#so Aziraphale NEEDS to be back in heavens good graces

[thesaintofnevergettingitright]

Wait. Hold on. I just finished my second watch of season two and I have a theory…

I think Aziraphale knew he fucked up before he ever got on that elevator.

HEAR ME OUT!

I think the moment that he heard that his big project would be the Second Coming, he instantly realized Crowley was right. As soon as the Metatron mentions the Second Coming, Aziraphale looks directly to Crowley with what I think is very-well-concealed panic. I don’t think that was a wistful gaze at what-might’ve-been. I think that was an instinctive entreaty for help from the person he trusts most in the world, followed by the immediate realization that he can’t ask for Crowley for help without letting the Metatron know something’s wrong.

Because Aziraphale KNOWS that the Second Coming is just a different flavor of Armageddon, it’s literally the rapture. There’s no planet where our boy has changed so much that he’d be willing to bring about the end of humanity, and the fact that he didn’t object to the idea instantly is important. To me, it means that Aziraphale must’ve made a split-second decision to play along. He didn’t have time to tell Crowley what was wrong, and even if he could’ve, he didn’t have enough information to put a stop to it.

Basically, I think that in the moments after the Metatron mentioned the Second Coming Aziraphale realized several things in quick succession

Crowley was right.

He and Crowley were going to have to save the world again.

If they were going to stop another apocalypse, they needed to know what they were up against.

The only way to know was to have a man on the inside.

There wasn’t time to tell Crowley any of it.

Now the question is, how does Aziraphale let Crowley know what’s going on?? Because he can’t stop Armageddon 2 (Electric Bugaloo) by himself.

[violet-witch-6]

Gonna be real, my first time watching THAT scene I honestly wasn’t sure how they were ever gonna patch things up because I can’t even imagine the pain of standing in Crowley’s place after 6,000 years of loving someone in silence, trying to show them who you are at every opportunity, painstakingly chipping away at the delusion they’ve bought into since the beginning (more than you ever did) in order to show them the truth—to show them who you are (who the two of you could be together) —and then just as you’ve finally worked up the courage to lay it all out there and toss the dice hoping (with what, for the first time, you’re starting to believe are less than doomed odds) that they’ll love you back and that it will be enough—only for all of it to be dragged out from under you because they look you in the eye and all but tell you that they never understood you at all. They weren’t listening. And, sure they want what you want (to be together), they love you back (still unspoken but legible in the way they glow at the thought that they might still save you) (as if you need saving) (as if you’d want it)—but not as you are. They think the change they ask of you would be received as a grace and the betrayal of that is gut wrenching in a way that no flat out rejection could be, I think. If I were Crowley, I can’t imagine how I’d come back from that.

But then I watched the scene again. The moments after that betrayal. Once Crowley’s put his glasses back on, raised his defenses and sounded the retreat. I wondered, watching the scene again, how it could ever reach the point where the kiss made sense when they were already so torn apart. But the thing is that no matter how wrong Aziraphale was to want things to go back to the “way they were”, everything that led him to that conclusion comes from the thing Crowley loves most about him: his goodness. Aziraphale is good in a way that heaven is not, and Crowley knows that, but Aziraphale still hasn’t learned that lesson. He wants so desperately still to believe in god and heaven and the ineffable plan and even though it’s that desire that’s led him to hurt Crowley, I don’t think Crowley can completely begrudge him. By the time Crowley’s walking out of the book shop, the betrayal has already faded—not gone, but less than when compared to his sadness for Aziraphale and what his angel is going to go through when heaven lets him down (again)—assuming that it doesn’t just break him.

And the kiss—that fucking kiss (be still my beating heart)—that was Crowley planting a seed. “I know better than you do” he says and he does because Crowley has always been more honest with himself than Mr. “Master class in self delusion” A. Z. Fell. Aziraphale is about to be more alone and more lost than he has been in 6,000 years, so Crowley needed to make 100% clear to him where solid ground was. Aziraphale won’t be able to rationalize this away or hide behind propriety because it can only mean one thing and that is that he is in love with a demon whose on his own side with no interest in ever rejoining the heavenly host because heaven is not the epitome of goodness or love that he so desperately wants to believe it is. It’s not even capable of being that—no matter how hard Aziraphale tries to bend it back into what he thinks is it’s natural shape (because isn’t that what he wants so desperately to do as chief archangel? To make heaven the place he’s always thought it was?). Crowley really said “whatever you do next, do it knowing I love you”. He said “I’m done letting you ignore this.” And I get it. Cards on the table means cards on the table. No more half measures no more dancing around it—any of it. If Aziraphale wants to walk into the belly of the beast, then the least Crowley can do is make sure he’s doing it with his eyes wide open.

[aziraphales-library]

Hey, yall do super cool work, thank you for everything yall do <3

I was wondering if you could find any BPD Crowley fics? It isn’t have to be specifically centric, but just written with that headcanon in mind/referenced/mentioned, just about anything that mentions it 😅😅😅 Original universe if possible

tysm again for everything you do, I've been using your blog for fic recs for a WHILE now, super super useful and wonderful :]

Hello! While compiling this list I realised that a couple of these fics are yours, but I've added them for completeness and so others can enjoy them. Here are some fics in which Crowley has (or at least is implied to have) borderline personality disorder...

In This Twilight, How Dare You Speak Of Grace by cosmickaiju (T)

They can't bear to hear his pity. Can't bear the thought of Aziraphale thinking they're just like any other demon.

My World Can't Turn Without You by LvndrLemonade (M)

Crowley is convinced he's been abandoned for good, and doesn't see the point in going on. Upstairs in Heaven, Aziraphale's plans to stop the Second Coming are hastily interrupted by a sudden feeling of terrible dread.

Delicate by midnightdragons (T)

Aziraphale tries to comfort Crowley after waking him from a nightmare.

i was born sick (but i love it) by sonderrrr (T)

After he regains his breath, he falters three words. Three words that Crowley had prayed he would never have to hear again. Because it meant he was wrong. “I forgive you.” What was he being forgiven for? Initiating a kiss that was unwarranted? Not going with his Angel? Being a demon? Being unlovable? Sighing, Crowley shakes his head and starts for the door. “Don’t bother.”

The Great (not) Gatsby by luckythirt33n, LvndrLemonade (G)

Can't repeat the past? ...of course you can! Ever since being assigned to the states, Crowley has been, admittedly, lonely. He hosts grand, sinful, parties under an alter ego, so he can get Hell of his back, and simply bides his time to get back home. That changes when Aziraphale joins him in the United States, sent on a vague mission from Heaven to 'check in on things.' Though, their newfound time together isn't as simple as it should be; Crowley has gotten into some political hot-water with activity in his overwhelming free time, and the sudden appearance of a mystery man may be what can solidify a rather scandalous article that's bound to hit the front covers of every newspaper in the nation. Aziraphale and Crowley will have to balance want with need, thousands of years of pining finally bubbling to the surface. Will they be able to get their happy ending *and* keep each other safe?

Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it by mr_clairdycat (T)

"That said, this angel and this demon love each other in the way someone who loves God does, that much is objective. Their love is patient and kind, it doesn't insist in its own way, it is not irritable or resentful, nor does it rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. That’s how it truly is; their love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Most importantly, however, it will never end. Does not matter whether everyone in the universe isagainst it, they will persevere till the end of their never-ending life. That considered, who could’ve known if God was truly against it in the first place, if this was a test, if this was their plan. But maybe, just maybe it is useless to ponder at such question. Cause that’s what these two are: indescribable, unimaginable, forbidden, wonderful. They are just ineffable."

- Mod D

[zionworkzs]

Okay, but I need to talk about Good Omens and The Sound of Music.

First of all, I’m genuinely obsessed with it being explicitly canon that The Sound of Music exists in the GO universe and is, for some reason, God’s favorite movie. Neil says here that Heaven misses the point of the movie/musical, but I find it incredibly fascinating that Aziraphale outwardly despises it. 

Brief summary of The Sound of Music incoming as well as some really interesting parallels:

So we've got Julie Andrews playing Maria, who is studying to become a nun in an abbey in Salzburg. Problem is, she isn't the best nun, and is often late to chapel and just isn't the shining beacon of holiness that the rest of the nuns expect her to be.

In response to this, the Reverend Mother of the abbey decides to send Maria to live with sexy widower Georg von Trapp, a navy captain who desperately needs help with his seven children. The Captain is a bit of a hard-ass since the death of his wife, and has been treating his kids like little soldiers as well as banning music from the house.

The 7 kids are rambunctious and make things difficult for Maria at first. But one night, a thunderstorm scares them, and they run to Maria for comfort. The kids realize that Maria is really fun, and then later, when their dad is off to Vienna, the kids and Maria end up running around Salzburg singing, dancing, climbing trees, and having a blast.

When the Captain comes home and hears about this, he sends Maria away. But then he overhears the children singing a song Maria taught them and he gets all emo and remembers how much music meant to him and his late wife. He asks Maria to stay after hearing the song, telling her she's brought joy back to their house.

And oops, Maria and the Captain are falling for each other, but the Captain is sort of kind of dating this blonde bombshell.

There's a big fuck-off party, and the Captain and Maria dance together.

But, oh, no, Blondie saw them and can clearly tell they're in love. She tells Maria what she's seen and Maria is freaking out cause she's just realized she's in love.

Mentally, my girl Maria is going through a lot. She thinks she’s disappointed God by falling in love when she was supposed to be doing a job. She feels scared by the depth of her feelings and because of all these emotions, she runs away. Back to the Abbey. Back to presumed safety.

Mother Superior figures out what happened real quick and tells Maria that she isn’t wrong for falling in love. She sends her back to the Von Trapps, and it's such a great scene. If you wanna watch, I included a link below.

Maria goes back, and the kids are elated and she and the Captain confess their feelings (and oh my god, don't even get me started on the lyrics to the song they sing to each other while confessing, Something Good).

(I’m unwell.)

So that's the Sound of Music. There's a subplot going on with WW2 and the Captain being pressured to join the Nazi regime (which he is very against). King, we love him.

I pointed out some obvious parallels, but I'd also like to pull some random thoughts together here:

Mother Superior (God) is the one that sends Maria (Aziraphale) to help the Von Trapps (humans) in the first place.

Maria (Aziraphale) extends grace and patience with the children (humans) and refuses to give up on them, even going so far as to disobey their father by letting them fuck around and be kids (going against God's wishes and giving humans the flaming sword).

Mother Superior (God) also sends Maria (Aziraphale) back to the Von Trapps after realizing that Maria (Aziraphale) is in love with the Captain (Crowley).

Here's to hoping we see God telling Azi that loving a demon is chill and he should go back to earth in S3.

Overall, it's incredibly amusing to me that Aziraphale, our Aziraphale, doesn't like The Sound of Music, with the main plot being about a woman who choses love over religious obligations and a man who rejects an authoritarian regime so that he might make his own way in the world.

Maybe Aziraphale recognizes the parallels and is in denial. Or maybe he just prefers Sondheim...

[cobragardens]

God Is a Creepy-Ass Meta Mfer:

A Good Omens Essay

This essay features fan theory and speculation. DO NOT TAG NEIL GAIMAN IN ANY POST THAT INCLUDES OR REFERENCES THIS ONE.

The rest of this depends on accepting the premise that God's Plan is not always inscrutable in hindsight, i.e., that parts of that Plan can be discerned or identified as such once they have happened, even if the next moves of the Plan and its ultimate Purpose remain ineffable.

If you are willing to accept that premise, then I suggest we can conclude with reasonable certainty that Thesis Statement 1: Aziraphale's act of giving Adam the First Man the flaming sword is part of God's Plan, and so was Eve and Adam eating the Fruit.

The argument for the latter has been in circulation making even the beardiest of old Christian men scratch their heads for centuries, and in Good Omens, Crowley is the first being ever to make it:

The presence of the Tree in the Garden placed by an omnipotent being with literally infinite orchard space and security technology is a clear indication that God intends humans to interact with the Tree and sets humans up in a divine entrapment operation, giving God the opportunity to curse humanity and evict them from the Garden.

Diversion onto Thesis Statement 2 bc the Essayist Got Distracted: This establishes both the Bible and Good Omens as works of literature in the cosmic horror genre (not that Good Omens doesn't do plenty of its own work in so establishing itself).

In both these stories God is a being beyond humanity's understanding, functionally omniscient and omnipotent, who first creates and then interferes with humanity for unknown reasons and who does not necessarily have humanity's best interests in mind at any point. His/er reasoning and objectives for humanity are opaque, and S/he manipulates circumstances to create excuses to do humanity as a species and sometimes specific humans harm.

If you're not already familiar, go read all the shit God curses humans with when Eve and Adam snack on the Tree's Fruit. It's frighteningly cruel, if not outright psychopathic. So is God's behavior the Book of Job, His demand that Abraham sacrifice Isaac, Mosaic Law, and the sacrifice of His/er Son. Human lives are no more significant to God than the lives of ants are to humans. This whole history of Earth? It may not even be about us. Our entire species' history may just be part of the backdrop to something else, like two angels falling in love and reuniting Heaven and Hell, or like raccoons. It could all be about the raccoons. Who knows! All of this is absolutely 100% pure undiluted cosmic horror.

Right, okay, so back to Thesis 1: In Good Omens, Aziraphale's gift to the first man of the flaming sword is an objective God wants. Here's my chain of reasoning:

The Eating of the Fruit and God's punishment were both objectives of God. See above.

2. Once those objectives had been accomplished, humankind would not have survived outside the Garden of Eden without the sword. They literally would not exist at all.

Adam the First has to kill the lion, either to keep it from killing him and Eve or to keep him and Eve from starving. No flaming sword = no humanity.

3. We know "no humanity" is not God's Plan, because--

--God says her Plan is Armageddon and the Second Coming in 6,000 years. So humanity needs to exist for either of those to occur (or for there to be any reason for adventures about averting them to occur). And God does a whole Crucifixion and Resurrection of His/er Son. So God wants humanity around and is even prepared to welcome them back into His/er grace, providing they meet certain conditions.

4. We know God is not displeased about Aziraphale's gift of the sword to humans because God asks Aziraphale about the sword, and Aziraphale lies and says he's lost it, and God, who is omniscient and therefore knows this to be a lie and knows exactly where the sword is, lets the entire thing pass unremarked. (More on this anon.)

5. It is not a reach too far to suspect this of God. She tells us Herself that she is a trickster and that we can't trust her not to deceive us:

She also tells us

i. The universe is a game she is playing for her own amusement:

🎵cosmic horror alerrrrrrrrrt!🎵🎶

ii. No one, including angels and demons, has been told the real rules of this game:

"FOR EVERYONE ELSE." Not just humans.

That's why Crowley and Aziraphale each have to wonder if they've done the right or the wrong thing: nobody's told them what the rules are. Aziraphale even thinks that Crowley's temptation of Eve is "all part of the Plan," i.e, that Crowley did the right thing by doing the wrong one. They have no way to tell, and it may be both right and wrong at the same time. (Wrestling with impossible moral conundra raised by a brief look into a story happening on a much greater level than your own? You could be suffering from our old pal Thesis 2: Good Omens is cosmic horror!)

So Aziraphale's Promethean gift to humanity was one of God's objectives, just as cursing humans and yeeting them out of the Garden with the knowledge of Good and Evil and maybe a couple apple seeds in hand was His/er objective.

BONUS! Thesis 3: So why does God bring up Aziraphale's misappropriation of the sword at all? To show us, the audience, that Aziraphale lied to Her and that his gifting of the sword to Adam is part of Her Plan.

Remember from her whole deal with the Tree: God likes to set up situations so that She can react to them. Here she lampshades her awareness of what Aziraphale has done, listens to him lie to Her about it, and then very pointedly does nothing in response to that. She wants everyone watching--i.e., Aziraphale and us--to note that she has noticed the transfer of the sword and is not displeased by it and has noticed the lie and is not going to do anything about that either.

Remember as well, God is the one controlling the narrative we see in S1 of Good Omens. She introduces and concludes the story, and she narrates the scenes of the baby-swap. She's in control of which scenes we see and the order in which we see them. Since she is the one who asked Aziraphale the question about the sword, she's also responsible for this scene's existence.

So why do I think this scene is meant for us and not Aziraphale? Two reasons. Firstly, the conversation with God doesn't do Aziraphale any good. He worries about eventually getting in trouble about the sword until 2019, around 6,000 years later.

God is both omniscient and omnipotent, so it's not possible that She failed to communicate to Aziraphale in such a way that would ease his anxiety. Therefore the conversation was not for his benefit. Again, she's omniscient, so it wasn't for Her benefit either. That leaves the only other party to this conversation: us. The audience.

The next obvious question is, Why does God want us to know that Aziraphale's gift of the flaming sword was both of his free will and part of Her Plan?

I don't know. But I think it may become important, and here is where we delve into hypothesis territory: I think Good Omens is going metafictional. I mean this in a Doki Doki Literature Club, Black Mirror: Bandersnatch way: God, the character in Good Omens, is telling us, the audience, a story.

This metafictional aspect has been with us the whole time---more precisely since 01:13 of S1E1, when God switches from third-person to first-person and addresses us the viewers directly:

And there are several more metafictional; notes in S1 and S2 that I've found so far:

Season 1

That giant eyeball up there floating in space with a bunch of arcane shit around it is a reference to the opening credits sequence of The Twilight Zone, a metafictional show in which an omniscient narrator introduces and concludes each story by addressing the audience directly.

S1E1 27:20

Season 2

1. Maggie and Nina are fictional characters, but the characters share their names with actors Maggie Service and Nina Sosanya.

2. The final credits sequence, with the split screen showing Crowley on one side and Aziraphale on the other, references David Tennant and Michael Sheen's previous/simultaneous lockdown tv series project, Staged! which is intensely metafictional and in which Tennant and Sheen play characters based on themselves and with their names.

3. Sloppy plot synopsis or something more sinister?

4. An interviewer points out that Good Omens references Doctor Who as an extant concern in-universe, which obviously stars David Tennant in the past and currently.

If you find more, please drop them in the comments!

We the audience, are meant to understand ourselves and our reality as being indirectly involved in this story. And God wants us to know 1) that Aziraphale lied to Her about giving away the sword, knowing it was futile, and 2) that his gift of the flaming sword was part of Her Plan. The former is a major character note, and probably a foreshadowing one; but I have no guesses about God's purpose in showing us that the gift of the flaming sword was also to Plan except that whatever it is will probably make me dislike Her approach to parenting even more than I already do.

What I do love about this though is that it suggests that Crowley and Aziraphale both did the right thing by doing the wrong one, i.e. achieved a kind of Schroedinger's obedience, which is nice and disturbing and surprise! pretty cosmic horror. More sweetly, though, it suggests that the two foundational gifts to humanity from the divine were motivated by Crowley's low-effort mischief and Aziraphale's kindheartedness, which is lovely to think about.

DO NOT TAG NEIL GAIMAN IN ANY POST THAT INCLUDES OR REFERENCES THIS ESSAY.

[eiressofinspirationwrites]

Of Heaven and Hell - Traitorous Heart

Pairing: Crowley x Female OC/Reader x Aziraphale

Word Count: 1381

Warning: Spoilers ahead for Good Omens Season 2 Episode 6.

Description: Aziraphale makes a decision that will change the lives of the ones he loves most.

Note: This fic is written from the second person POV but features a female Half-Demon/Half-Angel OC of mine from this one-shot I wrote several years ago.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Aziraphale!" The angel heard the voice of his partner before they burst through the doors of the bookshop.

"Lia, you're alright," Aziraphale breathed a sigh of relief seeing you already up and around after the injury you'd sustained during the demon's attack on the bookshop. Crowley had whisked you away to the home the three of you shared a few blocks over the second the demons were gone. You'd been in dire need of healing and rest you wouldn't have gotten in the chaos surrounding Gabriel and Beezelbub's revealed tryst. You of course had insisted Crowley return to Aziraphale's side the second you were patched up, "I have the most wonderful news."

"Zira," the crack in your voice made Aziraphale's heart stutter. He hadn't heard that sound from you in decades not since... no he couldn't bare to dredge up that memory, "Please don't do this."

Aziraphale realized Crowley must have already told you what happened between them. 

"You can come with me," Aziraphale took a step towards you, and his face momentarily crumpled when you fell back a step in response and he saw the tears threatening to spill down your face, "The Metatron promised things would be different with me in charge. He told me that Crowley would be welcomed back and you would be permitted entry. We just have to convince Crowley-" 

"You honestly believe that after everything the angels have put me through, put us through they'd just let a demon and a hybrid monstrosity walk right into their ranks with open arms?" you spat, every ounce of disdain and disgust you held against Heaven dripped from your voice like acid, "Do you not remember what they did to me? How they experimented on me? How they fucking hunted me like an animal for centuries because my parents were an angel and a demon? How they hunted and hated a child simply for being born?"

"It will be different now," Aziraphale's eyes pleaded with you, "I'll make things different." 

"You honestly believe you can change a system that has quite literally been like this since the dawn of time?" Aziraphale hated the look in your eyes. The doubt and pain in them was a knife in his chest, "Zi, Crowley was cast out simply for asking questions. What makes you think they will welcome me into their sterile white paradise? I'm an abomination, remember? I'm below the demons in Heaven's hierarchy of trash."

"Please, Azalia," Aziraphale stepped forward to take your hands in his, and this time you let him, "I know they have hurt you. I was the one that pulled you out of that prison the angels locked you up in to do those experiments. I helped Crowley nurse you back to health. I may not have loved you as long as Crowley has but I love you just as much. You know that. Please tell me you know that." 

"I do," you nodded.

"Good," Aziraphale brought a hand up to wipe away the tears now running freely down your cheeks. A small smile graced his lips as you leaned into his touch, your eyes closed, "I wouldn't have proposed this if I thought for a second they would hurt you. I will never let them lay a hand on you in Heaven."

"They don't have to lay a hand on me to hurt me," you whispered and opened your eyes to meet his, "Please, Aziraphale. We've worked so hard for the life we've made here. Why do you want to give it up? We're free here. Finally free after centuries of hiding who we are. In Heaven, there will be rules and expectations even you can't change."

"Azalia," Azirphale started but you cut him off. 

"I know you believe in Heaven. That you believe they can change," you took the hand he held to your face in yours and squeezed it gently as you lowered it, "I wish I could believe in that as much as you do."

"Lia," it was Aziraphale's turn for his voice to crack, "Don't do this. I can't lose you, too." 

"I'm sorry Aziraphale," you let your hands fall from his and began to back away, "I love you so much, but if you go back to Heaven... I can't go with you. Not after everything they've put all of us through. Not just me but you and Crowley. I know you can't see it yet, but Heaven has victimized you, too, and I can't forgive any of it."

Aziraphale was speechless as he watched you turn your back on him and walk for the door just like Crowley had. Hope fluttered in his chest as you paused upon the threshold of the shop. 

"If you change your mind about all of this madness with Heaven," you didn't so much as turn your head as you spoke instead keeping your eyes fixed on the door as you held it, "You know where to find us."  

Not me. Us. 

As you pushed your way out of the bookshop and disappeared into the morning crowds, it hit Aziraphale that he'd lost both of you. You and Crowley chose Earth and each other over him. If the Metatron hadn't walked in seconds after the doors swung shut on your departure, Aziraphale would have fallen apart. He still might. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As you walked away from the bookshop and your partner inside, it felt like you were being burned alive from the inside out by holy water and hellfire all over again. That had nearly killed you nearly 5 decades ago. This might as well. 

You might have fallen apart in the middle of the street if you hadn't found your other partner waiting down the block from the shop by his car. The second you were within arms reach of Crowley, he opened his arms to you. 

A sob escaped your lips as you buried your face into his chest. The familiar scent of him was an immediate comfort as he wrapped his arms around you and rubbed circles on your back. 

"I'm sorry, love," Crowley muttered into your hair before he rested his chin atop your head. He wasn't usually one for public displays of affection but today he made the exception. 

"I tried," you whimpered, your face still buried in his shirt. 

"I knew you would," you could hear the sad smile in Crowley's words. 

Neither of you said anything more or moved for several minutes. Not until you felt Crowley tense. 

You turned away from Crowley enough to face back towards the bookshop but your partner kept you tucked close under his arm. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw Aziraphale exiting the bookshop with the Metatron. 

Aziraphale hesitated by the doors of the lift that would take him back to Heaven. Both you and Crowley held your breath as the angel you both loved so passionately stood on the threshold of a decision that would change your lives forever. If the thoughts of two people alone had the power to change the will of another, Aziraphale never would have taken that final step away from his partners.

"Let's go home," Crowley whispered after the doors to Heaven closed on the pair of angels. 

He was the first to move and ushered you around the Bentley towards the passenger side. He kept his arm around you as he opened the door and only broke contact when you were seated inside the car. 

Your thoughts drifted away from the Bentley as Crowley started the car and pulled away into the street to drive to the home you had once shared with the two loves of your life. 

Now where it had once been three it would only be two hearts in that home. 

You wanted to hate Aziraphale for forcing you to choose like this. You wanted to hate him for being blinded by Heaven and not seeing the truth in why you and Crowley couldn't go. You wanted to hate him for leaving both of you. You wanted to hate him for it all so badly but your traitorous heart wouldn't let you.

You'd loved the Angel of the Eastern Gate so much and for so long it wasn't likely the hurt of today would dim that any time soon.

[inevitably-ineffable-husbands]

Hello! I'm relatively new to the GO fandom, and I've never read a fic yet and need some comfort pleeeeease 😭 hoping for something soft and cosy

Hey Nonny!

Ahhhhh, you're missing out for sure!! :D

Ah, I don't usually do specific lists for the GO Fandom, but this one was easy enough to do a quick tag search of my bookmarks!

All of these are Pre-S2, as I have yet to read S2 fics! :)

Enjoy! And as usual with my recs, feel free to suggest your own!

HURT/COMFORT (Good Omens)

anywhere i go you go, my dear by chamaenerion (G, 1,533 w., 1 Ch. || Post Armageddon’t, Panic Attacks, POV Aziraphale, Touching, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Protective Crowley, Anxious Crowley, Love Confessions, Snake Crowley, Clingy Crowley) – After the Apocalypse-that-wasn't, Crowley is reluctant to leave Aziraphale's side.

for your eyes only by punkenigma (T, 2,501 w., 1 Ch. || Post-Armageddon’t, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Getting Together, Love / Drunk Confessions, 6000 Year Slow Burn, Insecure / Worried / Scared Crowley, Fear of Heartbreak) – Crowley was forced to face two inalienable truths: One, a world without Aziraphale was simply not a world worth imagining and even less so worth experiencing. Two, Crowley’s feelings for Aziraphale had changed dramatically since Armageddon." Alt Title: the one where Crowley can't keep it bottled in any longer.

Where Heaven Begins by sussexbound (M, 2,515 w., 1 Ch. || Pining Crowley, Soft Idiots, Emotional Love Making, Hurt/Comfort, Crowley Has Healing Powers, Kissing, Bed Sharing, Crowley POV) – Aziraphale bleeds. Is bleeding. He’s wearing human skin, after all.

In the (Second) Beginning by cherryfeather (M, 2,661 w., 1 Ch. || Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Confessions, Soft Crowley, POV Aziraphale, Post-Canon, First Kiss, Wings) – Aziraphale realizes that Crowley's been saying something rather loudly for a week.

It's Not the Fall that Kills You by Mitsuhachi (G, 3,442 w., 1 Ch. || Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Angst With Happy Ending, Fall From Grace) – "Oh Aziraphale," the figure inclined its blank face like a mother reprimanding an errant but beloved child. "You have been too long alone. The Serpent's lies suffice to cloud even the judgement of one of Our Virtues. We should have expected this." A glowing hand was extended towards Aziraphale, flickering like flame in the faint breeze. "Will you not repent?"

In Which Crowley Is a Guardian Demon and Aziraphale Is, in His Own Way, a Guardian Angel by easybeak (NR [T], 3,926 w., 1 Ch. || Pre-Apocalypse, Accidental Love Confessions, Crying, Protective Aziraphale, Idiots in Love, Drunk Crowley, Soft Crowley, Pining Crowley, Inner Turmoil, Letters, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Breakdown, Self-Loathing, Light Angst) – Crowley has known Aziraphale as far back as he can remember. Of course, he's loved his angel almost that long, too. It's hard not to, when he looks up at him with those big, blue puppy dog eyes and practically begs for it... he's been doing little favors for him forever, keeping him safe. And some point along the way, he fell in love. Who could blame him? No secret can last forever, though. All Crowley can hope for is that Aziraphale won't resent him for it.

Réveillon by Big_Edies_Sun_Hat (T, 6,431 w., 3 Ch. || Christmas Eve, Angst, Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship, Established Relationship, International Travel, Moments in Time, Historical / Biblical Interpretation) – After a gloomy history with Christmas, Aziraphale shows Crowley how he has learned to seek out the good in it by traveling around the world on Christmas Eve. Highlights include: the Annunciation; potholes; international teleportation; peace and hope; arson; Lupe gets a doll of her very own.

Exposed by LollipopCop (E, 8,867 w., 2 Ch. || Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, First Kiss, First Time, Making Out, Wings, Love Confessions, Virgin Crowley, Angst with Happy Ending) – In which Gabriel can feel how much Aziraphale loves Crowley, and outs him.

In Muted Tone by sobakasu & sssnakelady (T, 9,386 w., 2 Ch. || Post-Apocalypse, Crowley POV, Heavy Pining, Emotional Turmoil, Awkward Crowley, Shy Crowley, Fluff and Anget, Happy Ending, Moving in Together, Love Confessions, Poetry, Panic Attacks, Drinking to Cope, Domestic Fluff, Kissing, Hurt/Comfort) – It is roughly ten thirty PM on a Saturday night. The night that Armageddon didn’t. They are three bottles of wine in and Aziraphale is rambling.

wherever you are, i'll come to you by mutalune (T, 11,375 w., 6 Ch. || Post-Apocalypse, Hurt/Comfort, Fallen Angel Aziraphale, Aziraphale Loves Crowley, Crowley Tries to Help, Slight Angst, Petty Demonic Aziraphale) – “Now that I’m no longer beholden to a rather arbitrary moral code, I have to ask: Do you pay taxes? Actually, more importantly, do you think I can stop paying taxes now? That seems like a sufficiently demonic thing to do. Refusing to do my civic duty and whatnot. Quite devious, I’d argue.” This was, in hindsight, not the most sensitive way of breaking the news.

You Never Had A Heart by HotCrossPigeon (T, 12,983 w., 3 Ch. || Hurt Aziraphale, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Blood/Injury, Scared/Panicking Crowley, Idiots in Love, Caring Crowley, Aziraphale Whump, Demonic Traps, BAMF Aziraphale, Hugs, Soft Crowley, Discorporation, Caring/Protective Crowley, Humour, Angst with Happy Ending, Crowley Rescues Aziraphale, Bad Acting, Knife Wounds, Traumatized Crowley, First Kiss, Protective Aziraphale, Hurt Crowley) – Aziraphale finds himself unwittingly ensnared in a demonic trap. Unfortunately for a panicking Crowley, there’s only one way to get the angel out of it. Part 6 of Hurt!Aziraphale Stories

The Nice and Accurate Love Story of A. J. Crowley and A. Z. Fell by SealandRocks (E, 16,353 w., 1 Ch. || Pining Crowley, Implied Mutual Pining, Emotional Love Making, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, POV Crowley, Jealous Crowley, Crowley’s Plants, Kissing as Healing, Moments in Time, The Arrangement, Love Confessions, Bottom Crowley, Gentle Aziraphale, Slow Burn, Falling in Love, Crowley is Bad at Feelings, First Kiss/Time, Anal Sex / Fingering, Wings / Wing Kink, Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Kissing in the Rain, Symbolism, Historical References) – Crowley and Aziraphale have been dancing around each other since the beginning. From Eden to London, it eventually becomes very hard to avoid the only other immortal around. And after so many centuries, having a physically body becomes a bit uncomfortable. Crowley is left to wonder what it is about Aziraphale that helps ease the ache in his soul. It would only take him 6000 years to figure out that it was rooted in something deeper all along. Part 1 of Love Stories for the Oblivious

Souls In Creation by Dragonfruit112 (NR [M], 23,110 w., 6 Ch. || Aziraphale was Raphael, Hurt/Comfort, Angst With Happy Ending, True Angel Forms, Memory Loss/Amnesia, Seraph!Aziraphale, Cherub!Crowley, Moments of Time, Pining Aziraphale, Deaths, Disasters Through History, Whump, Taking Care of Each Other, Friendship, Mates to Friends to Mates, Bed Sharing, Sick Crowley, Healing Powers, BAMF Aziraphale) – They knew each other before the Fall. They loved each other before the Fall. They were creation's first soul mates. But the Fall changed everything, and now Aziraphale is forced to live in a world where only he remembers their shared past. Burdened by pain and grief, he hides himself under the guise of a clumsy Principality until he can make his love remember once more. Only, he doesn't know how long that'll take.

[ineffable4life]

This Petal Means I Love You

- aziracrow + flower symbolism + angst = this

- I wrote this on my notes a few days ago and posted it on tiktok, so I thought i’d post it here too :) (i have a few more)

———

It was around 1951 that Crowley first noticed the vase on Aziraphale’s windowsill, bright flowers blooming from the neck.

“Good morning Angel,” he greeted, his smile oddly genuine as his friend smiled back, an excited glint in his crystalline eyes, “New addition to the bookshop I see?”

“Ah, yes! Well, I quite liked the vase, saw it in a shop window and simply couldn’t resist.” He explained easily, motioning to the windowsill as he pranced around the room, humming the tune that was spinning on the record player. “But then I needed flowers, and thankfully for me there’s a florist just down the road- quite sweet young Felicity is, don’t think you’d like her.”

After one more moment of floating about, with Crowley watching in utter admiration, Aziraphale lifted the tone-arm off of the record and back to the side where it sat.

“What’s up dear?”

“Hm?” Crowley returned, taking a second to remember exactly where he was and why he was there. “Oh, nothing, just came to check in is all.” Then, the demon looked to the flowers, curiosity clouding his vision as it focused on the yellow roses.

Bright yellow, staring right back at him.

“The flowers. Why roses?”

For some odd reason, Aziraphale seemed confused by this question. It wasn’t often that they didn’t understand each other - six millennia of friendship does that to people - and yet this was one of those times.

Since before the beginning, Aziraphale always had reason for the things he did, never did something just because.

He started the bookshop partially because it was one of his biggest dreams, but also because heaven and earth needed an embassy and Aziraphale needed somewhere private and away from the rest of the world.

For the most part, he was a forward thinking person.

So what Crowley didn’t expect for him to say was “Well I liked them, they were the prettiest they had in the shop- well, at least at this time of year.”

It seemed like a lie. Too simple for the person Aziraphale was.

That night, Crowley went back to his apartment with books from the library on flower symbolism.

Yellow roses typically symbolised happiness, friendship and friendship.

But, on occasion, it symbolised greed.

In 1986, it was the first time (of many) that Crowley bought the angel a bouquet of flowers. White carnations, white tulips, white lotus-

Or in other words; love, hope and grace.

Aziraphale thought they were rather pretty and placed them in the vase on his windowsill.

No miracles were performed to preserve the flowers, but maybe that was the beauty of it all.

Flowers didn’t last long, but they were stunning whilst they lived.

What Crowley didn’t see was Aziraphale plucking a tulip from the bouquet and researching how to preserve it, and eventually putting it into one of his scrap books, mainly used for drawings.

After they stopped armageddon, Crowley gave Aziraphale a single flower.

A single blue iris.

The angel smiled, taking it gently into his own hands.

“A flower. Why an iris?” He asked, and Crowley was reminded of their conversation all those years ago. He smiled back.

“It means eternity.” The demon practically whispered. “Irises symbolise eternity.”

Aziraphale’s eyes glossed over, but he was able to contain his tears in favour of looking at the flower again; this time, he had a new understanding of it, and Crowley.

Safe to say a miracle was performed on that flower.

A miracle of certainty and love that the flower could never wilt.

And, on the day Aziraphale left, it was no surprise that Crowley found the iris.

A single petal had fallen onto the desk.

Eternity - their eternity - was falling apart.

And all Crowley could do was sit and watch.

[actual-changeling]

Pls, 32 and/or 18 on the 50 VAGUE ANGSTY + HURT/COMFORT DIALOGUE PROMPTS???

I love your writing, it always hurt the right way

Thank you and here you go <3

I went with 32, "I already knew I wasn't good enough". Be prepared for some self-deprecating Crowley, a very unreliable narrator, and, well, angst.

Send me a prompt!

-

"Crowley-"

"Right, no, yeah, save it, angel."

Crowley is an idiot, he's a bloody idiot who has been in love for six thousand years, been rejected almost as many times, and still has not learned his lesson. Asking questions will not get you answers; it will simply push you off whatever cliff edge you are sitting on and suck the joyful grace out of you while it's at it.

After eight months of waiting and hoping, when Aziraphale finally came back to him with violet eyes and gold-tinted lips, he couldn't have just been happy, could he? No, he followed him down every road in trying to stop the Second Coming, but the universe knows he is an optimist, and it will test him on that to destruction until he finally breaks.

Maybe the earth will be destroyed this time, maybe humanity is going to perish, but Crowley's world is one angel and always has been.

Come with me, he had pleaded again and again, arguing against every single line Aziraphale had thrown at him. Deep down, he knows running does not solve a single thing, and even after this, he will be right there by his side the second he needs him.

Crowley smiles, but it tastes bitter and metallic, and Aziraphale's eyes glow with lightning-sharp concern.

"I already knew I wasn't good enough."

Heaven, earth, it doesn't matter who gets chosen over him, just that he is never the first choice for Aziraphale while he is the only choice for Crowley. Maybe he isn't being fair, maybe Aziraphale is right to call him selfish and childish, maybe he is overestimating his own importance again.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

He is so fucking tired of 'maybe'.

"You are good enough, Crowley, whatever makes you say-"

"Aziraphale," he interrupts, molten and desperate, and here he is again, hoping like the bloody fool he is.

"I will leave now, and we both know it doesn't matter where I go, I will be there when you need me. I always am; that's what I'm good for."

The only thing I'm good for.

Maybe the earth will be destroyed, maybe it won't. His world has already collapsed.

[sonnetsterlingwritesstuff]

The Female Experience (Good Omens)

Aka My Take On The Scrapped 60s American Femme Flashback. Thanks Neil, I’ve had no peace since discovering this existed :)

Ao3 Here

Genre: Angst/ Fluff/ A Good Dose Of Social Commentary

Words: 5421

TL;DR: Heaven wants to know why the Pearly Gates are opening to more women than men. Hell is almost certain that God is playing favorites. So they send their representatives on a bit of an undercover mission to figure out what *exactly* is going on- what are women doing so much better than men?

It was the year 1965. Aziraphale found herself seated in a booth at a diner in New York, New York. She smoothed the skirt of her dress before folding her arms onto the table in front of her. It was odd , she thought, to have her legs so exposed. Normally, she’d wear trousers- but then she wasn’t normally in America, and she wasn’t normally presenting as a female. It wasn’t that she didn’t like women- it was just that the form she’d initially chosen for Earth leaned more towards presenting male, and she’d been very comfortable in it. She sort of liked this form too, though- it was so elegant . So graceful. There was an absolutely enthralling feeling that came with looking into a mirror and seeing something so beautiful . It was almost making her vain .

She’d put a good lot of research into her appearance- she needed to get a real feel for what it was to be a woman nowadays. She’d read lots of magazines, and looked at many pictures. She’d even been to the picture shows to see how it was women were presenting. From that, she had gleaned an appearance that she thought blended in rather splendidly. She was not as trim as the women in the films, but she made up for it with what she thought were some stunning curves… that were unfortunately masked by the dress she was wearing. It was such a pretty dress though. The dress itself was a milk-chocolate brown, with a straight skirt and a high neckline. It almost appeared to be made of a suede material. It cut off at the shoulders, so underneath she’d worn a sky-blue blouse with a lovely rounded collar that fell over the neck of the dress, and she’d tied a matching sky-blue bow. On her feet, she wore white mary-jane pumps, and she’d styled her peroxide-blonde hair in the beehive style that was so fashionable. She’d even changed her face to one that was a bit softer and more traditionally feminine, and she’d dabbled with makeup (taking Audrey Hepburn as a muse). She thought, at the very least, that she was very a-la-mode.

It had taken some deal of effort to get there, but she was here now- out on the town, in a lovely little diner. This was, she’d heard, the very heart of Americana. All she was missing was a ‘shake’ and some french fries- which weren’t actually french at all. They were Belgian. Aziraphale would know- she’d had some of the first back in the 1600s. But that was besides the point now. Now what she needed was to get a server to notice her so that she could order her shake and fries. It was odd- she’d been sitting here for some time now, and yet all the men and families that had walked in since she’d arrive had already been served. Perhaps the waitresses simply hadn’t seen her. She tried to get eye contact, giving a polite little wave. If the waitress thought she was rude she might continue to ignore her. Though it still didn’t seem to be doing her any good- it was almost like she wasn’t there at all.

Still, she persisted… until she saw a face that was somehow familiar . Aziraphale didn’t even need to think twice about who it was, even though she probably should. She was really getting a bit too familiar with Crowley. She blinked at the demon’s appearance- this was different for them- or, she supposed, her for the time being. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen Crowley present as female, but this was the first time Crowley had changed faces to do so in… well, ever , to Aziraphale’s recollection. It seemed that they’d gotten the same idea. Crowley sported a black turtleneck with black pants with a yellow grid-like pattern on them and black flats, her red hair curled out on the ends and held back by a headband that matched her pants. Of course, she still wore her signature glasses- it would have taken an awful lot of effort for her to change her eyes, and she’d already put in enough. She was slight, with a rather beautiful face- such soft features with beautifully high cheekbones. The rouge she wore made her lips stand out, and Aziraphale’s eyes were not the only ones lingering on them. She was stunning, and her outfit was very fashionable… but it was also so brazen . Men around the restaurant stared, some whistling… much to the dismay of their wives.

Crowley seemed to catch Aziraphale’s eye, smirking before making her way to her and sitting down across from her. What was Crowley doing here ? Aziraphale’s mission from Heaven was simple- figure out why so many more women were gaining access to Heaven than men. Given America’s cultural influence, Heaven had asked Aziraphale to do her observing there as opposed to England- which was inconvenient and a little unpleasant, but unfortunately doable. All that was to say that there was a simple explanation for why she was there. But Crowley… well, Hell must have some sort of a plan that required him to be there. She couldn’t have just followed Aziraphale, could she? Aziraphale cleared her throat for a few moments as Crowley sat down before addressing her.

“Crowley?” She checked.

“Angel.” Crowley smirked softly. “What has Heaven got you doing hanging around here ?”

“I’m on a mission.” Aziraphale lowered her voice.

“What kind of mission?” Crowley raised an amused brow.

“I really shouldn’t be disclosing that…” Aziraphale sighed, but speaking from experience she knew there was no use trying to hide anything. Crowley was good with words- she always got the answers she was after. “Heaven has me looking into why there’s so many more women than men coming through the Pearly Gates.”

“That’s funny.” Crowley chortled. “Hell’s got me here for the exact same reason.”

“Do they?” Aziraphale lit up a little. “Isn’t that a fun coincidence!”

“Did they send you here because of the ‘cultural significance’?” Crowley hummed.

“They did !” Aziraphale confirmed. “Which I think is outrageous !”

“It’s like they’ve never heard of the British Invasion!” Crowley scoffed. “America’s crawling all over anything British right now- but sure, America’s the influential continent.”

“I was thinking that precisely !” Aziraphale nodded. “I tried to tell them.”

“What’s the point?” Crowley rolled her eyes. “They don’t listen.”

“No… no, they don’t.” Aziraphale gulped lightly, more than evidently nervous to voice any dissatisfaction with Heaven. You never knew when or where they were listening. Crowley wasn’t stupid- she could see how uncomfortable her counterpart was. So she did her the mercy of changing the subject.

“So, what’ve you ordered?” Crowley asked, picking up a menu. “Anything I should try?”

“Oh, I haven’t ordered yet.” Aziraphale admitted. “It seems… well, I really am trying not to make a fuss, but it seems that the waitress hasn’t even seen me.”

“What?” Crowley blinked.

“Well… she’s been serving all the families, and the men who walk in, but… she hasn’t even looked my way.” Aziraphale explained.

“Oh, that’s not going to fly.” Crowley grumbled before standing up and grabbing her place setting. She banged the cutlery on he table, sending a pointed glare to the waitress. One could feel the intensity of it, even if her eyes were masked.

“Oh, you don’t have to-” Aziraphale blushed.

“Excuse me!” Crowley called out to the waitress. “My friend here has been waiting for service for… how long’s it been?”

“Just around forty-five minutes.” Aziraphale croaked out, a dark shade of crimson in embarrassment.

“ Forty-five minutes?!” Crowley scoffed, looking at the waitress again. “What kind of service is that ?”

“I’m…” The waitress stammered.

“You’re going to come over here and take her order, or I’m gonna tell your boss how unprofessional you’re being.” Crowley threatened her. “You think he wants someone on staff who’s ignoring patrons?”

“What seems to be the problem out here?” A man in a soda-jerk’s uniform and an apron popped his head out of the kitchen.

“Oh, it’s nothing Mr. Kennedy.” The waitress flushed red. “These ladies were just voicing some concerns.”

“Your waitress has not served my companion here in forty-five minutes.” Crowley told him.

“Well… the place is fairly full, ma’am.” Mr. Kennedy reasoned.

“She’s serving everyone but us!” Crowley countered. “There are families that have just walked in, and they’re getting their orders taken!”

“This is a family diner- we’re in the business of serving families.” The man stated levelly.

“And what of the business men? Hm?” Crowley pointed out. “They’re not families.”

“They’re very busy working men.” Mr. Kennedy nodded. “Listen, ladies… Thanks for stopping in. But I think it’s time you got home and started making supper for your husbands, isn’t it?”

“Our husbands ?” Crowley fumed.

“You can make yourself a snack while you’re at it if you’re really hungry.” Mr. Kennedy hummed.

“This is ridiculous !” Crowley scoffed. “We’re willing to pay you, and you won’t have us?”

“That’s right.” Mr. Kennedy sighed before his eyes darkened and his tone took on more of an edge. “You can take your liberal feminism elsewhere, ma’am. This is a family establishment.”

“I think we will.” Crowley huffed, quickly getting onto her feet and taking Aziraphale’s wrist, dragging her along. “Come on, Angel.”

Crowley was brisk- so brisk, in fact, that Aziraphale nearly stumbled and fell. It was amazing how quickly the demon could move when she was upset. Aziraphale gave an apologizing glance at the waitress on her way out, who looked mortified by the entire situation. Neither Aziraphale nor Crowley had to look around to feel the eyes trained on them. They’d ‘caused a scene’, as some might say. But… even Aziraphale had to admit that it was a scene worth causing. Whilst Crowley had jumped straight to anger, Aziraphale found herself more confused than anything. Why in the world was that man so against them? Had Americans forgotten the importance of showing kindness to strangers? God herself could have been in that restaurant today and Aziraphale got the distinct feeling that ‘Mr. Kennedy’ would have reacted in precisely the same way.

“Thank you for standing up for me.” Aziraphale muttered, holding close now to her colleague.

“Absolutely ridiculous.” Crowley grumbled. “I’ve seen a lot, but this is an all-time low…”

“How has it come to this ?” Aziraphale asked tiredly.

“It’s humanity, Angel- they’re always finding new lows to sink to.” Crowley sighed. “I guess I can tell Hell that they were wrong- this isn’t all just God favoring the women.”

“Is that what Hell thought?” Aziraphale blinked.

“Yup.” Crowley sighed, popping the ‘p’. “Told ‘em that wasn’t the case, but they don’t listen.”

“God doesn’t play favorites- not since Job.” Aziraphale hummed.

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Crowley rolled her eyes. “But this is one problem we can’t pin on her- this one is all humanity.”

“The audacity on that man, to refuse us service!” Aziraphale huffed in agreement.

“We don’t need him.” Crowley sighed. “We’ll find somewhere else to eat- perhaps spend the night out somewhere.”

“Where?” Aziraphale asked.

“The pictures might be nice.” Crowley mused. “I think I saw a poster for a special anniversary screening of Psycho at the theater a few blocks down.”

“Oh no- I read that book. Scared the living daylights out of me.” Aziraphale shuddered. “But… they have made an adaptation of The Sound of Music, and it’s in theaters now…”

“I am not going to watch The Sound of Music.” Crowley deadpanned.

“Well then perhaps we could-” Aziraphale started, before she heard a sharp whistle from across the street. She blinked, her eyes following it.

“ Don’t look .” Crowley warned under her breath.

“Why not?” Aziraphale muttered, looking in the direction of the whistle.

Across the street stood a cluster of four young men, wolfish grins on their faces as they seemed to scan every inch of her and Crowley with their eyes. There was a fear that crashed over Aziraphale like a wave, overwhelming every one of her senses. She wasn’t sure why- it was just a group of boys. If they were armed, Aziraphale didn’t know about it. They were just standing there… Standing there and eyeing her hungrily like she was a piece of meat. The fear seemed innate - instinctual , almost. Like it was programmed into her. She found that that kind of fear was usually very warranted.

“Hey good-lookin’, why don’t you come over here and let us show you a good time?” One of the men called over. She froze, shivers running down her spine.

“I beg your pardon?” She flushed red.

“No no no, angel, don’t let it get to you.” Crowley muttered, tugging on her wrist to keep her pardon.

“Oh, they’re British !” Another one of the men grinned even wider (if that was possible) before letting out a loud whoop. The other men joined, whooping and hollering across the street at her and Crowley. “Come on, let us show you the American way sweetheart!”

“Fuck off!” Crowley growled, glaring at them from across the street.

“Feisty!” Another man seemed to cheer. “I like a feisty girl!”

“Give us a chance, and we’ll teach you some manners.” A man smirked.

“You’re all sick !” Aziraphale exclaimed, finally finding some strength. She couldn’t let them talk about Crowley that way. “She is not an animal to be tamed, and if you don’t stop it right now, I’ll… I’ll…”

“Angel…” Crowley warned under her breath.

“You’ll what, little lady?” One of the boys quirked a challenging brow.

“I’ll call the police!” Aziraphale proclaimed. “This is harassment!”

“Nah… we’re just being friendly is all.” The boy chuckled softly. “Geez, you women can’t take a compliment!”

“I-” Aziraphale started.

“ Leave it , angel.” Crowley warned under her breath. “Just keep moving, or it will only get worse.”

“But we really ought to call the police!” Aziraphale protested quietly. “This isn’t right!”

“Who do you think the police are going to side with?” Crowley asked rhetorically.

“You’re not saying…” Aziraphale’s eyes widened in shock. “But that’s outrageous!”

“It’s society.” Crowley shrugged. “So I’d suggest moving, or they’ll just keep at it.”

“Fine.” Aziraphale muttered shortly, her pace picking up to be rather brisk. Crowley matched it, keeping her head held high.

“We’ll be here waiting when you change your minds!” A man called after them.

Aziraphale could not shake the overwhelming disgust that those men had given her. Did they honestly think that any of that was acceptable? Was that what humanity considered to be ‘normal’? If Aziraphale were an actual woman, she was fairly sure that she would lock herself away from the fear of it all. How courageous must a woman be to even dare to walk the streets when it apparently warranted that kind of attention? Or, a better question still- how had they all not snapped and eliminated the male race entirely? Having to go through that day by day… Aziraphale would think it would drive someone to madness. And yet the women she knew were some of the sweetest, gentlest and most caring individuals to walk the earth. They didn’t just overcome their circumstances- they thrived in spite of them.

She wondered, though, how Crowley knew what was going to happen. Aziraphale knew that her demonic companion had taken on a feminine form more often than she had, but in her experience Crowley hadn’t encountered anything like that … had she? She dreaded to think that perhaps it had , right under her nose, and from her cushy position in a safer masculine form she had failed to notice. Perhaps, even, she had unwittingly supported it. She shuddered to think of that. It was remarkable how stepping into someone else’s shoes could change one’s perspective. Crowley hadn’t even flinched through all of that. Aziraphale very much wished that she had .

“Ridiculous what men think they’re entitled to.” Crowley grumbled as she walked.

“Indeed…” Aziraphale bit her lip, still troubled. “Erm… Crowley?”

“Something on your mind, Angel?” Crowley asked, her tone still short. “Just spit it out- you don’t always have to be so polite.”

“You didn’t seem to be phased by any of that.” Aziraphale blushed. “Why?”

“Oh, Angel… that’s all existed since the dawn of time- since Adam and Eve, or Abraham and Sarah.” Crowley sighed, softening. “Did you really never see it?”

“No.” Aziraphale admitted, a bright crimson. “ I haven’t acted that way unwittingly, have I?”

“How should I know?” Crowley scoffed, before seeing Aziraphale wince. She sighed, toning herself down. “Well… I’m not with you all the time. But from what I’ve seen, you’re a more than decent man, Aziraphale. I don’t think it’s even in your capacity to do anything like that.”

“And I haven’t supported it?” Aziraphale checked.

“Not that I’ve seen.” Crowley assured her.

“Oh good.” Aziraphale sighed in relief.

“Do you really want to see the worst of what men have to offer?” Crowley asked.

“I don’t know… do I?” Aziraphale winced.

“You ought to- for the reports to Heaven and such.” Crowley pointed out.

“I suppose…” Aziraphale sighed. “Where are we going, then?”

“A bar.” Crowley hummed. “Any will do, as long as it’s not gay.”

“Why not the gay ones?” Aziraphale furrowed her brows, following Crowley.

“You’re really asking that?” Crowley raised her brows, unimpressed. Aziraphale blushed again, and she sighed. “This isn’t just a fatal design flaw on the part of all men- it’s a mix of lust and the patriarchy. God did woman no favors making her from man. The way men see it, ‘man was made in God’s image, woman was made for man’. They feel superior to them- like they’re a link higher on the food chain. Mix that with lust, and they begin to feel entitled to them.”

“But God is a woman.” Aziraphale furrowed his brows. “Or… or at least that’s what I’ve heard.”

“Don’t go about trying to tell that to men .” Crowley chuckled.

“I’m sorry, but how does this all relate to your point about gay bars?” Aziraphale checked.

“Gay men don’t lust for women- they don’t even have an interest in them.” Crowley clarified. “It takes out the entitlement factor. So gay men are much better to women. And gay women- the sapphics- well… they know better than to put each other through that.”

“Oh.” Aziraphale blinked, processing that.

“So no gay bars.” Crowley sighed. “We can go to one a little later once we’ve taken enough of a beating from the regular bars.”

“Alright.” Aziraphale sighed.

She let Crowley take the lead. She figured she probably should have known about the entire gay thing- it made complete sense. Perhaps that was why people always assumed Aziraphale was queer- because he treated women so well. How sad was it that that might be indicative of someone’s sexual preferences? That was how little self-control the straight men had over themselves. Now, mind you, Aziraphale knew that was likely a harmful generalization. She was sure that not all straight men treated women this poorly. Most of them probably weren’t so obvious about how they felt about women- they discriminated more quietly, like Mr. Kennedy had. In retrospect, though, Aziraphale wasn’t sure which form of discrimination was worse- the louder and more obviously wrong one, or the one so quiet that society had deemed it ‘normal’.

She followed Crowley in the doors of a dingy looking establishment- though Aziraphale had tended to find all the bars she had been to a little dingy. It was lively inside- lots of men chatting and drinking, making merry. For the first time, Aziraphale noticed the staggering lack of a female presence within a bar. If Crowley’s word was anything to go on, perhaps none of the bars she’d been to had had a strong female presence. She gulped as eyes trained on her much faster than she’d anticipated, smirks starting to grow on the faces of some of her spectators. It was like she’d just walked straight into the lion’s den. She felt Crowley lean into her, and she held closely to her.

“You’ll get the best experience by playing along with them.” The demon muttered.

“Must we?” Aziraphale winced.

“It’ll be worth it.” Crowley promised. She sighed, relenting and following Crowley to sit on a barstool. “Two White Russians.”

“Coming right up, sweetheart.” The bartender winked at the would-be ladies. Wonderful. They were already being patronized.

“What’s a White Russian?” Aziraphale whispered.

“You’ll like it.” Crowley assured her.

The hairs on Aziraphale’s neck raised as some sort of sixth sense activated. Two men approached her and Crowley from behind, situating themselves on either side of the would-be ‘ladies’. You could tell that they weren’t there for drinks- their focus was trained on the ‘girls’, like a predator to its prey. They reeked of alcohol and cigarette smoke. Aziraphale had a pit in her stomach- she knew that this was going to be torture. Why had she let Crowley convince her to do this?

“Evening ladies.” The man beside Aziraphale winked. It took everything in her not to cringe. “How’s about I buy you a few drinks?”

“Sure thing, big guy.” Crowley giggled. Inwardly, Aziraphale was groaning. Outwardly, she forced herself to giggle as well, as though she found any joy in the prospect of this slimey man’s company.

“Hey buddy, next few rounds are on me.” The man told the barkeep, slurring his words slightly.

“Name’s Tom, ‘n my buddy is Dylan.” The other man introduced. “What can we call you fine ladies?”

“ Mrs . Fell and Mrs . Crowley.” Aziraphale introduced, with an emphasis on the prefixes.

“You related to an A.Z. Fell and an Anthony Crowley?” Dylan asked.

“I- we are .” Aziraphale stammered, shocked. “Those are… they’re our husbands. ”

“Visited their bookstore on my last trip overseas.” Dylan hummed. “I thought they were queer. ”

“Well, they can be rather strange .” Crowley teased.

“Mmmm… let’s leave the husbands out of this then.” Tom flashed her a wolfish grin. “What’re your names?”

“I-” Aziraphale began to protest.

“I’m Sadie, and my prudish friend is Dottie.” Crowley introduced, offering him a hand to shake. Instead, he yanked it up and kissed it sloppily up her arm. Crowley giggled along with it- but this time the laughter was more obviously fake.

Aziraphale shot Crowley a small frown- they hadn’t discussed new cover names. Then again, they also hadn’t discussed new cover wives . So they were about even, she supposed.

“Yes… Dottie Fell and Sadie Crowley.” Aziraphale confirmed warily.

“I’m Tom, and this is Dylan.” Tom introduced again.

“You’d mentioned that.” Aziraphale, aka Dottie, hummed softly. These men were both drunk as a skunk, which Aziraphale feared meant nothing good.

“What brings two lovely ladies like you into a place like this?” Tom asked.

“Just a night out on the town, exploring.” Crowley- or Sadie , for now- mused playfully.

“Must be so different from England.” Dylan hummed, running a hand down Aziraphale’s arm until it hooked around her side. She felt her breath hitch.

“Erm… yes, it is. Quite.” Aziraphale muttered softly before taking a healthy sip of her drink.

“It’s an awfully long way from home.” Crowley played along, not even flinching as Tom’s arm smoothed down her back and rested just above the danger zone. Instead, Crowley’s eyes were trained on the hands on Aziraphale’s waist. She looked as though she might strike at the slightest wrong move. “Everything here is so exciting !”

“I’m sure it is.” Tom hummed. “You know, if you ladies really want something exciting… we can show you the American Dream .”

“The American Dream ?” Aziraphale tried not to wince, praying with every ounce of strength that she had that he didn’t mean what she thought he meant.

“Mhm, all you gotta do is follow us over to our rooms at The Plaza.” Tom winked. It sent the entirely wrong kind of shiver down Aziraphale’s spine.

“But we just told you we were married !” Aziraphale gasped. “Shame on you!”

“Oh, it’s fine , Dottie- what would two women be doing in a bar if they didn’t want to wind up in someone else’s bed?” Crowley hummed, her tone now laced with more venom. “If we’re here, we can’t just be two girls having fun- we ought to be unhappy in our marriages and seeking a helping hand. Right, boys?”

“See, she gets it.” Dylan smirked, snaking his hand around her waist and to her front to pull her closer. Aziraphale’s eyes widened with more than just discomfort- with a bonafide sense of horror. “C’mon, darlin’. Relax. Get comfortable. I can feel how tense you are .”

“See, the thing is… we just came for a nice night out. ” Crowley sighed, the act dropped. She snapped, and the men both sported handcuffs, and then again and they were all outside. “A night in the cells for public intoxication won’t teach ‘em a lesson, but it ought to do some good.”

“At the very least it will ensure that they don’t get their hands on anyone else.” Aziraphale nodded, before taking Crowley’s hand and starting to walk away.

“Hey… wait…” One of the men protested. “Dottie… Sadie… I’ll love ya truly!”

“I’ll see you in hell, boys!” Crowley called back, a devilish smirk on her face. “We’re going to have a lot of fun.”

As they walked away from the bar, Aziraphale’s stomach tossed and turned. It lost none of the knots it had acquired through the night. The inequality he’d seen earlier was bad, but that… that confirmed a very scary truth for him: women were seen as objects here. Objects . Things a man could own- whether it be for pleasure, or housework, or cooking. They were possessions. And as possessions, men assumed they were capable of being stolen. It clearly didn’t matter how the woman felt about the matter- they only pretended to give the woman a say, but there were expectations. Aziraphale knew there ought to be a reason that Crowley pulled them back out before the men had gotten angry, and she decidedly did not want to know what that reason was. She feared , based on how touchy they’d gotten at the bars, that it might be violent.

“Oh Crowley… this is awful !” Aziraphale’s eyes started to well with tears. “It’s truly, truly awful.”

“I know, Angel.”Crowley soothed.

“And you knew all of this existed?” Aziraphale sniffed, tears running down her face, smudging her makeup in the process but she didn’t much care.

“Yeah… this entire mission is a formality for me.” Crowley admitted. “I had to do something for the paperwork.”

“How could you stand to be a man after knowing all of this?” Aziraphale choked out through a sob. “It makes me sick !”

“It’s terrible, Aziraphale.” Crowley hummed. “But the best way to make the world better for women is to be a good man, yeah? One that lifts a woman’s voice.”

“I suppose…” Aziraphale considered.

“The issue is, they aren’t being heard- the men won’t hear them.” Crowley sighed. “They’re refusing to change. But if some of us do listen, then… then maybe more will too. It can change.”

“You really think so?” Aziraphale sighed.

“I do.” Crowley hummed. “But you didn’t hear that from me, naturally- I wouldn’t want the world to get better, would I?”

“No… no, of course you wouldn’t.” Aziraphale chuckled softly under her breath.

Aziraphale never wanted to go through anything like that again. There were times in that bar when she had genuinely felt scared for her safety. She’d genuinely worried that those men might try to harm her if she refused them, or force themselves on her. Men were terrifying when you weren’t one of them. How had she never seen this side of Man before? She supposed they were civil with those they saw as equal. To this point, Aziraphale could have been counted in those ranks. This was her first experience outside of that, and for the first time she saw clearly the Beast inside of Man. This had all gone far too far, and the one question on loop in Aziraphale’s mind was whether she could have avoided all of this if she’d seen the signs and reported them to Heaven. She supposed not- she wasn’t sure Heaven would have deemed this issue ‘important’ enough to intervene. This world was in a sad, sad state. She only hoped that it wasn’t too late to turn things around.

————

“No no, I’m not saying there’s an error on God’s part- I would never!” Aziraphale corrected themself in a nervous chuckle. “I’m just saying that… that we may not have properly assessed the risks of allowing the patriarchy to flourish.”

Aziraphale stood in front of a council of Archangels. They way the angels pored into them, it almost felt like they were on trial. They were used to it, though, after so many years of working with them. After an amply eventful night, they were presenting their findings- trying to make the Archangels understand why exactly it was that women made up such a sizeable chunk of Heaven’s human population. The issue with Archangels is that they took everything as criticism - and they didn’t like to be criticized. Needless to say that this was becoming an unnecessarily painful experience.

“The basis of the patriarchy isn’t entirely unfounded, Aziraphale.” Uriel noted. “We made Woman as a companion to Man.”

“Yes- and again, I’m certainly not saying it’s our fault that this happened.” Aziraphale sighed. “But Man… Man has gotten a bit confused . Man isn’t just seeing Woman as unequal. They’re seeing her as something akin to a dog that can also cook, do the housework and bear children.”

“But that’s ridiculous- women clearly aren’t dogs!” Gabriel scoffed.

“I know.” Aziraphale bit their cheek softly ti try and suppress their frustration. “I don’t mean that that’s how they see them with their eyes. I mean that it’s how they perceive women in concept. Man thinks that Woman is able to be possessed, and that she should always be expected to give him exactly what he wants, when he wants it.”

“Oh.” Gabriel finally seemed to understand. “And that’s not good for Woman?”

“ No ! It’s not !” Aziraphale huffed, unable to restrain themself any further. “It puts them in an incredible amount of danger! Woman has next to no rights, no respect! They are being raised to measure their worth in how capable they are if cooking a good dinner! A fulfilling career is rarely an option for Woman, nor is a fulfilling education. And if all that isn’t bad enough, every time Woman walks out the door she is liable to be manhandled, tossed around or worse . So no, when I called Earth a ‘living hell’ for them in my report it was not an exaggeration !”

“Mind your tone, Aziraphale.” Michael warned, one of four cool glares that had trained on the Angelic Ambassador.

“Apologies.” Aziraphale sighed, trying to cool themself off before continuing. “A woman is a terribly frightening thing to be on Earth- and yet the majority take all of their blows in silence. They handle themselves with grace and poise. They do what they’re told with no complaint, when they ought to want to eliminate Man entirely . The fortitude of spirit they must exercise to not simply snap has to be worthy of a high commendation. I’ve no doubt that every woman who walks through the Pearly Gates deserves it.”

“Interesting.” Gabriel nodded shortly. “Well, thanks for filling us in, Aziraphale. Anything we can do for you in the meantime? Anything you need down there?”

“Can Heaven… Can Heaven give Man a nudge in the right direction?” Aziraphale asked timidly. “This can’t keep happening this way. Man has pinned these perceptions on God . Perhaps if we intervened, even in the smallest way…”

“We shall see, Aziraphale.” Uriel hummed, before following as Gabriel, Michael, and an Angel whose name slipped Aziraphale’s mind left the room.

We shall see . That was always what they said when nothing was going to happen. Humanity was going to have to rely on itself to fix the damage that had been done, and from what Aziraphale could gather… that was going to go slowly, if it even happened at all. Maybe there would be a momentary lull in the discrimination, but if Aziraphale had learned one thing from their time on Earth it was that history had the unfortunate habit of repeating itself. They feared that this was all just doomed to happen over and over again. Earth was stuck in a cycle that would never end.

[quillomens]

Book Omens Week Day 3: Historical

I'm catching up since I thought the week was cancelled. Haha. I THINK I'll have day 4 up today, though! It continues from this one.

Summary: The first time they got married was only a few hundred years after the Garden. It wouldn't be the last.

HERE ON AO3

Over the next few days, watch out for: ancient Sumer! The Round Table! Leo da Vinci! Piracy! Two Very Lazy Immortal Beings! Paperwork!

----

Sixty years and some change after their second unfortunate meeting, Crowley happened upon the angel while prowling a sort of  cave-village puttering along in Mesopotamia.   

He didn’t panic this time.  He’d been sent to the settlement because an angel was there, so he hadn’t been quite so startled this time around.  He also slinked up slowly, watching (and tongue twitching beyond his lips every now and then), which helped his reptile brain report, “This is that Eastern Gate fellow.”   

So instead of panic and discorporation, Crowley was able to slide up, smooth and cool, and say, “How’s it going there, oh, Angel of the Lord?” 

The angel jumped, which was very gratifying.  About time an angel was nervous about him.  

The angel’s currently dark brows drew together before his expression cleared.  “Crawly?” he asked, and then, before Crowley could correct him, “No, it’s Crowley, isn’t it?” 

Crowley was gratified again.  “It is.  And you’re Aziraphale.”  He tried to sound casual.  Maybe he’d asked around.  Maybe he just knew things.   

Aziraphale turned his eyes back to the foul-smelling but good natured mortals as they went about their business.  The two of them were visible, not not…noticeable.  Nothing interesting here, please go on about you pre-historical business.  “It’s been some time.” 

“’Bout 60 years.”  Crowley had spent nine of them doing punishment paperwork and other, less enjoyable, things for so quickly wasting a corporation.  But the last fifty hadn’t been so bad, back on earth.  He was finding Earth highly preferable to hell, and didn’t understand why most demons bellyached about assignments on the first floor (so to speak). “What brings you here?  Spreading a little miracle or three?  Light of grace and all that good stuff?” 

“Observing, mostly.  I’m rather between assignments at the moment.”  The angel glanced over.  “You?” 

“Oh, sent here to kill you, I reckon.” 

One brow rose alone this time.  The gray-blue eyes were a little incongruous with his current coloring, but who was Crowley to point out glass houses?  “Oh?  And how are you planning to do that?  Another epic bout of clumsiness.” 

Crowley probably should have scowled, but found himself grinning instead.  Not bad! Most angels were painfully boring.  ….At that, so were most demons.  “Maybe.  Want to stand near a handy fire for me?”   

The angel made a show of considering it before settling on, “No, I think not.  I don’t need any more paperwork or nasty notes.” 

Crowley would (pretend to) kill for a nasty note.  Bet there were no boils and papercuts in heaven.  

“Ah, well.  Guess I’ll just slink downstairs then.” 

Crowley didn’t move.  They kept standing there, side by side.   

“Did you know,” Aziraphale said after several minutes of oddly comfortable silence, “that they’ve started little pairing ceremonies?” 

Crowley shot him a look.  “What now?” 

“Well, you know how some of the animals pair off for life?  And others don’t?  Humans are similar, yes?  Some pair off, like Adam and Eve, others don’t.” 

“Rrrrright.”  Crowley scratched at a flea trying to set up house in the long fall of his hair.  “Hell’s undecided on that one.  Seems to fit with a sort of heavenly chastity on one side, but the way two people can make each other miserable?  Full marks.” 

The angel gave him a censorious frown.  Crowley spread his hands with demonic innocence, as if to say, “Above my pay grade, good sir.”   

Had the movement been invented and imbued with meaning at the time, Aziraphale would have rolled his eyes.  As it was, he just said, “Well, be that as it may, they’ve created this little ritual for it, and it’s rather sweet.” 

A minor miracle caused every flea in the vicinity to go up in tiny flames.  

“Ritual?  What, skulls and blood and feet of newts?”  Crowley tried to look pleased, though the whole concept actually made him a bit queasy.  He couldn’t shake the feeling that “feather of demon” or “eye of serpent” would one day be popular for these “little rituals” of the humans’.   

“No, no, nothing so disturbing.  Just a sort of speech and a promise.”   

“Oh.”  Crowley wrinkled his nose.  He was fond of a good nose wrinkle these days.  Couldn’t pull that off as a snake.  “Sounds boring.” 

“It’s sweet!” Aziraphale argued.  He looked decidedly put-out, as if the opinion of this semi-random demon was of some importance in his angelic brain.  Then he clearly came to a decision and, without so much as a “Mary may I?” wrapped his hand about Crowley’s wrist and pulled him into the bustle of humanity. 

Crowley should have protested, maybe popped a little hellfire, but he was so surprised by being touched without an intent to cause pain (it had been so long) that he shamedly just let his enemy drag him on.  

They stopped in front of a woman – older, heavy set, stripes on her stomach and gray in her hair.  She wore little in the heat, but she had several necklaces of shell and bone, painted with red clay, that were unique among the humans.  Someone of importance, then?   

She clearly recognized the angel and greeted him with a smile and a fair approximation of his name.   

“Hello,” he said back, his smile warm but his voice officious.  “Lovely to see you again.”   

“It was only this morning,” she said, a sparkle of mischief in her eyes that Crowley wholeheartedly approved of.  “I’m not so old as all that.” 

“Of course not!  You’re a lovely young woman.”  Crowley shot Aziraphale a look.  He thought perhaps the angel was being sincere.  Still figuring out aging, was he?   

The human chuckled warmly. “Now then, young charmer, what do you require my help with?”  

“I would like you to show the pairing ceremony,” Aziraphale motioned to Crowley, “to my,” he stopped a moment, frowning.  Crowley watched with some amusement. My enemy was hardly the way to introduce someone without causing suspicion.  After a beat, he settled on, “companion.” 

The human’s eyebrows rose in a riot of wrinkles.  “The pairing ceremony?” 

“Yes.  I told him it’s quite lovely, but he has his doubts.” 

Dark eyes glanced between them.  “I hardly think it is appropriate to perform the ceremony for someone who isn’t certain.” 

“Oh, I’m certain enough,” Crowley drawled.  Clearly it existed, since they were talking about it. 

The old woman eyed them again, gaze assessing.  Then she raised her shoulders dismissively – he'd seen that a few times now, wasn’t entirely certain what it meant to them – clapped her chapped hands, and said, “Might as well!” in a cheerful voice.  

Aziraphale gave Crowley a smug look.  Crowley stared at him, annoyingly unblinking.   

(Later, Crowley would miss those early days, when his eyes hardly merited comment.  The woman had looked at them, of course, but passed on readily.) 

The woman motioned to a young man, who jogged off to gather a few supplies.  She chatted easily with Aziraphale as they waited, and offered a handful of figs to them both.  Aziraphale took them immediately.  Crowley was more hesitant, but gave in when Aziraphale bit into one with clear enjoyment.   

And here he thought angels didn’t eat. 

They were so delicious (he hadn’t properly had figs; they were sweeter than he  that the boy was painting a stripe of clay on his forehead before he realized they’d started.   

“Wait-” he started to say, but the woman shushed him and Aziraphale sent him a look for interrupting.  He fell silent, listening to the simple words.  The gist was all about support – looking out for the other person, working to keep the other person safe, providing comfort. 

It was lovely, though he was loathe to admit it.  A nice idea, having someone to depend on and spend time with.  He couldn’t remember much about heaven, but hell certainly wasn’t known for its comradery.   Shame it wasn’t real- 

The woman took his hand and placed it on top of the angel’s.   

Crowley jumped as if burned – expecting, really, to be burned, that was the rumor – and saw Aziraphale flinch as well.  But. 

Nothing happened. 

The skin was unusually soft, given angels didn’t work, but beyond that, it was just a hand.   

Their eyes met briefly, yellow to gray. 

“And may you protect each other until the end of your days,” the woman said, taking their two hands in her strong, leathery ones.   

Crowley saw, in Aziraphale’s eyes, the moment the angel realized what he had. 

This was not a demonstration. 

It was a ceremony. 

He couldn’t help it.  Crowley threw his head back and laughed, startling the woman, the demon, and several people in the vicinity with the underlying hiss he hadn’t learned to control yet.  It was an inhuman laugh, and an inhuman smile, and the angel frowned at him, but he couldn’t help it.  It wasn’t real, not truly.  They weren’t human, and human ceremonies didn’t mean anything in heaven or hell, but- 

An angel bound to a demon just to make a point? 

Hilarious! 

Aziraphale sighed deeply, the old woman barked a laugh (“It’s unusual, but some people react like this,” she assured Aziraphale gently as he looked like he might throw up if his corporation would let him), and Crowley grinned, broad and toothy and wild.   

(As long as hell didn’t know, as long as hell never found out, he should be just fine.) 

@book-omens-week

[hemerachaos]

-Good Omens and I'm Born to Run-

With lots of songs I listen to, I picture a story with it. Some of these songs, I associate them with Good Omens.

I'm Born to Run by American Authors is one of these songs. The picture I have with this song is Crowley associated. This song follows Crowley in history for context.

"I'm born to run down rocky cliffs Give me grace, bury my sins Shattered glass and black holes Can't hold me back from where I need to go"

In this verse, I imagine how Crowley fell and became a demon. How he went his own path and let Heaven behind him but never fully embracing the demon he had become.

"Yellow hills and valleys deep I watch them move under my feet Stranger things have come and gone To see the world and take the throne"

Crowley did watch the entire history of Earth, he was apart of it. Crowley followed the story of humankind and watched how culture changed over the years.

"I'm gonna live my life like I'm gonna die young Like it's never enough, like I'm born to run I'm gonna spend my time like tomorrow won't come Do whatever I want like I'm born to run"

The life Crowley lived on Earth was not a life Hell said he had to follow. Instead, Crowley did the bare minimum of what Hell asked and did what he wanted to do. So Crowley did live in a way he had carved out for himself.

"I wanna see Paris, I wanna see Tokyo I wanna be careless even if I break my bones I'm gonna live my life like I'm gonna die young Like it's never enough, like I'm born to run"

With this part, I imagine Aziraphale and Crowley together, finding theirselves in all kinds of places. Especially with the second sentence were Crowley at sometimes act carelessely to save Aziraphale. Like in the church that blew up. Only because Aziraphale knows how much Crowley it likes to save him.

"A winding road where strangers meet To feel the love of a warm drink My body moves, it's speaking loud Don't have to say what I'm thinking now"

Do I need to explain this part? A winding road where strangers meet. Of course I will think about Aziraphale and Crowley then.

Notes:

I didn't include the repeating parts of the song.

[p4nishers]

Tbh I DO feel like people thinking Aziraphale has a Plan or believing in the coffee theory takes away from the emotional impact and the narrative as a whole. It's a cult. Aziraphale has spent his entire life in a cult. I don't personally have that kind of religious trauma, but it's very real and it can be very hard to shake the conditioning. What's four years of freedom in the face of over six thousand. When we KNOW he struggles with black and white mentality (Crowley falling was a singular mistake, he alone is the exception to the 'demons are evil' rule, the system is not broken there are just a few bad apples) and this season he's not quite coping with the lack of connection to Heaven. The Metatron's approach is exactly that of an abuser trying to coax their victim into compliance. Crowley leaves already knowing from experience that both Heaven and Hell are corrupt. Aziraphale notably hasn't learned that lesson yet, but S3 is setting up for him to have a rude awakening. And it's not OOC at all.

you said it perfectly, thank you. it's not out of character, it's not the coffee, it's not metatron literally controlling his mind (yes i saw someone theorize that, it was a whole thing).

it's an entire existence of brainwashing and abuse.

honestly, i wasn't surprised very much when aziraphale accepted metatron's offer or that he didn't see the problem with it in the first place. every flashback this season (besides maybe 1941) was just the show saying loudly and clearly to us how much influence heaven still has on aziraphale's thinking, even if he can learn, he still will fall back on what they brainwashed him into. in the job ep he was so eager to find a way to make heaven be the good guys, he was absolutely certain that this wasn't what God wanted, despite the fact that They ordered the whole thing.

he cannot just escape this kind of good/bad and black/white thinking bc it's what he knew his whole life. and that's what crowley doesn't, can't understand bc he fell relatively early, before earth and people, and he had thousands of years to see how rotten heaven actually is but aziraphale doesn't have that. he didn't fall, he's still an angel and still has the same mindset despite seeing heaven wanting to end the world perhaps even more than hell. and no, he can't break out of it until he sees the whole problem up close, sees how fundamentally wrong everything is and that it cannot be changed.

even if we are all upset about this, i think we should keep in mind that if this didn't happen, if aziraphale didn't get to see the system as it actually is, he would've still believed in it in some way and shared their mindsets, however unintentionally, and he and crowley could never have truly lasted without both of them learning from their mistakes. because crowley needs to learn too, needs to see that running away from it all doesn't solve anything and it will eventually catch up with him.

that's why the coffee theory, even if it ends up being true, which i highly doubt, is not good for aziraphale's character and not the "big saving grace" everyone thinks it is.

[aziraphales-library]

Hi mods,

first of all, thank you for the great work you've been doing, thanks to you I've found some amazing fics!

I was wondering if you could recommend a slow burn fic that is on the longer side, at least 20,000 words, non-human, any rating? Something like She did look back, and I love her for that by Waterloo maybe?

Thanks so much in advance, have a wonderful day!

Hello! Here are some longer slow burn non-human fics...

The space between us by MyOwnName123 (T)

This is a love story, written by my own asexual/aromantic ass. Crowley took exactly seven seconds to fall madly in love with Aziraphale, but he knows it's a terrible idea to actually do anything about it so instead he spends thousands of years pining away silently. Besides, what does love even mean? This fic may or may not have gone out of hand in terms of biblical and historical accuracy, also i tried to stay true to canon but it's been a while since i last read Good omens so this is probably more based on head canons and other fanfic. Enjoy!

32 Questions That Lead To Love by ffonippop (E)

”First formulated in 1997, [32] questions to fall in love is a study by psychologist Dr. Arthur Aron which took place at Stony Brook University, New York. The aim? Speeding up the creation of intimacy between two strangers.” The Cosmopolitan Okay, fine. Crowley was 32-Questions-That-Lead-To-Love-ing Aziraphale. Sue him. He had no expectations, all right? Just, an innocent curiosity.

Sunlight or Demise by verovex (T)

Anathema had once said she couldn’t see Adam’s aura, and it should’ve been more of a red flag, but the reality was it had just been so large she couldn’t see it for what it was. For Crowley, it was the same thing with trying to see reciprocation from Aziraphale. * The enormity of love was, by all accounts, indecipherable. Aziraphale had known what love felt like in this world. At least, he thought he understood it. He felt it all around him. He always had. Sometimes, it was stronger in particular places than in others. But, there was something blurred about it all if you looked too close. He’d realized that Heaven never felt like this, yet it’s where you were taught that it should exist. Aziraphale had started to wonder. He couldn’t decide when the thought first came around that perhaps the love he felt had actually been what was sifting between him and Crowley. At some point, it was easier to be humbled by the complacency of what they’d always been showing each other than outright admitting it for what it was. But that wasn't enough anymore.

Heaven's a Distance, Not a Place by Turcote (T)

The Apocalypse has come and gone, and Aziraphale knows it's finally time to tell Crowley how he really feels. Only, finding the perfect time to confess is proving to be more difficult than he anticipated... Or, 5 Times Aziraphale Almost Confessed His Feelings + the 1 Time He Finally Did.

What Are You Doing New Year's Eve? by theshoparoundthecorner (G)

“Bit of an odd tradition, if you ask me,” he said, if not to get his mind off the longing that had settled in his chest. Aziraphale shrugged. “I think it’s rather sweet. A kiss for good luck. Seems a nice way to start the year. Very human.” Crowley nodded. “Can’t seem to keep their hands off each other, that lot. Always finding excuses. First it’s mistletoe at Christmas, then it’s luck for the New Year…” “Well there’s no need to be so grouchy about it,” Aziraphale said. “I think it’s lovely.” Crowley’s heart ached a little more as he watched Aziraphale smile up at the glowing numbers on the building above them. Yeah, he thought, lovely. Five times Crowley thought about kissing Aziraphale on New Year's Eve, and one time he did.

Oh, Maker by voluptatiscausa (E)

"The humans are strange and graceful as they explore the garden, explore themselves, explore each other. The trouble is, the humans stare back, which makes him uncomfortable; there’s nothing particularly interesting about him. And, though he rarely admits it to himself, the humans make him lonely; he has no Other to explore." Or: how many times can you take a bath with your best friend before you kiss him?

And the one you mentioned...

She did look back, and I love her for that by Waterloo (M)

1666, LONDON, AFTER THE FIRE Oh fuck, he thinks. Oh fuck, he's in love. (A not-so-nice but entirely accurate account of two immortal beings throughout the millenia, replete with feelings.)

- Mod D

[shieldmaiden-tabris]

You wanna know what really kills me?

Heaven was never going to leave Aziraphale and Crowley alone. After what they did, there's no way they could. Crowley and Aziraphale didn't just go rogue. They openly defied Heaven and Hell, gave middle fingers to the Great Plan, and walked away with no consequences. They showed that Heaven doesn't have as much control as they claim. Their continued existence threatens the fragile status quo that Heaven has painstakingly worked to maintain over 6,000 years. If Heaven is to salvage what remains of the Great Plan as they see it, their next plan cannot have any uncontrolled variables, and Crowley and Aziraphale are as uncontrollable as it gets.

Heaven needed to find a way to eliminate Crowley and Aziraphale to prevent them from ever interfering with their plans again. However, it can't be as simple as just killing them.

When Aziraphale and Crowley survived their attempted executions, they became an even bigger problem. Hell made a huge mistake in choosing to make Crowley's trial a spectacle. While "Crowley" splashed around in Holy Water in front of a demonic audience, Beelzebub immediately went into damage control mode so riots wouldn't break out, but by then, it was too late. Too many demons saw that Hell had lost control of one of their own and any remaining power Hell had over Crowley vanished. Crowley absolutely knows this. Look at the way he responds when directly threatened in season 2. When Beelzebub threatens Crowley in episode 1, he doesn't react at all, it's like he doesn't even hear it. When Shax says that he'll be, "hunted and eliminated by Hell," in episode 2, Crowley gives such a nonreaction that Shax even says, "So you understand that I'm threatening you?" Even then, he just revs the engine until she leaves. The threats are empty.

Heaven's saving grace was that only the Archangels were present during Aziraphale's attempted execution. Only they, the angels in power, know that the Hellfire didn't work and they aim to keep it that way. If on the off chance anyone asks why Aziraphale went unpunished for his role in stopping Armageddon, all they need to say is that, "oh, he's been forgiven by God, who has decided to be merciful and x, y, z, so on and soforth," or something along those lines that supports the idea that Heaven is still Good and nothing is wrong and do not look at the man behind the curtain, so to speak.

Neither Heaven nor Hell have reason to suspect Crowley and Aziraphale switched bodies, so I highly doubt they would risk trying the same methods again unless they're entirely certain it would succeed. (Yes, Crowley spilled the secret to Gabriel while drunk, which I do think is going to come into play in season 3, but given that Gabriel never had the chance to tell Heaven and is now off somewhere with Beelzebub, as of the season 2 finale, the other angels and demons still don't know.)

If Crowley and Aziraphale can't be destroyed, then Heaven's only alternative is to separate them somehow. Physically forcing them apart would have been out of the question from the start. Crowley and Aziraphale displayed pretty impressive power performing that miracle on Gabriel, and when you couple that with the idea that they can't be destroyed by Holy Water or Hellfire, that's more than a little threatening. If they were forced apart, I can guarantee there is nothing in Heaven or Hell that could keep them separate.

So mutual separation it is. But how?

Enter, the Metatron.

I've seen a few posts pointing out that Crowley was the only one who recognized the Metatron in the bookshop and how such familiarity is possibly a hint to his former rank in Heaven. But what if Crowley knows the Metatron for another reason? I keep thinking back to the scene with Crowley and Aziraphale on the mountain, watching as Job talks directly to God. While Aziraphale looks on in awe, Crowley looks confused, maybe even envious and a little hurt. Consider the next few lines of dialogue:

Crowley: "Is God actually..." Aziraphale: "I think so." Crowley: "...talking to him?" Aziraphale: "I don't suppose he's getting any answers." Crowley: "No. But just to be able to ask the question..."

We know Crowley Fell for asking questions, but what if he never talked directly to God? What if he asked those questions to the voice of God, the Metatron? And what if the Metatron was one of the last faces he saw before he Fell? That would certainly leave an impression, no doubt.

I think the Metatron already knew Crowley wouldn't accept Heaven's offer because he knows what questions Crowley asked. He knows Crowley has never been one to blindly follow orders like Heaven demands. Crowley doesn't want to be a pawn anymore, he's never wanted to be a pawn in the first place. He's left Heaven and Hell behind to stand firmly on his own side and make his own decisions. Aziraphale on the other hand, still believes in Heaven's goodness. He thinks the rest of the Heavenly Host has just lost their way and longs to change the system from the inside. The Metatron is now using that faith to get him away from Crowley and back under Heaven's thumb by offering him a chance to change things in Heaven.

First, he defended Aziraphale when the Archangels were being bullies in the bookshop. Then, he offered Aziraphale coffee.

Oh, my god, the coffee... As soon as I saw it, I knew exactly what he was doing.

The coffee was a manipulation tactic to establish a commonality between himself and Aziraphale and distinguish the Metatron from the other angels by saying, "see? I'm like you." The use of drinks this season has been SUPER interesting to observe. When Gabriel appears at the bookshop, Aziraphale offers him hot chocolate. Before losing his memory, Gabriel wouldn't have touched the stuff. Later, Aziraphale offers Muriel a cup of tea and Muriel has no idea what to do with it. The Metatron's offering of coffee is the first time another angel has offered Aziraphale a drink. An offering of sorts.

The next thing the Metatron did was to physically separate Aziraphale from Crowley. And the look, the LOOK the Metatron gave Crowley when Aziraphale walked ahead... The moment the Metatron was able to get Aziraphale alone, he knew he'd got him. He took Aziraphale away from his support and then offered him a chance to make a difference.

"So predictable," the Metatron says to Nina in the coffee shop.

And he was right. He knew Aziraphale would accept his offer, just like he knew Crowley would refuse.

Heaven got their wish. Crowley and Aziraphale are separated. It took the Voice of God coming down from Heaven to do it, but it happened.

I don't know what Heaven has planned for Aziraphale. Maybe they plan to attempt to indoctrinate him again, or maybe they plan to keep him so busy with tedious tasks so he's out of the way of the real work they're doing. We'll just have to wait and see.

I do know one thing. Aziraphale will come back to Crowley. They won't be apart for too long. They will be on their own side, together at last, the two of them against Heaven and Hell at the end of all things and after. Of that, I'm certain.

[bryantspeed]

Season 2 Good Omens spoilers

Long rant incoming

Now that I’ve finished crying I wanna talk about the ending and some gut punch reactions I’ve already seen from other people. A repeated sentiment I’ve seen from Aziraphale and Crowley’s separation after the kiss is that “we don’t need more tragic queer endings” and that Our Flag Means Death and Good Omens suffer from straight writers writing queer love that fails in the end. And there are a few problems I have with those sentiments

The first being, BOTH GOOD OMENS AND OFMD AREN’T FINISHED? Like Neil Gaiman has stated in the past that he and Terry Pratchett envisioned 3 seasons in the TV adaptation of Good Omens, and we have definitely left off on a very interesting note for the third act to pick up from. This is the furthest thing from an ending as we can get.

Second, Season 2 of Good Omens very much shifted away from the idiot plot of Season 1 to truly make it a love story and emphasize that above all else. Hell, both Crowley and Aziraphale both point out romcom tropes that they find attractive and attempt to use them to make Maggie and Nina fall in love! Good Omens may be a self aware romcom, but it would be wrong to say it’s not still a romcom that subscribes to those tropes and utilizes them fully! We are ending the second act on a three act romantic story, and what typically happens then? The romantic leads, despite their mutual attraction and desire, split on ideological grounds and leave each other with regrets heavy on their lips (no matter how powerful a kiss is). Queer love stories do this too! Look at the movie “Bros”, they have this same 3 act structure, as does “But I’m a Cheerleader!” where we are screaming at Graham to please just run away with Megan but she is prioritizing her financial safety and family above her own desires.

Hell's sakes, look at the pinnacle of Romance, the brains behind the 1810 Clerkenwell diamond robbery, Jane Austen! Pride and Prejudice also follows this format where Elizabeth and Darcy are ideologically and emotionally split apart, and it is not until Darcy and Elizabeth grow and change for the better that they come back together in the most romantic scene to ever grace the world! "One word from you will silence me forever. [...] You have bewitched me body and soul". What I am trying to say is, Aziraphale going back to Heaven with Metatron is an extension of that common romance trope, splitting our star crossed demon and the too-trusting angel apart to prepare for the third and final act.

And ya know the funny thing that would have certainly happened even if they ended up together at the end of the second act? They would have been split apart very early into the third act. Stories are born of conflict, no story worth telling is one that culminates in "Nothing bad ever happened and we just watched our two lovebirds go on dates and explore each other's bodies for six hours!" Love stories thrive on setting up conflict, so that the romantic leads can fight and claw and work their way back to each other in a much more satisfying emotional climax than if the sloppy, rushed confession that Crowley gave Aziraphale had worked. Stories where the leads end up together in the middle of the story itself don't tend to end well for them (See Romeo and Juliet, "La La Land," "Titanic," et cetera). That is how you end up creating a romantic tragedy.

Third, while “We want queer stories that don’t end tragically” did have a place in film criticism at one time, and a time fairly recently, I feel that sticking to that now when there are a lot more stories that express queer joy and love (especially if you look beyond just major studios, support indie filmmakers, and support the SAG AFTRA and WGA strikes!!!) limits the kinds of stories we can tell. A genuine benefit of today is that there are a lot of queer stories that we can tell, and I’ve been lucky to read a lot of them. The freedom with which we can create stories about us is breathtaking. I've had the privilege to read many well written queer stories, but I've also had the strange privilege to read poorly written queer stories that I can't fathom how they made it past editing. There’s a fierce joy I carry knowing that there are a plethora of queer stories that I can read now, and that more are being created, good and bad.

My point is, there are so many queer stories to be told, and that are being told, so limiting queer media to “must end happily” is exactly that! Limiting! If we go in to every story with the foreknowledge of a happy ending, well frankly that’d be so boring! I want tragedies! I want fucked up characters not fully resolving their problems and being left in situations arguably worse than where they began!

And while I doubt that's the direction Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett wanted to take their supernatural love story, if Aziraphale and Crowley, despite all their struggles, are tragically separated because of metaphysical forces beyond our wildest imaginings, then that would be something new! It'd be interesting if done right! As painful it would be to not see Aziraphale and Crowley together gallivanting off to Alpha Centauri, I'd much rather see a story that has these sorts of stakes for both the characters and the audience!

Anyway, the reason for this rant is just to say that I'm excited for where Crowley and the new Supreme Archangel Aziraphale go in their final act, and by god will I impatiently wait and see.

PS: to those that I saw dismissing Good Omens' and OFMD's cliffhangers for coming from straight writers, Taika Waititi literally came out as queer, and Neil Gaiman had boycotts on Sandman in the 90's because of his queer characters, and his loving portrayal of Wanda, a trans woman that I will protect will all of my heart.