#you were right crowley

[youwererightcrowley]

Its 20 years after that day. Crowley has taken over the book shop with Muriel's help. Aziraphale regretted leaving the second he did but why has it taken him so long to return? Well, he's at Crowley's door step to explain, beg for forgiveness, and ask for help. The Second Coming, a scarier, worse armageddon, is upon them. Will Crowley and Aziraphale kiss and make up to save the world again? Or is the damage too irreparable?

something for Micheal Sheen in every chapter

[egophiliac]

Hi it's just to let you know that the official romanization of Revaan's name is Raverne ! Also they have romanized Baul's name to Baur !

Twst coming back at us again with the least expected romanization! thank you everybody (oh god my inbox) (no it's great, I literally asked for this and the reactions have been INCREDIBLE, thank you all!)

I do like Raverne though, I think it's got a nice fancy sound to it! (I had kinda suspected it was going to be an R instead of an L, so the fact that it's SO close to Laverne except for that is hilarious to me personally.) and Dragoneye Duke is honestly probably the best translation for his title, I wasn't envying the localizers that one. :') Baur instead of Baul I was NOT expecting, but in retrospect I think his name's supposed to be a reference to the Bauru crocodile, so that actually makes way more sense!

someone else also said Meleanor has become Maleanor, which is the REALLY weird one to me, because I was so surprised it was written as Mel instead of Mal in the first place?! oh god no I can't decide which one I like better. 😭 (I wonder if they might change it to Mal...they have made romanization changes before) (like I remember House of Distraction being corrected to House of Destruction in Playful Land) (I did check and she's still Mel for now, but I dunno, they might Mal her up and some point and save me from having to make a decision about which one to use) (HECK I CAN'T DECIDE)

uhhhh thank you for letting me ramble about anime names, let's just say MONOGRAMMED SWEATERS FOR EVERYONE

[thescottishalpaca]

[strangesthirdeye]

I thought listening to Good Omens Season 2 Soundtrack while reading Good Omens made reading feel calm and interesting but I was wrong when these two soundtracks were played.

😞💔 I'M HAVING A MOMENT HERE

[bluezest]

Can't wait to see Azi's version of this in Season 3! 😎

(just posted bunch of fanarts if you want to see the rest)

Bon week-end bisous

[crowleyholmes]

The thing that gets me so much about the kiss though, among many other things but this one i just never stop thinking about (and i'm sure it's one Crowley doesn't stop thinking about either), is how despite how shocked Aziraphale was by it and how scared and overwhelmed he was and how dangerous he knew it was (because he knew the Metatron was most likely watching), and despite the fact that he Forgives Crowley for it afterwards and breaks his heart, he didn't pull away. He didn't push Crowley away, either. And he easily could have, I'm 100% sure. Sure, Crowley was holding him in place by his coat lapels but still. Aziraphale could have turned his face away, could have pried Crowley's hands off, could have pushed him by the shoulders, could have verbally protested... but he didn't. In the end it's Crowley who ends the kiss and lets him go. Aziraphale wanted it just as much as Crowley did. But he was scared and confused and completely overwhelmed, and of course he falls back into old patterns. Plausible deniability!! Put on the front of the Good Angel! What do good angels do? Oh yeah, they forgive! It's their favorite thing! The good angel forgives the evil demon, look, Metatron, we're both doing exactly what we're supposed to be doing!!! Aziraphale is - stupidly? pointlessly? maybe!! - throwing up this facade, this ancient front they have always been forced to hide behind, to keep them both safe!!!

But at the same time, he IS angry. There is definitely some sincerity in that "I forgive you" he spits at Crowley. Because if there was one thing he never wanted to say in response to Crowley finally, finally kissing him, it's "i forgive you". It's pushing him away and breaking his heart and breaking them up, to keep them both safe. To give them a chance to do what they have to. But Crowley forced him to. And he doesn't even see it. Of COURSE Aziraphale is fucking devastated.

[kerryweaverlesbian]

This can't be a fic it has to use cinnamon toraphy to achieve my dream but if I was writing a deancas body swap episode I'd have them both in their respective new bodies in their own rooms really sheepish in front of the mirror. Split screen. Saying (or trying to get out, and only managing once, in Dean's case) "I love you" in their best approximation of the other's voice and then getting SO embarrassed that they have to hide from their own mirrors. And both interrupted by whoever their respective b-plot partner is (who's going 🤨)

[clumsycapitolunicorn]

"Will you please stay?" | "I need you."

TED LASSO | GOOD OMENS

[rainbowpopeworld]

The “You Were Right” Dance done by Amanda Palmer for Neil Gaiman at least 12 years ago.

I guess he took this and had someone choreograph it for Good Omens season 2 😅😂

[crybabydraws]

Thinking about them again. They make me sick.

[casziraphale]

Me when I think about Crowley’s car’s starter crank that was also the crank which kickstarted the universe:

And how he used it during that scene with Adam?

And how he could open that book in Heaven?

And how he seems to have some memory gaps like Gabriel, and relates to the struggle of trying to remember things?

[icarus-does-fall]

Crowley is so ken coded

(Azira is Barbie <3 )

[nym-wibbly]

wait, you hadn't seen spn when you posted the good omens wip? the language with the angels is so similar and everything?

Nope. Pratchett fan of many years, completely new to Supernatural these past three months (with the exception of Cas' love confession, cuz I think everyone on the internet who didn't know to duck and cover in advance got sp*ilered for it that night in 2020.) Something of a lifelong thing for fictional angels, though.

I went with a quasi-Judeo-Christian-theological, liturgical, and poetic vocabulary for the Heaven and Hell/angel and demon stuff. More straight-up/slightly unintentionally ironic for Aziraphale, who wants to take it all at face value (even when he can't); more filtered through the questions of Milton's Paradise Lost, and more despairing and hurting, for fallen angel Crowley.

Muriel's dialogue has a touch of the innocence and wonder of catechism - a discovery, a flowering that opens up to them through the spoken and written word. They question without hidden motive.

Metatron's got a smidge of the manipulative certainty of commercially-driven televangelism: clinical, cynical, tailored for maximum impact on his target audience (Aziraphale). A performance.

I'd guess the Supernatural writers did much the same, cherrypicking for whichever aspect bolstered their storyline or character at the time! Throw a rock at the English language and you'll hit a Judeo-Christian concept somewhere, somehow. "Grace", "vessel", "the Michael Sword" and so on - that stuff paints a lyrical picture that "essence", "body", and "archangel's avatar" couldn't, because it pulls hard on sources rooted so deep in English prose and poetry that we infer deeper meanings without, necessarily, ever giving them a moment's thought before. I'd guess that Good Omens itself influenced Supernatural, too?

A lot of scriptural and liturgical vocabularly and cadence is hardwired into the lyrical use of the English language via influential sources like the King James Bible and the Book of Common Prayer.

"I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition," tells us a boatload about Castiel's mindset before he even reveals to Dean that he's "an angel of the Lord". Then he's taken aback when Dean doesn't believe him - challenges him and keeps on pushing back; Cas expects this shit to be hardwired into Dean's brain and for Dean to respond accordingly by bending at the knees. Shock and awe using language.

They spend most of season 4 in that state of disconnect, barely communicating even when they both try, because Dean's just not doing "because it's God's will/because I say so", not for anyone or anything; he won't respond to that portentous vocabulary and Cas struggles to adapt to that (not least because he gets brutally punished when he tries).

Put 'em away Cas.

[aheavenofhell]

Sorry to all the people I thought were stupid and silly for thinking Aziracrow would dance when we found out the episode was called “The Ball”. I didn’t tell anyone but I thought you guys were really fucking dumb.

[amagnificentobsession]

Even when you’re not watching it……..

It happens. 🔥♥️

[binbogummy]

High Tea and Low Jabs

A random Good Omens ficlet? Yeppers! As with every new series I fall into, I got a burst of adrenaline and had to write something. It's just a little one-shot intened to be dialog practice since I'm getting used to the characters, but I wanted to share! And, of course, it's a reader insert.

~

The roar of your bike faded as you pull up along the curb of a quaintly familiar bookshop nestled amidst the bustling streets of London.

As you dismounted and stepped onto the cobblestone, you ran a gloved hand through your wind-tousled hair, and your eyes fell upon the shop's weathered sign—a familiar sight amidst the urban chaos.

"A.Z. Fell & Co."

All around it, the streets of Soho were a symphony of honking horns and hurried footsteps, a stark contrast to the soothing hum of your engine that had been drowning it all out just moments ago. The city's pace, while invigorating in its own way, always seemed to tug at the edges of your comfort zone no matter how many times you made your way through it.

Wasting no more time, you pushed open the doors to the bookshop, and were immediately greeted by the familiar scent of well-loved pages and aged ink as the faint jingle of bells announced your arrival. As the door closed behind you, the outside world's chaos was replaced by a sense of calm that only a place as special as this one could provide.

Your gaze swept across the cozy interior until it settled on a figure standing by the window. His back was turned, and he seemed busy, hastily organizing and putting away a small stack of books, but even from this vantage point, you'd recognize that silver hair and those chipper mannerisms anywhere.

He tilted his head slightly at the sound of your entrance, but remained too distracted with his work to turn around and recognize you.

"Good evening! Please feel free to look around." He called out, assuming you to be a customer. "I'm closing up a bit early today, so I'm afraid you'll have to make a bit of haste, but do let me know if you need any help~"

"Ahh, my bad, Aziraphale. " A teasing smile creeped onto your face. "I'll come back tomorrow then." You shrugged and tucked your hands into your pockets, your grin only growing wider when you saw him perk up as he recognized the sound of your voice

"My dear," he exclaimed, his voice filled with a genuine excitement as the books he was putting away were forgotten in favor of taking in the sight of you. "Why~ You're early!" He hurridly fidled with the lapels of his coat before rushing to close the distance between you, pulling you into a tight hug.

While you should have expected the affectionate gesture, you let out a small "oof" of surprise, momentarily stunned. His embrace was drawn out, almost as if intentionally to give you time to process it, and your flustered expression slowly faded to a soft smile. You returned the gesture, hugging him back slowly.

"It's good to see you," you murmured, your voice muffled against the fabric of his jacket.

"Likewise. Likewise, my dear," Aziraphale replied, releasing you but keeping you held at arm's length. His eyes were warm and fond as he took in your appearance, it was as if he was making note of every little change since the last time he saw you and committing them all to memory.

After a second, his eyes lit up in remembrance, and he finally released you. He spun in a small circle, his gaze darting around the bookshop, back to the books he'd been putting away and then back to the door before quickly stepping around you and flipping the sign to closed. "Come, come, let's not stand about here," Aziraphale ushered you away from the entrance with a gentle hand on your back, his excitement was contagious as he guided you further into the cozy embrace of the bookshop and his joy was evident in every step.

You chuckle softly, a mixture of embarrassment and genuine happiness bubbling up within you. "You seem awfully excited. It hasn't been THAT long since we last saw each other."

"Nonsense! One can never have too many happy reunions, don't you think? Besides~ I've been positively looking forward to this tea time since you agreed to come visit, you know."

You followed him, your smile growing bashful but you allowed yourself to be swept up in his enthusiasm. "Haha..., yeah, tea time. You were serious about that? Way to make me feel out of my element," You laughed.

Aziraphale beamed at your words. "Ah, well, tea time is a tradition close to my heart, my dear. Living in London as long as I have, it's not often I'm givin the opertunity to share these customs with someone as..." He seemed to pause, looking for the right word, "As uninformed of the finer graces as you are! And I must say, it's been far too long since we've had a proper catch-up."

"Oooh~ So I'm uneducated?" You fired back jokingly. "That explains it! You're just excited to finally be able to teach me some manners."

"Uninformed, not uneducated," Aziraphale corrected. " There's always room for refinement. And I must say, I do enjoy being the one to impart such knowledge." He finally came to a stop at a cozy corner of the bookshop where a small table was set up, shouldered by two comfortable looking arm chairs. "Sit, sit!" Aziraphale gestured towards one of the chairs. "I've just a few more things to tidy up and then we'll get right to it!"

You couldn't help but snicker as you settled into the chair, the whole situation and Aziraphale's ever welcoming attitude begining to feel comfortingly familiar. "Take your time. I'm sorry if I caught you by surprise."

"Oh, think nothing of it. I've been preparing all day, and I certainly can't complain about getting to see you sooner than planned!"

With the promise of a quick return, he hustled off to finish his remaining "closing duties". Not five minutes later, he returned from out of sight with a bountifuly assembled tea trolley, where an array of teapots, cups, and an assortment of treats awaited.

Your eyes widened a bit at the sight.

"When you said 'tea time', you weren't kidding." You mused, the whole display reminding you of something out of a storybook.

"Why, of course!" He clapped his hands together, delighted by your astonishment. "Can I assume I was correct in my assumption that you've never experienced first hand the joys of a traditional english tea time?"

"Ha... You'd be right." You admitted. "I think you know by now 'refinement' isn't really my area of expertise."

"Fear not, my dear. By the time we're through, you'll be sipping tea with the utmost elegance and grace!"

"Oh boy, I can't wait." You quipped with well-meaning roll of your eyes.

"First things first, let's ensure you're properly attired for the occasion." You raised a brow, unsure of what he meant until, with a flourish, he produced a neatly folded napkin from seemingly nowhere and rounded your chair to place it on your lap. "There, that's much better." He clasped his hands together, beaming down at you proudly.

The small, soft gesture was enough to wipe the smirk off your face, a reticent pink creeping onto your cheeks in its place. It seemed that no matter how many times you were subject to it, Aziraphale's effortlessly attentive nature had a way of bringing you to submission every time. The angle was nothing if not a genuine sweetheart, and your sarcasm couldn't begin to hold up, especially not when he seemed so excited for this.

"Now~ Let us begin!"

His movements were almost balletic as he began preparing the tea, his hands moving with a practiced grace that spoke of years of experience.

"As you can see, I've prepared quite the spread," Aziraphale announces proudly. "We have a delightful Darjeeling blend for our tea, accompanied by a selection of finger sandwiches, scones, and assorted pastries. But before we indulge, my dear, there are a few essential etiquettes we must go over."

You sat up straight, looking as attentive as you could. "Lay it on me!"

"First, we must allow the tea leaves to steep properly," Aziraphale explained, his voice taking on a soothing cadence as he poured the fragrant liquid into two delicate china cups. "Patience is key, you see. A rushed cup of tea is simply a tragedy."

The liquid was a rich amber color that seemed to shimmer in the warm glow of the bookshop's lighting. As he passed you a cup, he continued, "Hold the cup by the handle, of course, never the sides or rim. And don't stick your pinky out—," He raised a hand, catching you mid gesture, "that's a common misconception. It's all about elegance, not pretension." You laughed bashfully, doing you best to mimic his hand posture instead.

"When it comes to adding milk or cream, even an amateur knows to pour the milk into the cup after the tea, not the other way around. It's the only proper method to ensure the tea's taste isn't compromised."

"Like cereal!" You made a crude comparison with a goofy smile, but Aziraphale nodded, grinning at your enthusiasm all the same.

"Precisely! Though, some would disagree with both notions." His eyes rolled to the side at the thought with a brief look of exasperation, but his giddy smile was right back in place as he passed you the cream. "Now-" he picked up a small spoon, signaling you to do the same. "When stirring the tea, remember to use a gentle back-and-forth motion rather than a circular one. This prevents any unnecessary clinking sounds and maintains the tranquility of the moment.

"Back-and-forth, gotcha gotcha."

"Ah, yes, and sugar!" Aziraphale's eyes lit up as he moved on. "A touch of sweetness is a lovely addition to a cup of tea, but one must be cautious not to overdo it. After all, we wouldn't want to mask the delicate flavors of the tea itself."

He passed you a small bowl of sugar cubes, his expression earnest as he guided you through the process. "Simply take a sugar cube with the tongs, my dear, and gently lower it into the cup. Let it rest for a moment to absorb the warmth before giving it a delicate stir."

You did as instructed, pausing to examine the small cube of sweetness with interest before dropping it in your tea. If you hadn't been doing your best to play along on account of this being so important to him, you might have plopped one right into your mouth to see how they taste. Probably just like sugar, but still.

"Now, the most important part—sipping the tea." He slowly raised his cup to his mouth in demonstration, promting you to do the same once more. "Take small, delicate sips, allowing the flavors to dance on your palate."

As you brought the cup to your lips, you took a cautious sip, mindful of Aziraphale's gaze. The tea's warmth spread through you, and you couldn't help but smile at the taste. It was a simple pleasure, a silly one, but one that seemed to carry a lot of importance to the angel.

Aziraphale watched you with a mixture of delight and anticipation, as if he were waiting for your reaction to the tea itself. When he saw your smile, his eyes twinkled with satisfaction.

You let out a small hum, lowering your cup to the table in accordance with his.

Aziraphale's smile grew even wider, his satisfaction evident. "I'm delighted you like it!"

"Now, onto the matter of accompaniments." Aziraphale beamed. He gestured towards the assortment of finger sandwiches, scones, and pastries that adorned the tea trolley. "Perhaps start with a biscuit or two? With the basics out of the way, we can move on to the best part as we enjoy ourselves; camaraderie and good conversation!" He clapped his hands together with delight.

You had to admit you'd been eyeing the spread from the moment he rolled out the trolly and happily reached for a cookie. But the moment was quickly interrupted when a chilling breeze seemed to sweep through the room. A flicker of something dark caught your eye, and out of the shadows emerged a familiarly lean figure that seemed to materialize from the very darkness itself. Their eyes, hidden behind dark sunglasses, were fixed on you, but their expression was, at first, otherwise unreadable.

"Crowley!" You practically beamed as you said his name, biscuits long forgotten in favor of greeting him.

"And here I thought I'd locked the door..." Aziraphale muttered, more to himself than to you with a small roll of his eyes at the demon's dramatic entrance. But rather quickly, his usually smile returned, none the less happy to see the demon. "Crowley, lovely of you to drop in~"

Crowley's enigmatic smile slowly crept across his face as he sauntered forward, shedding his jacket with a theatrical flourish and tossing it out of sight without care. "Look who's back in town; the prodigal guest returns." Crowley mused before his eyes flicked to Aziraphale. "You might've mentioned you had company, Angel. I would've worn something more presentable." Crowley's voice was teasing, but there was an undercurrent of something else, a hint of bitterness perhaps. He strolled closer, and you grinned as he made himself comfortable leaning against your chair, sitting halfway on the armrest. "But nobody tells me anything~"

Aziraphale's face flashed a lighthearted look of exasperation, his mouth opening and closing as he stumbled over his words. "Crowley! I didn't think—I mean, It was all a bit of a last-minute arrangement, I assure you."

"He's right. Plus, you're not exactly the easiest person to get ahold of." You commented with a smirk and Crowley lulled his head to the side dramatically, lowering his sunglasses to look you up and down.

There was a long moment of silence, the grin on your face fighting not to turn to a laugh as you stared at eachother. Rather dramatically once more, he scoffed and sighed.

"Oh, don't look so happy now. One would think you're actually glad to see me." Crowley smiled slyly, fixing his sunglasses back in place.

You could only laughed at that comment and Aziraphale regained your attention with a cough. A hint of jealousy flickered in his gaze as he noticed your attention being pulled away from the tea party he had so meticulously orchestrated. "If you are going to stay, Crowley, at least have the courtesy to participate properly."

"Ah~ and what, angel, would I be participating in?"

"Isn't it obvious? Tea time, my dear Crowley, tea time! And a proper one at that!" Aziraphale declared, almost triumphantly, gesturing to the china and assorted treats on the table. His eyes sparkled with a childlike glee, his enthusiasm for the tradition and formality of it all not at all dampened.

"Tea time?" Crowley cocked a subtle brow, glancing to you with an inquisitive smirk. "The angel's finally got you on that, has he?"

You giggled and nodded. "Aziraphale's been giving me quite the lesson in 'tea etiquette.'"

"And what do you think about it so far? Worth all the pomp and circumstance?"

Before you could answer, Aziraphale huffed indignantly, his cheeks still tinged with a faint flush. "Now, now, Crowley. There's no need for such sarcasm. Tea time is a time-honored tradition, and I believe our friend here is enjoying it quite thoroughly."

You nodded, your gaze shifting between the two as you fought to suppress more laughter. "Absolutely, Aziraphale. I appreciate all the effort you put into this."

If you didn't know better you'd say the grin Aziraphale wore after that was a smug one.

"See, Crowley?" Aziraphale said, sounding more than a little pleased with himself. He turned his attention back to you, his eyes bright with genuine affection. "The pleasure is all mine, my dear. It warms my heart to be able to share these traditions with someone as dear to me as you."

Crowley, not to be outdone and always happy to interrupt a nice moment, leaned over and mockingly inspected the tea trolley. "You'd think if they were that dear to you, you'd shill out a little more to eat than this pigeon picnic. This is hardly a meal, Angel. I've seen more substantial fare in bird feeders."

Aziraphale tutted in disapproval. "Indulgence is an essential part of any proper tea time, but moderation is key. It's not about the size of the meal, Crowley. A delicate balance must be struck between enjoying these delights and ensuring that the tea remains the star of the show. It's about the experience, the conversation, the ambiance—"

As amusing as it was, you were beginning to grow a bit worried by this back and forth.

"Ah, yes, ambiance," Crowley drawled, his voice dripping with exaggerated reverence before glancing back down at you. "What do you say, love? Want to follow this 'ambiance' with something a bit more substantial? We'll go for nosh up in Mayfair then." Crowley offered casually, nodding towards the door, and your expression lit up at the offer.

"That means get food, right?" You questioned with a rather doe-eyed enthusiasm and Crowley, pursed his lips to suppress a smile, patting you on the shoulder.

"Yes," he nodded with a satisfied expression, "that it does."

You grinned widely. The proposition was appealing, more specifically, the idea of getting to spend more time with both of them, regardless of the setting, was appealing. But you were quick to return your attention to Aziraphale, wondering how he would take this intrusion into his carefully planned afternoon.

As expected, the angel's face had turned a shade redder, his lips pressed into a tight line as he tried to contain his irritation. "I thought we were enjoying ourselves here," he said, a hint of hurt creeping into his voice.

"We are, Aziraphale," you were quick to reassure him, reaching out to pat his hand. "Everything is perfect." You were sure to emphasize, glancing to Crowley as you said so to make a point, as well as unintentionally prompting Aziraphale's ever subtle air of smugness return. "And if we do go out later, Aziraphale's coming too. Right, Crowley?"

"Of course~ Of course~ I thought that was implied." Crowley's grin widened, and he grabbed himself a chair, pulling it up to sit with the two of you now and looking quite pleased with himself. "See, Angel? We can have our cake and eat it too." He plucked a tea cake from the tray, holding it up in brief demonstration before taking a satisfied bite.

Aziraphale let out a long-suffering sigh but finally relented, his face softening as he looked back at you. "Well, if that's what you want, my dear, I suppose I can't object. But you must promise to enjoy every last bite of what I've prepared here first. I simply won't allow your first proper tea time to be derailed or distracted by the promises of this... dark varlet." He looked Crowley up and down with a prudish expression, but it was all very playful as he was already pouring the demon his own cup of tea.

"Oh, angel, you flatter me~"

"Sounds like a plan!" You agreed, smiling at both of them, and with Crowley included now, your very first tea time resumed.