I love Anathema’s first encounter with Crowley and Aziraphale from her perspective
since it’s just like, two men dressed like a failed rock star in leather and dorky bow-tied school teacher run her over, help her, bicker the whole time, play Freddie Mercury’s ‘Bicycle,’ and at the end one says “Get in, angel.” to the other
Anathema’s only interpretation is like “I got run over by an old married gay couple with pet names for each other and questionable camp taste in everything”
I’m so surprised that so many people are reading Aziraphale’s “I’m so sorry to hear it” in response to Crowley’s “I lost my best friend” as him being a totally inept moron with zero ability to read people, when that couldn’t be farther from the truth, as far as I can see???
It was a super British reaction to an unabashed emotional outpouring. It’s an I can’t deal with this right now stiff upper lip keep calm and carry on error message of the brain.
He knows exactly what Crowley means. And when I say exactly, I don’t just mean that Aziraphale knows that Crowley is saying he is his best friend. That much he already knew. That’s par for the course by now. What he realises is that Crowley is essentially saying that because he lost Aziraphale, his life just stopped being worth anything. That he had given up, decided not to save himself by running away, and couldn’t even try to save the world, because without Aziraphale the world didn’t seem worth saving. Without Aziraphale, he didn’t have the strength or capacity or will to save the world, or himself. That because he had lost Aziraphale he was just going to sit in a bar and drink himself into a stupor and wait to die.
Aziraphale knew exactly what Crowley meant, 100%. And he was in no state whatsoever to even begin to deal with that. So he said “So sorry to hear it”, and took a second to put his heart back in his chest, and then kept calm and carried on, because he had a world to save. He had a Crowley to save.
I’m as much of a fan as anyone for affectionately calling Crowley and Aziraphale idiots, but in actuality neither of them are, at all. Aziraphale is very intelligent, including emotionally intelligent. He’s wilfully naive which manifests as idiocy sometimes, but that’s not the same thing. He wasn’t being a dolthead with no understanding of anything, in this scene. He was being his deeply emotionally-intelligent self, and just not having the time or mental space to deal with what he read in Crowley’s words. And Crowley responded to that accordingly, too. They know each other too well, and they are both too clever for any such misunderstanding.
So you’re telling me that in 2023 we’re going to get the second season of good omens and the tenth doctor back for the 60th anniversary?? Big year for people who are annoying about david tennant (me, I’m talking about myself, I’m going to be so insufferable)
I’ve seen this kind of image a few times efore. Aziraphale reaching out to Crowley Falling. But I’m listening to edgy music and needed to get this out of my system.
nothing like some edgy music and good angst to help you cope :) its been a rough week..
Warnings:Angst, no comfort, sad times for the both of them
Unreachable Star
“You are very much like a star, Raphael.”
Aziraphale couldn’t look his friend straight in the face, setting his eyes on the curls that shifted with the breathless laughter that was given. Though embrassment took hold as the laughing went on, “It’s not that funny! See if you ever get complimented from me again.” Raphael wiped the stray tear from his eye, ignoring the way Aziraphale’s lips jutted out in the most adorable pout. He pulled the other closer, leaning back into the cool patch under them as the space was as beautifully bloomed like a garden but with stars and constellations. Galaxies swirling ever slow but illuminating, it struck him that Zira had fallen silent next to him. “Tell me then, how am I like a star?”
“Well for one, you shine so brightly..”
There was much blood, ichor staining his clothes that he felt drenched but his focuses were on the wrong thing and not on the angel lunging toward him with their spear. Raphael groaned, tightening his grip on his sword and allowing the metals to crashing into each other. “How dare you disobey her! Demon!” He was not a demon, his wings were just as white and pure as the others, he..was just talking to the wrong people is all. Perhaps he did ask too many questions, about his stars, about her plans..None of that should warrant such a war! He kicked the angel in the stomach, using the blade to slash their arm and stretched his wings. He had no time for fighting, he had to make sure Zira was okay.
“Oh really? What else makes me like a star?”
“You’re just enjoying this. I will tell you no more.”
“Aw come on, sweet Zira, I’ll keep my lips shut now!”
He couldn’t ignore the dread filled pit eating away at the bottom of his stomach, the splatters of blood that fell above him. Aziraphale’s aura lead some of the rebels to tremble, some even ditching so they wouldnt have to fight the Principality. Even so now he found himself thinking of Raphael, immersed in that memory that felt so long ago now, the black feathers of the turned demons defiling what was their sanctuary. The flames dancing on the blade brought him back, hearing the agonizing scream as the fire met flesh. He pulled back, present to the fact that his face was wet with tears and the own tugging of his heart, “I-I am ever so sorry-” His apologizing was cut short but the quaking of the clouds underneath their feet, cracking as if it was fragile glass and revealing an abundant void of darkness below. ‘Is this the result of the Almighty’s anger?’
“It just so happens that I can’t think of anything else.”
“Oh angel, how you wound me.”
“I’m sure you will live, my dear. Now tell me what story you thought of for this one..”
It felt like everyone was out to get him, even his wings seemed to be of no help with how heavy they have become and the clouds collapsing underneath them. Raphael found himself running on foot, noticing fellow rebels getting tied up and captured, he could feel his heart racing knowing that he should stop to help but so sure that Aziraphale was looking for him too. He halted however, hearing the angel’s crazed laugh and harsh insult towards them, “Haha this is what you get! You were never worth the effort from the Almighty and this just proves it! I can’t wait to-” The crazy rambled stopped as their eyes rolled back, successfully knocked unconscious as the rope was cut. “Now you get out of here..” Raphael rolled his eyes at the relieved 'thank yous’, turning to make sure no one else would make an attempt to hurt them.
“I believe it is time to go, Raphael.”
“Now I’m starting to think that you just don’t want to spend time with me.”
“T-That’s not true! You’re just..too far for me to reach..I’ve said too much, goodbye dear!”
“Aziraphale wait!”
How would that conversation had went if he had stopped Zira from running? Raphael just couldn’t understand what the other meant and reminded himself of the painful expression that followed, it made his heart twist. He winced at his opening wound, pushed back into reality through the pain as Gabriel smiled wickedly. “You are not worthy of Heaven, Raphael. The Lord has made that clear herself.” He glared, readying the swing of his sword as footsteps seemed to be approaching, he needed to get the archangel off of him before he could attempt to handle anyone else attacking him. They both lunged at each other, Gabriel going on and on with his unimportant monologue as his thoughts filled only with the one he wished to see right now. “Raphael!” He perked up at the voice, watching his beloved run towards him, maybe she was still listening to his prayers after all.
“Look out!” Zira flew, ignoring the urge to freeze at the sight of streaming ichor from Raphael’s face, his sights were solely on Gabriel. “You will surely pay for that!” The clangs of the blades hid well the thunder and booming darkness behind them, he couldn’t credit himself for much of a fighter but the need to defend his star stood above all else. The archangel fell back hitting the pillar making Zira cringe at the loud crack and how fast his body went limp, though he was sure the other would wake up in due time. “Dear are you alright?” He knelt down, wiping the ichor as if it was Raphael’s tears with a solemn expression on his face. “Now now don’t look at me like that, Zira, this will heal up like nothing. Your wings on the other hand..” He had barely noticed, they twitched and recoiled as if to demonstrate the pain he was supressing so desperately. “No need to worry about me, dear, but let’s go find some where we can heal..” He trailed off, watching the clouds break beneath them, feeling the wind knocked out of him as he was pushed into safety. His eyes looking up in horror at Raphael’s saddened smile as he stumbled back and began to fall.
The darkness below wasn’t as empty as it looked as he fell, he could feel the flickers of fire licking at his wings, his blood transforming the purest of ichor to a crimson red. “Raphael!” He looked up, seeing nothing but bright light and a hand reaching towards him. Once again his thoughts filled with nothing but Aziraphale and he was falling, falling, falling. It was too late for him to find anything to grab on, too late to try and save himself, he mouthed words before he could even process them and surrendered his conscience to the abyss.
Zira knelt in frozen shock as his star seemed to disappear down below, clenching on his racing heart he wailed, he screamed to high above until his throat was sore. His body wracking in pain as his thoughts replayed Raphae’s last 'goodbye’, 'He was so close, he was right in my grasp and I lost him..I lost my star.’ Letting heartbroken sobs was all he could do, all he seemed he was good for, and the truth that he had always feared had now come true. Raphael would always be his unreachable star.
The Good Omens Cross-Stitch is now available! 60 DMC colors, 286H x 429W. Colors, sizing information, and instructions are listed on the last page of the pattern. Details under the cut.
The original art is by our very own @tio-trile, linked, as deserved, on the official Good Omens Twitter!
This pattern is available for free! If you would like to donate, though, I do have a ko-fi.
If you have any issues with downloading the pattern, try it in an incognito window, and if that doesn’t work, please let me know.
Well, hello. I usually paint portraits in oil. But now that I’ve got a tablet and PS, they open up the opportunity for artistic exploration that would normally take a long time via traditional methods. I don’t have to wait 2 days for a layer to dry for a start… so that’s encouraging.
Anyways, I like Good Omens. It also happens to be the perfect context to examine different art styles from Renaissance to Victorian times. I started this little historical Good Omens art series last month. Let’s begin with Golgotha Aziraphale and Crowley as Rembrandt style oil portraits :)
