Latest Posts by mikan-28 - Page 10

“Take Me To Church” by Azra T. (insp)

Shax: You don't seem his type at all. Aziraphale: *an expression right between 🤨 and 😏*

I will never get over this. Like he's really that bitch huh

One day DT will drop his unhinged meta analysis of Crowley and aziracrow and it will be over for us amateurs

I love that God's entire plan for humanity literally hinged on what She knew would happen, which was Aziraphale being so distracted by how hot Crowley is that he'd just epicly fail at Apple Tree Guard Duty. How did the demon even get around the angel to tempt Eve? wonder the Biblical scholars of the Good Omens-verse, unaware that the answer is because said angel forgot his own damn name checking out that sexy serpent.

Do you think he’s proud of us?

Hear me out: Crowley being held prisoner in Hell in S3. Aziraphale says fuck it to his Supreme Archangel duties and sneaks into Hell cosplaying as a demon to rescue him.

It's the third time I read a fanfic where Crowley destroys his plants out of rage, and that actually had me thinking

Yes, he is hard on them. He yells, and the threatens and, well, "makes them go away"

But most of us must know by now that, every time he takes a plant away, he keeps it on the side until he gives it to his neighbor. It's canon, I'm not making that up. He never truly hurts the plants. Puts the fear of Crowley into them? Yes. Terrifies them? Absolutely. But physically hurt? I don't see it. He is way too soft for that, even in a fit of rage

The plants are, unconsciously, a mirror of himself. When he terrorizes the plants, he is reliving his trauma of not being good enough for Heaven and being tossed out like he was broken and useless over and over again

He treats the plants like Heaven and God treated him, and yet, he never truly destroys them or throws them in the trash for being disobedient or imperfect. That's a step too far. Instead, he finds them a new home. Some place better. Some place he wishes he also had found. And maybe he already did: Earth, with Aziraphale

Alas, all this to say: destroying the plants, even with his rage goggles on, it's not very him

Destroying furniture? Throwing shit at the walls? Screaming? Sure, I can see that.

So far, we've mostly seen a very controlled type of rage from Crowley, mainly aimed at Gabriel in season 2. The only scene of actually explosive active rage we see is the one where he, well... explodes in the middle of Soho

And even that was very controlled, if you think about it. He just lets it all out at once, and then the rage is gone, only the low-key depression (over fighting with bae) remaining

So, yeah, realistically, I can kinda see him breaking stuff if he is at the very end of his rope and with no other way to decompress but never ever hurting his plants. Au contraire, I believe he would turn to the plants when he comes out of the high of being furious in search of some quiet comfort

I found that I haven't posted this here before.

Things I Don't Think S3 Will Give Us (even if I really want them)

More than 2 Aziracrow kisses (I would like them to make out for 6 episodes but that's unlikely)

Aziracrow sex scene (though I wish they would)

An apology dance in present day (but I think we'll see 1650)

Crowley's pre-Fall identity (probably just some hints and that's it)

Pick up right from where S2 finished (I hate the thought of them apart for so long after The Kiss)

Crowley or Azi being tortured (this is still a comedy yo)

Aziracrow turning mortal (hate this idea)

Azi or Crowley becoming demon or angel respectively (hate this idea, they're perfect as they are)

Things I'm On The Fence About If It Will Happen or Not in S3

Aziracrow hug (please god let them hug)

Azi or Crowley death (albeit temporary)

An appearance from Jesus, God - or any of the characters from S1 not in S2 e.g. Adam, Horsemen

Narration (where's God yo?)

Scenes in Crowley's flat

Crowley sleeping (we were robbed in S1)

More long haired Crowley (I miss her) (if yes, it'd likely be through flashbacks)

Any major, permanent character deaths (when has this ever happened so far? except Ligur but ehhh)

Gabriel & Beelzebub appearing

Nina & Maggie appearing

Azi's eyes changing to purple while Supreme Archangel

Things I Think S3 Will Give Us

A happy, South Downs cottage ending for Aziracrow

More flashbacks including Blitz part 3 (I'm also hoping for 1650)

2nd Aziracrow kiss (YESSSSSSSSSS)

More Azi magic

A very funny, well thought out storyline with a satisfying conclusion, visually stunning, awesome costumes and makeup, incredible acting & a beautiful score

An angel and a demon walk into a bar.

It sounds like the beginning of a joke, one that would have annoyed Crowley greatly before- before. Maybe it would have been mildly amusing, were it not for the fact that it is a pub, not a bar (a mere technicality that somehow still mattered), and it is the first time in seven months that he is looking Aziraphale right in the face.

He chose the place, walked right out of the bookshop and across the street the second Aziraphale looked at him with his stupid purple eyes and opened his mouth. Same table, same drinks. New silence.

A demon leads an angel into a pub so he does not kiss him again.

Less of a joke, more like the beginning of a nightmare he has had every single time he tried to sleep, woken by whispered words either confirming his worst fears or greatest desires; both incite fear, one way or another.

The low table between them is enough of a barrier to prevent a repeat of their last interaction, it has to be, although this time Aziraphale is looking at him with violet-coloured longing and an apology on his lips, no longer pleading, no longer angry. He is asking for forgiveness, and if that isn't a deeply ironic twist of fate.

Before either of them says a single word, Crowley finishes his drink and raises his hand to order another one, clinging to the familiar sting of alcohol in his throat to burn away the questions lingering on his tongue.

An angel followed a demon into a pub because he loves him.

Aziraphale wishes he could tell himself Crowley looks like he did seven months ago, that he hasn't changed, but he is done lying to himself, to either of them. Behind his shades, dark, darker if that is even possible, he can feel his golden gaze heavy on his face, familiar and the answer to an empty longing in his chest.

His drink goes untouched as Crowley downs one, then another, and it is after the third that he finally begins to talk.

"What do you want?"

Bitter, sharp, spit at his feet with an anger he expected and yet doesn't know how to react to. Underneath it is pain—more pain than any being should ever have to experience—and instead of trying to carry some of it for him, he only added to it.

"I want to apologise."

"Fine." Crowley shoves his empty glass away and gets up. "I don't forgive you."

Reflexively, Aziraphale reaches out and curls his fingers around his wrist when Crowley tries to walk past him, blinking up at him with eyes the colour of dying Myosotis.

Forget-me-nots.

They both freeze, the point of contact a crack in the walls they have spent centuries building and seven months rebuilding, and he knows he has made a mistake immediately.

Crowley stares at him, still as stone, until he suddenly rips his arm out of his grasp, almost cradling it against his chest. With dawning horror, Aziraphale realises he is shaking, tremors running through him like waves breaking apart on a rocky shore.

"Don't you dare touch me." Panic, not anger. Pure, unfiltered panic blooming beside a mountain of fear that could outlast an eternity.

"I-" He doesn't know what he wants to say, what he is trying to say, what he needs to say to make him stay. Oh, the irony of it all.

Crowley leaves the pub, and the Supreme Archangel stays behind.

Not a demon anymore, not technically, he is done with sides, and deeds, and choices; he never makes the right ones anyway. His wrist hurts with the ghost of a kiss, and he cannot get the glint of purple where summer sky blue should be out of his head. 

The Bentley is waiting for him, providing an escape from the noise, the people, him.

Apologies instead of I'm coming back.

A sickening aura of holiness tinged with the burn of ozone instead of books and dust and soft, silly angel.

Seven months of waiting, of pleading with God, of cursing Her, cursing him, cursing the entire fucking world for taking and taking and taking from him without pause, without even a fragment of mercy.

For this.

An angel returns to heaven. Crowley curses the stars and cries.

the sluttiest thing a character can be is crowley in a turtleneck

“I don’t even like you!”

Yeah. Okay.

YES

I'm seeing a buncha theories saying that Aziraphale and Crowley have been having sex the whole time. May I please present to you my rebuttal? Here it is:

6000 year old virgins acting like they know what the fuck they're doing would be hysterical.

#yes yes yes #our bookshop #our car #our fragile peaceful life #precious demon #precious angel

I think we're all missing the fact Crowley spent the night in the bookshop while Aziraphale was in Edinburgh. (Aziraphale leaves during the day, picks up Shax at night, and it's clearly morning when he gets Crowley's plants in his face. Also, it's a 6-7 hour drive, so even with some small miracles, that's a looong way.)

"Goodnight!" JimGabriel waves from the top of the stairs, guileless grin plastered on his stupid archangel face.

Crowley realizes the idiot is waiting for a response. Fine. "G'niiiighT."

The door clicks closed upstairs and Crowley is alone, standing in the middle of the bookshop. Aziraphale's bookshop. He can feel the Bentley is still, and wonders where his angel is right now. "Hmph, our car," he sneers, but there is a note of affection mixed with his growl.

He turns slowly, feeling Aziraphale's absence with a pang, then saunters far too casually over to the desk, almost as if he is performing for his absent angel, wondering if Aziraphale can feel the bookshop the way he feels the Bentley. He lingers there, and his hand moves as if of its own accord, touching the papers, caressing the heavy paperweight, the angel's spectacles. The clock ticks softly in the corner. The old building creaks and settles. He murmurs the words, tastes how they feel in his mouth - "Our bookshop."

A moment later Aziraphale's chair is miracled into the hallway upstairs, opposite the door to JimGabriel's room. Crowley sits, whisky tumbler in hand, watching the door. His angel is not the only one who can guard, he thinks, settling in.