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knaccblog · 8 months

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Aziraphale and "I Forgive You"

So after I watched the first season a few times however many years ago, I noticed something, wrote up a bit of a meta about it and then never posted it. I thought that it was either very obvious or very silly and either way, no one needed to see it. But now it's several years and another season later and again, I'm noticing the exact same thing so here it goes- I think the reason Aziraphale keeps saying that he forgives Crowley has overall very little to do with what Crowley has just done right before Aziraphale says it and much more to do with a secret Aziraphale hides deep within himself and has for thousands of years, a truth that he hates to acknowledge and is terrified to speak aloud: he thinks God is wrong to have not Forgiven Crowley.

Get settled in because this is gonna take a bit.

The first time I started noticing this really clearly is the Bandstand Breakup scene. Crowley starts by cussing God literally out- "For the record, great, pustulant, mangled bollocks to the Great blasted Plan." To which Aziraphale says, "May you be forgiven." And yes, Crowley has just sinned and Aziraphale is a stuffy angel but the way Aziraphale says it is like a hope, atleast to my ears. Like he's really wishing that God will see how good Crowley truly is and bring him back to Heaven even though he keeps doing stupid stuff like this

Anyway, Crowley then responds with, "I won't be forgiven. Not ever. Part of a demon's job description. Unforgivable. That's what I am." And Aziraphale responds again with a hopeful sounding, "You were an angel once." At this point, I was almost sure that he's talking about his personal wishes here. It sounds like he's saying, "Come on, Crowley. There's a chance." To which Crowley responds, "That was a long time ago," basically saying it's impossible and shutting that whole bit of the conversation down. And you can just watch Aziraphale's face fall at that, like it kills him for that to be true.

The next time the topic of forgiveness and Crowley comes up is when Crowley shows up to beg Aziraphale to run away with him one last time. In this conversation, Aziraphale is very adamant that if he talks to the right people, they won't want the apocalypse and they'll stop it. He, of course, thinks this because his most core belief is that God is good and that even if we don't understand how what God is doing is good right now, it will lead to goodness eventually via the Rube Goldburg machine which is time and the universe etc aka God is ineffable. But even Aziraphale can't imagine how the ineffable Rube Goldburg machine could turn an event where everything on earth dies into a good one so therefore, he's certain that God doesn't want the Apocalypse.

Crowley responds to this hope with, "You're so clever. How can someone as clever as you be so stupid?" to which Aziraphale responds, "I forgive you" in a very gentle but sure tone. And now yes, while it is entirely possible that Aziraphale is forgiving Crowley for calling him stupid, I've always felt like that would be a rather weighty response considering how mild an insult it is. It's also possible (and I feel slightly more likely) that Aziraphale is forgiving Crowley for his lack of faith, his inability to believe in the goodness of God anymore.

And that could definitely be it, but if we think about the way Aziraphale had talked about forgiveness at the Bandstand, the hope and desire that he seemed to put into the idea of forgiveness and Crowley and the fact that Crowley had dismissed it as entirely impossible for him to ever be forgiven, than a third read of Aziraphale's "I forgive you" emerges: one in which Aziraphale is saying, "While God might never forgive you, I do". It's "I might never see you again since you intend to run away to the stars but if this is the last time I ever see you, I want you to know that I think you are deserving of forgiveness. That I see the good in you even if God can't." It's a combination "I love you" and small rebellion against God, because while Aziraphale can't bring himself to give up on Her completely and run away with Crowley (even though a part of him clearly wants to), he is willing to say that She's done this one thing wrong and it's never forgiving Crowley, who Aziraphale can see clearly is more kind and good than any of the angels he knows.

So yeah, that was about where the idea rested at the end of the first season but now we have a bunch of new historical scenes and a new "I forgive you" following a very loaded conversation in which Aziraphale got extremely excited by the idea of Crowley being reinstated as an Angel and I felt like this idea has even more legs than before.

To me, it's very clear that Aziraphale's pitch for Crowley to come back to Heaven isn't him hoping to "reset" Crowley to how he was before the Fall or him being incapable of loving Crowley as a Demon and instead was him being overjoyed to have this secret truth (Crowley is deserving of God's Forgiveness) that he's been observing for 6000ish years be acknowledged and have a chance to come to fruition. After all, as we saw this season (and honestly last season too but less pronounced), Crowley, current Demon Crowley, not the angel he knew over 6000 years ago, has proven over and over again just how truly good he is to Aziraphale.

For example, in the Job sequence, Crowley does a truly good thing that no Angel (beside Aziraphale) would do or even think that they should do and that is save Job's children. And through the entirety of this bit, Aziraphale basically always believes that he will. There are even two moments where Crowley tries his best to scare Aziraphale away, to play up being the bad guy (so as to better hide the con he's running and protect Aziraphale), but Aziraphale's faith in Crowley's goodness does not falter. At the end of the day, it seems clear that Aziraphale has more faith that Crowley will do the good thing, the correct thing than God. Conveniently for Aziraphale's faith in God though, not understanding how something horrible he hates will eventually lead to goodness in the long run is a foundational principle of said faith so his faith in God remains strong even after everything She and Heaven do to Job.

But his faith in Crowley doesn't require such a complicated work around. He believes Crowley won't kill children and he is correct. Though unfortunately, this very simplicity leads to a new problem, a problem that we can see eventually solidify in Aziraphale's mind, becoming a running theme of their association and leading to the eventual "I forgive you"s.

Aziraphale can clearly see how kind and good Crowley is, how he does the right thing as best he can, even when he could (and sometimes does) get into immense trouble for it. But for some reason, despite repeated evidence that Crowley is everything that Aziraphale believes Angels are and should be, Crowley continues to be a Demon. And once you realize that Aziraphale has noticed this contradiction and that it most likely haunts him and is a constant challenge to his worldview, it colors a lot of what he says in a new light. Many of what seem like simple, self-righteous statements reveal themselves to be Aziraphale trying to protecting himself from a massive logical inconsistency he keeps stumbling across.

"It must be bad, otherwise you wouldn't have tempted them into it," Aziraphale says, clearly not quite sure why it's bad actually.

"You, I'm afraid, are evil," Aziraphale asserts, basically stating that Crowley is evil because he's evil. It's tauntological and therefore doesn't have to make sense. (He says this one shortly before Crowley saves Elsbeth from suicide, poverty and damnation.)

"So this is all your demonic work? I should have known," Aziraphale says, thinking, "Aha, this time Crowley must have done the bad thing and therefore continues to deserve being Fallen." (Crowley has, in fact, not done the bad thing but shhhh, worry about that later.)

Once you notice this self defensive habit, you can't unnotice it really, it's just so present in Aziraphale's logic and speech. Aziraphale even at one point says, "Still a demon, then?" after the Ark and Job and Jesus because on some level he probably doesn't want to actually evaluate, it makes no sense to him that Crowley is still a Demon, especially when he has also sinned in a few ways (lied to Gabriel, thwarted the will of God, technically gluttony etc) and nothing has happened to him, to say nothing for all the things Gabriel has done (or has just let passively happen without a thought to interfere).

So yes, I think the entire final argument plays out the way it does because Aziraphale thinks Crowley is good and deserves to be reinstated, to be forgiven by God more than anything.

He comes into their final conversation nervous but excited, to the point where he stomps right over what Crowley is trying to say. "You see I... I have some incredible good news to give you." The good news is for Crowley, you see, because Crowley deserves this and clearly being forgiven like he so deserves should logically make Crowley happy. It will make Aziraphale happy after all.

Aziraphale then starts to describe the conversation that he had with Metatron, stating that he thinks he might have misjudged him. And why would he think that he misjudged the angel who had told him point blank to his face that "The point is not to avoid the war, it is to win it" about the Apocalypse? Well, it's not because he's offered the job of Supreme Archangel, that's for sure. As we can see in the flashback, Aziraphale seems nervous and uninterested in the job at first. He says clearly that he doesn't want to go back to Heaven and even brings up a very half assed excuse to try and weasel out of it, a soft no of, "Where will I get my coffee?"

No, instead, the clear, obvious point where Aziraphale changes his mind about the job and about the Metatron is when he offers to reinstate Crowley as an Angel. Metatron has, quite accidentally (I think? I don't think he actually knows Aziraphale's secret soul), just said one of the most faith affirming things he possibly could to Aziraphale, "We can correct that little error that's been bothering you. You are completely correct that Crowley deserves God's forgiveness."

Given that, it's understandable that Aziraphale is absolutely bubbly about Crowley's reinstatement when he mentions it to him, like the best thing ever has just happened to him even though he's talking about something that will happen to Crowley and not him at all. "You could come back to heaven and- and everything. Like the old times, only even nicer." (Nicer because this time, they are in love. Nicer because they'll both be powerful enough to make a difference.)

Some other bits of Aziraphale's dialogue from this scene that make so much sense through this lens are:

After Crowley tries to reiterate his constant stance that both sides are bad actually, and mentions how he rejected Hell's offer to work with them again, Aziraphale misses his point completely and says, "But well, obviously you said no to Hell, you're the bad guys. But Heaven, it's the side of truth, of light, of good." Aziraphale's faith in the potential goodness of Heaven and the actual goodness of God is unflappable but so is his belief that good is what Crowley wants to be doing. Like of course a good soul like Crowley would reject working for Hell again but why would he reject a chance to do good like he's sneakily been doing all along? (Aziraphale here ignores the fact that he's also had to sneakily do good on the side sometimes even though he was always working for "the side of good" but that is very par for the course for him sadly.)

The lines, "Come with me- to heaven. I'll run it, you can be my second in command. We can make a difference," are a particularly telling set. Everything about these from the high position he's offering Crowley to the "We" scream that Aziraphale trusts Crowley, a Demon, to guide Heaven the correct way more than any angel already in Heaven.

Aziraphale's final, desperate argument also lines up well with this (as well as featuring Aziraphale more completely referencing how he wants him and Crowley to be together romantically). "Come back, to heaven. Work with me! We can be together. Angels... Doing good. I- I need you! I don't think you understand what I'm offering you." Like is the "I need you" here romantic? Definitely. But it's also Aziraphale again affirming that he trusts Crowley to lead him the correct way ie goodness, because, as it's been shown to us many times (and focused on particularly in this season), Crowley will do and always has been doing the correct thing as best he could while Aziraphale would dither and be locked into passivity (like in The Resurrectionists).

So yes, after many attempts to explain to Crowley how he should be in Heaven, doing good and Aziraphale needs his help and one last desperate kiss from Crowley, we reach the final dreaded, "l forgive you." And yes, maybe Aziraphale is forgiving Crowley for not having faith that they can fix heaven, for abandoning him, for kissing him so suddenly. But I hope, after everything I've laid out here in this essay, you can also see why I think Aziraphale is saying, "Even as you reject God's forgiveness and leave me behind, I still see that you are good and know you deserve it so I will forgive you anyway." And maybe, even though it's still blasphemous to disagree with God, it's less scary for Aziraphale to say "I forgive you" one more time than tell Crowley that he loves him for the first time. He is very good at forgiveness after all.

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seven-stars-in-his-palm · 6 months

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fuckin nanowrimo progress (i'm strugglin') (day 10)

OKAY WE’RE AT THE ONE THIRD POINT!!!! TWENTY MORE DAYS!!!! (19 now, but STILL!) let’s see what we got….

words written: 800

writing sessions had: 1

percentage of manuscript completed: 40% :)))

goal reached?: no… but then again I am ahead of schedule. so it’s okay!!! *grits teeth*

scenes/chapters worked on: 2, chapters 5 and 7. finished up the Direct aftermath of affliction, now we’re on our way to the bookshop. the second was some more dialogue for the Flood, our first minisode, which I definitely mentioned before but I’m refreshing u. liked em!

interactions written: just aziraphale and crowley today, and crowley being his violently anxious self :) this fic was meant to force me to write other characters interacting with each other other than those two, which has Kinda been accomplished so far?? but also not really. then again they are the main characters of This story. hmmm

curse words/nicknames (in-world and otherwise) used: zero, but it was going to be six. crowley was gonna silently cuss out the radio and also was going to call aziraphale angel once in Mesopotamia, but I realized that probablyyyyyyyy isn’t gonna fly in that time period. crowley doesn’t Really start calling aziraphale angel in a not literal manner until the Job job….

amount of breaks had in between: none! proud of me .

random thought of the day: okay so using aziraphale’s sickness to convey how he feels about accidentally reawakening crowley’s fear of hell when it was already starting to stir with being kicked out of his flat . yeah that sounds good and totally not heavy handed *made me cry*

#I just can’t see him like that. why #remembering the stars #nanowrimo update

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whiskehorange · 4 years

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Can I get some comfort from Crowley and Aziraphale, either separately or together. Just like how they would comfort someone going through some stuff and struggling

I’ve been wanting to write about these two for so long

Aziraphale

He insists that you talk to him, he makes for a very good listener. But advice on the other hand, might not be the best. He can see options that would be suitable for angels to take, but you humans worry so much about such small things

Of course, he wouldn’t tell you that. Even though Aziraphale is a little hesitant and over thinks how to give affections, he’s there for you. How about the two of you take the day off and go out for brunch?

He specializes in distracting you feeling down, mostly by accompanying you to a show, a movie, lunch, or even just being there to listen to you talk

But he worries about you all the time. Spilling things you’ve said accidentally to Crowley, but he knows he won’t tell. He just gets so worked up in trying to find a solution to make you happy that he just sort of rambles on

Happily closed the book shop for the day, declining every call in order to stay by your side and give his full attention to you. Would... you perhaps like to read about the beginning of time? He’s more than happy to tell it to you first hand! How about some real Shakespeere?

He’s just so cheery all of the time that it really isn’t hard to smile when you’re around him. His - literal - aura juts seems to rub off on you. Every time you give him a faint little smile he can’t help but cheer for you, praising you about how sweet you look when you’re happy

And it doesn’t take him long to find out that you’re not in too good of a mood, Azi only wants you to live long and beautifully, so anything he could do to help you please, let him know!

Crowley

It takes Crowley a bit longer to catch on to your feelings, but once you declined his invitation to brunch with Azi, he insisted that you tag along.

His tough love comes across very nasty as first, but he only means good. You’re reminded of just how much you mean to him, even as a human and that you’ve only got so long on this Earth, so why spend it mopin’ around?

Come on, he’ll show you a good time. He’s got a lot of stories to share with you, hopefully to put a smile on your face. Really about everything and anything you’d like to hear about

He mainly just tries to talk you out of being upset about something by talking because he isn’t the best at giving the sort of lovey dovey advice that Azi does. He figures, if he can distract you with something fun and relieving that you can see that it’s not very “fun” to be down

But if you must rant, he is there. He suggests buying plants to talk to, they make fine listeners and they can’t tell anyone. If you need to, come talk to his, they’re very polite

Those late night walks around the city are frequent between the two of you, sometimes to the park, other times to Aziraphale’s book shop for some peace and quiet. Perhaps a ride in the Bentley?

He’s always on your side, really. His voice might be stern but if it’s someone that’s getting on your nerves he turns into a complete mean girl. Nothing but insults to them

But his pep talks are also the best. He’s real with you, no sugar coating like Azi suggested, straight facts, literally. There’s no way you’re gonna go around in this world without knowing what you’re getting into

Although, he does also always frequent Aziraphale when he needs advice on what advice to give you to if it’s that big. He doesn’t want to go around telling you things that won’t help, but he can try

Hey, cuss it out. It helps, he promises. Music too, jam out with him, he’ll bring over the vinyls

#aziraphale #crowley #good omens #insufferable husbands

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ourownsideimagines · 5 years

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Anger Comes In Many Forms (Aziraphale x fem!Reader)

Characters: Reader (Female), Aziraphale

Requested: Yes

Requested by: @walrusgoddess

Point of View: Third person omniscient

Warnings: Cussing, violence (not a lot), and soft bean Az, and ALMOST NO EDITING

Words: 2379

A/N: OKAY LISTEN, so I had something planned out w/ the reader and Az coming back from the shop from lunch and being harassed (and the reader of course sticking up for Az), but then I had the most wonderful idea of her just fucking decking Gabriel and had to write it. I hope this fits your idea hun!

—

Aziraphale did not get angry often. Some people would assume he didn’t get angry at all -- these people, of course, were wrong. Crowley knew that best, from experience. The angel has been a little more than irked by his fallen friend. His girlfriend has also learned this oddly fast, after experiencing a fight between her angel and his favorite demon. She didn’t have the faintest idea what the argument was about, because as soon as she’d entered the shop Crowley excused himself and stormed out, leaving her to calm down Az.

(Name) on the other hand, had a bit of a tempter, and often it got her into trouble. She’d given Az heart attack on multiple occasions when she would tell off a man twice her size for cutting them in line, or when she would tell men who were very obviously a part of the mafia to fuck off when they entered the bookstore. He loved her dearly, but her temper was going to kill him one day.

Today might as well have been that day.

Aziraphale had told (name) about his boss, Gabriel, on a handful of occasions. Often in complaints about how the archangel didn’t care about the end of the world, and would let everyone burn in the fires of armageddon.

(Name) had never met Gabriel, but she already hated his guts.

She remembers when Az had come to her, upset, because he’d tried once more to convince Gabriel that there was something they could do and he not only rejected the idea, but had made a rude comment about his weight. That was the final straw for (name), and she was prepared for murder.

(Name) had been away from the shop, grabbing some lunch, trying not to think of the fact that the world could end at quite literally any minute. On her way back, she could smell smoke in the air and began to worry. It was when she saw the roaring flames spilling out of the bookshop doors that the food left her hands, and her feet carried her to the building.

She ignored the pain of forcing the doors open, and flung herself inside.

“Aziraphale!” She shouted, but got no response. “Az!” With an arm out in front of her, she took a step towards the backroom, but was stopped when a beam fell from above, effectively blocking her path.

The world around her began to spin, and (name) began to cough violently.

“Aziraphale!” Someone cried from behind her. “(Name)!”

“Crowley!” She called back. The demon came into sight, storming his way towards her. Tears fell from her eyes, both from upset and from the fire. “He’s gone!” She sobbed. “I left to get lunch, and when I got back… Oh god, Crowley.” (Name) let out a low, pained moan as the demon dragged her into his arms, protecting her from the fire.

“Some bastard,” Crowley growled, making sure nothing fell over the both of them. “Killed my best friend.” He hissed. The two didn’t stay much longer in the shop, knowing that it would kill (name) to stay in there. After grabbing something off of one of the tables, Crowley lead her to his car, tossing his ruined sunglasses away in the process, allowing (name) for the first time to see the yellow snake eyes Az had once offhandedly mentioned that the demon had, when she had asked why he wore them all the time.

“Get in.” He all but snapped, trying to collect himself as he got in the driver's seat. (Name) got in beside him, not strong enough to make any arguments.

“He’s gone…” She croaked.

“Discorporated.” Crowley hissed. “And the bastards probably won’t even give him a new body.”

And Crowley was right. Because as (name) and Crowley sat at the bar, Crowley drunk, and (name) halfway there, Aziraphale appeared to them, albeit transparent to say that he’d left notes in the prophecy book they’d accidentally taken from the girl they’d hit with Crowley’s car (of which, conveniently, was the book Crowley had taken from the shop).

That’s how you found yourself stuck in traffic on the way out of London, towards Tadfeild, and why Crowley was suddenly cursing himself for messing with the shape of the M25.

“Come on, there must be some way across this.” Crowley muttered, reaching over you to grab the prophecy book. “Burning roads. Did you predict this, Agnes?” As Crowley began to flip through the pages, a hand reached of from the backseat, causing (name) to scream and jump away. Hastur crushed the new pair of glass with his hands and tossed it onto the seat beside him as Crowley grimaced. He then pulled you closer to him, in case Hastur got any ideas.

“You’ll never escape London.” The duke said matter-of-factly. “Nothing can.”

“Hastur!” Crowley said icily. “How was your time in voicemail?”

“Funny ha-ha, joke all you like, Crowley.” Hastur grumbled. “There’s nowhere to run.”

“Aren’t you to be lining up, ready for battle around now?” Crowley gave (name) a light squeeze when he realizes just how nervous she had become.

“Hell will not forget.” Hastur replied. “Hell will not forgive. You know where the real Antichrist is, don’t you.” Even (name) knew it wasn’t a question. “You’ll never reach him. You’re done Crowley. You think you’re going to get the both of you across that?” The flames before the car seemed to grow at the duke’s words. Crowley used his free arm to select a CD, much to (name)’s confusion. “There’s nowhere to go.”

“Let’s find out.” Crowley slipped the CD into the player.

“What- wh- why are you driving.” (Name) could hear the distaste in Hastur’s voice.

“Crowley,” She muttered.

“Trust me on this,” He mumbled back.

“That’s- what- Stop this thing!” Hastur demanded, and (name) slowly began to recognize the tune of Queen’s ‘I’m in Love With My Car’.

“You know the thing I like best about time?” Crowley drawled. “It’s that every day it takes us further away from the 14th century.” Crowley kept an arm around (name), and one hand firmly on the wheel. He gave her a tight squeeze. “I really didn’t like the 14th century. You’d have loved it then, Hastur. (Name), not so much. They didn’t have any cars back in the 14th century.” Crowley continued to speak as they drove closer, and closer to the raging fire. (Name) had half a mind to force the wheel to the other direction, but she was too scared to even more let alone tussle with the kind demon.

As they plunged into the fire, (name) was surprised to find that it was not hot -- whatever Crowley was doing to keep her safe, she hoped it would last, because even from her seat she could hear Hastur’s skin bubble and ignite. She tried to ignore his screams of pain, and Crowley’s howls of laughter, or the way he screamed at the burning car even after they’d finally exited the fire and entered the London rain.

The next few events happened in a blur -- they arrived at the Tadfeild Naval base, where (name) discovered that Aziraphale had taken possession of an older woman, who herself was accompanied by an older gentleman. They’d followed a group of four kids, led by the Antichrist, onto the base.

(Name) was shocked when Az pulled a gun on the Antichrist, and almost tackled him was it not for Tracy taking control back momentarily, causing them to misfire into the air.

“Why are you two people?” The Antichrist, Adam, asked. Az began to stumble over his words, but Adam stopped him. “I think you should go back to being two separate people.” At his words, Tracy’s form became distorted, and out of her Az stumbled ungracefully into (name). She almost cried in joy, throwing her arms around him. She pulled back suddenly, frowning.

“Were you just about to shoot an eleven year old boy?” She glowered at him. His eyes widened.

“I- oh - ah- Yes! But he’s the Antichrist!”

“He’s a child, Aziraphale.” She scoffed. “If I remember correctly, even you believed in nurture over nature.” That seemed to shut him up, if only momentarily, as they watched Adam’s three friends use a flaming sword to defeat three of the four horsemen.

“Wasn’t that your sword?” Crowley asked.

“Yes,” Az said. “Yes, I do believe it was.”

“You had a flaming sword?” (Name) asked. “Did you lose it?”

“Now I… gave it away.” He said, his cheeks flushing pink. (Name) would have questioned it further if not for Death’s departure. “See Crowley, it’s like I said-”

“Oh it isn't over.” Crowley said, shaking his head. “It’s far from over. Heaven and Hell still want their war.” Crowley stepped away, towards the children. “You, boy. Antichrist. What was your name again?”

“Adam Young.”

“So your friends got together and saved the world. Well done, have a gold star, won’t make any difference.” (Name)’s head swamped with confusion as a man and woman approached, the woman shouting at Crowley about how he had stolen her book, of which he tossed back to her. A slip of burnt paper floated downward, which Az caught, but would not let (name) see before slipping it into his pocket.

(Name) jumped out of her skin when a crack of thunder rang through the air, and a bolt of lightning struck the ground behind them. Az held her close as a nicely dressed man appeared, another figure appearing shortly after, rising from the ground, a gigantic fly adorning their head like a hat. They approached, moving past the group to stand on the other side of them.

“Lord Beelzebub.” Crowley said as he did an over exaggerated bow. “It’s an honor.”

“Crowley.” Said Beelzebub. “The traitor.”

“That’s not a nice word.” Crowley grimaced as he stood back up

“All the words I have for you are worse. Where’s the boy.” Crowley turned to look at Adam.

“That one.” The nicely dressed man spoke. “Adam Young.” He moved closer to the kids, stopping a few feet from Adam. “Young man… Armageddon must.. Restart.” He said with an unconvincing smile. “Right now. A temporary inconvenience cannot get in the way of the greater good.” By now, (name) had determined from Az’s previous descriptions that this was Gabriel, and that he was just as much of an asshole as he had been described. She watched as, together, Gabriel and Beelzebub attempted to convince Adam to restart armegeddon.

“Excuse me,” Az began to move closer to Adam, you following along, not wanting to leave his side, and him not wanting to argue. “You keep talking about the great plan.”

“Aziraphale, maybe you should just keep your mouth shut.” Gabriel demanded.

“One thing I’m not clear on.” Az ignores him. “Is that the ineffable plan?”

“The great plan!” Beelzebub snaps. “It is written. There shall be a world, it shall last for 6000 years and end in fire and flames.”

“Yes, yes, that sounds like the great plan.” Aziraphale gave your hand a tight squeeze as he spoke. “Just wondering. Is that the ineffable plan as well?” That’s when the realization hit (name) -- neither of them knew. Of course they didn’t know!

They just wanted war.

“Well, they’re the same thing!” Gabriel exclaimed after a few tense moments of silence.

“You don’t know.” Crowley and (name) said in unison, catching attention. Crowley sauntered over to stand with his friends.

“You know, it’d be a pity if you’d thought you were doing what the great plan said, but you were actually going directly against God’s ineffable plan.” Crowley looked around as he continued. “I mean, everyone knows the great plan, yeah? But the ineffable plan… It’s well… It’s ineffable isn’t it? By definition we can’t know it.”

“But…” Beelzebub frowned. “It is… written.”

“God does not play games with the universe.” Gabriel argued.

“Where have you been?” Crowley scoffed.

“Obviously not on earth.” (Name) muttered as Gabriel took aside Beelzebub to speak. (Name) turned again to Az, about to say something when the archangel shouted.

“Well at least we know who’s fault it is!” He snapped, eyes landing on the group. (Name) had had about enough of him, and tore herself away from Az to take the few steps to Gabriel. Az and Crowley both called to her, curiosity laced in their worry. Gabriel sneered down at her. “And what do you want-”

(Name) had only punched two other people in her lifetime, one of those being Crowley (for reasons she would rather not mention), the other being her older brother. Neither had felt as satisfactory as landing a perfect punch on the angels stupidly perfect face. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Beelzebub was almost amused by the situation as Gabriel held his face. (Name) didn’t know if it was out of actual pain or from surprise, but she glared at him all the same.

“That’s for calling my boyfriend fat you bloody prick.” She spat. “And for all the other times you treated him like shit.” There was suddenly a hand on her shoulder, and she allowed Crowley to pull her back towards the group.

“She-“ Gabriel resurfaced, hand still over his face, but (name) was satisfied when she saw the slow drip of blood onto the pavement. “She broke my nose!”

“Oh, get over it, she could have done way worse.” Crowley gave her a knowing glance and she looked away sheepishly. She ignored the constant returning glare from Gabriel as he and Beelzebub promised to tell Adam’s father (Satan) about him ‘misbehaving’. As they finally disappeared, (name) brought herself to finally look at Aziraphale, whom had been staring at her with flushed cheeks.

“Did you… did you really do… that,” He fumbled over his words as he took a step toward (name), his cheeks only burning hotter as he refused to meet her gaze. “Did you just punch an archangel… for me?”

“I’d have done much more to that asshole if Crowley hadn’t pulled me away.” She promised. She grabbed his burning cheeks and planted a soft kiss to his lips. “No one insults my angel and gets away with it. I’d do anything to protect you, my love.” Az pulled her into a tight hug, too flustered to do much of anything else.

“Hey, you two.” Crowley said. “There are kids, don’t go getting call cutesy.” You rolled your eyes, but gently took your significant other's hand, prepared for whatever might come next, because he was at your side.

Then, the ground began to shake.

#good omens #good omens x reader #aziraphale x reader #aziraphale #x reader #aziraphale good omens #crowley x reader platonic #my writing #reese writes #reader inser #female reader #fem!reader #Aziraphale x fem!reader

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pengychan · 4 years

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[Good Omens] Winging It - John 15:15

Summary: Shockingly, attempting to destroy an angel without consulting God first comes with consequences. There is more than one way to fall, and a thousand more ways to inconvenience an angel and a demon who just wanted to be left in peace. Characters: Gabriel, Crowley, Aziraphale, Beelzebub, Michael, Uriel, Sandalphon Rating: T

Prologue and all chapters are tagged as ‘winging it’ on my blog.

A/N: A good chunk of what happened in this chapter was not planned. I am really bad at planning.

***

“All right, let’s see - three options, no?”

“Yes. Owen Brown, Lawrence Brown, and Rusty Brown. According to the information--”

“It’s Rusty,” Crowley spoke up, causing both Gabriel and Aziraphale to fall quiet and turn to look at him. Gabriel was utterly confused; Azirapale just raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain that knowledge. The demon shrugged.

“I refuse to believe any parent whose surname is Brown would willingly choose to pick Rusty as their child’s name, unless there was a demonic intervention. It’s a bully magnet. Must have picked it himself when older. The man’s got a sense of humor.”

A chuckle. “We raised a child whose mother named him Warlock,” Aziraphale reminded him, causing Gabriel to blink.

“You did-- what?” he asked. To his knowledge there were a lot of things an angel and a demon were not supposed to do together - they were supposed to do nothing together, really, except trying to thwart each other at every turn - and Gabriel suspected that ‘raising a child’ came rather close to the top of that list. Maybe slightly below ‘stopping the Apocalypse’.

Crowley ignored him, rolling his eyes. “You know the Satanic nuns of the Chattering Order of St Beryl must have had something to do with it.” “The who and the what now?” Gabriel tried again. This time, it was Aziraphale to ignore him.

“That is… fair. But we cannot rule out the possibility his parents did pick the name, and that therefore he is not our man. May I remind you we once knew a lady called Farting Clack?”

Crowley chuckled. “Ah, Victorians. That was a fun time. Except when we argued because you wouldn’t give me holy water.”

“I did eventually, give it a rest.”

“You did what!” Gabriel exclaimed, outraged. Only to be, again, ignored.

“Took you a good while, is what I’m saying.”

“Well, excuse me for worrying you might accidentally--” Aziraphale trailed off like something had struck him, and Crowley flinched. They both turned to Gabriel at the exact same time; Aziraphale’s eyes were wide, Crowley’s were hidden behind glasses.

And Gabriel was very, very confused.

“... What?” he asked. The demon’s expression stayed unreadable, but Aziraphale’s anxious one melted in a smile. A very nervous smile. What in the--

“So, three options,” Aziraphale exclaimed, clapping his hands together with exaggerated glee. “Best to start looking into them, no?”

“Er… yes, I suppose. I do need to figure out where they live, at least. Then I suppose I can go by exclusion, visiting each of them.”

Crowley nodded. “Well, good thing we have an expert in tracking people down right here,” he said, and turned to Aziraphale. Gabriel followed suit, only for Aziraphale to blink at both of them like a particularly confused owl.

It… didn’t give Gabriel much confidence over his supposed expertise in tracking down people.

“I am-- no expert in tracking down people.”

Crowley’s turn to look confused. “You tracked down the Antichrist.”

“I had a book full of prophecies to give me pointers. I suspect that counts as cheating.”

“Or as an intelligent use of available resources,” Gabriel suggested. Aziraphale chuckled.

“That does sound better.”

“Ah. Right. We sure could use something like that now,” the demon muttered, and pulled out a phone from the… frankly ridiculously tiny pockets of his trousers, where no phone would fit unless there was a literal miracle at play. “... But at least we have the names and birthday, so there’s that. All right, first one, Owen Brown…”

***

“You’re shitting me.”

“Mr. Brown, I can assure you angels do not do that, either.” Uriel’s voice was calm, but her hands did grip the clipboard a little harder. She had hardly ever visited the lower spheres of Heaven where mortal souls resided before that ordeal, and now she was beginning to see why. “Please, do try to control your language.”

“Right, right, sorry,” Daniel Brown waved his hand, leaning back on his seat. “Not in front of a lady. Got it.”

“... I am an angel, Mr. Brown,” Uriel pointed out flatly just as the man’s wife, sitting by him, raised an eyebrow.

“Since when do you try not to curse in front of ladies? Because I can’t recall you holding back much in the twenty-something years we have been married.”

“You’re not a lady, you’re the wife. You knew the cussing was part of the package by the time we got to the altar, shouldn’t have married down,” Daniel Brown pointed out, and smiled. “Still not a clue why you gave me a chance when we met.”

She smiled back. “One too many drinks.”

“Ah, a drunken mistake, then.”

“The second best mistake of my life.”

“... Wait, what’s the first--”

Uriel held back a sigh. “Yes. Well. Regardless, what I have told you is true. You do have a brother as opposed to a sister as you believed.”

Daniel Brown rubbed his face. “Jesus Christ.”

“I repeat, there is no need to involve him,” Uriel droned. Mortals were a lot more difficult to deal with than she remembered, but then again last time she had directly dealt with any had been a few millennia earlier, when the trend was showing up with several pairs of wings, a few heads, wheels of fire and a handful of eyes here and there. They would occasionally die of fright but for the most part, once the screaming had ceased, they were cowed enough to politely listen.

And never did accuse them of, quote, shitting them.

“Right, I-- sorry.” He cleared his throat. “I just-- it’s a lot. First I die, it’s kind of, I mean, new. Then I met my wife again - wonderful, don’t get me wrong, but I thought I had lost her for-- well, it is a lot.” He cleared his throat again; Liv Brown reached to take his hand and squeezed it. He held it back. “Then, turns out the slightly weird but not-bad-at-all guy who helped me land a job and befriended me was the literal Archangel fuck-- the Archangel Gabriel in exile. And now you’re telling me that Alison is not… Alison anymore, and that I wasted over a decade searching for her-- him-- on wrong information.”

Well. Perhaps it was, indeed, a lot to deal with for any human mind. Uriel made an effort to smile. “Gabriel is currently working on locating him so he can give him news of your passing. If there is anything more specific you wish him to know, within reason--”

“Within reason?”

“Except letting him know you’re sending this message from beyond death. That, I am afraid, is forbidden by current guidelines.” Uriel took a blank piece of paper she had on her clipboard and placed it on the table, along with a pen. “It will be given to Gabriel, and he’ll relay your message once your brother is found. It’s what he does best, after all.”

“... Heh. From announcing the birth of Christ to telling my brother I’m sorry I was a dick. Bit of a downgrade, but life is shi-- crap, anyway.” Daniel Brown chuckled and took the pen, but didn’t start writing yet. He looked at her questioningly. “… Why was he cast out? What happened?”

He’d asked before, and Uriel had told him it was none of his business, if not precisely using those exact words. When that had happened, her memories of Gabriel were few and in-between, and she was no longer sure the events had been precisely as they’d remembered and recorded for future reference.

Now that those memories were back - only of Gabriel, none of them had dared bring up the possibility of trying to remember other angels who were no more - she could tell him the details, if so she wished.

She did not, in fact, wish to. But it was not for her to decide.

“... I will ask Gabriel whether he wishes us to share that information with you,” she finally said. Daniel Brown seemed to realize it was the most he could hope for and he just nodded before he looked down, swallowed, put the pen to the paper, and began writing.

***

“He’s writing back!”

“Is he?”

“Yes. That’s what the dots mean. He’s typing.”

“This was… surprisingly easy.”

“Oh, I know. Whatever demon worked on Zuckerberg got a promotion, I heard. Got to admit, that Cambridge Analytica affair was a stroke of genius.”

“Ah, so that was Hell’s doing.”

“I’m amazed you doubted that for even a moment.”

Gabriel supposed he might have guessed what Aziraphale and his demon were talking about if he focused, but he did not: all he could do was stare at the screen of Crowley’s phone, at those dots as the man at the other end - Rusty Brown, a man with rather debatable taste in t-shirts who, according to his profile, had indeed been born in Plymouth seventy years earlier but did not resemble Daniel in the slightest - wrote his response.

Maybe it is him, he thought. It would be a stroke of luck for Daniel’s brother to turn out to be the only man they’d been able to find and approach through social media; an easy way to deliver a message if there ever was one. That would be good. Too good, given Gabriel’s recent luck.

And, within moments, a message came to confirm as much.

“I’m afraid you got the wrong man, I have two sisters and no brothers,” Rusty Brown had written. “Sorry - best of luck with your search.”

Aziraphale sighed. “Ah, I supposed that would have been too easy.”

“No such thing as something too easy. I like it when things are easy.” Crowley frowned at his phone. “And here I thought he was the most likely candidate. Let me see…” he mumbled, and began typing. Gabriel craned his neck to see the screen.

“What are you doing?”

“Checking if his sisters are among his friends.”

“... Why?”

“If their parents went and named him Rusty, I’m curious to see-- ah, Scarlet and Sandy Brown. Not sure I want to imagine what grade school was like for them,” he muttered, and blocked the screen. “Well. One’s out, two left.”

“And we did find one Owen Brown on the electoral register whose age fits,” Aziraphale added glancing at Gabriel. “If only we could figure out the place of birth, we’d know if he’s the Owen Brown on our list. But it’d be quicker to go speak to him, he lives in Luton. No phone number - probably no landline.”

Gabriel, who had only a very vague idea of where Luton was, nodded. “I’ll go find him, then. I took the rest of the week off specifically for this,” he added. What he was doing for Daniel was of paramount importance, of course, but he was also needed at work and disappearing with no warning would have been extremely unprofessional.

Aziraphale waved a hand. “It won’t take long. Crowley and I can take you--”

“Absolutely not," Crowley declared, cutting him off. Aziraphale turned to glance at him. Crowley crossed his arms and tilted up his chin, clearly ready to stand by what he’d said.

A sigh. “Crowley, it wouldn’t take more than--”

"We're not going with him. We'll put him on the first train, give him a map, and good luck to him."

"Now, dear. Luton is not that far, it would take less than a hour with the Bentley and you wouldn't even need to take the M25--"

"It’s not the M25 that’s the problem,” Crowley replied. “After driving down it while on fire, I don’t think it’s going to ever feel like a problem on a normal day again. Luton is the problem.”

"... Something in particular about it that I don't know about?"

"Last time I was there, I got stabbed."

"Oh. That does sound bothersome,” Aziraphale conceded. “What did you do to--"

"I walked in a pub."

“And then?”

“Nothing. I walked in a pub and got stabbed by someone who decided he didn’t like the way I was looking at him.”

“Were you not wearing sunglasses?”

“Of course I was.”

“Then how would he know--”

“He didn’t. He just was in a stabby mood.”

“Charming,” Aziraphale muttered.

“Luton,” Crowley huffed.

“Well, it was probably quite a while ago--”

“The Nineties were not that long ago.”

“I… can go on my own,” Gabriel dared intervene, trying not to sound overly worried by what he was hearing. “I’ve taken trains to come here, after all. It wasn’t difficult.”

Aziraphale seemed a little concerned regardless, but in the end he relented, and Crowley did drive him to the station the next morning, to catch a train for Luton. With that, the address and money for a cab, Gabriel was rather sure he was at no risk of getting lost.

And he’d make sure not to step in any pub, just in case.

***

“... Not the bloke you’re looking for, no. Sorry, mate.”

“Ah-- well, I suppose it was worth a try. I’ll be on my way. My apologies for the intrusion.”

“No, wait - I was about to go have a pint with some mates, come with us. It’s on me.”

“Really, I cannot accept--”

“You can, young man. Won’t let you go your way looking like someone kicked you. A pint or two always makes it better - just a quiet night out with the lads.”

“Well…” Gabriel hesitated a moment, then relented. A pint or two was nothing he couldn’t take - he’d had nights out like that in Southampton, first with Daniel and then with other colleagues. And besides, the man was in his late sixties; surely, things wouldn’t get too out of hand. In the end, he smiled and nodded. “... Only if you let me pay the second round,” he said.

He did pay the second round. Owen Brown paid the third. A friend of his paid the fourth; Gabriel insisted to pay the fifth.

Afterwards, he wouldn’t be entirely sure any of them was paying at all.

***

Ever since regaining his memories of Gabriel - and before then, really - Sandalphon had wondered what meeting him face to face again would be like. Last he’d seen him, Gabriel had been terrified of him, hiding behind Beelzebub of all beings; it was not a pleasant thought.

He could speak with Michael without fear now, at least, and Sandalphon hoped it was only a matter of time before he would willingly summon him, too, so that they could talk. Clear up, if possible, even if it would be a difficult conversation.

What he had not expected was for Gabriel to summon him by drunkenly shouting his name in the back of a pub in Luton, England, before the eyes of a group of drunken humans who cheered at his appearance like it was a magic trick while someone from inside yelled about not firing fireworks close to buildings.

And Gabriel looked… almost more dishevelled than he’d been when he had been cast out of Heaven, except that now he had No blood on him and a smile on his face almost too wide to be physically possible.

“San-dal-phon,” Gabriel had slurred, throwing an arm around his shoulders before he could say a word and turning to the humans. “This is my friend, guys!”

“I, uh…” Sandalphon had blinked as the humans raised their glasses and cheered. He chose to give a polite smile. “Greetings,” he said. Some responded to his greeting, some just drank, someone put a glass in his hand, and he stared at it for a few moments before realising they expected him to drink.

“Good,” Gabriel was muttering, arm still around his shoulders. Strange as his behavior was, it was… nice to see he was not afraid of him. “Good stuff. Try.”

Ah well, Sandalphon thought, may as well do as he asked. It wasn’t like a glass of whatever concoction the humans had offered him could hurt an angel, anyway.

***

“Uuuugh.”

“Owww.”

“Head hurts.”

“Where are we?”

“... Earth?”

“This isn’t Heaven for sure.” Gabriel sat up, fighting back a wave of nausea, and blinked blearily to put his surroundings into focus. They were in… someone’s back garden, it seemed, on what looked like a semi-inflated camping mattress. “Probably still Luton,” he muttered, rubbing his face, and turned. Whose house was that? He’d only seen Owen Brown’s home from the front, so it was hard to tell. God, they must have been blind drunk to crash like that. The sun was just rising, and he barely remembered a handful of moments from the night before.

Behind him, Sandalphon was struggling to sit up as well, his suit all wrinkled; Gabriel suspected his own suit looked about as much of a mess, and went to uselessly smooth down the front. “You… miracled the glasses full a few times, didn’t you?”

“I think? I-- ah, yes. Yes I did. In front of witnesses.”

“Drunk witnesses. They will either forget about it, or think they dreamed it up.”

“God, I hope so. If Michael finds out, I’m going to be in trouble.”

“You can sleep on my couch if they cast you out,” Gabriel tried to joke, trying to brush back his hair and entirely missing the uncomfortable look Sandalphon gave him. “Agh, my head…”

“Wait, I can fix that.” A touch on the back of his head, and the pain was gone - as was the hangover as a whole, the unpleasant taste in his mouth and the ache in his lower back. Gabriel stood, glancing down - his suit was once again clean and pressed, too.

“... Thanks.”

“No problem.”

He heard Sandalphon standing up as well, and turned to look at him as he miracled his own clothing back in pristine condition. He adjusted his collar, and cleared his throat. “Well, that was… an unusual evening.”

“It was,” Gabriel agreed. “Er… why are you here in the first place?”

“You summoned me?”

“I did?” Ah, he probably had. “... My apologies. I was intoxicated.”

“I could tell. But-- still better than having you scream and hide behind the Prince of Hell, no?” Sandalphon added, clearly trying to joke. His smile froze when Gabriel flinched - at the mention of Beelzenbub, namely, but Sandalphon couldn’t tell. “I mean-- sorry. Shouldn’t have brought it up. I know you have… good reason to want us to keep away.”

A sigh. “Do I?” Gabriel muttered, turning to face him fully. “I knew you wouldn’t have harmed me again. And I knew you didn’t have a choice when you did."

“But we sort of did,” Sandalphon said, meeting his gaze. “We could have refused and-- gone with you.”

“Rebelling to God on my account?” Gabriel repeated, and found himself unable to contemplate the thought. “You’d have found yourselves in Hell, and not Earth, for something like that. It doesn't bear thinking about,” he added, realizing the truth of it only as it passed his lips. Say that Michael, Uriel and Sandalphon had indeed refused to carry out God’s order - what then? They would have faced God’s wrath, probably thrown down in Hell, while Gabriel was stripped of his wings and cast down on Earth anyway.

And Gabriel found he couldn’t bear the thought.

“We… we should have--”

“It doesn’t matter. The outcome wouldn’t have changed,” Gabriel cut him off. “It was… out of your hands. No point thinking about it now.”

A long breath. “All right. But I am-- glad we still remember you.”

Something about those words warmed up a spot in Gabriel’s chest. He smiled. “Thank you. I’m glad I never forgot you.”

“If there is anything you need-- anything at all--”

A sudden whistling noise caused Sandalphon to cut off, and Gabriel to pull out his mobile phone from his pocket. The battery was still full - a little miracle by Aziraphale ensured it never ran out - and there was a flashing icon on the screen, that of a text message. The number was not among his contacts, but Gabriel suspected he could guess who it came from.

He simply didn’t really know anyone else whose number could possibly be 666-666-666. No one he was on speaking terms with, anyway.

Are we still on speaking terms?

Gabriel forced himself to ignore the thought, and opened the text message. There was a name, an address, followed by only three words: it is him.

Gabriel read the message again, then put the phone back in his pocket. He briefly touched his breast pocket, where the message Daniel had written was. He had memorized it, of course, so he could relay it to his brother, but what he hadn’t thrown it away; the reason why he had not were a few brief lines Daniel had written on the back of it that were not addressed to his brother.

They were addressed to him.

Thank you for doing this for me. Sorry I didn’t believe you when you said who you were but, I mean, come on. I miss having you around. You’re a good man, what does God know anyway? Hug my brother for me and give the guys at work a pat on the back. PS - Fabrizio was right, putting cream in carbonara does land you in Hell. Warn Łukasz to stop.

“Gabriel? Everything all right?” Sandalphon asked, and he looked up.

“... Yes. I do need a favor, though.”

“Anything.”

“Could you give me a lift to Devon, by any chance?”

***

In the end, Lawrence Brown hadn’t moved too far from his old home in Plymouth. Or maybe he had, and made the decision to return to Devon in his later years; not something Gabriel could blame him for. Built by the sea, Paignton seemed a good place to live.

The house Gabriel found himself looking at, too, seemed the perfect place to spend one’s retirement; a small white cottage with flowers in the garden, and a tree for some shade. However it seemed that no one was home, which was not something Gabriel had really prepared for. After knocking the door a few times to no avail, and briefly considering writing a message with his phone number - not viable, as he didn’t have a pen - he decided it would be best to try again later. Before he went, however, he tried to glance in through the window, just in case--

“... May I help you?”

A voice called out behind him, causing Gabriel to flinch and turn. He found himself facing what, for a moment, looked very much like a cloud; a very white and very fluffy cloud, with four legs, black eyes and a lolling tongue. A-- yes, a dog. Gabriel had been long aware of their existence, of course, but would never cease to be perplexed by the sheer variety of shapes and forms within what was essentially the same animal.

He’d never really wondered how humans had achieved that, but then again, humans were capable of more than he had thought possible for a long time - up to looking at some of God’s most efficient killing machines on Earth and somehow deciding they were going to make friends out of them, tying themselves to said killing machines with a length of rope. Or leather. Or fabric.

In this one case, it was leather specifically that tied that giant, smiling cloud of a dog to its human. A woman, somewhere between sixty and seventy, with gray hair pulled up in a bun, a rather oversized jumper, and thick black-rimmed glasses. She was looking at him questioningly, and Gabriel cleared his throat, giving his best smile.

Come on, he told himself, you’re the Messenger. You have delivered far odder messages than this one. Just don’t start with ‘do not be afraid’. They always freak out when you do.

“I think you may, yes,” he said, still smiling. “My name is Gabriel Archer. I’m looking for Mr. Lawrence Brown. I understand he lives at this address?”

“Oh,” the woman said, “I’m afraid my husband is out for some errands, but he should be back shortly. I don’t believe we’ve met,” she added, not stepping closer. A little wary of a stranger she found peering through her window - Gabriel supposed that was normal, even if he hadn’t showed up in the midst of golden light with a vast array of otherworldly and, he could see it now, frankly unnecessary features for the task.

The fluffy white cloud made a boofing sound, just kind of smiling at him, and Gabriel could see why she wasn’t counting too much on it being of any protection should he turn out to be… what did humans seem to fear again? Axe murderers? Gabriel certainly hoped he didn’t look like one.

“No, we have not,” he said. “Nor have I had the pleasure to meet your husband yet - I have… a message for him. From his late brother,” he added quickly.

Whatever she had been expecting, that was not it. She blinked, recoiling a little. “... From his brother?” she repeated.

“Yes. Daniel Brown,” he said, and saw some recognition in her eyes.

“He… talked about him, a few times, but not much,” the woman muttered, and it was easy to tell, from her expression alone, that it had been a sore spot for Mr. Lawrence Brown - the brother who had rejected him so long ago. She finally took a step forward, clearly reassured he was someone with an actual reason to be there that did not include mugging or violent murder. “Late-- has he passed away?”

“... I am afraid he has. I am sorry,” Gabriel murmured, and he truly was. It felt wrong, on every level, because it should have been Daniel to stand where he stood, to finally see his brother again after so long. He was meant to be a messenger but ah, he wished he didn’t have to be now. “I am here on his behalf, or… at least I picked up the search where he left off.”

“Are you his solicitor, or…?”

“Only a friend. Daniel had been looking for your husband to make amends, but he didn’t know… his current name.”

A sigh. “Of course, he would not,” she murmured, and finally stepped closer, holding out her hand. By her side, the cloud-dog kept wagging its tail, tongue still lolling. “I’m Berenice,” she said. “Lawrence’s wife, though you gathered that much. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Archer. ”

Gabriel smiled. “The pleasure is all mine,” he said, shaking her hand. When he let go of it, it immediately went to rest on the dog’s head.

“Well, it is awfully rude of me to keep you standing at my door like a salesman. Do come in. Lawrence should be back soon, or else he would have taken his walking stick. I still would very much prefer if he took it for short walks as well. He has a bad knee and I always tell him that his stupid kneecap doesn’t give a toss how long or short the walk is, when it decides to give in it gives in and he’d be in for a nasty fall without the stick. But he’s a stubborn old goat, of course. Pushing seventy and still acting like he’s twenty.”

Gabriel smiled, thinking back of the numerous occasions Daniel had insisted on picking up more weight than he could reasonably carry in the warehouse, just to show off, only to spend the entire evening complaining about his back ache… and then do it all over again the next day. “Seems stubbornness ran in the family.”

A chuckle. “I am sure he’ll be glad to hear more about what his brother was like,” she said, her voice tinged with sadness. Gabriel hoped it would help, although nothing could change the fact he was there to inform Lawrence Brown of the untimely death of his younger brother.

“... I do hope I can give him more than bad news,” he said, and followed Berenice inside, daring to pat that dog-shaped cloud on the head to receive a soft boof and a very pleased look.

Maybe, Gabriel reasoned, the humans were on to something when they took killing machines and chose to make friends out of them.

***

"I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you." -- John 15:15

***

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18 notes · View notes

thealogie · 5 years

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u said the other night that u would explain the "you go too fast for me" line, i'm not the anon that asked about it but if u would be willing to do so still, i would love to hear ur thoughts. i have a straight friend who laughed at it bc they interpreted it as the surface level "crowley drives really fast" and thought it was intended as a joke and i don't know how to explain to them the depth of that line and i was hoping ur reading ur thoughts might help me articulate mine. thank u

oh yeah absolutely. I should have known that my adhd would get in the way of me remembering to explain it without that ask there to remind me!

Ok I feel like you’re asking me to explain it to people who literally do not have any media literacy so let me take it truly step by step.

Step 1: writers, actors and directors use subtext in film. Literally all stories have SOME KIND of subtext because stories suck without subtext. subtext can be things that are implied about a character’s feelings (eg we kind of know han and leia have feelings for each other before they tell us so), it can be symbols you use to encode your story with political/ideological messages (famous example: the eyes in the great gatsby...the light in the great gatsby...gatsby in the great gatsby), and you use it to create tension and raise the stakes in a scene by making the scene be about two things at once, a surface level thing that moves the story forward and s secondary thing that moves character forward...I wish I could think of any other famous example off the top of my head but the one they use in so many writing classes is basic instinct...the detective interrogates sharon stone “what’s your new book about?” She says “about a detective who falls for the wrong woman.she kills him.” She’s implying he’s gonna fall for her etc. This is super obvious but there can obviously be subtler examples

Ok so premise 2: it’s more likely that a scene or piece of dialogue or plot point serves a purpose beyond its literal meaning when reading it literally (and only literally) would render it completely superfluous to plot or character. This is especially true of gay coding in film. is there any point to Plato having a picture of Alan Ladd in his locker or swinging around a rubber hose like that in Rebel without a Cause if NOT to tell us he’s gay? 10/10 film teachers (all across the Kinsey scale) say nope all of that is there to Drop Hints He’s Gay. Ok at this point if your friends go “obviously that’s just a prop not a plot point that has another purpose as well”...he’s a great example. in BBC Merlin when Arthur is dying he gives his seal to someone to take back to Guinevere, naming her as his successor and then he goes off with Merlin who is trying to cure him and then he dies in Merlin’s arms...on the dvd commentary, as he hands off the seal, the writer of the show said “oh there goes the last vestige of his heterosexuality—i mean marriage!”...like yeah he was half kidding but writers absolutely know this stuff and they know use of subtextual cuss creates a subconscious impression in the viewer’s mind, leading them to the right emotional place (in the Merlin example, even if you don’t read the handing off of the seal as a symbol of him saying “goodbye to his heterosexuality,” it gives you the mental impression that he is easily parting with Gwen and going with Merlin).

Finally in the context of that actual scene: 80% of the conversations aziraphale and crowley have in that montage are completely unnecessary to plot. it’s all about character. By the time we get to the car specifically, we already know aziraphale is anxious about rules but willing to break them, we know these two like each other and we know crowley likes to be nice to aziraphale. So what possible new thing could they communicate? well, lots. even without a gay reading...we get that aziraphale cares enough about crowley to specifically break a rule for him, that he’d rather do this than see crowley in danger, and we also get that crowley wants to hang out and is disappointed that aziraphale won’t come with him. Up to the point where crowley offers to give aziraphale a lift as a thank you, you can be like “ok even if I read this at a surface level, I’m getting new character information, this all makes sense and is communicating new information to me” but it’s utterly pointless to have crowley offer a SECOND TIME and insist “I’ll give you a lift anywhere you want to go” and it really serves no purpose for aziraphale to say “you go too fast for me” in THAT voice if NOT to tell us a subtextual GAY story. What does it add to the story for crowley to offer again and for aziraphale to say I can’t come with you because you go too fast if NOT to also communicate to us something about their relationship? even if you don’t read it romantically it’s just so clear that it communicates crowley being needy and aziraphale being unwilling to get on crowley’s level about breaking the rules/being friends. But it’s clearly romantic (like deliberately meant to build up subtextual “oh it’s forbidden” romantic tension). Look at the performances and directing choices! They matter! he doesn’t say this line in a funny way...this could have been played as a joke. Like aziraphale was using heaven as an excuse the first time he said no to the ride but actually he’s been trying hard to hide that he’s scared of cars going too fast!! I know it doesn’t sound like a good punchline but I could 100% direct that scene to be incredibly funny with no dialogue change. You just need to change the tone and pacing to set up “you go too fast for me crowley” as a comedic reveal...but he says it softly....he says it super seriously and sadly......why.....WHY......

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