had claimed for yourself. But come on, he wasn’t the only snake demon. You were there too! Bloody bastard had taken the credit all for himself…

As you descended on earth, you reviewed the information Beelzebub had literally thrown at you, the inscriptions written on the dirty parchment, that you held in your bloodied hands.

‘Demon Crowley. Not try and trick him, may possess holy water. Seen fraternising through years with angel from the East gate. Make sure he accomplishes temptations. Reports.’

You scoffed softly, as the crappy, shaky, and dirty elevator let out a cough of blurting horrible static noises, announcing you had arrived in earth.

Obviously, you had landed in Aberdeen, Scotland, instead of Soho, London, England. Typical of the people handling the elevator, to make demons land close enough to act like it was mistake, but far enough to piss you off.

Oh, well. Just a simple… Fly would do, right? Or a little demonic miracle to land in London. Not like they’d notice down in Hell anyway, with how much miracles bloody Crowley was producing recently, always making the alarms beep, driving Hastur out of his blasted mind. Which you always enjoyed, let’s be fair (or not. It was bad to be fair. Well, not your bad, so- anyway!)

You suddenly appeared in the busy London street, hurriedly leaning against a railing on the street, avoiding an old style Bentley that was driving extremely fast. You cursed to yourself, since you had almost gotten discorporated, all of that by a lousy…

You stopped, frowning, recognising the car. An old-style Bentley…? Oh god, it was-

“I told them I didn’t need or want to see you!”

Crowley hissed at you, storming out of his car, pointing a slender finger at you. You rolled your eyes, grumbling, recognising him immediately. Once again, you and Crowley did not really know each other personally. But you knew of each other.

And let’s say you two were not keen on sharing the same style and flair. It may sound so childish and immature, but you were demons. You were supposed to not care for maturity or proper, so you two weren’t going to pretend you two liked each other.

“You think I enjoy being here?”

You hissed back, pulling your hair away.

“Damn it all, I had a fat Frenchie to torture down there, and they just assigned me to babysit you, simply because you can’t do your job well!”

You snapped, gripping the railing with one hand, your knuckles turning white. Crowley scowled, rolling his eyes under his round sunglasses.

“Right, right. Sorry, forgot you’re always down there in the slums. Bloody loam, getting your hands dirty.”

He snarled, looking at your dirty and bloody hands, with some dirt under your fingernails. You rolled your eyes, unimpressed.

“Was that the best you can do? Acting like the posh angel you skip around with, and notice the dirt?”

You snickered, a mocking smirk on your chapped lips. Crowley’s squinted, a new fury seeping even through his sunglasses at the mention of Aziraphale.

“Do not speak of him. Do not even mention him, you hear me? If Hell is sending you about this, I’ll-”

He started, before you scoffed, your red snake eyes staring at him.

“Christ almighty, I’m not here to tell you to break up with your angel boyfriend. You think I give a fuck on what you’re up to here, between 8 to 8? All I need is actual proofs that you’re doing your temptations, and I’ll get the fuck out of SoMo.”

You grumbled, shrugging, as Crowley pinched his lips, still tense and annoyed.

“…I suppose they won’t just do it with reports, they also need other proofs, huh? And Aziraphale’s not- And it’s Soho, not SoBo-”

He grunted, as you mumbled.

“I said SoMo, not SoBo. Perhaps you’d hear better if it weren’t for that horrid tattoo on your ear.”

Crowley stayed silent, simply looking at you with a defying glare.

“…Wanna follow me around all day, like a bloody puppy? Fine. But no comments or other interactions. And just… Let’s say a week. It’ll satisfy them for a bit. And wear sunglasses, damn it! Humans will see your eyes!”

He snapped, walking away from you to a sort of old bookshop, that you reckoned to be the angel’s. You grumbled, cursing about the sunglasses, but still getting out the one you brought. You reluctantly followed him, crossing the busy street, looking slightly around. Last time you were around earth, it was… 1986, you reckoned? You had been checking in on new trends and stuff, for a bit of holidays from the Hell chambers, had even done some business with some slimy snarky TV magnate, Lord Baddingham or something.

Either way, you hurried to the store, your shoes clinking on the concrete, before entering the bookshop. Your nose scrunched at the unusual, pleasant smell, a mix of vanilla, coconut, and some monoi, along with the lingering smell of old books. This entire place, as large as it was for a bookshop, simply screamed of ‘Angelic’, and you were slightly disgruntled by it. Your throat hurt a bit, at all the pleasant smells, and you reluctantly walked in, as Crowley nonchalantly walked in, as if he owned the place, his pace always reminding of the tempting serpent he had been, before the first woman of Earth.

Should have been you.

Your eyes fell on a cozy, large royal red chair, where stood a fluffy blanket, with a pillow. It was angled directly to the sun, letting a ray of sunlight on the spot. You noticed Crowley’s eyes, despite the glasses, lingering quickly to it, and you scoffed to yourself. The lucky bastard… he must have relaxed so often here, simply lounging in his serpent form, embracing the warmth.

As your eyes still glared at it, visibly trying to burn it through thoughts, a person came in. Well, not a person. You immediately sensed it was the angel. Whether it was the white hair, the blue eyes, the fond wrinkles on his face, or the softness of his cheeks or his body, it was disgustingly angelic. This man was an angel.

“Oh, Crowley! This your guest, then…”

Aziraphale nodded, addressing a polite nod to you, as you blinked, a bit stunned at the angel’s reaction to you. Crowley grumbled, scoffing, laying his jacket on a sofa.

“Stop the teasing, angel. Y’know I don’t want him there. He’s just… there. For a week, minimum, time to give Hells the proofs.”

Aziraphale closed his eyes for a second, his eyes looking to Crowley’s, as he took off his sunglasses. The angel’s gaze seemed almost fond and amused, as he tutted.

“We talked about this, Crowley. With the amount of time, he’ll be spending here, might as well be making it more comfortable. You two ought to bond!”

Aziraphale grinned, nodding, as you cringed. Ugh, you remembered bonding. And as fun as it had been, you did not picture it with Crowley.

Crowley blinked, also taken aback by the angel’s proposition.

“Uh… Bonding? You are sure, angel?”

Crowley almost murmured, a bit stunned. Aziraphale proudly nodded.

“Yes! I’m sure you two can do it and simply create strong bounds! It isn’t that hard, when the effort is put it in.”

The angel confirmed, as the demon stood there, unconvinced.

“Were you the one who started this trend, anyway?”

Asked Crowley, as you both looked at his leather accessories and gears, up in his fancy modern flat.

You nodded, lips pinched, analysing each detail of the gears, begging to find a fault in it, just to spite him.

“I was. Well, BDSM was always a thing, humans can be kinky little things. I just put a name on it, made it more famous, and added the leather aesthetic.”

You explained, nonchalant, thinking back of numerous fun memories you had made on earth in the 80s, shocking some humans, and tempting others.

“Which you copied.”

You added, in a little jab, grabbing a collar with your bloodied hands. Crowley rolled his eyes, grabbing a whip himself. You stared at it and frowned.

“The leather’s worn. Throw it away. You’re fussy about plants, but not leather?”

You scoffed, scolding him, as he rolled his eyes.

“Oh, piss off. You think this what I do all day?”

He grumbled, as you sighed, taking the collar off the wall.

“Let’s just wrap it up, hm? A little session, in all of hell’s ways, and maybe then we won’t discorporate each other in the next few days.”

You mumbled, heading to put the collar around his neck, your hands grazing against his neck, as he frowned.

“I’m the submissive?!”

He noticed, almost appalled, as you raised an eyebrow.

“…I’m supposed to watch what you do. So…Yeah, you are.”

You observed, rolling your eyes, hooking the leash to his collar.

“M’kay. You know everything, hmm?”

You asked him, as he scoffed softly.

“We’re not humans. I don’t believe we need to have the whole conversation about consent and boundaries with each other. Good on you for introducing it to them, which is odd for a demon, but we don’t need it.”

He said, as you raised an eyebrow, softly gripping it.

“…Piss off. Humans, demons, angels, no matter what entities, consent is the most important thing. I won’t touch you, unless you specifically say you accept, and want it.”

You gritted through your teeth, adamant.

“I don’t care if it means loathing this whole week. I won’t budge on consent. No nothing, without consent.”

You grumbled, as Crowley pinched his lips, looking away for a bit. He was hesitant. Not towards what he wanted, but perhaps over what he was willing to admit.

“…I consent, and I want it. I’ll be the submissive. My safe word is… ‘Be-bop’.”

He stated, as your eyes squinted. Huh, Be-bop.

“…Be-bop.”

You echoed, nodding, before gently tugging his leash down, to have him on his knees.

“…Are you ready?”

You asked, your voice surprisingly soft, as Crowley squinted his eyes, a bit surprised, but nodded.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

You kept him bound to you, for a while. Tugging on the leash when you wanted, earning soft grunts from him. You couldn’t understand why, but it was working. When your red eyes looked to his yellow eyes, you felt it. The pool of heat in your abdomen, and the lust that came over you, crashing like a wave.

Limbs were tangled together, as the smell of the leather and his cologne remained between you two. Blows were struck, soft and hard, mixing pain and pleasure. You gripped his hair, he gripped yours. His hand wrapped itself around your neck, as you tugged on his collar.

Your lips also found each other, in this mess of leather and sensations, in a surprisingly soft lock. It was working. You were bonding.

Your fingers caressed his back, tracing the scars from his lost wings, as you feverishly bit and grunted at his shoulder.

It had ended with actual binds, and actual poles. Just two bodies in fusion, working against the others, wrists and ankles tied together, simply bonding, until you both fell asleep, to your own surprise. You had forgotten about fatigue and sleep. But it was a pleasant feeling, after the panting, the sweating, the marks, the leather, the words, the gestures… To simply fall asleep on him, bound.

________________________________

Crowley woke up, feeling something stirring at the binds. At first reluctant and wary, he opened his eyes, finding none other than Aziraphale, beside the bed, softly untying the binds.

“…Angel?”

Crowley croaked out, surprised to see him. Aziraphale looked at him, his blue eyes bright due to the sunlight. His smile was as soft as usual, though there was hint of cheekiness to it, like whenever he was about to mock Crowley, and thought of a thrilling joke.

“Just so you know, I had meant a light lunch, or perhaps some baking, to bond. Not this.”

Aziraphale remarked, softly sighing, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“But I supposed it worked. Which I’m glad for. The result is the same, as you so often say.”

Crowley snickered softly, looking at Aziraphale.

“…Yeah, it worked. And you’re… You’re here.”

Crowley remarked, sounding nonchalant, though his eyes were everything but this.

“…Yes, I’m here.”

Aziraphale confirmed.

“I suppose… That at the end of the day, no matter what or who, it always is just the two of us.”

Perhaps it always was, yes.

[hermiola]

New chapter💜

Take a Little Love From Me (WIP) - Chapter 5: Melancholy Blues

Chapter: 5/10 (30.3k words in total) Rating: M upped to E just to be safe Tags: Human AU, Pretty Woman (1990) AU, Sex Worker Crowley, Businessman Aziraphale, First Meetings, Idiots in Love (as usual), Sex Worker Inadvertently Seduced by Oblivious Businessman, Mutual Pining, (Eventual) Non-Explicit Sex, Lots of Banter, Terrible Opinions, The Fine Art of Not Thinking About The Important Stuff. No Age-Gap Updates every Friday and Monday.

In the aftermath of their dinner with the Shadwells, things between Aziraphale and Anthony get heated. In more ways than one.

“It suits you,” Anthony told him, mumbling as if he’d tried his best to keep the words contained and was now chiding himself for letting them slip out. “The smoking?” “The softness,” Anthony clarified, attention focused on him. Aziraphale smiled what was probably his first genuine smile of the night. “I think so too.”

You can read it over at AO3:

[queer-reader-07]

i feel like all the theories that exist for why aziraphale went to heaven that basically boil down to “he was out of character so here’s what the plot twist is” really cheapen the story and underestimate the depth of aziraphale’s character and his potential. and also underestimate neil’s talent as an author and writer.

neil doesn’t recycle plot twists. he doesn’t do cheap cop out plot twists. he doesn’t leave out loose threads. everything is so carefully thought out and intentional.

i would be genuinely so put off if he wrote a plot twist of “actually it’s not aziraphale it’s crowley” (body swap 2.0 can go die in a hole i hate it) or “omg woah aziraphale was drugged” (one of these days i will write a meta on why coffee theory can go die in a miles deep PIT OF DESPAIR because i hate it even more)

because neil is a better writer than that. neil can and will do better than that. you might think there’s loose ends hanging out but i don’t think there are.

i remember reading american gods and thinking to myself more than once “this scene feels kind of random why’d he include it?” only for it to be actually very important later on in the book. whatever you think is a loose thread right now is more likely something that connects to whatever neil’s got planned for s3.

and also. aziraphale is a more complex character than either of those theories allow him. i’m sorry but if you think that he needed to be DRUGGED to make the decision he did you have not been paying any attention. everything leading up to this point has shown us that aziraphale believes that heaven can be good if only someone (him) can change it. that smile we saw on his face at the very end of s2ep6? that was the smile of an angel who has plans. who knows he can’t go back now, and is ready to gut this place from the inside out.

and body swap 2.0 doesn’t even compute for me. because like 1) body swap happened it’s not gonna happen a second time. and 2) it logically and logistically makes absolutely no sense that at some point in those last few minutes they agreed to body swap and send crowley to heaven. that would completely defeat the entire point of the conflict that is the Final Fifteen, and it would just make it all the more confusing as to why crowley looks so angry at the end? because if it was body swap and that’s actually aziraphale, aziraphale wouldn’t look that mad?? and he’s not even around anyone else so he has no reason to pretend.

and like i get why on some level these theories are fun to play with. but i just can’t shake the feeling that all these theories are on some level rooted in people thinking aziraphale isn’t a complex character. aziraphale has so much nuance and depth to his character, why do you have to convince yourself he was drugged in order to make a nuanced decision?

[hikarry]

So, while I was sick I was cooking up some ideas so let me throw this imagine at you. I won't be as nice as the others because jello brain, but follow me!

After Season 3, like, way way way after. 30 years after, perhaps. Let's pretend Crowley and Aziraphale didn't destroy Heaven and Hell or turned (argh) humans and that Gabriel is having his happily ever after with Beez, yes? Crowley and Aziraphale are living in the South Downs, Muriel is taking care of the bookshop and Michael is the new supreme archangel, yes? Fantastic. Let's go.

So, Aziraphale is in the workshop working on some book and Crowley is yelling at his plants outside the window when someone calls. Crowley quickly lifts his head and looks at Aziraphale through the window. The angel just waves his hand and goes to the living room where his old phone still is. It was Muriel, once again asking for help.

"Of course, dear. I'll be there in a jiffy." He answers, as per usual. "Crowley, my dear?"

"Yes, angel?" He yells from the garden.

"Can you take a quick break and take me to the bookshop?"

"Argh. You have a bloody license."

"...Do you...want me to drive her?"

"...Gimme a minute!"

It's just the time for Crowley to clean himself and fix his hair (took longer than he would ever admit. Aziraphale was expecting it), and off they went, back to Soho.

"Will you come in, dear?"

"Nah. With luck, it's the same problem as last time and it will take you both hours. I'll make a reservation at the Ritz, go to that bakery you like and-"

"Oh, yes! Please buy some-"

"Chocolate croissants, I know. Anyway, I might pass by the plant nursery and then I'll come back. It takes me a maximum of half an hour. Would you like something to drink?"

"No, love." He leans over and kisses Crowley on the cheek. "I believe Muriel has a lot of tea inside. Mind how you go."

Crowley nods and gives him a quick kiss before Aziraphale leaves the car.

Once inside, with Crowley gone, the bookshop was darker than he expected.

"Muriel?"

He took a couple more steps when the bookshop's doors closed with a burst of wind and the unforgettable smell of ozone invaded, right before Michael, Muriel, Uriel and Sandalphon appeared in front of him. Muriel looked terrorized. Aziraphale tried to move in their direction but found his hand hit against an invisible wall. A trap, really? He opened his mouth to talk, but after Uriel snapped her fingers he fell unconscious.

Aziraphale woke up in some sort of old building. He was laying on the floor and his head hurt considerably. He tried to move his hands to try and help himself to his feet, but felt a sharp pain on his wrists.

Right.

Demonic handcuffs.

Original.

By that logic, he couldn't touch any of his power or call for his wings.

Great. So stay on the floor he would.

Bellow him there was an angel trap, with his sigil on it. Which made this much more complicated indeed.

Aziraphale managed to get on his knees and finally saw a window on the other wall in front of him. From this perspective, he was surely not on the first floor. He started banging with his chains on the invisible wall in front of him. It wouldn't do anything, obviously, but he would be damned if he just stayed there doing nothing.

Putting demonic chains on him was a low low blow, even for them.

After a while he started getting tired and sat back on his legs, sighing

"Mr. Fell?" A whisper came from the closed door.

"Muriel?"

"Yes. It is me. I'm so so so so sorry I tricked you. I tried to say no but...the supreme archangel asked. Are you...alright?"

"It's alright, dear. I'm...fine, considering."

"The supreme archangel is infuriated. She yelled at everyone and said that she would punish you at nightfall. I'll try to get some help."

"No, don't do that! They will punish you if they find out! I can handle them!"

"After I let them take you like that? I can't. I'm sorry, Mr. Fell. I feel too guilty. I need to help you."

"...How long have I been gone from the bookshop?"

"...3 hours, I believe."

Aziraphale took a deep breath.

"Right. Crowley is probably panicking flying around like a blind eagle. If you can get to a phone, try to reach him. If not, run. Go to Nina and Maggie's or to our house, alright, dear? Don't let them catch you. Don't get in trouble."

It was less than 2 hours when the doors opened. The first to walk in was Michael, followed by her two minions.

"Very well, Aziraphale. Are you prepared to return to Heaven?" Michael said.

Aziraphale chuckled.

"You must have lost your mind, certainly. Crowley and I made sure you all would leave us alone. So-"

"That's because we didn't have other choice." Uriel interrupted. "Now we have the Programmer." Aziraphale raised an eyebrow in confusion. "We can reprogram other angels to their original position and manipulate their memories."

Aziraphale got to his feet and flinched back. Now, that wouldn't do.

"We have already lost Gabriel, Metraton. We need you back. Especially away from that demon pet of yours. You're too powerful together, as shown by the way you almost blasted the whole of Heaven."

"And the machine is running, ready for you-" Sandalphon entering the circle, and held him by the arm. "-my dear." A fist was raised, but before it could collapse into its target, there was a very loud screech outside.

The angels looked amongst themselves and Sandalphon left to check on all the noise with Michael.

They listened to multiple voices outside. They were speaking so loud none was really distinguishable.

"You are going, not even if I have to take you myself!"

Uriel crossed the circle, making the lil mistake of erasing a part of the circle with her shoe. Enough to let Aziraphale go. He stepped out of the circle, but Uriel followed him, grabbing him by the lapels and pushing him against the window, that broke against his elbows and back.

Now the voices were more clear, and one of them was, without mistake, Crowley. He took a quick peek outside and there he was, fighting both the archangels.

Right. He had to get a wiggle one.

"I'm sorry, dear girl." He swung the chains towards Uriel and she fell to the floor, sluggish.

Quickly, he turned around and looked down. He was on the third floor with two archangels and a demon blocking the exit.

"Crowley!" The demon's head snapped up in between the confusion that was him and the archangels.

Aziraphale climbed on the window and sat on it. He still couldn't use his wings so all he could hope for was Crowley's pristine timing. With his eyes closed, he took a final last breath and leapt out of the window. Within seconds he felt arms holding him and the unmistakable sounds of wings flapping.

"Are you insane?! You could have been discorporated! What would have happened if I didn't catch you, eh?! There's no other corporation, angel! You have to stop-" Aziraphale giggled, wrapping his arms around Crowley's neck, trying to get in a better position. "What?"

"Thank you for the timely rescue. Again."

"Why are you laughing? This isn't a laughing matter! I'm gonna kill those-"

"Crowley." The angel put his hands on his face, forcing him to slow down and face him. "Let's just go home, yes, my dear? There's a lot to discuss and I need a cup of tea for that." Crowley took a deep breath and smiled down at the angel. "Muriel found you?"

"Yes, they called. I told them to go to the cottage and stay put. I came as fast as I could but they literally dragged you to the middle of nowhere."

"Oh!" Aziraphale looked over Crowley's shoulder. "What about the Bentley?"

Crowley laughed, looking in front once again and picking up speed.

"She's on her way back home, obviously. She ran as soon as I caught you."

Of course she was. Why was he even surprised, he thought with a chuckle.

[darklinaforever]

I ship the Innefable Husbands, Blackbonnet, Hannigram, Destiel, Riddlebird, however, I do not ship Lokius, but Sylki. I specify, because I notice that most Lokius shippers also ship these ships. Now, I too, for all that, am not at all for Lokius. I don't see any romance/queerbaiting between these two.

[beastsovrevelation]

You hate the final 15 because AziraCrow got torn up.

I hate the final 15 because of the way my girl Michael was treated.

We aren't the same.

[ironasss]

i feel like some people dont know what proship means cus how are you gonna tell me an actor is a proshipper for being chill about a super non problematic ship 😭

[theshippirate22]

me, listening to songs that I have literally always thought of as stancy breakup songs: omg this is just like episode 6 😭😭😭😭😭😭

[queer-reader-07]

coffee theory and the disparaging of aziraphale’s character

ok y’all buckle up, we’re finally talking about why coffee theory not only disparages aziraphale’s character but would cheapen the story.

this is a meta i’ve been trying to write for ages now because i know i have Thoughts but trying to communicate them in a coherent and not passive aggressive way is… difficult to say the least.

i have a few main points i’m gonna touch on in this post:

1) why coffee theory disparages aziraphale’s character and removes him of his agency

2) why it would cheapen the story

3) how it underestimates neil’s talent as a writer

4) why the implications of it irk me

ok. let’s get into this.

firstly, a run down of coffee theory for anyone who’s managed to miss it. coffee theory basically states that the metatron drugged/manipulated the coffee he gave aziraphale such that the coffee was what led to aziraphale making the decision to go to heaven. (i.e. he wasn’t himself, he was under the influence and that’s why he did what he did)

why coffee theory disparages aziraphale’s character and removes him of his agency

look. i understand that aziraphale’s decision to go to heaven and take up the position of supreme archangel hurt. i understand that a lot of y’all were angry at him, and many of y’all still are angry with his decision. that is so totally valid and i’m not saying you’re wrong for being upset.

but what i do have to say is this: you can be angry at him while simultaneously acknowledging that his decision makes sense in the context of his character. those two truths can coexist without contradiction.

i think that a lot of people (myself included) have this unconscious tendency to view characters through our own warped perceptions of them rather than their actual character. like we all have our own headcanons about the characters and media we enjoy, but sometimes they get away from us and we start projecting complete headcanon onto real actual canon plot.

so let’s talk canon for a minute. the show has shown us time and time again that aziraphale fundamentally believes Heaven is good. he knows the angels are mean or bad sometimes but he thinks that capital H Heaven is good. that God’s plan is good. he believes that being an angel makes you good.

“i know the angel you were.” “you’re a demon you lied.” “you’re the bad guys.” “we’re hereditary enemies” “there is no our side”. aziraphale believes that being an angel and being on the side of Heaven is what makes you good. yes he knows crowley is good but aziraphale thinks it’s because of his past status as an angel. that it’s in spite of his demonic nature.

aziraphale believes that with the help of someone good (properly good, not pretend-y good) Heaven can be perfect and good and share that goodness with humanity. and he’s been given the opportunity to do that, alongside crowley no less!

aziraphale doesn’t fully understand how corrupt Heaven truly is. and nobody can get that across to him. not even crowley. miscommunication is an issue between them, yes. but it’s not the only issue. aziraphale fundamentally believes in Heaven, and crowley does not.

so of course aziraphale chose going to Heaven and being in charge because now he can truly enact change. his decision makes so. much. sense.

and coffee theory? coffee theory would strip aziraphale of all his depth and complexity as a character. it would say “yeah he has this long history of being hurt by this institution but his faith in it is so strong that he was willing to leave the one being he loved most in the universe behind if it meant fixing the institution and creating a safe future for him and his lover. but actually he just got drugged lol.” like. how utterly disappointing would that be? it strips him of his agency, it strips him of his complexity, it makes him boring. and boring is one of the worst things a character can be.

aziraphale is allowed to be a complex character. he’s allowed to make decisions you don’t like. in fact i think he should. that’s what happens in stories. especially in good ones. characters make decisions you don’t like all the time but what matters is if the decision makes sense. and aziraphale’s decision makes all the sense. no matter how upset it made you, it checks out.

why it would cheapen the story

look me in the eyes when i say this: most of y’all would probably hate coffee theory in practice because it is such a cop out plot twist.

coffee theory fundamentally disallows complexity to aziraphale’s decision to leave earth. it makes it a “oh no he was drugged!” situation instead of a “he has a lot of shit to work through and he’s hurting and the being he loves is hurting and the world is gonna end and he needs to work on himself before he can save the world properly.” situation.

coffee theory is bred out of the knee jerk instinct to say aziraphale was completely wrong and crowley was right and “i need to explain away aziraphale’s decision because he would never hurt crowley!!!”

y’all. i love aziraphale, do not get me wrong. but have we been watching the same show? aziraphale has hurt crowley, multiple times. he’s said many hurtful things. and it all comes back to the same reason: he believes Heaven and angels are good, and demons and Hell are bad.

it’s all connected. and i want to see the show acknowledge all of that. push it to the surface and let them confront it all. not brush away the hurt with some cheap “he was drugged!” plot twist. it’s boring and disappointing.

how it underestimates neil’s talent as a writer

neil is a good writer. i’m not gonna entertain arguments about this, if you like good omens you like neil’s writing. (and i highly suggest you read his other novels). and if there’s one thing i’ve found in my time reading neil’s books it’s that everything is intentional.

how much time does this fandom spend dissecting every single frame of the show because we know nothing is accidental? that is not a good omens specific thing, it’s in all of neil’s works (at least the ones i’ve read). neil is incredibly intentional in what he does, and in my experience he doesn’t rely on cheap plot twists.

he can plot twist the ever living daylights out of you but it will never be a cheap cop out like “he was drugged!” and acting like coffee theory is actually plausible is frankly an underestimation of what neil is capable of as a writer.

why the implications of it irk me

can we all just agree that the fandom likes crowley more? and that whenever aziraphale does anything slightly complex it’s often times either met with “oh nonono here’s this reason that doesn’t allow him any complexity” or “i hate him!!!! (also doesn’t allow complexity)”

you can adore crowley. i adore him too, i relate to him very deeply. but i love aziraphale too and i’m kind of tired of how frequent the aziraphale slander is.

and coffee theory, if i’m being honest, feels very much like y’all just can’t handle aziraphle being anything more than “silly little gay angel running the bookshop”. it feels like people just can’t handle the fact that he has his own motivations and feelings and that he truly thinks he’s doing the right thing.

and it’s to the point that you need to convince yourself he was DRUGGED so that you can accept his decisions?? y’all. did we watch the same show?

[beastsovrevelation]

The main reason why my hatred towards AziraCrow is so vivid, and so explosive, is because I can't fucking escape it. It's everywhere. You can save zero related content on Pinterest, if you're in the Good Omens space, the algorithm will shove it down your throat. If you follow Good Omens related blogs on Tumblr, it's almost guaranteed they'll post AziraCrow. Being in the Good Omens fandom and disliking AziraCrow is like looking for breadcrumbs in a cockroach infested basement. And, blacklisting the tag doesn't work, because completely unretaled content will be tagged, so you'll see nothing. I'm sick of seeing something I hate, so I'm grouchy and outspoken about it.

Besides, if you like Good Omens, everyone will assume you ship AziraCrow, and I don't want to be perceived that way.