Way To Go, Crowley

♥️

Way to go, Crowley…

Incorrect Good Omens Quotes Masterpost : here

An (not so young) Angel With Their Snake

(A Good Omens parody repaint of A Young Woman With a Macaw by Giovanni Battista Tiepolo)

This is amazing! 🤣🤣🤣

Metatron: Almighty, it’s done.

God *hungover*: Wait, what’s done?

Metatron: I told Aziraphale ‘fuck Crowley’. So he did.

God *groans*: You weren’t actually meant to tell him… ah never mind, at least they finally did it. Six thousand years is way too fucking long. Satan said it’s gonna take them at least ten thousand, so I won. Again. Fucking brilliant. I’m gonna call him. Tell Aziraphale I can marry them when they’re free.

Metatron: ……. M-marry them?

God: ???

Metatron: ???

God: Metatron?

Metatron *sweating*: Yes?

God: I feel like your fuck is different to my fuck.

Awhile ago @ouidamforeman made this post:

This shot through my brain like a chain of firecrackers, so, without derailing the original post, I have some THOUGHTS to add about why this concept is not only hilarious (because it is), but also...

It. It kind of fucks. Severely.

And in a delightfully Pratchett-y way, I'd dare to suggest.

I'll explain:

As inferred above, both Crowley AND Aziraphale have canonical Biblical counterparts. Not by name, no, but by function.

Crowley, of course, is the serpent of Eden.

(note on the serpent of Eden: In Genesis 3:1-15, at least, the serpent is not identified as anything other than a serpent, albeit one that can talk. Later, it will be variously interpreted as a traitorous agent of Hell, as a demon, as a guise of Satan himself, etc. In Good Omens --as a slinky ginger who walks funny)

Lesser known, at least so far as I can tell, is the flaming sword. It, too, appears in Genesis 3, in the very last line:

"So he drove out the man; and placed at the east of the garden of Eden Cherubims, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to keep the way of the tree of life." --Genesis 3:24, KJV

Thanks to translation ambiguity, there is some debate concerning the nature of the flaming sword --is it a divine weapon given unto one of the Cherubim (if so, why only one)? Or is it an independent entity, which takes the form of a sword (as other angelic beings take the form of wheels and such)? For our purposes, I don't think the distinction matters. The guard at the gate of Eden, whether an angel wielding the sword or an angel who IS the sword, is Aziraphale.

(note on the flaming sword: in some traditions --Eastern Orthodox, for example-- it is held that upon Christ's death and resurrection, the flaming sword gave up it's post and vanished from Eden for good. By these sensibilities, the removal of the sword signifies the redemption and salvation of man.

...Put a pin in that. We're coming back to it.)

So, we have our pair. The Serpent and the Sword, introduced at the beginning and the end (ha) of the very same chapter of Genesis.

But here's the important bit, the bit that's not immediately obvious, the bit that nonetheless encapsulates one of the central themes, if not THE central theme, of Good Omens:

The Sword was never intended to guard Eden while Adam and Eve were still in it.

Do you understand?

The Sword's function was never to protect them. It doesn't even appear until after they've already fallen. No... it was to usher Adam and Eve from the garden, and then keep them out. It was a threat. It was a punishment.

The flaming sword was given to be used against them.

So. Again. We have our pair. The Serpent and the Sword: the inception and the consequence of original sin, personified. They are the one-two punch that launches mankind from paradise, after Hell lures it to destruction and Heaven condemns it for being destroyed. Which is to say that despite being, supposedly, hereditary enemies on two different sides of a celestial cold war, they are actually unified by one purpose, one pivotal role to play in the Divine Plan: completely fucking humanity over.

That's how it's supposed to go. It is written.

...But, in Good Omens, they're not just the Serpent and the Sword.

They're Crowley and Aziraphale.

(author begins to go insane from emotion under the cut)

In Good Omens, humanity is handed it's salvation (pin!) scarcely half an hour after losing it. Instead of looming over God's empty garden, the sword protects a very sad, very scared and very pregnant girl. And no, not because a blameless martyr suffered and died for the privilege, either.

It was just that she'd had such a bad day. And there were vicious animals out there. And Aziraphale worried she would be cold.

...I need to impress upon you how much this is NOT just a matter of being careless with company property. With this one act of kindness, Aziraphale is undermining the whole entire POINT of the expulsion from Eden. God Herself confronts him about it, and he lies. To God.

And the Serpent--

(Crowley, that is, who wonders what's so bad about knowing the difference between good and evil anyway; who thinks that maybe he did a GOOD thing when he tempted Eve with the apple; who objects that God is over-reacting to a first offense; who knows what it is to fall but not what it is to be comforted after the fact...)

--just goes ahead and falls in love with him about it.

As for Crowley --I barely need to explain him, right? People have been making the 'didn't the serpent actually do us a solid?' argument for centuries. But if I'm going to quote one of them, it may as well be the one Neil Gaiman wrote ficlet about:

"If the account given in Genesis is really true, ought we not, after all, to thank this serpent? He was the first schoolmaster, the first advocate of learning, the first enemy of ignorance, the first to whisper in human ears the sacred word liberty, the creator of ambition, the author of modesty, of inquiry, of doubt, of investigation, of progress and of civilization." --Robert G. Ingersoll

The first to ask questions.

Even beyond flattering literary interpretation, we know that Crowley is, so often, discreetly running damage control on the machinations of Heaven and Hell. When he can get away with it. Occasionally, when he can't (1827).

And Aziraphale loves him for it, too. Loves him back.

And so this romance plays out over millennia, where they fall in love with each other but also the world, because of each other and because of the world. But it begins in Eden. Where, instead of acting as the first Earthly example of Divine/Diabolical collusion and callousness--

(other examples --the flood; the bet with Satan; the back channels; the exchange of Holy Water and Hellfire; and on and on...)

--they refuse. Without even necessarily knowing they're doing it, they just refuse. Refuse to trivialize human life, and refuse to hate each other.

To write a story about the Serpent and the Sword falling in love is to write a story about transgression.

Not just in the sense that they are a demon and an angel, and it's ~forbidden. That's part of it, yeah, but the greater part of it is that they are THIS demon and angel, in particular. From The Real Bible's Book of Genesis, in the chapter where man falls.

It's the sort of thing you write and laugh. And then you look at it. And you think. And then you frown, and you sit up a little straighter. And you think.

And then you keep writing.

And what emerges hits you like a goddamn truck.

(...A lot of Pratchett reads that way. I believe Gaiman when he says Pratchett would have been happy with the romance, by the way. I really really do).

It's a story about transgression, about love as transgression. They break the rules by loving each other, by loving creation, and by rejecting the hatred and hypocrisy that would have triangulated them as a unified blow against humanity, before humanity had even really got started. And yeah, hell, it's a queer romance too, just to really drive the point home (oh, that!!! THAT!!!)

...I could spend a long time wildly gesturing at this and never be satisfied. Instead of watching me do that (I'll spare you), please look at this gif:

I love this shot so much.

Look at Eve and Crowley moving, at the same time in the same direction, towards their respective wielders of the flaming sword. Adam reaches out and takes her hand; Aziraphale reaches out and covers him with a wing.

You know what a shot like that establishes? Likeness. Commonality. Kinship.

"Our side" was never just Crowley and Aziraphale. Crowley says as much at the end of season 1 ("--all of us against all of them."). From the beginning, "our side" was Crowley, Aziraphale, and every single human being. Lately that's around 8 billion, but once upon a time it was just two other people. Another couple. The primeval mother and father.

But Adam and Eve die, eventually. Humanity grows without them. It's Crowley and Aziraphale who remain, and who protect it. Who...oversee it's upbringing.

Godfathers. Sort of.

This is brilliant!

we need to talk about how close aziraphale actually was to saying no to the metatron after the kiss and why:

he's extremely conflicted and keeps looking out of the window to crowley in the car.

he previously said "nothing last forever" when crowley told him that he cant leave the bookshop (crowley also meant "you cant leave me"; the bookshop is a metaphor for their lives on earth for him) and he states exactly this as the first objection here. obviously the metatron shuts it down by appointing muriel as the next owner of the shop.

now he's stuck between wanting to be with the being he loves & who he now knows loves him back and his deep inner need/duty to do good. crowley's confession and kiss clearly made him question his decision and change his mind because here is when he actually decides for both.

you can see how he does not want to join heaven alone. he keeps looking out the window when asked if he needs anything to take with him.

he desperately needs crowley there but he can not have him so he lies and says no.

i this moment he tries to say no to heaven one last time. he starts saying "i think i-" and then looks out to crowley one last time. he's really considering crowleys offer here. i think the decision that he makes instead is actually FOR crowley as well.

he decides to join heaven not as he was previously convinced by the metatron to do good and rule together with crowley (which he did not want to do) but instead to go and keep a close eye on heaven FOR crowley.

aziraphale isnt stupid, he remembers what crowley said about heaven being toxic.

i think the confession and kiss makes him question heaven. crowley, who fell for asking questions made aziraphale question heaven too. something that he was always too scared to do. he has started to rebel in his head. he realised that something has to be up with heaven/the metatron bc they offered him the position. he decided to go but with a completely different purpose than before. 

he puts on a smile and it seems fake because it is. he wants to appear like he hasn't just fundamentally changed his position and decided to go against the one force who he was always afraid of yet dependent on. 

this is sth extremely relatable to someone who is queer and autistic and was raised by very conservative family members. even the thought of supporting queer people felt rebellious, terrifying but also extremely exiting and powerful because i knew it was the right thing to believe. 

aziraphale was being so brave here. he saw a glimpse of the life he wants and can have and choose to join heaven anyway to fight for this life. he is convinced it will not be possible for them to be together if heaven is still kicking about and making him feel powerless and scared. he wants to secure their future by changing or possibly even destroying the system from the inside out. 

unfortunately he didn't have time to tell crowley about his change of intention and i think it really breaks his heart. crowley would probably not understand it anyway. they still have a lot to work through and learn but ultimately they will find each other again. they always do.

i am so so interested to see where and how they meet again in s3, if we get it. after everything i just really want them to be happy and to spend their eternity together. they deserve it after all they went through.

Group of the Three of Us

@flashfictionfridayofficial

There has been a duckling swimming in the pond for the past few hours now. Crowley had known it was there, and has been tracking its movements out of the corner of his eye since he’d first started working out in the garden earlier that afternoon.

Seeing a duckling swim little figure-eights around the pond wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary— it’d been a normal occurrence ever since the ducks of the South Downs learned that the angel and demon pair living on the property gave out some of the tastiest treats in the village— but it was odd to see a scruffy-looking duckling all by itself with no other duck friends in sight.

Crowley pulled another weed, a beastly one with thorns, and tossed it onto the growing pile of ones already wilting under the sun. He sat back on his haunches, clapped the dirt from his gardening gloves, and wiped the sweat from his brow. Working in the garden always made him feel good, but he couldn’t help feeling a bit unnerved by the tiny set of curious eyes he could feel boring into him from time to time while he worked.

There was a bit more weeding that could be done, and the rhododendrons still needed a talking to, but this seemed like a good enough stopping point for today. He’d gotten loads more done out here than he expected to, anyway, so he could afford to laze around in the warmth of the sun until Aziraphale called him in for supper.

Throwing off his gloves, he laid back on the grass and fell into a light doze— totally unaware to the soft slap slap slap of little webbed feet making their way out of the pond and over to where he napped.

—

Something poked Crowley in the face.

It wasn’t a hard poke, but it was enough to bring him out of the pleasant doze he’d fallen into too soon for his liking.

He scrunched up his face and turned away from whatever was trying to disturb his slumber, only to have his face rudely poked once again.

Grunting, he sleepily batted a hand at the offender, fingers grazing something very soft but not making an impact, and rolled over entirely so that he was lying on his stomach with his face buried in his arms. Good luck trying to poke him in the cheek now.

He hummed, settling back down and was on the verge of dropping back off into sleep— when that blasted thing had the nerve to poke him right on the top of his head. Hard.

“What the—” Crowley snarled, whipping his head up to tell off whoever had dared to bother him, but the venomous words died on his tongue when he saw the scruffy little duckling from earlier, “duck?”

It gave a miniature quack, happy to finally be acknowledged.

“And what do you want?” Crowley brought a hand up to rub at his tired eyes, and propped his chin in his hand while he regarded the little troublemaker before him.

Another tiny quack and the duck went in for yet another poke, this time directed at Crowley’s arm.

“Hey!” Crowley dodged the tiny beak and gently nudged the duckling back a few duck-sized paces so he could push himself up from the ground. “I haven’t got any peas or oats on me. You’re out of luck, I’m afraid.” He concluded with a stretch and made his way back to the cottage.

Though, unbeknownst to the demon, the tiny duckling had followed him all the way to and through the back door.

Aziraphale was kneading dough on the bench when Crowley came up from behind and hugged him, head nestling itself comfortably between the junction of Aziraphale’s neck and shoulder. “Hullo, angel.”

“Hello, my dear.” Aziraphale leaned back into the contact and rested his head against Crowley’s. “I’m guessing the garden was behaving itself today since I saw you lying on the grass, did you have a nap?”

“Yeah, er…” Crowley squeezed his angel around the middle as he wiped the dough from his hands, “or I tried to, anyway.”

“You couldn’t sleep?” Aziraphale asked distractedly, setting the towel over the bowl of dough so it could rise before baking.

“Not as such,” Crowley nuzzled against Aziraphale’s neck, planting a soft kiss there, “I got disturbed in the middle of it.”

“Oh? By what?”

“A lone duckling of all things.”

Aziraphale turned in Crowley’s hold with a smile but before he could give him a peck on the cheek, Aziraphale noticed something over his demon’s shoulder. “Ah,” he started, desperately trying not to laugh, “would that happen to be the duckling you were talking about?”

“Wot?” Crowley’s head whipped around to look over his shoulder at the duckling (turned intruder) and it had the gall to tilt its fuzzy little head back at him. “Uh… yeah.”

“Hello, little one.” Aziraphale cooed, beckoning the little creature closer with a miraculously full palm of peas. “Aren’t you just the most darling thing?” He brushed a careful finger over delicate feathers that needed a preening.

Crowley harrumphed. “A tiny menace, more like.”

“Awww, Crowley, don’t be like that.” Aziraphale continued to coo, and a thought occurred to him. “You said it was all alone?”

“Yeah,” Crowley watched as the duckling climbed into Aziraphale’s hand, and had to admit that it was pretty damn cute, especially paired with the angel’s unrestrained look of joy, “didn’t see any other ducks around it.”

“Could we, erm—” Aziraphale started, looking up through his lashes, and Crowley immediately knew exactly what the angel was about to ask. “Could we keep it? It could be like our own little found family.”

“Aziraphale, you’re already a part of my family.” And the only one I need in it, Crowley didn’t say. “We don’t need a duckling for that.”

“Yes, but… well, it’s all alone and we—”

“Fine.”

They could be a group of the three of them, he supposed.