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ao3cassandraic · 9 months

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What does Aziraphale know and when does he know it? Part 3, The Fiasco

Prologue, Part 1, and Part 2, for those who need them.

Let's play an incredibly clichéd game about acting: What's My Motivation?

When Aziraphale walks back into the bookshop after his chinwag with the Metatron, Crowley's motivation is singular and steel-strong: he wants to declare his love for Aziraphale and truly launch Our Side. That's it. That's all there is.

If only things were so clear for our poor angel. If we accept my prior analysis, at this point he's got several things he needs to do, all of them in the name of thwarting the Metatron's wiles:

Like Shax, inform Crowley that something -- something still unclear, but definitely something -- is going down in the up. Up up. (Beautiful bookending here. Beautiful.)

Beg for Crowley's help to...

Make a plan to deal with it. (And he's all out of plan-juice after the demon fight in the bookshop, poor angel.)

All this without letting the Metatron know that Aziraphale doesn't trust him, didn't buy his bullshit, doesn't want to accept his job offer but may have to accept to have any chance of thwarting him (or, you know, surviving), and thinks the whole business reeks to (you should excuse the expression) high Heaven. He has reason to think this feat can be pulled off, because he knows from the chinwag that the Metatron is neither infallible nor omniscient.

So yeah, I think there's some playwright or screenwriter slogan about characters who are talking to one another having completely different conversations at the same time? Totally what's happening here.

In a truly remarkable bit of dramatic irony, Crowley, who is usually a stickler for kayfabe, has utterly dropped it -- he's being gorgeously heart-on-his-sleeve sincere -- while Aziraphale, who is often slack about kayfabe, is playacting for the Metatron's benefit like their lives depend on it. This... doesn't help them get on the same page. (Litotes. Your key to quality meta.)

Let's see how that works out for them.

As Nina and Maggie leave after blowing Crowley's brain to smithereens, Aziraphale continues taking deep breaths to pull himself together, pasting on a smile for the ladies... and, as it turns out, for the Metatron watching from across the street.

He who hesitates is lost; the determined, singleminded Crowley starts in. Aziraphale tries non-verbally to stop him. That's what the hands-out pushing-down-and-away gesture is -- with a quick sidewise glance out the window toward the Metatron, no less. But Crowley will not be stopped, so Aziraphale has to use his words -- "hold that thought."

Not "no." Not "I'm talking blithely over you for no reason." Just "not now, please, I need help." And again, I can't blame him. He does need help, urgently, because whatever bullshit the Metatron laid down about "take all the time you need," he's expecting an answer from Aziraphale (and it jolly well better be "yes" at that) and worse, he's not leaving the vicinity to wait for it.

So Aziraphale starts explaining the Metatron's offer, sounding rather forced and inarticulate. None of the bodily markers of true Aziraphalean joy are present. He's holding his torso straight and still, and his hands are not doing the shoulder-level wave of joy -- they're doing the aimless-gesture dance of anxious confusion.

He says, "The Metatron... you know, I don't think he's as bad a fellow -- well, I think I might have misjudged him."

When Aziraphale's happy, he tosses around words like "nice" and "kind" and "good." Did y'all hear any of those words? I didn't. I heard another covert call for help: I misjudged the Metatron, Crowley, he's not as bad as I thought -- he's so, so much worse! And he rather reasonably thinks Crowley will pick up on this because they've played a lot of rounds of the kayfabe clue-dropping improv game over the millennia, the last round not fifteen minutes ago.

Then Aziraphale recounts the chinwag. His words appear accurate (the cuts back and forth to the chinwag itself are pretty seamless), though again, we don't know what he might be leaving out.

Crowley is distracted from his purpose by the raised bribe. "He said what?!"

If I'm Aziraphale in this moment, with the Metatron all but physically dragging me back to Heaven, I would want Crowley with me there in the worst way! Going to Heaven together, rather than Aziraphale alone, might be the start of a plan capable of thwarting the Metatron! So I don't think Aziraphale's starry-eyed statement of the offer is about wanting to change Crowley (though the implication absolutely is there for us to pick up on and dislike). I don't think it's about keeping Crowley safe, either -- anyplace with the Metatron in it is categorically not safe. It's a "yes, actually, this might work! do you think it'll work? will you come with me and see?"

Aziraphale then puts on the unhappiest happy-news performance ever. No happy hands. No shoulder shimmies. His voice is in its highest, most anxious register. His smile is decidedly tense and kayfabe-y.

Over the next part of the fiasco, Aziraphale figures out that Crowley hasn't picked up the kayfabe phone; the angel's face visibly falls as he listens to Crowley rant. Crowley's taking all this seriously -- which is also reasonable; Crowley's being honest and Aziraphale, historically, mostly ignores kayfabe. And this is a problem, because Aziraphale still needs Crowley to locate a clue, still needs a plan, still needs help.

So Aziraphale calls back to the s1 bandstand: he starts telling the same old whoppers about good and evil and Heaven and Hell, whoppers so transparent to Crowley (and likely enough to fool the Metatron, what with his contempt for everyone ever) that Crowley must pick up on the kayfabe, mustn't he? Mustn't he?

But he doesn't. Crowley doesn't pick up on it. (Again, fair. He's had to put up with centuries of Aziraphalean unexamined self-righteousness.) He just says "Tell me you said no," with a strong undercurrent of "if you actually care for and value me, you bloody well said no."

And Aziraphale can't, because the Metatron is watching, explain that he didn't say no because the Metatron was not taking no for an answer, and because Aziraphale himself doesn't know what to do, which response will lead to a Metatron-thwarting. He's running out of kayfabe lines to say that will get Crowley back onside, and this desperation shows in his face and his two or three fruitless attempts to speak, before he finally says, sincerely to my ear, that he could make a difference.

Which is what he's trying to do! It's his motivation! He wants to make a difference by thwarting the fucking Metatron! Which may well mean going back to Heaven!

But this isn't the meaning that Crowley hears (and a lot of us missed it too, me included at first -- no shade, Gaiman and Sheen did a lights-out job of trick-with-the-truth with that line). Crowley hears that Aziraphale wants to go work with the Metatron to do Heaven's will, and he'll trample Crowley's very identity to do so. So Crowley, still singleminded, still determined, now as desperate as Aziraphale to be understood, finally forces himself as close as he can get to a declaration of love.

Watch Aziraphale as Crowley declares them a team, a group. He glances out toward the Metatron again. He looks anxious and unhappy, hardly the face of an angel whose long-time unacknowledged partner is finally acknowledging their partnership. This isn't what Aziraphale needs just then. Just then, Aziraphale needs Crowley's help, and he can't for the life of him figure out how to tell Crowley that without tipping off the Metatron to the kayfabe. He's failed at it how many times by now?

Then Crowley pulls a second bandstand: "we can just go off together." Aziraphale, as other meta-ists have noted, can't say yes to this any more than he did in s1. He's got a Metatron to thwart! So he shakes his head, and he begs Crowley to come with him, repeating that they can make a difference. That's sincere! He wants them to! But, to my ear, there's still a teensy bit of possible kayfabe in there, with "second-in-command." That just rings false.

"You can't leave this bookshop." "Oh, Crowley. Nothing lasts forever." Kayfabe, kayfabe, kayfabe -- Aziraphale is a guardian and an avowed and demonstrated preservationist. This line is for the Metatron to buy and Crowley to finally do a proper WTF about.

And Crowley WTFs, all right, but in the wrong way, putting on his shades and heading for the door. Now Aziraphale is truly desperate -- he tries to call Crowley back, and he tells another part of the truth: "I NEED YOU!" To help. To thwart the Metatron.

And yet another part of the truth, duly kayfabed, with the angel starting to be a bit irked at Crowley's stubborn misapprehension: "I don't think you understand what I'm offering you." Namely, a chance to thwart the Metatron.

Crowley sure doesn't. He suuuuuuuuuuuure doesn't. He's still having a completely different conversation. Aziraphale gives up in exasperated despair: "then there's nothing more to say." And on his face at that moment: calculation and displeasure, because he still has a Metatron to thwart and it's looking like he'll have to do it alone.

Only Crowley has more to say, about the absence of nightingales and us-es. And Aziraphale's face is all are you fucking kidding me with this shit? Aziraphale still has a Metatron to thwart, and if Crowley won't help, the least he can do is get out of the way, as Aziraphale made him do in their earlier argument over helping Jimbriel.

He looks away, giving Crowley the chance to jump him, haul him in by the lapels, and kiss him. Because that's the conversation Crowley's been having all along.

If I'm Aziraphale in this moment, my brain is exploding in several directions. I have a Metatron to thwart. He's watching this drama from across the street. What is he thinking, and how do I deal with him now? I don't have Crowley's help to thwart him. With that in mind, do I accept or refuse the job offer? I have finally figured out the urgency of the conversation Crowley thought we were having. I'm so terribly sorry I didn't make any gestures toward that conversation, because -- Crowley is actually kissing me, there aren't enough WTFs in the entire history of the entire universe for this!

No wonder his hands are tentative. No wonder the camera doesn't let us see much of his face; the above is a lot to convey for even the mega-ultra-talented Master of Microexpressions Michael Sheen.

Aziraphale, shocked and irked and scared and brain-exploded and feeling new things, tries kayfabe (mixed with truth; he is direly irked at Crowley's obtuseness) one last time: "I forgive you." Surely this time Crowley's got to --

But no. Still no uptake. Crowley leaves. Fiasco complete.

Next post will be the last: The Aftermath. Plus some comment on this as, in my view, the most parsimonious and narratively accommodating read on the scene, ergo (again, in my view) the likeliest.

#gos2spoilers #gos2 spoilers #good omens season 2 spoilers #the fucking metatron #the final fifteen minutes #good omens meta #good omens #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands

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nofomogirl · 3 months

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Before the Beginning (part 1.3.)

Part 1.1. | Part 1.2. | Part 1.4.

The time has finally come for me to do something I've been both very excited about and terrified of ever since July - to analyze parts of Companion of Owls. Honestly, every scene in this minisode is so much, so dense and meaty and loaded, that I find it overwhelming.

But, as I've just said, the time has come.

The topic that interests us today - the fact that Crowley used to be an angel - is brought up in the courtyard of Job's children's house.

(...) A: I... I don't think... that is what God wants. C: Well... A: And I don't think you want it either. C: What do you know about what I want? A: I know you. C: You do not know me. A: I know the angel you were. C: The angel you knew is not me. A: Then... Then you tell me that you want to do this. You look me in the eye and tell me. C: I want to. I long to destroy the blameless children of blameless Job, just as I destroyed his blameless goats. A: Then God forgive you.

Oh dear, where do I even start?

Firstly, this exchange proves that Aziraphale has memories of Crowley from before the fall AND he's aware that the demon Crawley is that person he knew. We still don't know how much exactly Aziraphale remembers and knows, nevertheless, this is an important piece of the puzzle.

As to Crowley's response - it doesn't actually tell us as much. Unlike Aziraphale, Crowley is in a full bluff mode here and very keen to chase the angel away. Let's leave it for now.

Secondly - and for me this is really the crux of the scene - when referring to the demon's past angelic self, Azirhale uses the verb to know in the present tense (I know the angel), while Crowley says it in the past tense (the angel you knew). It's quite a big deal. It shows us that they perceive the object of that knowing - the object being pre-Fall Crowley - very differently. For Aziraphale, that person still exists, even though they're not an angel anymore. But Crowley speaks about this person the way you speak about dead people, closed chapters, and generally things with no significant connection to the present. He very clearly draws the line between his before and after while Aziraphale blurs it.

This is where things get complicated and I'm not sure how to present my thoughts in an orderly and comprehensible fashion...

God, this minisode is so much all at once!

Ok, let's start pulling at the thread about how Aziraphale was actually right about Crowley not wanting to hurt Job's kids.

The angel's own words suggest that he reached that conclusion based on what he knew about Crowley from before the Fall. He knew the angel who built the stars wouldn't do something like kill innocent children; he believed that the demon Crawley was still the same person as the angel who built the stars; therefore, he assumed that the demon Crawley would make the same decisions and act the same way and wouldn't kill innocent children. And he was correct.

What does that tell us?

Nothing definitive, actually. Because of course, it doesn't. It's Good Omens.

On the one hand, it may be a hint that Aziraphale does understand and see Crowley. Sure, the thesis of this whole sub-series (part 1 of the Before the Beginning series of posts) is that the Fall has fundamentally changed Crowley and that Aziraphale fails to realize just how deep that change goes. I still stand by it. But, true to the spirit of the show, it's not as black and white and clean-cut as it may seem at first glance. It's not as simple as Crowley understanding himself and Aziraphale being wrong.

Crowley is a trauma survivor and a lot of his behavior is coping mechanisms of various kinds. The way he separates himself from a past version of himself is certainly one of them. He is not objective and logical when it comes to the change he underwent. There are plenty of things about himself he doesn't understand because he's unable to calmly examine them. There are things he is in denial about. It's not exactly a stretch to think that he might actually NOT have changed as much as he insists he did, he simply finds it hard to identify with his past self. His before self. It's not exactly uncommon.

But on the other hand, how much did Aziraphale really understand?

Firstly, while he did correctly predict what Crowley would do, he didn't necessarily get why. He might have no clue what exact specific reasons made killing innocent children - just so God and Satan could settle a bet - so despicable for the demon. Because they might have been slightly, yet significantly different reasons than Aziraphale's.

Just look at the line Aziraphale throws Crowley's way while he's gorging on ox ribs and the demon lounges and drinks wine:

Come on, you're a little bit on our side!

Just because Crowley doesn't want kids hurt, Aziraphale jumps to the conclusion that his allegiance lies with Heaven in some way. Even though Heaven very clearly wants the kids hurt, so not the most logical conclusion...

It's quite evident the angel hasn't connected the dots as well as he thinks.

(By the way, we will get back to the dialogue that follows that line because it's just so... SO.)

Secondly, I suspect Aziraphale committed a serious logical fallacy here, which is reversing the entailment. His reasoning is that IF (A) the angel who built the stars wouldn't hurt children AND (B) the demon Crawley was the same person as the angel who built the stars THEN (C) the demon Crawley wouldn't hurt children. It is a logical statement. If A is true and B is true then indeed C must be true as well. Aziraphale either knows or simply believes A, believes B, and that leads him to the conclusion - C.

C turned out to be true.

I'm very much afraid that in the depth of his mind, Aziraphale has used it as proof that A and B, but especially B, are true as well. And this kind of reasoning is most definitely not correct.

If you have a statement like IF X IS TRUE THEN Y MUST ALSO BE TRUE it absolutely does not equal IF Y IS TRUE THAN X MUST ALSO BE TRUE. It just doesn't. Let's use an example. X = A brainrotten fan has bought a copy of Good Omens in an antique bookstore; Y = A brainrotten fan owns a copy of Goof Omens. If I know that you bought the book in an antique bookstore, I also know for sure you now own the book. However, if I only know that you own the book, I don't actually know if you bought it in an antique bookstore. You could have gotten it in dozens of different ways.

I'm hardly the first one to point out that the Job minisode shows us the seeds of a great many problems that bore fruit in the final fifteen. One of them is that Aziraphale's questionable belief that he understands Crowley really well gets validated and reinforced.

The worst thing is, that there weren't any chances to correct this mistake until it was too late.

During the events surrounding Job's trials, there was an unprecedented amount of soul-bearing between Aziraphale and Crowley. Well, objectively speaking the "bearing" was still just a few glimpses, nevertheless, it is more than we ever got to see on the show. Even the imminent Armageddon hadn't caused them to be so open and honest about their relationship with Heaven and Hell.

Ok, we're definitely not done with Companion of Owls yet, but I will stop here. See you in the next post.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #crowley #aziraphale #before the beginning #post series #companion to owls

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thesherrinfordfacility · 5 months

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i was rewatching s1 yesterday and i had a thought that is bothering me a bit.

thing is, as much as i love the flashbacks (i dare say sometimes they are my fav part of the episodes), i think they are messing up a bit with the storyline. i love that they show us how their relationship developed over time, but i think sometimes they’re going a bit too far considering the point we find them in different points of history.

you’re gonna tell me that the same aziraphale that went through everything they went through in the land of uz then could bot possibly think of helping crowley with the arrangement? that the same aziraphale that looked like that at crowley in 1941 then was like “heaven will win and it’ll all be rather lovely” when talking about the final war between heaven and hell?

if you think of the events in chronological order, they just, don’t make much sense.

oooooh anon i like where your head's at!!!✨

now, below the cut is a disgustingly long spiel going through each flashback and minisode, that tbh was just simply self-indulgent - a lot of it leans into philosophy and ethics (for which i also apologise but it's a Special Interest) and i realise that that may not have been - at all - what you were looking for in a response.

so, to give a tl;dr - i personally think the way that aziraphale parries back and forth in his character development makes perfect sense. it does seem very much like one step forward, two steps back, at times - that i grant you - but i don't think it was ever meant to be strictly linear as time has gone on. more that it's a delve into how and why aziraphale makes the decisions that he does, what factors might be influencing him to make those decisions/behave the way he does, and what this says to us about his reluctance behind the apocalypse and the events of s2.

pre-fall:

so to my mind, we immediately learn some crucial things about aziraphale, right from the get-go. he's polite, and kind - even without having really gotten a formative impression of the angel who crowley was (AWCW). but once he does (and develops his little crush), he becomes astutely interested in what AWCW's doing, asking questions about his work and its purpose. he shares information about his own work, not realising ahead of time that a) AWCW wouldn't have known the plan for his creation, b) how upset he would be once learning it. he's very cautious when AWCW starts getting lairy about it, intimating that he's prepared to challenge god (however innocuously he meant it) on her plan, and evidently feels - expresses - some kind of fear that it would lead to reprisal.

garden of eden (4004BC):

this is an aziraphale that seems very much to be proven right, when you take the above pre-fall context into account. the fall has happened, and aziraphale now is even more aware of the consequences of stepping out of line. but aziraphale is naturally someone who dances that line, when you consider that he gave away his sword - which he suspects to have been the wrong thing to do. so when confronted with crawly, this person that he used to know as an angel, it only hammers home that aziraphale has to behave, and be in fear of the worst possible outcome, which has now been actualised. the punishment - arguably the worst punishment possible for an angel - has happened, it's irrefutable, and there's nothing to say it can't happen again.

so aziraphale valiantly tries to remain the devout, loyal, upstanding angel - and at this point genuinely believes heaven to be the side of good and light, even if he panics when he acts in a way that shows his own true colours... ones that are arguably not very angelic at all (grey). he counters crawley with heavenly rhetoric when it's clear that he at least thinks crawly has a good point, he even laughs with him over a joke that could literally mean his own ruin, and abruptly catches himself, stops laughing. to me, he's scared and, by all accounts, has good reason to be.

mesopotamia (3004BC):

so here we come to aziraphale in the thick of attempting to be a true agent for heaven; we immediately open with him acting somewhat with unease at the proceedings, even before crawly appears (hands, shifting on his feet). once he has to explain to crawly what's going on, he shares the rumour (rumour, because the line is "from what i hear, god's a bit tetchy...") that god is wiping out the local population. crawly is obviously aghast, especially when aziraphale confirms the children too - but aziraphale is equally, albeit more taciturnly, repulsed by it. his meek, bracing, tight-lipped '...mhm!' pays testament to that.

but aziraphale, once again, cannot speak out against god and heaven - he simply can't, the risk is too great. plus... well, he has to have faith in god, that she is good and just, and this is all the right thing to do; what could it possibly mean if god is awful? aziraphale isn't awful, we know he's (by large) a naturally kind and gentle person - so if god is not that, and aziraphale loses faith, what does that mean for aziraphale? doesn't that make him bad? evil? so no, he has to rationalise for god, and heaven, and ultimately himself that this is all for a greater purpose - god isnt wiping out all the locals! she's going to put up a rainbow! promise not to do it again!

uz (2500BC):

okay big section (op note: first of many to come, as it turns out) here. for ease, im going to be writing the following with the below metas in mind:

that god doesn't actually intend/want to hurt the children, but to honour free will will not get involved (X)

an oddly poetic ditty on the lies in job, and seeing through them (X)

slightly unrelated but i think worth bearing in mind: i personally think the s2 minisodes are recounted from crowley's pov (X)

so aziraphale seems to have arrived in order to stop crawly getting up to some mischief, and is countered that crawly (on behalf of satan) has essentially been granted some kind of diplomatic immunity to carry out the destruction, namely, of job's goats, and his children. obviously crawly is going to do no such thing, but places the blame for the whole thing squarely on god. aziraphale, however, does not think that that is in fact what god wants (and tbh, re: the first linked meta, i think he's half-right). so, whilst still thinking that crawly is there to actually do harm, he tries to cajole crawly into doing the right thing. they then work out that, for all intents and purposes, they are actually on the same side by nature of sharing a common agenda. crawly tests him again in the mansion, but aziraphale has seen through him, and they remain united.

where it gets tricky is the ox-rib scene. aziraphale doesn't initially recognise the free will that crawly is acting upon; he's not on hell's side, so ergo he must be on heaven's side. the concept of being on your own side evidently is shocking to aziraphale - above all, it just sounds lonely. aziraphale asserts specifically that he is on god's side (which i think, tbh, is a pretty telling thing in and of itself - he doesn't say 'heaven'). and still believes he is acting by god's true will; however, crawly counters that he's talking about the god that wants him to hurt the children. aziraphale hesitantly agreed that yes, that is the same god he's talking about... "but-".

now, idk how aziraphale was going to end that sentence, but id like to think that he still disagrees with crawly's conclusion - to agree would void everything that he said before, right? everything he said with tentative conviction. so, at best, aziraphale would have argued back that crawly is wrong, and that's not what god wants... but i do think aziraphale sees god's lack of intervention as troubling, at the very least... because if god didn't want it to happen, why didn't she stop the storm above them destroying the house? i think he's now put back in a position of being very uncertain as to what god wants... in which case, how can he possibly argue against crawly's assessment? he can't, because he's literally just borne witness that god hasnt intervened on any of it. ultimately, aziraphale still doesn't quite understand the concept of free will, and how he's just as capable of it as anyone else - in helping to save the children, he wasn't acting in accordance with what he thought god's will was, but instead based on what he himself considers to be the right thing to do.

and then we come to the last couple of job scenes; he helps crawly in the trick to bring back the children to job and sitis, and, on the cusp of their subterfuge being revealed, lies to the archangels under immense pressure, under the weight of the knowledge, even in that moment, that he will fall for it. his fear, stemming all the way back from eden (and arguably before, even if only a fear of consequence), has been brought to its reckoning. at the rock, he is adamant that he's going to fall - he "lied, to thwart the will of god" - and has resigned himself to it. crawly obviously states he's not going to deliver aziraphale to hell (and presumably the fall has some physicality to it; ie. aziraphale doesn't feel like he's fallen anyway). but then crawly reveals that aziraphale might just - just - be more on his own (their? not yet?) side than he previously thought. and frankly, i think that scares the fuck out of aziraphale; he's not crawly, he's not confident/headstrong/convicted enough to do that, and besides - hell seems to be fine with crawly doing his own thing as long as his work is done ("i go along with hell as far as i can")... heaven presumably wouldn't at all let that slide. aziraphale can't afford his own side; there's too much to lose.

golgotha (33AD)

immediately we're confronted with not only a more cynical crowley, but almost - i think - a more cynical aziraphale, and the way they act definitely makes sense to me in a post-job context. crowley immediately jabs at aziraphale, thinking that aziraphale would act righteous in seeing jesus on the cross - and yet, aziraphale counters that he's "not consulted on policy decisions"... which begs the question of what aziraphale would have said or done, if he were. we know he tried arguing back in job against gabriel and michael about what the plan was for job, and i don't think this would have been any different... if he had been given the chance.

this exchange though, i think, is one of the best bits of dialogue in all of s1, and potentially gives really interesting insight into where aziraphale stands at this point:

because... well, jesus is not only the son; he was a good and kind person, attempting to teach others to do the same. isn't that what god and heaven stands for? but no - the policy decision, god's plan - is that her son must die... brutally, and in tremendous pain and suffering. that surely can't be something aziraphale can reconcile easily - and yet, with job in mind, he absolutely can. i think he knows its wrong, that it's not right, but it is - this time - absolutely god's plan. and what happened the last time that he intervened? that fear still lives in aziraphale here, i think; and plays a major part in not only aziraphale having to quash what he thinks is the right thing to do, but also forces him to accept that what god is doing must be right and good. it must be for a reason, that god is allowing this one, and aziraphale is still in a place where he fears acting against god could have dire consequences.

rome (41AD):

tbh i don't think there's too much to say on this; it's clearly a more personal scene than the heavier ones that have come before it. i do think that aziraphale being keen on seeing crowley again does speak to crawly's line about how having your own side can be lonely, and aziraphale is readily seeking companionship from the person who knows how that feels? maybe? to add to that, the callback to tempting crowley into the oysters - all feels very acutely like the events in the job minisode might have been on his mind. we know from the script book that aziraphale is there on a heavenly assignment too (tutoring nero), which might play into the loneliness even more. so whilst aziraphale may not be entirely comfortable with having his own side, i'd like to think this scene certainly indicates he's made some personal reflection on the concept.

wessex (537AD):

another (we presume) heavenly assignment of fomenting peace - and i don't think aziraphale and crowley have seen much of each other since rome (going by aziraphale's slip, yet again, in his name). but what transpires is the realisation that their respective head offices essentially have them cancelling out the other's actions, resulting in crowley putting forward the idea of the arrangement. aziraphale isn't immediately opposed to it, not outwardly - but he does poke holes in the viability of it. he initially baulks at the prospect of lying to his superiors (given job, it's fair that he'd be pretty reluctant to chance doing that again), and then finds out that the surveillance that heaven seems to keep on him is not a risk that crowley feels from hell; "...as long as they get the paperwork."

so immediately, we're shown that the chance of discovery is higher with aziraphale, and the associated risk of that will again drum into him that he needs to toe the line very carefully. i don't think the arrangement necessarily offends him on a personal level - im sure that the logic appeals to him, as well as the chance to slack off - but that crowley would... almost tempt him into it? or at least try to talk around his concerns, and still try to push him? at the very least, it scares him off. though, frankly, i think it did work; not only by 1601 does it transpire that they have in fact done favours for each other since this scene, but even the dialogue... the below screams to me somewhat 'lady doth protest too much':

globe (1601):

a few things are apparent in this; that aziraphale is pleased to see crowley again, that they are meant to be meeting in clandestine/crowded settings to avoid detection, and the arrangement has been in effect - in all but name - for some time. the latter is interesting; aziraphale clearly doesn't have an issue personally with the premise of doing favours for each other, but he draws the line at making it an official thing. if heaven ever asked why aziraphale was doing what he was, he presumably knew he could at least attempt to talk his way out of it, retain some semblance of plausible deniability, but if it were acknowledged that he and crowley have a formal arrangement, that increases the risk.

but it's no longer just the risk associated with heaven; it's the risk associated with hell. compared to 537AD when aziraphale indicates that his reluctance is complete to do with the potential repercussions from heaven, this time he seems more preoccupied with the repercussions crowley could face from hell. now, it could be that aziraphale is using it as an excuse - a cover for his true concerns that lie with his own safety - but i don't think so; over a millennium has passed since wessex, and they've clearly met "dozens of times" since then. i think aziraphale's concern does shift over to what would happen to crowley should they be found out. again, he looks happy to see him, and it's crowley that first remarks that the globe was meant to be busy. if crowley presumably is the one more worried about detection, aziraphale would understandably take that to be a reason for concern (despite what crowley says, "[they] don't actually care how things get done, they just want to know they can cross it off the list"), but nonetheless he agrees to the arrangement.

paris (1793):

this time, we learn that aziraphale is actually being monitored relatively closely; heaven is keeping an eye on his miracle usage, claiming that a sufficient number of them are frivolous to warrant a strongly-worded note from the supreme archangel himself. it therefore stands to reason that whilst he still absolutely could miracle himself out of this situation, he attempts to talk his way out of it first. but it also, once again, reinstates that discovery of the arrangement, and their affiliation, is very possible.

crowley turns up, freezes the guard, and 'rescues' aziraphale, who then learns that crowley is taking advantage of humanity coming up with their own atrocities, and claiming credit for it (and initially - and mistakenly - taking that to mean that the reign of terror must be crowley's doing) - but when that's been cleared up, and he thanks crowley for the 'rescue', crowley counters that expressing that specific thing out loud could lead to consequences from his bosses (ie the arrangement doesn't matter because the job gets done, but actively helping the opposition on a personal level? big no-no... which makes me wonder how crowley is possibly able to separate the two... by doing blessings etc., surely he is helping the opposition?). both of them vocalise very clearly that they're aware of the risks - both expressed and subtext - of them interacting with each other closely, but equally they both have no intentions of stopping it, or holding off until things have died down. they're both under scrutiny, and yet still proceed to play with fire by going to lunch.

in terms of what this means for aziraphale's own character development, i personally think it indicates how his feelings for crowley have been emerging since around 1601; the threat of discovery is real, but the friendship, companionship, and the feeling of being understood and known is more and more compelling. but aziraphale isn't stupid, he still knows that there is danger involved with the two of them associating so closely, but i think at times he loses a grasp on how very real that danger is, because of the feeling that crowley gives to him instead (maybe not love, on either part, just yet - but certainly a sense that crowley is very important to him).

edinburgh (1827):

i'll readily admit that i found this minisode a really difficult conundrum when trying to reconcile its events with aziraphale's character development so far, but i think ive at least gotten part of the way there? maybe? (and a small reminder of my... hesitancy... in whether or not this minisode is from aziraphale's perspective).

so aziraphale seems to still be very much set in the black-and-white perspective, right? more than that, he's stating that angels and demons do not have the free will to choose to be anything other than what they're meant to be - good and evil respectively - whereas humanity gets to choose. and stating the obvious, but aziraphale doesn't understand that the reality of being human (poverty, in this case) means that morality doesn't always have a place in survival, and therefore free will gets slightly skewed in that you end choosing to do something you perhaps wouldn't otherwise do, if you felt you had a true choice.

you could argue that this is a regression from the previous history that we've already looked at - and initially i would agree... but i think we have to consider that throughout all of this, aziraphale considers himself - and tbh, he is - a good person. so far, his actions have proven that, bearing in mind the overarching 'threat' (however far you want to extend the scope of that) of heaven, and he extends his empathy to those that are also good on their own merit (including crowley!). but what aziraphale is now having to contend with is what happens when circumstances mean you don't have much room to be a good person; does that condemn them? does that make them worthy of punishment? how can it, when everyone just doing their best with what they have?

when we get to the conversation with dalrymple, the surgeon explains the reason why the bodies are needed in the first place. what i think is also interesting about aziraphale's rationalisation of this whole quandary is the following:

because aziraphale has a point. he's understanding where dalrymple is coming from, acknowledges it, but it's the exploitation angle here that he's now unable to reconcile. sure, fine, you need the bodies for medical advancement, but you're using people who will do anything to earn money to survive, encouraging them to put themselves at risk - both physically and spiritually (from aziraphale's unique perspective) - to do so? that's wrong! ...but dalrymple also has a point; wouldnt it distract him, a surgeon, from the greater good? bodysnatching is at best quasi-legal, and faces sentences up to and meeting execution; why would he risk getting himself so directly involved? and by-the-by; isn't this something that aziraphale, in his own situation with heaven, could empathise with?

aziraphale then learns why the bodies are the in-demand commodity that they are - he's confronted with the consequence of insufficient medical education, and that actually the work may be, whilst through immoral action, working towards a greater good. before, it was just simply for the purpose of better understanding the human anatomy, but the tumour puts in perspective the bigger picture; that a series of objectively immoral actions leads to arguably the greatest moral achievement possible: eradication of preventable and needless suffering. i think that this is where it starts to really resonate that morality is not absolute, and that right and wrong are intrinsically linked by nature of the context* and consequence upon which you judge them. (something something about stepping away from the deontological and instead towards the more consequentialist - perhaps even utilitarianism?*).

***

slight tangent but: if we look at this very thing*, for a moment, with two other scenarios in mind, we know that aziraphale still struggles with separating morality in terms of action and consequence... or is it just simply very intricate? he did struggle in job; he felt he was condemned to fall because he sinned in lying to the archangels - an immoral action - but ended up choosing to lie because it would mean preventing three needless murders, of children no less - ie. a moral consequence. at surface level, a very consequentialist decision.

then, in 2019 with the antichrist; crowley tries to persuade aziraphale into killing warlock in order to stop the apocalypse; in this instance, *the action poses a significantly more serious and graver moral dilemma, even if the end result would be to save the entirety of humanity - the context is very different. in this, aziraphale doesn't budge, and consistently rebuffs crowley's attempts to get him to do it, even when he acknowledges the greater good killing the child could bring. this is more deontological. now, it could be a question of whether aziraphale is reluctant because it would disobey heaven's orders, or because of his own personal moral code, or perhaps even both - but regardless, aziraphale strives instead to find a way around avoiding killing warlock/adam, and come up with a different solution that would bring about the same outcome.

***

but back to the resurrectionists; aziraphale then arrives at rather a misguided conclusion - when he returns to elspeth and morag to offer his assistance, he says:

suffice to say, that is absolutely not what elspeth's angle is here - so again, aziraphale seems to fumble the point entirely. i have toyed with the contrary idea that aziraphale in fact does now understand elspeth's motivation, and does now understand what crowley was saying to him earlier, but has to 'pretend' somewhat that the only reason he wants to help is because of the 'alleviating human suffering' thing (so that essentially if heaven asked why he was encouraging immorality, he could explain it away as being for the greater good), but idk how far i see that... it's possible, but when they move to the graveyard, and crowley points out the advantage that those with money and privilege have in preventing the interrment of their bodies (and the poor "just have to lump it"), he asks aziraphale pointedly if he's alright with this. aziraphale evidently isn't, his face says that enough, but he doesn't voice it.

but then morag gets blasted; she's not even meant to be there, but is just so they can get the job done easier and quicker, and out of love for elspeth - because elspeth asked her to. aziraphale's penultimate moral quandary lies in whether he saves her or not; by his own admission, it's against 'the rules', so to speak, but he can't stand to see something so preventable happen because he chose to follow those rules - not to act. harking back to immoral action leading to moral consequence, that dilemma is put in a very personal context to aziraphale; sure, disobeying the rules might be wrong, but if the consequence of the obedience is far worse? i won't confidently say that he fully learns from the experience, but i do think it sticks with him.

what i feel is worth noting about aziraphale, when they come back to the mausoleum, is that it seems that aziraphale is the first to spot the laudanum on the tomb. not only that, but he can't barely keep his eyes off of it. (*suicide tw*) the interaction that follows immediately feels that aziraphale enters the role of negotiator; his tone is level and calm, he positions himself very warmly and openly, but slowly edges closer to her, and keeps her talking. crowley similarly edges around the room, trusting aziraphale to keep her distracted, so he can swipe the laudanum for himself. obviously crowley then controls the rest of the scene, and used a more dramatic approach in deterring elspeth from taking her own life.

part of that however is by getting aziraphale to give elspeth the contents of his wallet, so she can immediately find herself in a better position in order to make better choices; had she been turned back out onto the streets, and without morag, it probably would result - as crowley said - in her continue to risk her life to earn money, or killing herself before she even gets that far. (*end suicide tw*) aziraphale looks suitably chastened at carrying a substantial amount of money all this time, i think in part recognising the privileged position that must place him in in elspeth's eyes, and shakily hesitates about giving it to her. i do think he knows that the argument he gave at the beginning of the minisode has crumbled somewhat (now that he has seen the full consequences of being in that position), and he looks to crowley in askance to reinstate the holes in that logic as crowley previously said them - and he doesn't argue any further.

elspeth promises to do good, and aziraphale hands it over. it harks back to one of my beginning points; having the free will to choose to do good is only really possible when there isn't an external factor that prevents you from doing so. alleviate, or remove, that hardship - as the 90 guineas did - and there's no reason to think that elspeth won't, in fact, choose to do the good and right thing. before, she was considerably compelled to do bad things - but now she truly is in a position where she can choose. ultimately, aziraphale and crowley have no guarantee on her promise, there's no threat of repercussions if she lied or ends up going back on her word, but ultimately that is free will; the best they can do is put her in a position where she is able to make a choice. that is the right thing to do.

1862:

and so we're back to another dilemma, this time of the more personal kind; crowley asks aziraphale for holy water. ive entertained multiple theories on whether crowley has been in hell since 1827, whether he's been pulled into hell on multiple occasions since 1827, or something entirely different has happened, but all have the same result - crowley is paranoid, he's standoffish, and he's asking for something that he says won't be used to destroy himself, but instead as 'insurance' (which tbh, despite what he said, reads very much like it could be used against other demons or himself). furthermore, aziraphale is cold and distant; marking that something potentially has happened between the two of them, or that aziraphale is aware that they are very much out in the open, and he has to watch how familiar he is with crowley.

the holy water seems to be very much a line that aziraphale is unwilling to cross; and his first reason to not do so is because of the risk it poses to crowley. i don't think it can be denied at this point that even if it's not romantic love - not completely, anyhow - they definitely care for each other. aziraphale is positively vehement that he won't be responsible for crowley's destruction, deliberate or otherwise, and i think a lot of his reaction comes from the fact that crowley would even ask this of him in the first place (and this is of course presuming that aziraphale knows nothing of what prompts crowley to ask for it in the first place).

when crowley retorts that that's not his plan for it, aziraphale is still resistant, and instead adds the further risk that it poses to him personally - that if heaven got wind of it, their arrangement and relationship (of whatever nature it is) would be discovered. it is, doubtless, a substantial risk to aziraphale, but given that he manages to get his hands on it in 1967 without much trouble (at least, that's the impression given), i think that the first reason he gives - that concerning crowley's safety - is probably the truest one.

regardless, it's definitely a line that aziraphale is unwilling to cross, so much so that it descends into them throwing words that evidently hurt the other, and seem to lead them to not even speaking to each other for nearly 80 years. and this time it's not even because the action itself is immoral - aziraphale doesn't indicate that gaining holy water itself is forbidden or difficult - after all, you can visit your local church and odds are that you can nab some pretty easily - but because the potential consequence would be losing crowley forever.

i don't know how far i take this particular interaction to be one deeply concerned with aziraphale's general ethics or sense of morality; more that he just simply cares for crowley a great deal. maybe that informs on his moral alignment more than im giving credit for, idk. we could look at it that aziraphale should absolutely trust crowley - trust his word that he isn't intending to use it on himself - and that perhaps is true, but the sheer fact that aziraphale would be giving crowley something so inherently dangerous to his own person is a very valid reason not to do it, morally or sentimentally - especially as it appears to be a very sudden request without much explanation behind it, to make aziraphale understand why it would be necessary.

1941:

starting with the s1 snippet of 1941, we learn that aziraphale is double-crossing the nazi operatives. to give a rundown of the events that i think likely led to the church scene, aziraphale would have initially denied (or stalled) the nazis' request to find and deliver the books, despite the offer of quite a lot of money (which, let's face it, we know is frankly inconsequential to aziraphale; even without the element of being a celestial being that can miracle up money, we know he's a landlord of some tasty real estate in soho - he's hardly strapped for cash); aziraphale is not stupid, nazis are the bad guys. but because he denied/stalled them, they send in greta posing as a british MI agent to encourage aziraphale to do as the nazis asked - as she likely put it to aziraphale - so that 'british authorities' could take it as an opportunity to apprehend them.

i don't think the above is a stretch - why else would greta have been involved, posing as a home agent, if aziraphale wasn't initially reluctant? - and gives a clear situation in which aziraphale would simply not do something that could help the axis effort. he's not avaricious, and certainly doesn't need wealth, so money holds no sway for him in this; but regardless, he likely stands personally, morally, opposed to the nazis entirely, without hesitation. furthermore, to aziraphale's mind, they are the antithesis of everything that heaven also stands for; he lives in the heart of london, and (as s2 shows quite literally) is surrounded by the destruction caused by the blitz campaign.

moving on to when crowley arrives in the church, i know it's a point of contention that aziraphale assumes that crowley must be involved with the nazis' set up, and that's a fair point. i too find it hard to reconcile, especially given the parallel assumption during 1793 was shot down immediately. however, if we presume that aziraphale and crowley haven't seen each other since 1862, it could be aziraphale still reacting very personally as a result of their argument (i daresay that, for these two, 80 years isn't really that long a time to hold a petty grudge)... but to be honest? crowley still takes assignments from hell, and if there is anything - to aziraphale - that seems like a hellish creation, it's the nazis. as hell's earthly representative, it's not an illogical conclusion to arrive at. but, of course, as crowley rightly says - some of the worst things are purely humanity; free will is a double-edged sword, and humanity has capacity for great evil as well as great good. and aziraphale does know crowley; if crowley had confirmed that he was involved, i think aziraphale's reaction would have been that much more visceral.

then we get the Epiphany that is aziraphale realising he's in love with crowley, and - i'll say it repeatedly - i think he possibly realises that crowley feels something for him too... which sets the whole tone for the continuation of 1941 in s2. i don't think (my brain is like soup at this point, so im sure anyone reading will correct me here) we get much more in 1941 that speaks to aziraphale's moral code until we get to the end, when they're back in the bookshop:

because it's a culmination of everything that they've been through so far, right? that doing the right thing and doing the wrong thing, that good and bad, are interwoven with each other, that one can sometimes define, necessitate, and validate the other, and that everyone - including them - are capable of doing both good and bad things. looking back over their history to date, it's one of their main commonalities - their respective non-conformity to the assumed attributes of their respective sides - and one that binds them together. obviously the irony lies with heaven itself hardly being 'the good place', even if it's meant to be, in the first place - but these are two beings that are unique in their experiences on earth, among humanity, which have led them to developing very complex moral codes that recognises (to varying degrees) that good and bad are not absolutes.

which ultimately leaves us a little confused when we get to 2008, right? as you said, anon - how do we reconcile this aziraphale with the one that is hesitant to stop the apocalypse? well, i think it's almost certain that we've got a missing scene here, one that will be answered in s3; but even looking at s2 - aziraphale's assessment of hell being the bad guys has been cemented in 1941. not only are they in cahoots with the nazis (as far as aziraphale sees it), but they have posed a danger to crowley personally. aziraphale saves the day, but all his concerns about the arrangement have been supported by this one event in the dressing room.

so whilst the black-and-white conversation seems to leave 1941 off on a happy note, take into account any possible imaginings of what happened afterwards, and we'll probably end up with not only the reason why aziraphale chooses to acquiesce to crowley's request for holy water... but also why it appears that they have somewhat cooled off in their association with each other right up until 2008. the risk - originally completely hypothetical - of being caught out in the arrangement has now been made manifest by hell, and there is likely a remaining associated risk with heaven also catching wind. as such, it's not inconceivable that aziraphale retreats back to being incredibly hesitant to cross the company line, hesitant to once again get caught up in this little bliss that has started to emerge (ahhh, love), and instead puts his stock back in at least acting like he is a scrupulous angel of heaven.

1967:

tbh, ive kind of covered that above; there has to be something that develops out of s2-1941 that would cause the tonal shift from the candlelit bookshop, to the alienation in 1967. aziraphale is curt, and short, with crowley - after hearing that crowley has chosen to source holy water by some other means - but is convinced enough to get it for him, and prevent any accidents in crowley acquiring it himself. personal theories aside, i think something must happen that hammers home to aziraphale that having a weapon with which to defend himself, even if there's the further risk to crowley by possessing it, is more important than allowing the risk of crowley being dragged to hell by demons to await whatever Bad Thing/s happened whilst he was there (either in 1827, or at some other point between then and 1967).

so against his clearly-set boundary, aziraphale gives it to crowley. he has to trust that crowley isn't going to use it on himself, or be reckless with it - even going so far as to hand him a flask in his own goddamn tartan pattern* - and still firmly draws the line that whilst maybe one day in the future they'll be able to interact with each other, be together (however romantically-intended or not you want to read that), they can't right now. at the moment, the main reasons that im reading into 'you go too fast for me' is a combination of aziraphale being concerned for crowley's wellbeing (and the risk their association places on that, if we consider 1941), but also because aziraphale himself isn't ready to fully step away from heaven. bear in mind that a lot aziraphale's identity is wrapped around being an angel, and being good - if he were to shirk all of that off, stick it to heaven... where does that leave him? what does that make him? what consequences would that have? in this respect, amongst others, aziraphale is still very much trapped in that same fear as he had in job - but now there's the added context that he's actually in love with crowley, only serving to raise the stakes of all that he has to lose.

*i cannot for the life of me remember where i saw the meta; but someone made the connection that giving someone your tartan, or dressing them in it, is essentially to say that they are your family/clan - uniting in a side - and that they are important to you. it's particularly eye-opening when you take into consideration that aziraphale starts wearing the tartan - as far as we see - after 1827, and when you look at instances of when aziraphale further bestows the tartan on crowley (the bike rack, the jacket collar). perhaps it wasn't ever intended to have that connotation, and it's purely hc, but as a way of aziraphale, potentially, wordlessly telling crowley that he recognises that they are on their side, that devotion and care is still there, even if they now can't risk being seen together? magnificent

modern day (2008-2023):

i promise im getting near the end of this

so the end of 1967 brings us up to present-ish day, and whilst im sure crowley and aziraphale have met up since 1967, i honestly don't think it's been incredibly often, not judging by their first interactions with each other in 2008 as we're introduced to them. but the first major issue - as you pointed out, anon - is that aziraphale is reluctant to stop the apocalypse happening. he hangs on to it being god's plan, and that he can't interfere with it. it does seem, on the surface, to be a regression of his character development, but tbh i don't see it that way at all.

aziraphale is still dancing a very thin line where he has to not only go along with heaven as far as he can, but also has cling to the idea that heaven represents good and light. he hasn't broken away from this yet, and honestly - how could he? what would it mean for him, what could he stand to lose, if he accepted that god and heaven may not be wholly good? what does that make him? it's a safety blanket that, sure, we can observe is one he should have abandoned long ago, so what is stopping him? imo, it's a combination of his self-identity being wrapped up in his being an angel, but also i think a good helping of fear of what could happen if he walked away (nod to omelas); the fear of the unknown is often more frightening than the known.

aziraphale might suspect that the archangels are the corrosive influence in heaven, but he still clings to belief that heaven in the first place was always intended to be good and right. but was it? heaven was once just... heaven. it wasn't good, it wasn't bad, it wasn't really anything - the creation of the fallen, and their descent into their domain (conjecture here; we still don't know what actually happened in the fall), was the element that defines that divide... the fallen challenged/abandoned god, and continue to corrupt her creation, and so they must be the Bad Guys. doesn't that therefore make... heaven the good? it's easy to see where aziraphale arrives at this conclusion - how all of the host arrives at this conclusion, frankly - but angels, i don't think, were ever good in the first place, nor was/is god. they just... are. but produce the concept of an opposite, in every way conceivable, and naturally it becomes a split between good and evil, too. aziraphale is an angel; he is good. crowley is a demon; he is bad. aziraphale is an angel who is just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing. crowley is a demon who is, at heart - just a little bit - a good person. to aziraphale, they may subvert the expectations that their kind would indicate, but it is still who they are at their core.

but back to 2008; aziraphale starts off asserting that heaven - "we" - will win, and it'll all be "rather lovely". i don't think aziraphale has any choice but to believe this, even if he knows what he stands to lose if it happens; crowley waxes on about everything that aziraphale enjoys and will disappear with the apocalypse, but it doesn't convince him. (there's a split second where he seems to have a Moment at the mention of the bookshop, which - yeah, he loves the bookshop and his books, but also everything that the bookshop has represented? hm.) crowley continues on as they approach the bentley, and aziraphale is clearly dithering, almost like it's wearing him down (bc, of course, crowley is right) and making him considerably uncomfortable (and fearful?), to the point that he snaps at crowley to stop.

once they're in the bookshop, aziraphale's guard comes down, and you can tell that he's lamentable about losing aspects of earth/what he can expect from eternity in heaven as crowley points them out. aziraphale becomes a little more candid; "even if i wanted to help, i couldn't. i can't interfere with the 'divine plan'." now look, read into the first bit that aziraphale doesn't actually want to stop armageddon, but... on a personal level, he absolutely does? he doesn't want to lose everything that crowley is pointing out to him, and certainly doesn't want to be subjected to the sound of music on repeat for all eternity - aziraphale absolutely does want armageddon to not-happen, but equally wants to keep his nose clean where heaven and god are concerned. and frankly, when crowley gives him a plausible excuse of chalking aziraphale's efforts to prevent the apocalypse up to it being a ruse to thwart The Demon Crowley... aziraphale practically crumbles like a wet paper bag.

im going to stop at 2008 because honestly this response is obscenely long as it is, and i think how his character develops through s1 and s2 is a lot more apparent (i also think ive talked about it in other asks somewhere, too). but ultimately my personal assessment of aziraphale through the flashbacks/minisodes is that whilst he hasn't had a huge overhaul of his character, his ethical and moral identity has developed and deepened, and remains very complex. there are also, imo, a lot of extenuating factors that influence what he considers to be right and wrong: the threat of heaven, and of hell, the fear of falling and/or losing the identity that he has (and fearing what would happen if he adios'd that entirely), his faith in god, his evolving sentiment and love for crowley, and his fondness of humanity. he may not have made great leaps and strides, resulting in becoming a completely different person, but i don't think that the moral dilemmas posed in the flashbacks wee necessarily meant to do that? more that they are an exploration of the intricate moral code that aziraphale possesses, and how each of these experiences inform on how he chooses to act - or not act - in others as time goes on.

#i hate this response sm it was so unnecessary (again really sorry for the length anon) but i got halfway through and had to Carry On #so yeah enjoy the essay that you didnt ask for and has so many holes in it - unpicking aziraphale would take a dissertation #and a more herculean effort than i have the strength for #good omens #ask #aziraphale meta #flashback meta #1941 spec #sorry forgot the tw!!!!#tw: suicide

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galaxgay · 5 months

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In this post about Aziraphale reveling in Crowley's trust, @ravenofazarath2 got me thinking about why Crowley is actually so different from all the other angels and demons. It's definitely something that has stuck out to me especially since S2 but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

(Apologies, this meta is gonna be unnecessarily long and also might be missing information because I need to rewatch S1 and haven't read the book yet. Also, this meta is just for fun so take it with a grain of silly salt 💕)

@ravenofazarath2 mentioned that maybe Crowley isn't brainwashed like Aziraphale (and all the other ethereal beings) because he bit the apple- The apple that contains the Knowledge of Good and Evil. And I am now going insane because wait a second-

When we see him in Eden he says this line, speculating on why it's so wrong to have the knowledge of good and evil. It's such an... interesting thing to say- especially for an ethereal.

Sure, he could very much be talking about Adam and Eve choosing to eat the apple and being kicked from Eden for it (Landlords and their obnoxious rules🙄), but for fun, I'd like to play with another idea.

To be a bit more philosophical, I want to preface this theory by saying "knowing the difference between good and evil" means understanding its many complexities. It means knowing there are times where good deeds are poisoned with malice or even have evil unintended consequences and evil deeds can be justified by means outside of one's control and have good consequences- and what is good for one person, may be evil for another.

Angels and demons do not have this "knowledge". They have their strict rules and codes that they follow almost compulsively and are all collectively in on this bit. Good and Evil are almost always about immediate action and never factor in consequences. They recognize good and evil based on their respective sides. Nothing more, nothing less.

Additionally, the phrasing of that line is interesting to me. It kind of sounds like "as someone who has bit the apple, gained that knowledge and can now see the difference between good and evil, (and perhaps fell/was punished for it himself) I don't get what's so wrong with that knowledge."

The reason I don't think this is too much of a reach is because sure, halo-hugging angels who are still apart of the "cult" are going to be brainwashed, but what's so strange to me is that demons, who are fallen angels and have supposedly seen both sides themselves, don't seem to share Crowley's sentiment. Not a single one. They seem almost as brainwashed as the angels are. Is that not bizarre? Not to be a nerd but statistically speaking, at least one other demon should be able to agree, right? Why is it only Crowley?

Because it's not about seeing both sides, it's about understanding both sides. Something you can only do, if you take a bite.

(Sure, one could say the demon's quest to ruin humanity could be an act of rebellion and revenge but again, why is it all of them? I feel like at least a few of them would in one way or another agree with Crowley, even the littlest bit and they don't.)

In S1, we get this beautifully dramatic frame where Crowley says "I only ever asked questions". Which of course, is a line that everyone has been scrambling back to after seeing angel Crowley in S2. Which makes me think of this ask that Neil Gaiman answered:

Crowley's implication of not deserving to fall and Neil Gaiman saying that Crowley isn't a reliable narrator when it comes to his fall are certainly opposing views but why can't they both be correct? (we're exercising DBT today for fun)

If we know anything about Good Omens, it's that the entire theme of the story hinges on perspective. How the same instance can be viewed dramatically different depending on who is watching and where their morals are aligned. For both of these things to be true, Crowley would probably see his fall as a punishment for having simple curiosity. To Neil Gaiman, a much more neutral, outside observer, Crowley's fall wouldn't have been such a random, out of place happening. Which leads me to wonder what the Great War was even about. (I'm assuming the Great War happened before Eden-)

Perhaps it was about asking questions and making suggestions.

It seems kind of silly to say but the more I think about it, the more it makes sense. If the Great War is what caused many of the angels to fall, it would make sense that the center of that war would be a lack of faith. And the thing about faith is a lot of the time there's this idea that you should hang your questions aside and choose to believe- questions can oftentimes be seen as a threat or a lack of faith. Even more so are suggestions. I believe Aziraphale's reaction to Crowley's questions and suggestions in S2E1 are a perfect example of this being just the case.

I can imagine Crowley, and many of the higher ranking angels such as Lucifer and Beelzebub finding each other to all have the same questions and suggestions and doubts about the future of the universe. Having the rank they had, I could see them planning to go to God to ask questions- they, at this point, have no reason to believe anything should happen to them should they ask questions.

With them having those questions, I could also see there being a rift between the Angels who wished to ask questions, and those who strongly opposed it. And as they debated it, it snowballed out of control turning into a full-on war.

(Small note: sure maybe they became demons before the war actually officially starts but I still think this theory could hold pretty strongly.)

Crowley was on the side of asking questions and making suggestions. They did in fact fight with the other angels who ended up falling. Her questions and suggestions were viewed as a lack of faith. If you view faith as being able to hang up your questions and doubts, it actually was a lack of faith. To Neil Gaiman and katiebird2000's point, Crowley's fall was in fact just the consequences of his actions. To say "all I ever did was ask questions" is to negate all of the other things Crowley did.

(I'd also like to throw out there that faith in this circumstance is faith in God, not faith in doing good which I think explains a large portion of Crowley's morality throughout the story because God and good are not synonymous. Crowley believes in doing the right thing but does not believe God is the one to do it.)

And so Crowley fell. To his point of view, he fell for simply having questions. So when Crowley heard about the Tree of Knowledge, she had to go. When they heard the word "Knowledge" they probably thought taking a bite would answer their questions- provide her with the thing she was denied in Heaven. It was also the perfect first act of rebellion- to indulge in something he was not meant to indulge in.

But when he took a bite, something completely different happened. The wool over her eyes had been peeled back and suddenly the universe became so much more complicated. Perhaps tempting Eve to eat the apple was originally about temptation but then became an act of setting them free- to give them the right to choose just like the apple did for Crowley.

And everything from there on is history.

I think that's why Crowley not only loves humanity but also why Crowley himself is so human: that is the one thing he shares with humanity- the knowledge and understanding that good and evil are not mutually exclusive. Knowing that good and evil are tied by a red string of fate, destined to dance circles around one another eternally.

#thank you so much if you read that whole thing #i have a tendency to ramble sorry 😭#I'm gonna make another meta to piggy back off this one #about aziraphale because the way he factors into all of this is interesting to me #this theory also sheds a lot of light onto whats in store for the future so sit tight!#good omens #crowley #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #aziraphale #good omens 2 #ineffable idiots

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life-o-n-m4rs · 9 months

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An Analysis on the Finale and Aziraphale’s Inner Monologue (Michael Sheen is an Incredible Actor)

Like most Good Omens fans in these tragic, triyng times, I’ve spent hours scrolling through Twitter, Instagram, and Tumblr reading hundreds of people’s thoughts and opinions on the season, particularly the final scene of the season in which Aziraphale is offered to return to Heaven to be Supreme Archangel and Crowley confesses his love to Aziraphale after literal millennia of pining. After my most recent rewatch of the season, I spent a lot of time focussing on the final scene(s) and carefully eyeing every tiny detail. Not necessarily around the coffee, but around everything that came after it. I am somewhat on the fence about the coffee theory. Though I don’t think that Aziraphale decided to go back to Heaven entirely on his own fruition, I don’t think he was completely under the control of Heaven either. His ultimate decision was not entirely out of character.

Starting with the coffee and scene with Metatron itself: many people have theorized that The Metatron poisoned Aziraphale with cyanide, which I see the logic in. We saw earlier in the series in the second minisode that poison causes demons–and presumably angels–to act very strange, like they’re high or drunk. When he drank the laudnum, Crowley stops a girl from killing herself, while stating that it was not a kind thing to do as he was “Off [his] rocker on laudnum. Not responsible for [his] actions”. However, Crowley still drinks the laudnum to stop Elspeth from doing it herself, so obviously he was at least somewhat in his right mind. He still aimed to thwart her attempt, so his statement deflecting his actions due to his intoxication could just be another moment of Crowley denying any goodness in him, much like when he saves Aziraphale’s books and tells him not to thank him. So, coming back to the coffee, it is perhaps plausible that Aziraphale said yes to The Metatron because he was not entirely in his right mind. When we see Metatron order the coffee, he does ask for a “dash of almond syrup”, but when giving it to Aziraphale, says that there is a “hefty jigger” of it. That certainly doesn’t sound like a dash. Where the coffee theory starts to fall off, however, is immediately after Aziraphale drinks the coffee. When Crowley drank the laudnum, he immediately felt the effects of the poison, whereas with Aziraphale, we see that he is completely the same afterwards. Of course, cyanide is not laudnum, and it was also, theoretically, mixed in with coffee, so the effects could very well be different. Aziraphale returns to his shop with no coffee in hand, so it is safe to assume that he finished it, and we don’t see any changes in behavior until he starts talking to Crowley. That is when he starts to act off.

If we look at Aziraphale during his conversation with The Metatron, he immediately declines his offer. He flatout says that he does not want to go back to heaven. Not only that, but Metatron tells Aziraphale that he chose him to replace Gabriel as Supreme Archangel because he’s a great, natural leader. That he’s honest and doesn’t just tell people what they want to hear, which is just flatout not true. We see Aziraphale lie so many times in the show, probably more than Crowley, and he especially lies to Heaven on multiple occasions. That’s a huge focus of the minisode in episode 2, that Aziraphale lied to Heaven. He has never aligned with Heaven’s beliefs. He is notoriously insuboordinate. He is by far not the best choice to be Supreme Archangel, especially since he hasn’t properly aligned himself with Heaven, or even spoken to them, in years. This is the first piece of manipulation from The Metatron’s part. Not even necessarily some miracle or poisoning, but he was feeding Azirphale what he wants to hear. He’s praising him to get in his good graces, but that’s only the first half. Aziraphale still says no. It’s not until Metatron presents his second half of the offer that we see something start to crack in Aziraphale. If The Metatron did do something to Aziraphale, it still could not have worked without this vital piece. He offers to let Aziraphale, as Supreme Archangel, restore Crowley as an angel. Crowley can come with. Suddenly things are different, and we see it on Aziraphale’s face. Michael Sheen is an inredible actor and he manages to narrate a deep and painful inner monologue within Aziraphale with just his face. The second The Metatron starts to say that he could bring Crowley with him, his expression changes very subtly, but just enough for us to see that something made its way through to him.

We are deliberately not shown the rest of their conversation. There is clearly something there that we did not see. The only other part of their conversation we see is at the end of it. The Metatron says that Azirphale “[doesn’t] have to answer immediately. Take all the time you need”. All that Azirpahle says in response is that he doesn’t know what to say, to which The Metatron says, “Go tell your friend the good news”, as if he knows that, in the end, Aziraphale will come with him. We watch Aziraphale walk away, and he does not look like he has good news for Crowley. He looks scared.

Something inside of Aziraphale is battling itself in this moment. We see no change in his demeanor until we reenters his bookshop, and even then, it’s not until right before Crowley begins speaking. We see him looking at Crowley and something almost seems to waft over him. He’s no longer scared or nervous about this news. He suddenly wants to tell Crowley all about it.

When Aziraphale cuts Crowley off, he’s suddenly ecstatic about going back to Heaven, which does not at all match how he was feeling less than one minute ago on his way back to the bookshop. So, it might be entirely possible that The Metatron didn’t do anything to Aziraphale until after their conversation. That he performed some miracle on him just as he was walking away. As Aziraphale explains the ordeal to Crowley, he is filled more and more with joy and excitement about all of it. Aziraphale, who, just a few minutes ago, said that he didn’t want to go back to Heaven. I do believe that part of him here is thinking back on when he knew Crowley as an angel. We don’t know much about Crowley’s time as an angel, but we do know that he was an important angel. Important enough to be second to the Supreme Archangel as Aziraphale proposes. We saw a small moment of Crowley when he was an angel and how much he loved building the universe. Creating stars. Countless galaxies that were like his children. But we know very well why Crowley could never go back. So why doesn’t Aziraphale? Aziraphale doesn’t exactly have the best relationship with Heaven. They were the ones who tried to destroy him, to hurt Crowley, to destroy the world and humanity, which Azirphale stopped. Why should we believe that he’s even been forgiven for that? Crowley seems to share the same sentiment that the viewers do–why should Aziraphale go back after what they did to him?–because he immediately assumes that Aziraphale turned down the offer.

Crowley tells Aziraphale that they’re better than that. That they don’t need Heaven. That when Hell offered him a promotion, he said no, without hesitation. Aziraphale rebutes with “Obviously you said no to Hell, you’re the bad guys.” You’re. When has Aziraphale ever aligned Crowley with Hell like that? Especially in the last few years of their relationship. They have been completely cut off from both sides for years. This is the first instance of something slipping through that isn’t entirely Aziraphale. This is not something that he would say to Crowley. Aziraphale says, “...Heaven. It’s the side of light, of truth. Of good.” He has spent all of both seasons of the show whole-heartedly believing that Crowley was good. He has always seen him as such. So, for him to not only include Crowley in the Hell collective, but to imply that Crowley cannot be good without Heaven, is a clear sign that something is wrong. Crowley is begging, pleading that Azirphale said no to Metatron. If we look back, he never gave an answer. The Metatron told him that he could take all the time he needed to answer. But Aziraphale has his answer. He never had a choice in giving one, did he? Aziraphale did say no and The Metatron didn’t take it.

At this point, Crowley can feel Aziraphale slipping away, so he goes on with his confession anyway. It’s clear in his voice that he’s now desperately trying to hold onto Aziraphale. Throughout Crowley’s confession, he plays a tug-of-war with Heaven for Aziraphale. He brings up Gabriel and Beelzebub, saying that if they “can go off together, then we can”. He’s not just bringing them up as a point in his argument to say that it is possible for an angel and a demon to love each other. He’s bringing them up because Beelzebub says flatout that they “found something that mattered more than choosing sides”. Crowley is trying to present himself as that for Aziraphale in that moment. He’s looking him in the eye, allowing himself to be vulnerable, and begging him to forget about sides. What about shades of gray?

Crowley is presenting Aziraphale with an offer. An offer for the two of them to forget Heaven and Hell, to forget everything but each other. But Aziraphale has his mind set, either by himself or by someone else, but it is set nonetheless. Even as he fights whatever is inside of him, pulling him toward Heaven, he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do everything in his power to pull Crowley with him because he cannot bear to be apart from him. Crowley would burn Heaven to the ground for Aziraphale, but he’s afraid of fire.

The best comparison for Aziraphale’s willingness to go back to Heaven, which many people have used, is that of an abuse victim. He has suffered at the hands of Heaven for millennia, but when the expectation is that he must feel worthless, he holds on so tight to any speck of praise like it is high above the standard. When Crowley presents his offer to Aziraphale, he’s not turning it down. He is trying to fulfill it while also getting to enact his hopes for Heaven. He says to Crowley, “Come with me. To Heaven. I’ll run it, you can be my second in command”. This line always stuck out to me. Second in command. When has Crowley ever been a second to Aziraphale? Throughout the series, we see them walking together, always shoulder to shoulder. Neither ever walks behind or in front of the other. They have always been equals. Now, suddenly, Crowley is no longer worthy of being Aziraphale’s equal. Almost as though Heaven is looking at Crowley and saying that he doesn’t deserve to be on the same level as a measly principality. Someone who was once important enough to build galaxies can never be on the same level again because he has fallen. The Metatron is starting to flood into Aziraphale’s head, and Aziraphale is fighting to stay afloat, reaching out for Crowley to pull him out, but if Crowley takes his hand he’ll just get pulled under, too.

“You can’t leave this bookshop,” Crowley says. You can’t leave me. Is what he means. “Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale patronizingly coos at him. He thinks that Crowley is refusing because of foolish attachments to material objects, something that Heaven has no time or use for. Something Heaven has no patience for. “Nothing lasts forever.” We won’t last forever. Crowley is offering Aziraphale eternity, and Aziraphale is laughing at him for it. At least, from Crowley’s perspective. Through his heartbreak, he can’t see that Aziraphale so badly wants to go with him, but something is holding him down, so he asks Crowley to come to him. There is no halfway point. “No, I don’t suppose it does.” Crowley puts his glasses on while he’s alone with Aziraphale for the first time in years. He spent years carefully tearing down his walls for him, and it’s as if, in an instant, someone came along and pressed undo. All the bricks came magneting back together and built themselves back up. Crowley opened himself up, truly, for the first time ever, and he thinks he’s being rejected becaus Aziraphale doesn’t know how to tell him how beautiful he looks. As Crowley walks away, Aziraphale doesn’t know what he did wrong. Why is Crowley leaving? He’s offering him what is, in his mind, the best possible outcome. He wants to fix Heaven for Crowley. He wants him to be that sweet, happy, angel he was, but Aziraphale’s too naive to see that he never can be. He’s begging Crowley to come with him now. “We can be together,” he says, almost like it’s a compromise. He still doesn’t know how to let himself love Crowley, but he’s willing to let Crowley love him if that means he will stay. He says that they can be angels, doing good, again implying that Crowley cannot be good without Heaven. Crowley cannot be good with Aziraphale. But the fact of the matter is, he may be good without Aziraphale, but he isn’t Crowley. More and more of Aziraphale breaks through in this moment. In his moment of desperation not to lose Crowley, he’s forgetting about Heaven. All he needs is Crowley. He needs him. And when that plead doesn’t work, Heaven surfaces again. He turns to anger. “I don’t think you understand what I’m offering you.” He’s now bringing Crowley down. He’s using the same tactics that Heaven does. Make them feel worthless so that they love you when you give them anything more. But this is also Heaven trying to push Crowley away from Aziraphale. The intention never was for Crowley to be an angel. Metatron knew very well that Crowley would say no. He just needed that option to get in. To break into Aziraphale’s mind, tear the two apart with no hope of mending, and keep them as far away from each other as possible.

Aziraphale gives up trying to hold onto Crowley. Heaven is in his head and in his ear saying, “Give up. He’s not coming.” Heaven has built itself back up in Aziraphale’s head. He has closed himself from Crowley. It’s not until Crowley kisses him that the battle begins again between Aziraphale and whatever The Metatron placed in him, whether literally or emotionally. We see on Aziraphale’s face and in his body language a flicker between wanting and hating it. But he never pulls away. When Crowley let’s go, Aziraphale looks horrified. Like he can’t believe that Crowley just did that, or that he allowed it to continue as long as it did. Deep down, there’s nothing Aziraphale wanted more, but not like this. As he struggles to find his words, his face is first sad. Afraid. He mouths something through an exhale that appears to be what wants to be an “I love you”, but his face shifts. Heaven takes over again and all he can say is “I forgive you”. He goes from sad and lovelorn to a sort of anger with Crowley. We see him flash back and forth between these two many times throughout this sequence.

As Crowley walks away, Aziraphale comes through again, wanting to go after him. He even appears to mouth “No”. He wants him to stay. He wants to stay with him. But then he looks after him with a furrowed brow. He’d better walk away. It’s better for everyone.

He pushes Heaven back again when he presses his fingers to his lips. He wants to remember what that felt like. He wants to feel it again. Desperately. But he changes again and wipes the kiss away. It’s not what Heaven would want, and so neither shall he, for this love is a sin, and angels do not sin.

When the Metatron returns and Aziraphale tells him he didn’t take it well, The Metatron immediately puts Crowley down, saying that he was “always asking damn fool questions”. Now that Crowley was out of sight, he needed to be out of mind as well. He did not align with Heaven or its goals, so Aziraphale cannot think even remotely fondly of him. He must be an angel again, and angels do not look upon demons with an ounce of kindness. Crowley does not deserve Aziraphale’s kindness. He offered him something great, and he was too foolish to accept it. Right?

The Metatron asks Aziraphale if he’s ready to start. Aziraphale never gave him an answer, though, did he? Because there was no answer to give. Aziraphale never had a choice. Crowley had to be gone, and Aziraphale had to be the one to push him away, because how else would they regain control over the both of them? The reality of it has suddenly hit Aziraphale. He’s still fighting Heaven’s control. Suddenly, he can’t leave the bookshop. Suddenly, it must last forever, because this is Crowley’s shop, too. While The Metatron is trying to get Aziraphale out of the shop, he keeps looking at the chairs. The chairs in which he and Crowley sat and drank so many times. Where they laughed together. Where they decided to stop armageddon. The chairs where they decided that their side was the only one that mattered. Aziraphale is doubting. He almost tells The Metatron that he wants to stay. He almost tells him no. But he can’t, because The Metatron won’t let him. He can’t.

In the scene just before Aziraphale gets on the elevator, the music is a key factor. It tells the viewer exactly what’s going on in Aziraphale’s mind. He is still flipping between Heavn and Crowley. Every time Aziraphale leans toward Heaven, the music plays in a major key, with more emphasis on the flute. When his mind goes to Crowley, the strings take over with a melancholy melody. Strings that pull Aziraphale down, back to the world, to Crowley. And then he takes that final breath and steps onto the elevator. The flute takes over again and the music changes to a hopeful melody, but still sad enough sounding, especially when we cut back to Crowley getting into his car. We see one final look of doubt on Azirphale’s face as the elevator doors close. The weight of his choices are hitting him. But he doens’t dwell on them long because he’s finally let go of the ledge. He’s stopped trying to float. He’s sinking down into the black waters of Heaven and his mind has vanished. He’s under the Metatron’s control now. We see him struggling and fighting one final time during the credits until finally, just before both he and Crowley are completely gone, he cracks an unsettling grin. The last ties to Earth have been severed. His uncanny expressions throughout the entire credit sequence are meant to be unnerving. Something is deeply, deeply, wrong.

So, I don’t think I necessarily believe in the coffee theory exactly, though I do think that it is important. There was so much cinematic emphasis placed on the coffee, but whether that be because The Metatron meddled with it or just as a red herring to raise unease from the viewer with The Metatron is uncertain. The only person who knows is Neil Gaiman and we all know just how much we’d get out of him if we asked. Ultimately, if Crowley coming to Heaven was never presented as an option in the first place, Aziraphale would not have gone. But he leaves with blame placed on Crowley, and that’s exactly how The Metatron wanted it.

#this took me 3 hours to write oml #good omens #crowley #azirphale #ineffable husbands #essay #analysis essay #good omens analysis #neil gaiman #every #david tennant #michael sheen #fan fiction #good omens fan fiction #can you tell that i like analyzing characters #this hurt so much to write and rewatch that scene #coffee theory

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averywiseanimatedcat · 8 months

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I’m back with another ridiculous over analysis because I have issues.

I want to talk about the end credit elevator/Bentley scene.

Because there’s something BOTHERING me so much about it and other than coffee theory (which I don’t believe) I haven’t seen any explanation for it.

So to address Crowley first…his expression doesn’t really change he through the whole end credits. Which is on brand, he isn’t processing. You can see he’s on the edge of a breakdown but he won’t let it out. From the moment he gets in the car he is stonewalling. He hardly even reacts to A nightingale sang in Berkeley square playing, just calmly turns it off with a tiny lip twitch and drives away. He’s just staring blankly ahead while he drives and his face hardly even moves. All in character.

But Azirapahle…he is doing a whole lotta processing in that elevator. Sis is going through it.

At first he’s still recovering, looks like he’s about to have a breakdown to. He looks heartbroken. Devastated.

Once he gets past the initial heartbroken stage his expression is changing to a more determined look. He’s doing a Crowley shoving those feelings down. In my mind he’s planning a way to get Crowley back. Or he’s telling himself that Crowley will comeback on his own like he has before. He’s telling himself he is in the right and it will all be ok because he’s a bit delulu and he’s still in shock about what’s happened. Pretty normal and in character.

Then it gets WEIRD

These last few seconds are driving me insane.

This does not look like Aziraphale. At all. And this is the only reason I would consider coffee theory could be true BUT only if the brainwashing didn’t kick in until he was in the elevator. Because I cannot fathom what on earth would posses Aziraphale to smile like this.

This isn’t the smile that he does when he’s trying to be polite or pretend he’s ok. And he’s not smiling at the Metatron, he’s smiling at himself.

It’s not his determined ‘I’m going to fix everything’ smile.

It’s definitely not his normal genuine or excited smile.

Someone more insane than me might be able to correct me here but I don’t think we’ve ever seen Aziraphale smile like this before?

The smile isn’t IN his eyes (they’re dead asf) but it IS reaching them because it’s taking over his whole face. He looks like a serial killer and I cannot wrap my head around it. I cannot fathom that he would be smiling about the job at this point. That’s just weird and doesn’t make sense.

Either Micheal has made this acting choice or he was directed to do it for a very good reason. And it coming at the end feels like it was just dropped there as a hint. I’m not sure if the hint is plot related (like Coffee theory), or it’s just a hint as to what Aziraphales headspace will be like when we pick up in S3.

But can we all agree this face is CREEPY. It’s giving super villain vibes and I hate it. I feel like he’s going to appear in my sleep paralysis tonight and I’m scared.

Anyway.

The explanation options I have at this point are:

1. Something like coffee theory where some kind of outside influence is effecting him in the elevator (but not beforehand in the bookshop). This face does remind me of Gabriel’s weirdly overly happy expressions when he was Arc Angel

2. He’s in shock

3. He isn’t as good at hiding his feelings as Crowley is, so maybe he’s just over compensating to prevent a breakdown infront of the Metatron

4. He has convinced himself that Crowley will come back and is experiencing a weird mix of delusional excitement and pain

5. He’s having a complete mental breakdown (same)

#good omens #crowley #aziracrow #aziraphale #good omens s2 #good omens season 2 #crowly x aziraphale #ineffable husbands #ineffable divorce

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diamondcitydarlin · 9 months

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idk I guess it's an unpopular opinion (tho again maybe not because I feel like for as much as that was a TRAGIC cliffhanger we're all kinda like...into it, right? lmaooo) but I feel like the break-up was a long time coming and needed to happen in order for them to progress the relationship forward. Of course I love post season one fics where they're already a couple after failed armageddon and everything's perfect and fine and that's kind of what I just entertained until I knew more of the story was going to be told because IN THAT CASE!!

I guess it's been said already, but I've always felt like for as close as they were at the end of season one and for as much as it seems like they've carved out a niche for themselves that works, there's something about it that has always felt sort of tenuous for me, and I feel like it's manifested in times that I've written them in post season one, either solo or in RP with a friend. Sometimes it's heaven/hell not being done with them and only pretending to stand back while thinking of a way to get them, but often it's that plus their own sense of loyalty to themselves or outer entities, etc.

As season 2 establishes and as I always kind of suspected, Aziraphale has never really 'given up' on heaven, perhaps not aided by the fact that I don't think Crowley ever gave him specific details of what went on during his trial. The tribulations of the first act of the story don't really destroy Aziraphale's confidence in what he's always believed to be true, it just leads him to think the wrong people have been in charge, still leaving him with this sense of 'this = good' and 'this = bad' and, well...Crowley is still a demon.

Now, of course, Crowley usually falls into a rationalized category of 'Not Like Other Demons' for Aziraphale and most of the time that's fine, but when push comes to shove it turns into a bigger, more divisive issue than anything they can ignore because, ultimately, Az thinks everything will be fine once they're both on the same side of 'good'. Once Crowley is as he used to be. Because surely that's what he REALLY wants as well?? WHO WOULDN'T WANT TO BE AN ANGEL??

And in that way, Crowley has his own sense of loyalty that clashes with Aziraphale's, but I think it's really a loyalty to himself. I don't mean that in a derogatory way at all. I don't mean to imply that he really IS selfish and evil. I mean to say that Crowley has accepted who and what he is, that for as much as God's forsaking of him still haunts his sense of self, he accepts his fate with lurid enthusiasm. Unforgivable, that's what he is. Fine! Because if earning god or heaven's love means being other than what he really truly is and wants to be, then it means nothing and also fuck them.

In that way though, Aziraphale is also 'not like other angels' for Crowley, because there's this sort of understanding that he either doesn't care or accepts him anyway and honestly I think the reason Crowley avoids talking about that for so long is because he doesn't really want to know which it is. But then he finds out, because circumstances have forced them to. And I notice that while he is devastated, he doesn't seem surprised. Sort of like Crowley always knew they were going to have to face this crossroads eventually and knew what Aziraphale was going to choose.

I can't really fault either of them for making their respective choices. If anything, my admiration for Crowley's character has increased a hundred fold and I was already partial to him lmao. It's not easy to choose yourself and your own self-preservation and the truth of who you are over anything else, over the threat of really, truly being alone, but...he does, and I think there's a takeaway in that. And I get where Aziraphale is coming from too, even for how painful and seemingly selfish it is (but I don't think it is, not in intention anyway).

idk this became a ramble but I feel like it all makes sense and is crucial to really exploring what that love between them could truly be in the end.

#ineffable husbands #good omens spoiler #good omens spoilers #ya idk i just felt like it would happen regardless #and im glad it did tbh

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ask-but-beware-the-consequences · 9 months

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Maggie is being very weird.

Like at first, I had similar reactions like the other characters had about her in the show. Then I read about some theories, and then started rewatching the season. And she is acting out of place.

First impressions matter

And the first interaction with her we see her message to Aziraphale, that it's an 'ugrency'. A misspell? Sure. When you type on a phone, but in handwriting? It's much more natural to misspell during handwriting when you actually don't know how to spell that word. Then episodes later we have Crowley pointing it out that demons don't really know how to spell. I don't think Maggie is necessarily a demon, I'm much more on board with she's being a fiction (within a fiction).

Then Aziraphale walks over to her shop to check in. They all are having a nice conversation, the angel is inquiring about the mysterious record if she knows it, then she suddenly breaks down crying. None of us expected that. Then her replies, all of her replies to be honest seems out of place, like she doesn't make sense, and just being tossed around like a puppet on a string.

She says's she's not crying while doing so, then explains Aziraphale that it's a thing you do. The angel, who has been on Earth for 6000 years. Like he needs explaining about humans.

Then suddenly she's chuckling like nothing happened, then suddenly she acts like she's turned on by alone thinking about Nina, then again a mood change all of that under bare seconds? Hell nah. That doesn't make any sense, even if she has any type of mental sickness (which isn't even thought of in the show's world as an option).

I could list all of her replies, but then all of her voicelines would be probably here.

At the bookshop attack, when Crowley gathers all the people inside to guide them out, we see Nina and Maggie staying behind, yet he only asks about Nina to come, and doesn't bother with Maggie.

Another thing is that during the interview, the cast talks about the roles they are playing, they describe their new roles, except for Maggie's character, she never gets described. It's a Clue.

Personal opinion: I think it's a nice thing that people consider them as the next nice couple in this show, but I think Nina deserves much, much more better if this is true. She just got out of a stricting, manipulative, narcissistic, abusive relationship. And now she's getting tricked into falling into another one with a fake person? Nah man, poor Nina. If Maggie gets a redemption and becomes a real person, then, sure, go ahead. But not this way.

Kind of the same with Gabriel and Beelzebub, but I already wrote about them a few posts earlier, of why I find them weird and unreal.

Plus addition: Maggie has a comment on the weird record phenomena, saying: "which is mad, but they are Scottish, so..."

Like excuse me?

#good omens 2 #good omens #good omens 2 spoilers #good omens s2 #maggie #nina

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jotun-philosopher · 4 months

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Good Omens S3 speculation playlist

These pieces have sort of drifted into becoming the soundtrack for all my wild speculations about what Season 3 might bring, acting as placeholder music until David Arnold works his Euterpean magic -- see what you think! :D

Dies Irae (Karl Jenkins Requiem (link goes to youtube playlist of the full album, 'cos it's awesome and seriously worth listening to)) -- this is far and away my favourite version of the Dies Irae; it feels particularly appropriate for GO because it's borderline bebop and sounds like something Crowley'd have playing loudly in the Bentley while driving like fury to save the world (or possibly invading Heaven to rescue his True Love) if he felt Queen wouldn't quite cut it. Plus, per this post, the four-note Dies Irae motif appears a few times in the score to S1 (appropriately enough!) -- why not try listening to the OST again and finding them all? ;D

Dancing Mad (Nobuo Uematsu FF6) -- bit of an oddball association, I know; I happened to be reading a post making jokes about Kakfa (as in Franz Kakfa) shortly after the release of S2, only I mis-parsed 'Kafka' as 'Kefka' (as in Kefka Palazzo) and was promptly deluged with mental images of the Ineffables being badass adorable together to the tune of Dancing Mad! XD Plus, I like the image of Heaven suddenly hearing the organ notes at 11:32 crescendoing in the background, and the elevator doors slamming open right when the vocal-ish bit kicks in at 11:51 to reveal a certain VERY cheesed-off serpent who's in a rescuing mood :D (He does love to be dramatic, after all ^^)

Adiemus (Karl Jenkins Symphonic Adiemus) -- I just really like this track, and it feels kind of appropriate for a moment of renewed hope and building optimism after a moment of what Tolkien called 'eucatastrophe' and TVTropes calls 'Near Villain Victory' -- something we're almost certain to get in S3

In Caelum Fero (Karl Jenkins Symphonic Adiemus) -- from the same album as Adiemus above (In Caelum Fero is the first track, actually, so I've make the link one that takes you to the start of the playlist). It sounds threatening and dramatic and hopeful by turns -- appropriate for the Apocalyptic situation that's brewing for S3 -- and the title translates from the Latin as 'I will bear you to Heaven', which matches up to The Final Fifteen in two or three different ways! ;_; (#FuckTheMetatronWithACactus)

Sanctus (Karl Jenkins The Armed Man: A Mass For Peace) -- ever since I first heard this track waay back in 2001, I've associated it with the image of hordes of angels marching to war; it certainly sounds ominous enough!

I'll Be Your Mirror (Velvet Underground) -- I got into Velvet Underground entirely because of Good Omens! I love this track in particular because it sounds so utterly perfect for one of the Ineffables trying to bolster the other's confidence (in my imagination, it's usually Crowley trying to boost Aziraphale, 'cos that poor angel's self-esteem is atrocious :( *hugs*)

Pale Blue Eyes (Velvet Underground) -- Crowley's fave VU song, I gather :D Plus, despite the title, this particular love song was apparently written for someone with hazel eyes (just like our angel!) :D

I Found A Reason (Velvet Underground) -- I can't offhand remember seeing this song mentioned in fandom discussions of VU, which seems a bit of a shame; it feels just so darn PERFECT as a summary of how the Ineffables feel about each other! <3

Edit/addition 18/02/2024:

The Dark Morris Song (Steeleye Span, Wintersmith album) -- this one's an absolute bop, is connected to Discworld (so Aziraphale would probably approve!) and is very thematically appropriate for the Ineffable Husbands; Pterry thought up the Dark Morris (danced in secrecy and silence, in black costumes, deep in the forest, to welcome the winter -- first mentioned in Reaper Man, becomes a plot point in Wintersmith) as a counterpart and counterbalance to the traditional Morris dance to welcome the summer. The whole 'balance of light and dark' thing is a big part of the Ineffables' story <3

The Good Witch (Steeleye Span, Wintersmith album) -- also a very good match for the Ineffable Husbands' vibe; the first half of the song is about a witch being good and loving and caring even if she is 'ugly' or gets tagged as 'wicked' for whatever reason (A. J. Crowley, anyone???), and the second half is the actual Terry Pratchett doing a spoken-word reading of his passage about what 'cackling' means for Discworld witches -- which matches up uncomfortably well with what the impossibly high standards Heaven imposes on Aziraphale have already done to his psyche in terms of c-PTSD and compassion fatigue, and what they might still do in the worst-case scenario...

Stranger In Paradise (Alexander Armstrong version) -- I just feel like this coincidentally matches the Vibes (tm) of bits and pieces of the Ineffable Husbands' story! "Won't you answer the fervent prayer/Of this stranger in Paradise/Don't send me in dark despair/From all that I hunger for!" -- The Final Fifteen/Ineffable Breakup, anyone? "If I stand starry-eyed/That's a danger in Paradise" -- danger of angel/demon relationships being discovered. "I saw your face/And I ascended" [...] "Somewhere in space/I am suspended/Until I know/ There's a chance that you care" -- bits of 'Before the Beginning' and The Final Fifteen! Plus, the title alone feels perfect for Azzy's feelings/situation at the end of S2... Brb, crying!

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axolotlclown · 9 months

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The decision Aziraphale makes at the end of season 2 is because of his conflicted opinions of what is right and wrong. He has believed for thousands of years that Heaven is good and Hell is bad, and if he is not on Heaven's side, then he is not a good person. The reality is that he is not serving the Greater Good; he is serving God—who bears no responsibility to be good. This is true, but what about Crowley?

I've seen a lot of people say that Crowley is more mature than Aziraphale as he has grown past the Heaven and Hell division. This is not true. We see multiple instances of Crowley being defensive when being called "nice". He refutes it with "I am a demon, therefore I cannot be nice." (albeit in a much more colorful manner). He is seen lying and acting hostile in an attempt at, what he believes, deflecting embarrassing behavior (not murdering children).

Though, we also understand, as opposed to Aziraphale and his relationship with God, Crowley is not particularly loyal to Satan or anyone in Hell. So what is the source of this need for identity?

Crowley is less loyal to Hell and acts more so as an ally. They have a common enemy: Heaven. After all, we've never seen him fall, nor do we know the story behind it. Beyond that, he sees the way they dismiss Aziraphale.

He doesn't want to run away from Hell because he doesn't enjoy their sort of ally-ship; he still hates Heaven with all of his being—probably even more now, post season 1 finale, he wants to run away with Aziraphale. An angel that, no matter how hard he tries, cannot bring himself to hate as much as Heaven.

We understand why Aziraphale's relationship with Crowley is complicated. After all, he's a demon. He's evil. But he's nice sometimes? Crowley as a being challenges everything that Aziraphale believes. The same can be said for Crowley.

Aziraphale is kind. He's bubbly, sweet, and never afraid to get into human trouble. He often gets a little over his head, but Crowley likes protecting him—it gives him something to be loyal to. Crowley had always refused to acknowledge Aziraphale as his friend throughout season 1. To be seen with someone this kind was an embarrassment to Hell (to be a friend is worse). Perhaps Crowley is not loyal to Hell, but he still must pretend to be. Vice versa for Aziraphale.

In season 2, we see Crowley not only call Aziraphale his friend, but say it with passion, like a proclamation. This is pretty big for his character. He may be choosing his love for Aziraphale over his hatred of Heaven.

This is why he initiated the kiss rather than Aziraphale. Crowley's relationship to Hell began to dwindle. His identity begins to shift. He's not truly a demon anymore; he's just Crowley. Aziraphale hasn't had this shift in identity.

Aziraphale is an angel who obeys God. That is who he must be in order to be Good, or so he believes. He still views Crowley as a demon, and therefore beneath him. When he proposes for Crowley to become an angel again (which alone should prove my point), Aziraphale says that Crowley will be a "second in command". These strict roles and identities still matter to him. They define his purpose for existing.

The reality is Heaven exists to keep God in power, and Hell exists to keep Satan in power. This is something Crowley likely learned already. It is likely why he fell. Aziraphale also realizes this, but doesn't understand God's intentions. He likely doesn't care, because he's told he shouldn't.

In the end, Aziraphale will have to realize that his kindness bears no true loyalty. He will also have to choose his love for Crowley above his love for God—which is much more difficult. And his love for humanity, I guess. Who cares about that, though.

And then there will be sunshine and rainbows forever and ever the end.

#thoughts of dante #good omens #good omens spoilers #fattttt spoilers #also #long post #i have so many thoughts #i am going to organize these thoughts better and write an essay about it

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aethelflaedladyofmercia · 3 years

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De Amore

My fic for @aceomenszine is finally available on AO3!

Aziraphale has come to Paris to find the answer to an important question: What's it like to be in love? Crowley's not sure why he wants to know, but he's willing to discuss it to make his angel happy. Full text below!

“What’s it like to be in love?”

Crowley stumbled to a stop on the Paris street, glaring at the angel beside him. Aziraphale stared straight ahead, walking with his usual expression: calm, poised, slightly arrogant. As if he were talking about the weather.

“Dunno. S’a human thing, isn’t it?” He scowled at a few gawking peasants, hurrying to catch up. “Romance. Lust. Sex. Nothing to do with us.”

“You could say the same of hunger, or exhaustion, or boredom.”

“Yeah, and I’d be right.” Crowley held out an arm to stop Aziraphale from walking directly into a produce cart. “Neither of us gets exhausted. You’re never tired, and I just like a good nap sometimes.”

“Really?” A flicker of that mocking bastard smirk. “How many nights did you sleep this past week?”

“Nrrg. Five or six, but that’s not the point.” They started walking again, Crowley tossing an apple he’d snuck from the cart. “I could stop if I wanted to — I’d miss it, but s’not the same as being tired. Same with you and eating.”

“But if I desire a food, so strongly I can already taste it, surely that’s…if not exactly hunger, a close approximation?”

“Don’t think so.” Crowley offered the apple, but Aziraphale shook his head. “Spend a couple days in the city, you’ll see what hunger looks like. S’not about pleasure or wanting a particular food. It’s need, desperation. And we just don’t experience that.” He tossed the apple towards a group of children, and a girl in a ragged dress caught it. “Boredom I’ll grant you. I’ve definitely been bored.”

“So, we might enjoy things as humans do, but never desire them the same way,” Aziraphale mused, smoothing his hands down the front of his stolen jacket. “But is love the longing for a connection with another, or the pleasure of that connection?”

“Doesn’t really make a difference to us, does it?”

He waited for Aziraphale to respond, but the angel simply continued walking, hands folded behind his back, eyes more distant than usual.

“So?” Crowley prodded after nearly a block in silence. “What brought this on?” Aziraphale shrugged. “Let me guess. Reading novels again? Sappy poetry? Getting…ideas?” He stepped ahead of Aziraphale and walked backwards, to ensure the angel saw his suggestive eyebrow wiggle. No response. Crowley shrugged, falling back into step. “Look, f’you want to try falling in love with a human, s’your business. Let me know how it goes. Just do it back in London, I don’t need that…drama getting back to my bosses.”

“That’s not it,” Aziraphale snapped, wringing his hands. “It’s not — it doesn’t even work that way, Crowley. Humans don’t just decide to fall in love!”

“They don’t cross an ocean and charge through a revolution for a snack, either.”

“Oh, never mind. Clearly you’re the expert here.” Aziraphale froze, glaring at a shop just ahead, and threw his hands up in disgust. “And now they’ve closed my favorite creperie! Why do I even bother? Might as well return to England and feast upon whatever lumpy brown bread the first tavern I pass serves.”

“Stop being dramatic,” Crowley hissed, turning down a side street and gesturing for Aziraphale to follow. “If you get locked up again, I’m not rescuing you a second time.” The angel’s lips twisted sourly. “Look, gourmet crepes aren’t really in demand right now, but I know a place. Might still be open.”

“I suppose that will have to do.”

Crowley rolled his eyes and glared at the sky, thin grey clouds veiling the sun. He should probably just let Aziraphale stew in his own sullen displeasure. Might even give him an advantage — a distracted angel was easier to outsmart.

But Crowley hadn’t been in the business of thwarting Aziraphale for over a thousand years. Why oppose each other, when they could work…not together, but in tandem? Ensuring all their duties were fulfilled, their paperwork properly filed.

It was better this way. Less fuss all around, less inconvenience. Pleasanter conversation. More time for trips to the theater or quiet meals, either of which was a far better way to spend an evening than any sort of elaborate espionage.

He’d been looking forward to griping about his job over a mug of cider while Aziraphale worked his way through a plate of crepes, smiling and wiggling in his seat. Watching Aziraphale get excited over something was, in Crowley’s opinion, one of the best ways to pass the time.

Only the conversation had left Aziraphale annoyed, pouting and…Crowley studied him carefully, dark glasses imperfectly hiding his eyes. More than anything, Aziraphale looked hurt. A sight that always made Crowley’s stomach twist painfully.

He sighed, tossing back his head. “‘Love is an inborn suffering, proceeding from the sight and immoderate thought upon the beauty of another, for which cause above all other things one wishes to embrace the other and, by common assent, in this embrace to fulfil the commandments of love.’”[1]

“I beg your pardon?”

“Look, I don’t know. You asked me—!” Crowley walked faster, face growing hot. “It’s from some old treatise, right? Love, he says, is seeing someone beautiful and wanting sex. Then, when you have your fill…” he waved his hand vaguely.

“I see.” Aziraphale adjusted his sleeves. “I suppose that…makes sense.” But he still looked grim.

Up ahead, not quite along their path, stood one of Paris’s parks, gates now open to the public. Apart from some rubbish cluttering the entrance, it seemed well-maintained. Crowley tipped his head, inviting.

Aziraphale’s eyes lit up and he nodded, the first hint of a smile on his face. It always made Crowley feel light, that smile, however briefly it appeared.

They wandered in silence up the path, lined by trees here, flowerbeds there. Leaves had turned yellow and the grass was edged with brown, but the roses were still in bloom. Crowley paused to pluck a particularly well-formed bud.

As they crossed a bridge over a small watercourse, Aziraphale suddenly said, “Do you think it’s true, though? That — that treatise? Because it rather sounds like he didn’t see any difference between lust and love.”

“Mmh.” Crowley paused, gazing downstream, where a group of ducks swam contentedly. “As a demon? Yeah. Fits the party line. Humans don’t think of anything but their own pleasure, always wanting what they don’t have. Jealous, possessive, until something better comes along. Then it starts all over. If love and lust aren’t the same, well, they’re pretty close, right?”

“I see.” Aziraphale stepped beside him, holding out his red cap, now filled with grains of barley and cracked corn. They each took a handful and tossed it down. The ducks swam over eagerly, bobbing to catch the seeds before they drifted away.

“But as a being who’s been in the world nearly six thousand years?” Crowley threw another handful, then leaned against the railing, crossing his arms. “Not so sure. Humans do too much that can’t be explained by simple pleasure. Besides, I’ve seen what they do when overwhelmed by lust, and what they do when overwhelmed by love and…dunno. S’not the same.”

More handfuls of grains as a second group of ducks approached.

“What d’you think, Angel?” Crowley prodded. “Must be something in all those books you read.”

“Oh, quite a lot,” Aziraphale assured him. “Much of it contradictory. Many poets will only talk about their beloved’s face, or eyes, but if it were simply a matter of beauty, surely everyone would fall in love with the same beauties.”

“Sometimes they do.” Crowley rolled some seeds between his palms. “S’where the jealousy comes in. But yeah. Gotta be more to it than that.”

“I hope you’re not planning to make those poor ducks sink.”

“What? Nk — no. Course not.” He threw the grains down and the ducks quickly swarmed, turning bright shades of pink and blue and violet as they ate.

“Crowley.”

“Oh, it’s not hurting anyone.” He glanced sideways to see Aziraphale pressing his lips together, struggling not to smile. Grinning, Crowley tossed down more enchanted grains. “Go on then.”

“Hmm? Ah, yes. Well, the overall impression is that love is…transformative. Changes the way one thinks and feels at all times. They speak of, oh, the sun shining brighter, foods tasting sweeter, winter blossoming into summer. Metaphors. Others speak of — of attraction, quickened pulse, sudden heat and so on, but that’s a passing thing, part of a — a particular moment of closeness. Surely, no human could maintain such a state for an hour, never mind weeks or years!” Aziraphale offered Crowley the last handful of grain in his cap. “And once that moment passes…”

“Back to the metaphors.” The ducks below were now spotted, striped, every color of the rainbow. One bore pure white wings, beside another with midnight black. Aziraphale chuckled, very softly, which made Crowley feel immensely satisfied. Dusting off his hands, he circled the angel and continued walking.

“Yes,” Aziraphale hurried to catch up, cap twisting in his hands. “I get the sense that the feeling is so obvious, so…universal, they never think to describe it.”

“How inconsiderate.” Crowley thought it over. “So, flash of heat, racing heart, sun gets brighter, then ten pages about the color of their eyes? That about it?”

“I suppose so.” Aziraphale rubbed a finger across his lip. “Not always beauty, though. Some appear drawn by their partner’s clever mind, or acts of kindness. Some praise stories of bravery or great deeds, others fixate on meaningless symbols of wealth. But still, those only tell why one falls in love, not what it feels like.”

“Sounds like a sort of obsession.” Crowley furrowed his brow. “That treatise had a list of…sort of rules of love. Mostly about jealousy, really, don’t think the author thought much of women, but… ‘Every action of a lover ends in the thought of his beloved.’”

“I see…so that, together or apart, one cannot help but think always of the other. That certainly aligns with the evidence.” He started to replace his cap, then paused, looking inside. “Anything else of use?”

“‘Love can deny nothing to love.’” Beside him, Aziraphale turned pink and a brilliant smile broke across his face, like the sun after a storm. He pulled from the cap the bright red rosebud Crowley had hidden within.

Crowley watched as Aziraphale slid the flower into his buttonhole, drinking in the way the delighted shiver ran across his shoulders. Then the angel looked up, hitting Crowley with the full force of his smile.

Stunning. Blinding. It stole Crowley’s breath away, wiped every thought from his mind.

One day, that smile would destroy him, and he wouldn’t mind at all.

“So, this creperie — are we close?”

“Ngh. Smh. Unh. Nearly. Another block or two.” The park’s gate stood just ahead, half shut, the bustling street beyond. Crowley quickly stepped ahead, pulling it open for Aziraphale. “You, ah, find the answer you needed?”

“I…think so, yes.” He rested his fingers on the gate — so close to Crowley’s he could feel their warmth — then quickly pulled away, folding his hands behind his back. “I’ve been trying to work out…well…whether I’m in love with you, Crowley.”

“Oh.” What was he supposed to say to that? “Oh.”

“Indeed.” Aziraphale’s eyes darted nervously and he began to pace. “I-I want you to know, I don’t desire you. I’ve never felt that sort of attraction. And I’m not jealous by any means. I’m not even certain who I’m meant to be jealous of. But…” He turned back, tugging his jacket. “I think of you. Constantly. Every action, every experience reminds me of you. I go to a concert, and I can’t concentrate on the music, only whether you would enjoy it. I hear a joke and I imagine how you would laugh, or roll your eyes, and I can’t know a moment’s peace until I’ve shared it with you. And last month…when I was reprimanded…for days afterward I could think of nothing but how I wished you were there. When I finally found the strength to venture out, it was only from my determination to come here.”

“For…crepes?” Crowley offered stupidly.

“No, you silly creature, for you.” He stepped forward, reaching up as if to straighten Crowley’s lapels, but once again his hands dropped. “I hear your voice and no matter how dark my situation — no matter how absurd you look in the current fashion — I just…feel happy again.”

Aziraphale took a deep breath and lifted his eyes — hopeful, fearful, vulnerable — to meet Crowley’s.

“Oh.” Something more was probably needed. “Yeah.”

That was, apparently, the wrong thing to say.

“Well.” Aziraphale’s eyes dropped and he turned, trying to hide his expression. “Yes. I thought you should know.” He ducked his head and hurried through the gate. “Where — where is this creperie? We should try to arrive—”

“Me too.”

Crowley hadn’t meant to say anything. His mind was still ten minutes behind, struggling to catch up, but the pain on Aziraphale’s face hurt him like a blow to the chest.

The two words stopped Aziraphale in his tracks.

“I…I think about you, too.” Crowley stepped halfway through the gate, gripping the bar so tight it began to bend. “When I wake up, or fall asleep and…and away from you, here, I just…I miss you…but you — you idiot, with your crepes and your — your execution and…and then you smile and I just…” Blast! How could Aziraphale be so eloquent? Crowley swallowed and started over. “Look, m’trying to say…don’t think I can deny you anything. And. If that’s love…yeah. Me too.”

All this time, Aziraphale stood perfectly still, his back to Crowley. But now he turned, blue eyes furiously blinking. “That’s…ah…thank you. I know y-you hate being thanked but…” Aziraphale took one step closer, then another, until only inches separated them. “Thank you.”

“Nh.” He could so easily reach across that last bit of distance. Crowley didn’t know what that would accomplish, what he’d even do, but he wanted it more than he’d ever wanted anything. “Now what?”

“I don’t know.” Aziraphale’s gaze fell. “It…doesn’t change anything, does it? You’re still a demon, and I’m—”

“I don’t care,” Crowley hissed, shocked at the fervor in his own voice. “We don’t need to play by their rules. We could — run off, or—”

“We can’t. Crowley, both our sides would — they’d find us, they’d destroy you.”

“I’m willing to risk it.” He reached for Aziraphale’s hand.

“I’m not.” The angel jerked back, putting more distance between them, eyes wide. “Crowley that’s — that’s not a chance I’m willing to take. I’m sorry, but no.”

“Fine,” Crowley growled, pulling away. “What do you want?”

“I want…” Aziraphale shut his eyes, taking a shuddering breath. “I want a shop in London, where I can surround myself with books and foods and everything I enjoy. I want my superiors to trust me, let me bring good into the world my own way, without sending me all over Creation at a moment’s notice and — and punishing me for a few miracles to make my life easier. I want us to go to plays and gardens and balls together, not for clandestine meetings but because we enjoy them. To be openly in each other’s company, without fear of reprisal. And…I’d like you to visit my shop and bring me flowers or sweets. I’d serve my very best wine and…we’d talk all night about…everything and nothing. And laugh together.” His eyes fluttered open and for the first time Aziraphale looked sure of himself. “I want what we already have. Only I want more of it.”

This time he didn’t move as Crowley reached out. Long fingers carefully adjusted the rosebud, standing it straighter in its buttonhole. “Yeah. I…I’d like that, too.”

“And you don’t want anything…physical?”

Crowley snorted. “M’not a human.” But he wondered if Aziraphale’s cheek was as soft as the rosebud’s petals. “I’d like to touch you. Your hand, your face. Your wings. Hear your voice as I fall asleep. Feel your fingers in my hair. Is that…too much?”

“No.” Aziraphale smiled gently. “That sounds perfect.”

“Maybe…” Crowley fidgeted with his glasses, shuffled his feet, but refused to step away. “If we’re careful…”

“The Arrangement is already dangerous enough. You must understand…”

Crowley closed his eyes. “I do. Nothing changes.” Except there were words now, to the feeling he had when he thought of his angel. And that changed everything. When he looked again, Aziraphale nodded, as if he felt the same.

“Right then.” Crowley circled around Aziraphale, sauntering back to the main road. “Let’s see if these crepes are worth risking the guillotine.”

“My dear fellow,” Aziraphale easily kept pace. “One bite of true Breton crepes will silence your doubts forever.”

“Breton, huh?”

“Oh, yes, far superior to any others.”

“If that’s so,” Crowley smirked, remembering Aziraphale in his cell, “s’a wonder you came to Paris. Particularly in such a…controversial outfit.”

“The city has…certain other attractions.”

Something warm and heavy wrapped across Crowley’s shoulders, invisible to his eyes, though he could feel the individual feathers tickle his neck. Aziraphale strolled beside him, hands clasped behind his back, eyes forward, as if nothing were amiss.

Carefully, trying to look natural, Crowley scratched his shoulder, brushing his knuckles down a long flight feather, softer than any mortal bird’s.

Aziraphale smiled ever so slightly and flexed his wing, holding Crowley a little more tightly. An embrace that no one could see, no one could know about, except them.

“Dunno,” Crowley said. “Still seems pretty risky.”

“Yes. But I’m an incorrigible old fool. Sometimes I can’t help myself.”

“Suppose I can understand,” Crowley said as he extended his own wing, wrapping it around Aziraphale’s waist. The angel’s composure broke as he wiggled, burying himself in invisible feathers. Crowley smiled, heat running through him, a warm spring day after a long cold winter. “After all, we’re not so different, you and I.”

[1] De Amore, Andreas Capellanus, c. 1190

So happy to finally share this!

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #ace omens #ineffable husbands #asexual ineffable husbands #ace omens zine #aziraphale #crowley #love confessions #feeding the ducks #aziraphale loves crowley #crowley loves his angel #what even is love #ace fanfiction #qpp #banter #my writing #ao3 link

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