#good omens meta

madenthusiasms:

fairyglass-tells-stories:

thegoodomensdumpster:

bluebandedagate:

thegoodomensdumpster:

c-is-for-circinate:

Something that’s been very interesting to me, in this new wave of post-miniseries Good Omens fandom, is the apparent fannish consensus that Crowley is, in fact, bad at his job.  That he’s actually quite nice.  That he’s been skating by hiding his general goodness from hell by taking credit for human evil and doling out a smattering of tiny benign inconveniences that he calls bad.

I get the urge towards that headcanon, and I do think the Crowley in the miniseries comes off as nicer than the one in the book.  (I think miniseries Crowley and Aziraphale are both a little nicer, a little more toothless, than the versions of themselves in the book.)  But maybe it’s because I was a book fan first, or maybe it’s because I just find him infinitely more interesting this way–I think Crowley, even show!Crowley, has the capacity to be very good at his job of sowing evil.  And I think that matters to the story as a whole.

A demon’s job on Earth, and specifically Crowley’s job on Earth, isn’t to make people suffer.  It’s to make people sin.  And the handful of ‘evil’ things we see Crowley do over the course of the series are effective at that, even if the show itself doesn’t explore them a lot.

Take the cell phone network thing, for instance.  This gets a paragraph in the book that’s largely brushed off in the conversation with Hastur and Ligur, and I think it’s really telling: 

What could he tell them?  That twenty thousand people got bloody furious?  That you could hear the arteries clanging shut all across the city?  And that then they went back and took it out on their secretaries or traffic wardens or whatever, and they took it out on other people?  In all kinds of vindictive little ways which, and here was the good bit, they thought up themselves.  For the rest of the day.  The pass-along effects were incalculable.  Thousands and thousands of souls all got a faint patina of tarnish, and you hardly had to lift a finger.

In essence, without any great expenditure of effort (look, I’d never say Crowley isn’t slothful, but that just makes him efficient), he’s managed to put half of London in a mental and emotional state that Crowley knows will make them more inclined to sin.  He’s given twenty thousand or a hundred thousand or half a million people a Bad Day.  Which, okay, it’s just a bad day–but bad days are exhausting.  Bad days make you snap, make you fail at things, make you feel guiltier and more stressed out in the aftermath when you wake up the next day, makes everything a little worse.  Bad days matter.

Maybe it’s because I’m a believer in the ripple effect of small kindnesses, and that means I have to believe in its opposite.  Maybe it’s just that I, personally, have had enough days that were bad enough that a downed cell network (or an angry coworker because of a downed cell network) would honestly have mattered.  But somebody who deliberately moves through the world doing their best to make everyone’s lives harder, with the aim of encouraging everybody around them to be just a little crueler, just a little angrier, just a little less empathetic–you know what, yes.  I do call that successful evil.

It’s subtle, is the thing.  That’s why Hastur and Ligur don’t get it, don’t approve of it.  Not because Crowley isn’t good at his job, but because we’ve seen from the beginning that Hastur and Ligur are extremely out of touch with humanity and the modern world and just plain aren’t smart enough to get it.  It’s a strategy that relies on understanding how humans work, what our buttons are and how to press them.  It’s also a strategy that’s remarkably advanced in terms of free will.  Hastur and Ligur deliberately tempt and coerce and entrap individuals into sinning, but Crowley never even gets close.  We never see him say to a single person, ‘hey, I’ve got an idea for you, why don’t you go do this bad thing?’  He sets up conditions to encourage humans to actually do the bad things they’re already thinking of themselves.  He creates a situation and opens it up to the results of free choice.  Every single thing a person does after Crowley’s messed with them is their own decision, without any demonic coercion to blame for any of it.

You see it again in the paintball match.  “They wanted real guns, I gave them what they wanted.”  In this case, Crowley didn’t need to irritate anybody into wanting to do evil–the desire to shoot and hurt and maybe even kill their own coworkers was already present in every combatant on that paintball field.  Crowley just so happened to be there at exactly the right time to give them the opportunity to turn that fleeting, kind-of-bad-but-never-acted-upon desire into real, concrete, attempted murder.  Sure, nobody died–where would be the fun in a pile of corpses?  But now forty-odd people who may never have committed a real act of violence in their entire lives, caught in a moment of weakness with real live weapons in their hands, will get to spend the rest of their lives knowing that given the opportunity and the tiniest smidgen of plausible deniability, they are absolutely the sort of people who could and would kill another human being they see every single day over a string of petty annoyances.

Crowley understands the path between bad thought andevil action.  He knows it gets shorter when somebody is upset or irritated, and that it gets shorter when people practice turning one into the other.  He understands that sometimes, removing a couple of practical obstacles is the only nudge a person needs–no demonic pressure or circumvention of free will required.

I love this interpretation, because I love the idea that Crowley, who’s been living on Earth for six thousand years, actually gets people in a way no other demon can.  I love the idea that Crowley, the very first tempter, who was there when free will was invented, understands how it works and how to use it better than maybe anyone else.  And I really love the idea that Crowley our hero, who loves Aziraphale and saves the world, isn’t necessarily a good guy.

There’s a narrative fandom’s been telling that, at its core, is centered around the idea that Crowley is good, and loves and cares and is nice, and always has been.  Heaven and its rigid ideas of Right and Wrong is itself the bad thing.  Crowley is too good for Heaven, and was punished for it, but under all the angst and pain and feelings of hurt and betrayal, he’s the best of all of them after all.

That’s a compelling story.  There’s a reason we keep telling it.  The conflict between kindness and Moral Authority, the idea that maybe the people in charge are the ones who’re wrong and the people they’ve rejected are both victim and hero all at once–yeah.  There’s a lot there to connect with, and I wouldn’t want to take it away from anyone.  But the compelling story I want, for me, is different.

I look at Crowley and I want a story about someone who absolutely has the capacity for cruelty and disseminating evil into the world.  Somebody who’s actually really skilled at it, even if all he does is create opportunities, and humans themselves just keep living down to and even surpassing his expectations.  Somebody who enjoys it, even.  Maybe he was unfairly labeled and tossed out of heaven to begin with, but he’s embraced what he was given.  He’s thrived.  He is, legitimately, a bad person.

And he tries to save the world anyway.

He loves Aziraphale.  He helps save the entire world.  Scared and desperate and determined and devoted, he drives through a wall of fire for the sake of something other than himself.  He likes humans, their cleverness, their complexities, the talent they have for doing the same sort of evil he does himself, the talent they have for doing the exact opposite.  He cares.

It’s not a story about someone who was always secretly good even though they tried to convince the whole world and themself that they weren’t.  It’s a story about someone who, despite being legitimately bad in so many ways, still has the capacity to be good anyway.  It’s not about redemption, or about what Heaven thinks or judges or wants.  It’s about free will.  However terrible you are or were or have the ability to be, you can still choose to do a good thing.  You can still love.  You can still be loved in return.

And I think that matters.

It’s also worth noting that when Crowley gives people means and opportunities to make a bad choice, that doesn’t take away from them the ability to make a good choiceinstead. 

If people were only offered one possibility to act, it would make their sin less meaningful, it would make Crowley’s work less meaningful. But for those who actually decide to not go and yell at their secretary because the phone network being down has been rougn on their nerves, it’s also an effort that becomes meaningful in the right way.

So, yeah, I really agree on all of this, especially the part about free will. That’s what is essential in both Crowley and Aziraphale’s characterizations, and it’s at the very core of the story.

You know what? This makes me want to see a story where Aziraphale and Crowley are actually incredibly good at their jobs. They’ve been on Earth all this time and they really are the most effective field agents Heaven and Hell have - never mind if that effectiveness is cancelled out by the arrangement.

When Crowley and Aziraphale go rogue, someone has to fill in for them. After all, there’s still a job to be done, even if no one anticipated having to do it. However, whoever the new agents are - whether they’re a new principality and a new demon of equivalent rank or a small team of Angels and arch-angels against a little squad of imps - have nowhere near the level of “success” that the previous two did. They don’t understand Earth, humans, or free will, and they’re about four thousand years away from being at the same place the Ineffable Husbands were when they made the arrangement.

I want to see Heaven and Hell, who laughed and sneered at their earthly agents, come to realize just how valuable they were. I want the sweet satisfaction of the two sides missing Crowley and Aziraphale as a jealous ex misses you after you’ve long since moved on.

Aha yes, the reaction of Heaven and Hell alone would be priceless !

I agree with the OP 110%.  Crowley is notbad at his job, he’s fucking brilliant at it. But he doesn’t do this 1-on-1 crap like in the old days.  He’s become a Logistical Nightmare of Efficency in the most nightmarish of hellish sense. He sows discontent and malaise through thousandsof souls at a time, not just a handful who happen to be near by.

If anything, if you really didn’t want to classify Crowley as “evil”, he’s a Trickster God. He’d hang out with Loki and Papa Legba.

He just sets up the pieces and lets Humainty choose how they want them to tumble. He gives you the choice to do right, but is right there to point out how much worse/fun being bad will be. All for the the low, low price of your soul. And yes, maybe he sort of pads his success by picking people already leaning into their darker inclinations (again, see the Paint Ball into Live Ammunition), but it’s also why he always seems so disapointed when they come up with things before he can even suggest them (see the “animals” in the Bastille, see the “stupid Nazi spies” in WWII). An argument could be made he’s disapointed they got there before he could. But it’s cool, because he’ll take the credit anyway.

Heaven and Hell are absolutely going to notice both Crowley and Aziraphale’s absenses, eventually, though maybe in a human generation or two.  Not right away, they’re slow to catch up.  And that’s what’ll make Our Side victorious.

It makes me a bit nuts when either A or C are considered incompetent. If they actually sucked at their jobs, either one would have been replaced ages ago, because in addition to taking credit for human things, someone is doing the blessings and temptations each side asks for.

But Crowley is that bit better because he takes initiative. He invents ways to get people to sin. And he’s willing to put in hard work if necessary, as when he went out at night to move markers for the M25.

Not only are they very good at their jobs, they’re very good at each other’s job! That’s the whole point of the Arrangement, that both are capable of pulling off blessings and temptations.

You know at some point Crowley was out there giving Aziraphale lessons in How to Tempt Humans, mostly for his own amusement, and probably waaaay before the Arrangement crossed his mind, because he’d never suggest it if he didn’t already believe Aziraphale capable of matching his skills. And Crowley must have done enough good miracles on his own for Aziraphale to be confident he could pretend to be an angel without giving in to his chaotic/trolling tendencies or else he’d never have agreed to it.

Is there anything more iconic in Good Omens than David Tennant driving a flaming Bentley down an English road while Bohemian Rhapsody plays?

Possibly, but it’s still an awesome moment.

Especially when our lanky demon steps out, swaggering like an action movie star here to save the day, giving the one-liner he clearly spent half the journey thinking up: “You wouldn’t get that sort of performance from a modern vehicle.”

I wrote “In Love with My Car” because Crowley loves his car, period. It’s his home, in a way his flat never really is. When filming it’s final destruction, David Tennant’s only acting direction was: you are the Doctor and you just saw the Tardis destroyed. (Side note: that is the perfect kind of direction to give DT, not because he used to be the Doctor, but because he’s a huuuuuge Doctor Who fanboy and has probably written that fanfiction.)

Now, I learned more than I really ever thought I’d need to know about vintage cars while researching this story, but for those who have not, in the book Crowley has a 1928 Bentley, and on the show a 1933. This is rather a big difference.

I mean the ‘28 is cute and all. It’s like an old timey cartoon of a car. If I saw one of these on fire driving down the road, I’d be like “no, that’s fair, I expected that.”

The ‘33 is, if nothing else, much more in line with modern ideas of what a cool car should look like. Graceful, curving, solid. This was a car that was made to have good performance - above average, but you know, not German automobile levels - but also made to make you look rich and awesome in a decade where most people were not.

But book or TV show, it does NOT change the fact that Crowley loves the Bentley. Perhaps even more so in the book - like scroll back up and look at that thing. It’s like a sports-tractor. Book Crowley is very concerned with always having the latest, coolest flashiest things, yet he has a car that looks like it frequently gets outpaced by snails. Even TV Crowley, with his fondness for mementos and antiques, is constantly changing and updating his look to match the height of cool in every era, and the vintage Bentley look probably peaked in like the 1960s in the James Bond era.

What I’m saying is, if the point was to just look cool, both Crowleys would probably be driving some model of Jaguar at the very least.

But also in both - though you can obviously see it better on the show - the Bentley performs like a modern Jaguar (or, whatever). Like, Crowley shouldn’t be able to do 90 in Central London for the simple fact that a vintage Bentley can’t reach those speeds. The ‘33 could, as its max speed, under ideal circumstances which included “going downhill” and “perfectly smooth and straight road.” But Crowley drives it, screeching up the road, handling corners perfectly, at speeds that would make any driving instructor pass out.

But the Bentley is the Best Car. Crowley knows this, believes it, feels it in his soul. So when other cars start getting better, the Bentley does too, to match them. No fancy foreign Ferrari is going to outperform his awesome Bentley!

There’s been a lot written about how Crowley interacts with the spaces in his apartment. He keeps everything clean and open and minimalist, because space is such a luxury in Hell. He shouts at his plants because he’s reliving the abuse he suffers in Hell, and the rejection he received from Heaven.

The Bentley, though, represents the face he shows the world. Dark and powerful and cool and a little out of place but full of so much unmistakable style that really you have to question what every other car is doing wrong by not being a Bentley. This is exactly the kind of being Crowley wishes to be. The kind that turns every head when he comes in a room, the kind that always handles everything with effortless grace and style, the kind that everyone makes space for and just watches pass in utter awe.

Even when he talks to the car, primarily during the bits where it’s on fire, he’s encouraging it, telling it how good of a car it is, how it can do this utterly insane thing that it really, really can’t. It’s the complete opposite of how he treats his plants (degrading and berating them when for every tiny failure), because while the plants represent a part of himself he’s trying to distance himself from, the Bentley allows him to be who he wants to be.

And that is something that he would never, ever exchange for any other vehicle.

Anyway, you can read more about my thoughts on Crowley’s thoughts on his car in my fanfiction, “In Love with My Car” over on AO3!

(Note to readers: looking like a very good chance of no update this week. I will post this evening with current progress on my upcoming stories.)

wisteria-lodge:

(and just to be REALLY CLEAR, I love them both. But the differences are fascinating, since it’s the same author adapting his work after almost 30 years. And how often do you get to see *that*?)

Crowley

Okay. So Book!Crowley is healthy.Just, absurdly well-adjusted. This is a man (demon) just happywith who he is and where he is in life. Sure Hell is annoying, but they mostly leave him alone, and he’s supposed to do paperwork, but… doesn’t. (They never check on the other end, it’s fine.) Aziraphale might be a little hung up on Heaven & similar, but he’s coming to his senses. Slowly. It might be another couple thousand years. But Crowley can wait. 

But Show!Crowley is *trying* so very hard. To be cool, successful, appreciated. Book!Crowley gets an award for the M25 motorway, Show!Crowley gets blank stares and stupid questions. This is someone who wants recognition, who wants love, and isn’t getting it. He’s erratic and fragile, kind of chip-on-his-shoulder, and part of this is David Tennant himself (who has never *once* played a character I would describe as “emotionally stable.”) But part of it is the way Show!Crowley is written. 

I’m thinking of the paintball scene where Aziraphale calls Crowley “nice.” Book!Crowley rolls his eyes and says, “All right, all right.Tell the whole blessed world, why don’t you?” (”Yes, angel, I know, but I’m on the clock right now and my boss is not happy.”) Show!Crowley, well. Memorably slams Aziraphale into a wall with, “SHUT IT. I’m a DEMON. I’m not NICE. I’m never NICE. NICE is a four-letter word.” @everentropy has a very nice meta about Crowley’s issues with the word nice, but no matter how you slice it, this says (loud and clear) that Show!Crowley is notcomfortable with his softer side. Not even a little bit. He is “Cool Demon Crowley” because at least that’s safe.

The terrified houseplant joke also gets a different varnish in the show. In the book, it’s as if Crowley skimmed a magazine, read an article about talking to plants, read anotherarticle about the benefits of screaming into pillows, and then sort of combined them? This comes right after the joke about Crowley’s speakers (which his expensive sound system doesn’t have, because he wasn’t aware it *needed* speakers). This makes “threatening the houseplants” feel more like an “angels and demons trying to understand humanity, but subtly missing the point” sort of joke.

But on the show it’s more sinister. In Crowley’s big moments of pain and anguish, he is surrounded by those plants. With the show-specific “de-motivational” posters lining Hell, I think it’s fair to day that Crowley treats his plants this way because that’s just how he thinks motivationworks.That’s how it works inHell. 

Show!Crowley is real danger of saying “Screw it. These jokers (Hell) (Aziraphale) don’t APPRECIATE what I do. What is the point of any of this. I’m OUT.” And then, actually leaving. 

Aziraphale

Book!Aziraphale is a little mysterious. We don’t spend *that much* time inside his head, and the time we doget mostly revolves around his books. But we do learn that his taste in books is kind of… subversive. Here’s an angel who likes to collect books of prophecy (accurate and inaccurate) and bibles with printing errors. Aziraphale says he’s loyal to the Great Plan and the Word of God and all that, then turns around and attributes the entire book of Revelations to bad mushrooms. And when he’s drunk, he turns into a clever little rules lawyer. Nope, Book!Aziraphale has absolutely been Doubting Heaven, sneakily, for a long time. And he lays on the angelic Sweetness and Light a little thick for Crowley’s benefit. 

Book!Az is tough, and a little ruthless. He’ll do things like glare at customers, and scare mobsters away from his shop. Killing the Antichrist is his plan, not Crowley’s. But Show!Az is just pure sweetness, and pure light. There’s no part of him that isn’tthe sugary lemon meringue frosting you get on the surface. And the show makes it veryclear that that is strength. You don’t have to be tough to be strong. 

And that’s the difference. The 1990 novel was about questioning authority, questioning structures, questioning whatever role society hands you. The Antichrist just… refuses to be the Antichrist, and that saves the day. Crowley is our model: neither angel nor demon, critical of both, happy in his own world. Az is the one who needs to finish shaking off his programming. And when I was a teenager, that was exactly what I needed to hear. 

But now… Adam says that Satan cannot punish him, because Satan did not love him first. This series is about the terrible risks of loving, and the strength that comes from being honest, being vulnerable (”I’m just a kid” “That’s not a bad thing to be.”) The importance of letting yourself be known.Show!Az and Show!Crowley switch bodies at the end. How much more *known* can you get? 

But, it’s hard. It’s so hard for both of them. It’s hard for Crowley to take down all his defenses, and publicly acknowledge that he would rather die than never talk to Aziraphale again. And it’s hard for Aziraphale to stay sweet and pure and emotionally honest, and in love, because it can hurt so much. But they do it. It’s worth it. And that’s the message I needed now, Mr. Gaiman. Thank you. 

z-aliada:

theniceandaccurategoodomensblog:

Yes!

And – Aziraphale is good with details, with getting all the little puzzle pieces to fit. Crowley is a big picture demon. He has imagination. He has sharp leaps of insight that leave everyone else behind.

etaleah:

I love how Crowley and Aziraphale are different kinds of intelligent. They’re both super smart and idiotic at the same time, but in different ways and it’s beautiful.

Aziraphale is book smart. He knows obscure facts, history, literature, math. He can do calculations and understand Old English easily. If you give him enough time, he can analyze situations well and come up with an excellent strategy. Remember, he was the one who realized something went wrong with the baby swap, and he wasn’t even there when it happened. He’s also the first to suggest being at Warlock’s birthday party and works out all the details about the Antichrist.

Yet he can’t pick up on sarcasm to save his life, walked right into the trap the Nazis had set for him, and thinks Major Milkbottle is a real person.

Crowley is street smart, or social smart. He can read a room and think on his feet. When Aziraphale is confronted with angels, he turns into a stammering mess, but when Crowley is confronted with demons, he comes up with an escape plan on the spot. He may not know whether ducks have ears or who Agnes Nutter is, but he can tell when someone is lying or doesn’t have good intentions. He knew which kid was the Antichrist despite never having seen any of the Them before, that the war was still on despite the Horsepersons disappearing, that Greta wasn’t who she said she was, and who to bribe for his M25 plan. He can also read and understand Aziraphale better than anyone else. And that’s not even getting into his ability to keep up with and use the latest technology, design, music, and fashion.

They may both be idiots, but they’re also intelligent in ways unique to them, and it makes them perfect for each other.

It is another way they make a brilliant team, actually.

Exactly. It’s even visible in their lying / self-defence styles (which are essentially the same thing in the context of Heaven/Hell). Aziraphale cannot handle any deviation from the “script” and is easily flustered, but he always has a script and just the right wording to go along with it to avoid appearing inconsistent. So, when presented with something unexpected, he especially feels the pressure of not being allowed to get it wrong. Hence all the nervousness. For him, preparation is a “crutch” that he thinks he wouldn’t manage without. Yes, it makes him feel more comfortable, but, as evident from several scenes at the end, he’s also capable of improvising. 

Sometimes that improvisation has hilarious consequences, though: for instance, in the “sorry, right number” scene, when he’s so overwhelmed by his sudden discovery that he ends up blurting out the truth instead of coming up with a more conventional (and far less suspicious) way to end a phone call (therefore, you could say that the “phone call” script has failed due to the high anxiety levels :D).

On the contrary, Crowley is naturally comfortable with improvisation. He’s capable of remaining cool and collected. He lies confidently, sometimes even smugly. Unlike Aziraphale, he doesn’t trip himself up by practicing phrases and, therefore, cutting off other potential escape routes. He trusts himself to figure out the right thing as he goes. 

And one more ironic thing. Crowley is careful and calculating when needed, but not even once did he thought to question Aziraphale’s odd behavior after their Tadfield outing and doubt his words. Why? Because he’s trusted Aziraphale for thousands of years. Because, intuitively, Aziraphale is not someone to whom words like ‘suspicion’, ‘deception’ can apply. If the roles were reversed, I don’t think Aziraphale would suspect Crowley of something like this either, but remarks like ‘You are a demon. That’s [lying] what you do’ prove that he doesn’t discard this fact (possibility) altogether. Yes, again, intuitively he knows that it’s Crowley and that he would trust Crowley with his life, so this is basically Aziraphale trying to convince himself of things (in this case, suspicions) he doesn’t feel, but it’s still something that goes through his mind (as a cautionary tale, a warning if you like) and enters his speech. What he does here is apply conventional, “safe” scripts to reality and repeat them from time to time to ensure they are not forgotten and/or overlooked. They are also what he bases his defence against Heaven on. 

As noted earlier, Crowley is good at developing ideas from scratch. Whereas Aziraphale, it seems, is more likely to operate in the established context. His creative (and ultimately world-saving) interpretations of ineffability (more evident in the book rather than in the series) are a proof of that. In a way, he simply doesn’t have the luxury of discarding anything he’s been taught and coming up with something different. He has to function within the system to survive. And so he does. 

I like to think this is why the Arrangement worked so well for them, too. If they traded jobs not at random, but according to their unique skills, they’d get better results than doing everything themselves (aside of the benefits of not doing the things at all that would cancel each other out or only one having to travel). By their different intelligence types and ways of thinking, there will naturally be tasks that are easy for Crowley, but difficult for Aziraphale and vice versa. I imagine Aziraphale will be great at following along with the tasks that come with a more detailed script, while still bending the rules given in the assignment into something more desirable for him. Likewise, Crowley improvises all the time. A vaguely worded assignment will probably stress out Aziraphale, because he doesn’t know what is expected of him, but Crowley will strive on the freedom of interpreting it as suits his ideas. On the other hand, given too much freedom to be creative, Crowley will end up with one of those ridiculous complicated schemes that backfire on him as much as on everyone else. I can’t see that happening to Aziraphale. It’s not just that they balance each other out as friends/partners in a social context; they also really make a great working team.

If they played out their individual strengths right, they don’t only get to avoid some of their work, they also get better results. I don’t think this is something they’ll have been able to do from the start, they’d have to get to know each other’s working style and strengths first, but the Arrangement was on for a full thousand of years. Aziraphale is rather a good analytical thinker. Crowley is creative and puts in lots of effort to get the best credit he can while putting in the least amount of work possible. They’d figure out who does what best eventually.

It’s also something I think would give them an edge in a post-canon confrontation, should it come around. Not only do Heaven and Hell not really know them very well, but both of them also have lots of experience doing each other’s job, bending the rules and thinking outside the box. Heaven and Hell would be facing an angel who has been doing temptations for a millennium. A demon who knows how to do a blessing so well nobody ever caught on. Their (former) superiors don’t really know what they’re up against.

everentropy:

kedreeva:

mollysynthetic:

tickety-boo-af:

kedreeva:

kedreeva:

Okay, I’m going to tell you a thing about Good Omens, but first you have to listen to a thing about physics, but I promise it’s relevant.

In brief and (hopefully) simple terms (and I know it’s WAY more complex than this but we only need the gist of it), there’s this theory that Time is actually a dimension. You’ve got the zero, first, second, and third dimensions that ordinary creatures like humans perceive, and then on top of that we have the fourth dimension which affects us.

The thing about these sorts of dimensions is that a third dimension creature (like a human) lives in the third dimension but is capable of perceiving the dimensions below their own in at least semi-concrete ways. Picture it like this: The zero dimension is a dot on a piece of paper. The first dimension is the same dot, but viewed from the side, where 1D creatures could see it is actually a line. The second dimension is the same line, but viewed from the a second side, where a 2D creature could see it is actually a square. The third dimension is the same square, but viewed from a third side, where a 3D creature like a human could see it’s actually a cube.

Now, say that I am a 3D creature looking at the 2D square on the piece of paper. I am capable of perceiving that second dimension. I am also capable of affecting that dimension; for instance, if I fold the piece of paper in the middle of where the line is drawn. The 2nd dimension can be affected by the 3rd dimension, even if it can’t really perceive the 3rd dimension the way it perceives its own and lower dimensions.

Thefourth dimension is reckoned to be Time. Third dimension creatures, like humans, can be affected by time, but we can’t really perceive it the way a 4D creature does. We can’t even really guess how a 4D creature sees the world, because where would you even start? It’s a little bit… ineffable, you might say.

Now, Crowley and Aziraphale, in their true forms, should be at least 4D beings, capable of living in the 4th dimension (time) while being able to experience/perceive the dimensions below their own. Now, I would posit that actually these two exist in more than 4 dimensions, I would say (if we’re following String Theory here) that they could exist in up to 7 dimensions (the 7th being the dimension where one can access multiple dimensions, which explains the existence of heaven/hell), but that’s… complicated.

The point is, the POINT issss…. if they are 4D+ beings, then the third dimension - OUR dimension - is to them what a drawing on a paper is to us. Their corporations are, essentially, a 3D representation of themselves the way we might represent ourselves by drawing pictures on a piece of paper. These projections of themselves would be governed by the rules of the third dimension; including the ability (or maybe necessity) to experience time the way we do while they are here (hence why powerful immortal creatures cannot skip around in time while they have corporations).

Anyway, basically what I’m saying is that god wrote a 3D comic strip and put them in it and is now the frustrated equivalent of a writer whose characters just won’t stop doing things without permission dammit. That or, y’know, she fucked off after creating it and they’ve been writing a slow-burn self-insert fancomic ever since while they wait for her to get back.

This would also explain their ability to a) manipulate time the way Crowley stops it several times (consider the way we can manipulate a 3D object), b) travel between heaven and hell and Earth (even though it appears they must do so with the aid of technology like the portal runes or the globe in heaven), c) not be seen by humans at any given time even though they’re in plain sight to the camera (they may be interacting with extra dimensions somehow so as to not be seen), and d) appear to us to teleport (because we may not be able to see their interactions in a fourth dimension).

Now of course you could explain it as “it’s magic” but at the same time, of course it would seem like magic. A square on a piece of paper looking at a cube might assume the cube is doing magic when in fact the cube is just interacting with the third dimension. For example, perhaps a square would see a cube resting on one side as a square. If you were to roll that cube up onto an edge, it would appear (to the square) to become a line. Were you to lift the cube and set it down somewhere else on the square’s paper, the cube might appear (to the square) to have teleported. It would appear to be magic when in fact none of these things have happened; the cube is merely interacting with a dimension the square cannot perceive, the same way angels and demons may appear to be magic but are, potentially, interacting with additional dimensions we cannot see.

Now, you might say that the way Aziraphale and Crowley act (or the actions they take) don’t make sense if they don’t experience time in a linear fashion but I would argue that those actions do make sense. Just because one can perceive time as a dimension does not mean that they can see all time everywhere. Just because we exist in 3 dimensions does not mean we see all 3D objects at once, or that we can see all angles of every object at once or even that we understand, as individuals, every object we ever see (for example, how many sightings have their been of cryptid creatures? How many phenomena in nature have we seen but been unable to explain for a while?).

Imagine that you are standing at the top of the Eiffel Tower. You can see a LOT of 3D objects from there, for sure. But not all of them. You cannot see the Sears Tower in the US. You can see the Sydney Opera House in Australia. You also cannot see inside of all of those 3D objects. You can’t even see the far side of them. You cannot see the individual atoms that make up those objects without using some kind of technology. You also cannot manipulate the tower as a whole; you can move through it, and climb it, take pictures of it, etc, but you, as an individual, cannot pick it up and move it the way you can pick up a small cube, and in fact it would take a lot of inventing things in order for it to be picked up and moved by 3D beings. Even though you and 3D objects are both parts of the third dimension, there are limitations to how you can perceive and interact with one another.

So I would have to suppose that a being which sees in 4D would have similar (if unknown to me) limitations, the most obvious of which is that they may only see time in the space they are currently in. Perhaps there are things they can see but not really manipulate (like wind- you can move a little bit of air but not change a windstorm, or complete timelines may be like the Eiffel Tower; too big to move or affect as an individual without assistance). Maybe there are things which are hazardous to do (like how we can see magma and COULD touch it but it would damage us). There’s also the idea of optical illusion- our ability to perceive things we see can be manipulated by certain things like arrangements of color or placements of shapes (think of the person who took pictures of a giant penny beside large objects, in order to make them look small; they were not, but our knowledge of what a penny is informs our relative knowledge of the size of the car it is beside). Simply being able to perceive and manipulate some aspect of time doesn’t necessarily mean omnipotence or complete control of it, and their abilities would be further hindered by them moving part or all of the consciousness into a 3D body.

I don’t really have a point, I just wanted to talk about this more because I’m excited.

This is delightfully fun to contemplate. Crowley especially seems to have a few extra-sensory abilities, which are hinted at but not explained: 1) he can pause time, 2) he can sense where other ethereal/occult beings are or where their attention is (for example, finding an imperiled Aziraphale, and the body swap “Is anyone looking?”), and 3) in the book he references a future invention to Leonardo DaVinci. These all suggest an ability to at least interact with 4D+ dimensions. And it’s the last one about seeing far into the future that really makes me wonder.

I also wonder how much his interactions with short-term future time help him plan his demonic deeds. There’s imagination that allows humans to plan and create models for what we think the future will look like. But if you could actually see probable futures, it would be much more clear what actions to take. For example, knowing that only a rodent infestation would allow Crowley unfettered access to the mobile network controls. Or just how far reaching the effects would be of Londoners losing cell reception for 45 min. Unfortunately, he often forgets to check on himself in the future vision, so that leads to getting caught up in his own schemes.

And maybe it’s less an ability to sense where Aziraphale is that allows Crowley to swoop in and save him. Maybe he’s also peeking into time to find out what his angel is likely to be up to.

I need to know what the fifth and sixth dimensions are?!

@mollysynthetic

I can answer that! Maybe not simply!! But I will try! We’re going off of superstring theory in this, if you want to look into it on your own.

So, bear with me. You have the 4 space-time dimensions as follows:

• (0D: a dot, pre-space)
• 1D is a line (space, y-axis)
• 2D is a square (space, x-axis)
• 3D is a cube (space, z-axis)
• 4D is time (time)

So these, together, are the components of reality, the way cardboard is a component of a box, if that makes sense. They’re subject to physics forces (like gravity), but those forces aren’t a material of the reality, if that makes sense.

Dimensions 5-10 deal in alternate reality.

Consider our reality to be the zero dimension of this new set of dimensions. We are, from everything that we can see, the only point that exists. We are a reality dot.

The fifth dimension is a reality “line.” If you were to turn and look at the dot from a new side, you would see that it has one extra dimension- the fifth dimension. A fifth dimension being would theoretically be able to see its own reality and one other version of their own reality; when you look at a line you can see a line OR if you look at it head on, a dot. So, you could look at your reality, but be able to one slightly different version of it as well.

The sixth dimension is a reality “square.” In this dimension, you are now able to view your own reality, and instead of just the next version of your reality, you can see all other realities that start from your initial dot of reality. This is important: you can ONLY see the realities that begin from the same starting condition as you.

Now, a 6D being should, theoretically, be able to move between those realities, allowing for an approximation of “time travel” at will or “dimension travel” where you could visit alternate realities instead of just seeing them. You couldn’t do this on the 5th dimension because there’s no where to go on a line except the one line. You would likely gain free movement when you add the X-axis dimension.

And since you’ll probably wonder about the rest…. it gets weirder and I’m not sure I can explain them well because they start to include the concept of infinity in ways that are slightly beyond me, so take this with a grain of salt and understand it’s WAY more complex than what I’ve said in any part of this post.

My understanding of 7 and 8 is that they deal in more kinds of alternate realities. Seven I think deals in all alternate realities that belong to YOUR reality, regardless of how they begin. Eight I think deals in alternate realities that are not necessarily your own, but are governed by the same rules as yours (the same kind of physical forces etc, like gravity).

My understanding of 9 and 10 is that 9 deals with infinite alternate realities that may or may not have the same rules of physics as your own, and 10 is basically “everything else, anything goes.”

So when I said earlier that Crowley and Aziraphale may be up to 7D beings in their true forms, I meant that you could choose to think that they, in pure angelic (and possibly full demonic) form, could at least view (if not travel to) any reality that is a version of THEIR reality. Which does beg the question; is this particular reality, with Earth, the only version of their reality in which Earth was created, thus making it important for them to preserve it?

I think future sight might be more like when we try to look into the far distance- the further we go the more difficult it is. Like, you can tell it’s a person wearing red from far away, but that’s it. And it might also be that you can see events directly related to you easier as well. Like how in a crowd you could pick out your friend faster than a stranger from a photograph. It could be Crowley didn’t look into the future but it could also be at that point there were too many fates and looking would have been a waste of time for that event, because he wouldn’t have assumed he needed to…

lyricwritesprose:

operahousebookworm:

hekate1308:

Do you ever wonder about how Crowley-as-Aziraphale is convinced that, even gagged and bound, Aziraphale would still be trying to mouth “Crowley run!” and how Aziraphale-as-Crowley firmly believes that Crowley would just chuck his popsicle across the park and go after the angels to save him despite being hopelessly outnumbered because

My headcanon for this scene is that they’re both genuinely panicking, because this wasn’t the plan.

They realized that Hell would probably decide to get rid of Crowley and that they’d need holy water to do it, so Aziraphale offered to take his place. But Heaven? They send memos. At worst a renegade angel might be cast out, but deep down Aziraphale’s always known that’s a possibility, and part of his choosing to stand with Crowley was accepting that.

They’re in the park to be out in the open and get it over with. But it’s Heaven who shows up first to take “Aziraphale.” So the real Aziraphale freaks out because he hadn’t considered this and doesn’t know what they might do to him. Meanwhile, Crowley wasn’t 100% on board with this plan–he knows that Hell can do a whole lot to a demon short of destruction, and there’s no way he’s going to let Aziraphale get tortured in his place. So he’s freaking out because Hell is still coming and now Crowley is powerless to intervene.

Basically, these two acknowledged that Armageddon would have probably happened if they’d been competent, so I don’t see them planning this perfectly. It all works out–better than they expected, even, because now Crowley can secure Aziraphale’s freedom just as the angel offered to do for him. 

But for just this one moment, it all looks like it’s gone horribly wrong.

It’s an interesting question whether Heaven does in fact just “send rude notes.”  That information comes from Aziraphale.  Aziraphale is not only in the habit of being stiff upper lip about things, he’s a person who has invested an extraordinary amount of mental energy into pretending that Heaven is good and not at all psychologically abusive towards him.  And you watch the way that Gabriel maneuvers Sandalphon behind Aziraphale in the shop—it’s a power play, making Aziraphale turn his back on a known threat.

Still, I believe that they didn’t expect it to go down that way, because I think Heaven is all about the psychological control, and I think their typical move would be to send Aziraphale a summons, demanding that he walk into whatever they planned for him of his own free will.  So the idea that Heaven would just grab “Aziraphale” is shocking to them both.

cheeseanonioncrisps:

One really interesting thing about the church scene is just how Aziraphale reacts when Crowley shows up, especially when compared to the Bastille scene.

I mean, look at his face when he hears Crowley’s voice in France.

He just lights up. Whether you believe he arranged his own arrest with this outcome in mind, or whether you think it was just a lucky coincidence that Crowley happened to be nearby, Aziraphale is clearly thrilled that he’s there.

That is the face of an angel who’s just learned that his immediate future no longer involves his own beheading.

And he doesn’t even hint. We don’t get any of the puppydog eyes he uses to get Crowley to make Hamlet popular or clean the paint off his coat. He’s totally relaxed and at ease during their conversation, he agrees that he’s lucky Crowley was in the area, and then Crowley frees him. He doesn’t have to ask. By this point in their relationship, they’ve clearly reached the stage where the idea that Crowley might not be totally willing to save an angel from discorporation doesn’t even occur to either of them.

And now compare it to Aziraphale’s reaction when Crowley shows up to save him in the Blitz.

It’s basically the same situation. Aziraphale has got himself into a situation where he’s about to be murdered by humans (and for some reason can’t just miracle the problem away) when Crowley shows up to save him.

Except this time, Aziraphale isn’t thrilled. If anything, he sounds rather annoyed. “What are you doing here?” His first assumption is that Crowley must be working with the Nazis, for god’s sake, even though he knows that that isn’t Crowley’s style, and was genuinely shocked a few centuries earlier when he thought that Crowley was admitting to being responsible for the French Revolution. (Crowley is right to be offended.)

But of course, it’s easier for Aziraphale to believe that Crowley is somehow involved with the Nazis, because there has to be some reason why he’s in that church. At this point, Aziraphale honestly finds it easier to believe that Crowley could be working with Nazis than that, after their big argument, Crowley could still be working to protect him.

After all, how familiar do we think Aziraphale is with the concept of forgiveness?

Given the Fall, given the Flood, given humanity’s exile from the Garden.

Given the whole Heaven and Hell set up that he and Crowley’s jobs revolve around, which really depends on the idea that humans cannot repent after death. Aziraphale might be able to redeem some of the humans on Earth, but once they’ve died, if Crowley’s convinced them to commit whatever magical number of sins you have to commit to warrant eternal damnation, then that’s it.

Given the fact that Aziraphale’s own 6,000 years spent living on Earth might well be meant as a punishment for letting the serpent into Eden, because despite its reputation on Earth, Heaven really isn’t as big on the whole ‘love and forgiveness’ thing as everyone seems to think.

Aziraphale lives in a universe where if you mess up, even if you didn’t mean it, even if you regret it right after, then that’s it. So why wouldn’t he apply that to his friendship with Crowley?

Why would it occur to him that you could fall out with somebody and then make up afterwards with no hard feelings? That you could say things, hurtful things, that you didn’t mean— because you were scared and because he wanted holy water and because it was too much and too fast— that you could fall out so badly that you don’t speak to each other for nearly a century and that, after it all, they’d still walk across consecrated ground and bomb a church for you. And even save your books in the aftermath.

And Crowley, it’s worth mentioning, doesn’t even seem to realise this. Crowley is baffled and a little insulted that Aziraphale would even ask why he was there. Obviously he’s keeping his angel out of trouble— isn’t that basically his second job by this point? He’s totally casual about offering Aziraphale a lift home, though I suspect that that might be a conscious decision to deliberately act like everything’s back to normal, so as to signal to Aziraphale that everything is indeed back to normal. Crowley (and we get to see this trait more later on when it comes to the whole Alpha Centauri thing) forgives so easily that he doesn’t even notice he’s doing it.

And that, I think, is why this is such an important moment in their relationship.

It’s not just the rescue of the books that makes Aziraphale realise the true depth of his feelings about Crowley. It’s the fact that, in his own way, Aziraphale considers himself to be just as unforgiveable as Crowley, and Crowley forgave him regardless.

neil-gaiman:

wisteria-lodge:

I didn’t. I didn’t want to be this person. But Aziraphale is sitting RIGHT THERE looking like A TOTALLY RESPECTABLE Roman citizen circa 40 AD. Maybe the hair might be unusual, but the Romans LOVED blonde hair. They thought it was cool and foreign and exotic in sort of a sexy way.

But Crowley isso historically confused. And I think the production design is too good and Neil Gaiman is too on top of his game for this to be accidental. It must mean something. 

I - HAIR

What is on your head Crowley. Are you the emperor? Are you a victorious general currently participating in a victory parade? 

Sure, you sometimes see laurel wreathes in portraits. But FUNERAL portraits.

That crown is a symbolic thing, to celebrate your victories in life. It’s not STREET WEAR. 

And okay. It’s 40-41 AD. Caligula is emperor. Military chic is in. If you’re a guy, you’re wearing your hair short and un-styled (LIKE AZIRAPHALE.) Those dramatic little spit curls wouldn’t show up until at least Nero. 

But actually, pulling back for a second - are you appreciating the absurdity that is this hairstyle? Because it took me a second to notice that only the FRONT HALF is curled.

Whichisa Roman hairstyle. But it’s a Roman LADY hairstyle. 

(It tends to get called ‘Flavian Hair’ because the Flavian era ladies of the 70s-90s got pretty extreme about it, but you still had less… dramatic versions in the 40s.)

That’s you, Crowley. That’s your style reference. Honestly, if you had just kept your hair long everybody would have thought you were a cool barbarian chieftain or something. 

II - CLOTHES

The black is fine. It’s eccentric, but fine. Romans wore black. Wearing black was Cato the Younger’s *thing.* It gets associated with mourning and/or protest, but it would have been really visually confusing to have Crowley wear some other color. This gets a pass.

Nope, my question is about his articles of clothing. There’s a charcoal grey garment that seems to be a toga + undershirt. It’s looped over Crowley’s arm, which is a classic toga give away. 

That part’s fine. But over the top, he’s wearing a true black… short cape? Shawl? it’s really hard to tell, because whatever it is, he is NOT wearing it correctly (is it folded in half?) Also, that irregular red zigzag pattern is very strange and I do not recognize it from anywhere.Seriously, I can’t even decide on a continentfor this garment.

III - JEWELRY

Emperor Nero usually gets credit for inventing the first sunglasses, after he started watching gladiators fight though a green gemstone. He won’t be emperor for about ten years. But hey, he probably got the idea from somewhere.And dark glasses are just a really sensible way to hide your snakey eyes. This is also the first time we see Crowley put up some proper emotional barriers, so it’s a good place for the glasses to be introduced. (@theladyzephyr has a wonderful meta that goes into a lot more detail here.) 

So the sunglasses are good. BUT THAT BROOCH.

Okay. This is Aziraphale wearing a fibula plate brooch

It’s a really Roman style, and a really Roman shape (a “pelta”)

I’ve never seen one that looks like angel wings, but a Roman citizen is going to look at that and see a soppily patriotic Imperial Eagle. How nice that this lovely man from Germania/Greece has made some money and become such an exemplary citizen!

But Crowley is wearing a penannular (pin-and-ring) brooch

That’s not roman. That’s a style from the British Isles (Irish, Pictish, Scottish, Welsh.) It says barbarian, boonies, outskirts of the civilized world. 

And nobody @ me with pictures of pin-and-ring brooches from Rome. Those are small, cheap, and undecorated. They’re the cultural equivalent of safety pins. Thisis patterned like a snake, and it’s the size of Crowley’s palm. 

AND THAT’S ANOTHER THING. They didn’t do snake-themed jewelry in the British isles. Snakes didn’t have the best cultural associations there, and there weren’t too many of them there to begin with. This isn’t something Crowley picked up because “hey, a snake, cool,” and then got attached too. This must have been commissioned special. 

But you know who LOVED snake jewelry? 

ROMANS. 

Romans associated snakes with healing and rebirth - clinics sometimes had lil snakes crawling around on the ground to give the place good vibes. 

You cannot tell me that Crowley could have existed in Rome for any length of time and not picked up some of this jewelry. Which leads me to my conclusion:

IV - CROWLEY IS EXTREMELY NEW IN TOWN

The unfashionable pin and hair? The clothing draped the wrong way? The cultural colorblindness of wearing a laurel crown when you’re not supposed to? Crowley looks like a tacky tourist because he is one. He’s not staying here long, he “just nipped in for a quick temptation.”

He’s in a bad mod because he’s had an awful day, everyone keeps looking at him funny, the temptation was a complete bust, he has culture shock, and now he’s just trying to get a drink. But they don’t have any PROPER drinks like ALE or MEAD here, so he just orders “whatever’s drinkable.” He’s even not sure what they drink in Rome. 

But then Aziraphale shows up and invites him to lunch some place fashionable. So everything’s going to be okay.

Good Omens fandom is the Best Fandom.

fuckyeahisawthat:

Crowley isn’t brave. He’s too smart for that. Only idiot demons aren’t afraid of Hell’s wrath.

Oh, he’s got bravado. He’s got bravado coming out his ears. Being a flash bastard who’s maybe a little too cocky for his own good is a very respectable look for a demon, and Crowley’s great at performing it. But there’s fear underneath. An entirely justified amount of fear, if you ask Crowley.

Crowley’s fantasy of being the maverick bad boy action hero (James Bond, Dirty Harry) who doesn’t play by the rules but wins anyway? That’s his fantasy precisely because in real life he is far too aware of the power structures that surround him and how exactly they can fuck him up if he steps out of line. He doesn’t buy into the ideology at all, but he understands the system of dominance at work, and his position in it, perfectly well.

So Crowley’s strategy is to learn the rules. Learn exactly where the lines are, what you can get away with and what you can’t. He’s like an abused kid who knows that most of the time, his parents couldn’t give a shit what he’s up to, but when they’re around you’d better be on your best behavior or you’ll get hit.

So he learns the way through the minefield, the narrow routes of safe passage. People who live near minefields are extremely attentive to their geography. You had better memorize it, if you want to stay alive. He learns what Hell does and doesn’t care about; where the danger zones are. They couldn’t give a shit about silly, superfluous miracles to make his life easier, and hey, messing with humans for sport is Hell’s national pastime. And they never, ever cross-check the paperwork. (He’s always got a story ready, just in case this is the one time they do.) A little minor healing, a blessing or two on the DL, that doesn’t ping their radar. But stay away from humans when they’re close to death–that’s when both Heaven and Hell are watching, circling like hawks, like vultures.

He meticulously observes the other demons and parses out how to act around them. Hastur and Ligur are violent but they’re morons; he can outsmart them any day. Beelzebub is not a moron and ze has enough power to really make your life unpleasant; deference is recommended. Dagon notices everything–be wary of that one. And he’s good at this social assessment, too. He’s able to ride his minor celebrity status from his dumb good luck with the Eve thing for thousands of years, even though plenty of other demons absolutely fucking resent him for it, because he’s very smart about knowing who he can piss off and who he can’t.

He’s hyperaware of power dynamics and social rules and expectations. It’s part of what makes him such a good chameleon on Earth; he can quickly identify the couple of details that will sell a role and make him seem like he fits. He’s great at working in Earthly dictatorships and surveillance states, because he understands how they think. They don’t watch everyone all the time; they watch some of the people enough of the time to convince you they could be watching at any time, and then let fear do the rest. And there are always back doors, black markets and underground scenes–safe passages–and he’s good at finding them.

When he and Aziraphale are together, he’s the one watching out for both of them. Aziraphale worries about Crowley’s safety, but the angel hasn’t fully internalized how ruthless his own side can be. Crowley knows. He learned that minefield too, the hard way.

(Of course, they both think the other one is the brave one, and you can see it in their trials. Aziraphale-as-Crowley is cool as a cucumber, playing the badass Crowley wishes he was. And Crowley-as-Aziraphale is gracious and self-possessed in the face of Heaven’s utter contempt for him, but also not afraid to scare them a little.)

As survival strategies go, Crowley’s has mostly worked out for him. (The proof is in the not-being-a-pulverized-pudding-in-Hell’s-deepest-pit isn’t it?) But like any emergency response, it can become maladaptive in non-emergency conditions, and after the Apocanope, the hardest thing to unpack is not just the bog-standard hypervigilance (are we safe? are we really safe?) but this kind of paranoid hyper-self-awareness of his own outward presentation that manifests itself in all kinds of ways (am I doing it right? is this the safe way? is this a performance, or who I really am? do I even know who I really am?). And, as much as he desperately, wholeheartedly wants to be with Aziraphale, I think it will take him a long time to fully realize that for the first time maybe in his entire existence, he doesn’t have to worry about the route of safe passage through a minefield of social interaction, where he’s one step away from doing the wrong thing at any time. There isn’t any route of safe passage with Aziraphale. Because there aren’t any mines.

fuckyeahisawthat:

This may, possibly, be my favorite scene in the entire series. Because I know it’s played for comedy, and Tennant really hams it up, but like many things in Good Omens it’s a well-executed joke covering up something much deeper. And once you take off the comedy veneer it’s incredibly sad.

The thing is, it’s so out of character for what we know about Crowley at this point. For all his “ooh, I’m a DEMON, I’m not NICE, I’m BAD,” his brand of “evil” is mostly mischief, minor annoyance and a little chaos. It’s giving the paintballers real guns but not letting any of them kill each other, because, quote, “that wouldn’t be any fun.” And while he can be scary in a pinch and violent when he needs to be, he’s not cruel. What is he even doing in this scene? He’s not performing his demon-ness to impress anyone here. He’s in his house, alone, yelling at plants, which–the magic of cinema has somehow been able to convey to us–are afraid of him.

Exercising total power over things that can’t fight back, exacting disproportionate, irreversible punishments for minor failings that maybe aren’t even their fault…that doesn’t sounds like Crowley, does it?

Gee, who in this story does it sound like? Oh right. Those are things God does. Those are things God did to Crowley.

And what does God herself say about Crowley’s plant terrorizing, when narrating this scene to us? “What he does is put the fear of God into them.”

I mean, on an existential level, the idea of Crowley playing God with his plants when God is an actual character narrating this scene to us is hilarious. But also…Crowley, my demon, please get a therapist.

This was the scene that really fucked me up when I first watched it. On second watch, I found the bandstand really hurt, but the first time around, this one hurt more. Because it’s so obvious what he’s doing, what he’s re-enacting there, and there’s God, bemusedly and detachedly narrating it. Just, ouch.

acrownforaking:

tbh both of these lines hit me like freight trains so I don’t think I could have physically handled an “I love you” moment anyway

they don’t say it, but they show it, over and over and over again

i’m content with that. I don’t feel cheated in the slightest.

Content with it doesn’t even begin to cover it for me. I’m grateful. It’s so much better as it is. “You go too fast for me” or “to the world” (especially given the way he says those lines) knock “I love you” right out of the park.

Before Good Omens happened to me, I was in the place of accepting that love stories aren’t meant for me. I never liked the romantic side arcs in movies or shows or books really. I could never get behind it, nothing ever clicked. It felt superficial. Hollow. Formulaic.

A lot of media is very bad at show not tell when it comes to relationships, especially the romantic ones. How often do you see characters hardly interacting, and then they suddenly kiss and say “I love you” and get married at the end of the tale? It leaves me sitting and scratching my head and wondering what happened. This way of showing relationships depends on us to see characters kissing, holding hands or saying their I love you’s and believing it without questions. It asks us to fill in the blanks. They kissed, it’s love, look at the cute ship.

But that doesn’t work for me. It makes “I love you” seem like empty words. Quickly said, quickly voided after, because there wasn’t much substance behind them.

Good Omens on the other hand is super show not tell about it. Through the entire timeline, from Eden on, in every single scene they’re in together, we can watch them grow closer. We watch them become friends, and by the time of the Globe scene, they’re just radiating fondness for one another. Their looks, their actions, it’s so obvious even without looking at a single line of dialogue. Just look at how Aziraphale’s entire face lights up at Crowley’s appearance in Paris, or the way Crowley looks after Aziraphale when he miracled the stain off his coat. Or, in what’s arguably their worst moment, look at Aziraphale’s face when he tells Crowley it’s over at the bandstand. He’s so close to crying. Look at that quivering lip and shining eyes. He’s hurting himself at least as much as Crowley.

And if you do look at the dialogue, you get so much weighty confessions of love, friendship, devotion, concern, care.

You get “you go too fast for me”. It’s a line I find more powerful with every rewatch, because there’s so much behind it. It’s not a rejection. Not at all. It’s “I need time”. It’s “I’m not ready now, it’s too much for me at this time, but I’ll be ready for it. I’ll get there. I want to get there.” It’s “please wait”. It’s “be patient with me”. I think it’s something that needs a lot of courage and trust to say, too. It’s not something you’re usually told is okay to ask for, but it’s such an important thing to feel like you can ask.

You get, a moment before, “I’ll give you a lift, anywhere you want to go”. This is the line that stood out to me more on my first watch of it. It’s an unconditional offer, and the way it’s said, you get the feeling that if Aziraphale asked to be driven to, say, Australia right then and there, Crowley would have dropped everything else and done it. This is “I’ll go anywhere, with you. I’ll do whatever you need of me, for you.” And he says it again, drunk and still not entirely over his grief in that bar. “Where are you? I’ll come to you, wherever you are.” “Wherever you are is where I want to be. Where I will be”. It’s a promise.

You get “We can go off together”. How much louder can you shout it, really? This is Crowley saying “you’re the one thing in this entire world I will pick to save if I can’t save anything else”.

You get Aziraphale’s “I forgive you”, right after Crowley tried to talk him into running off again and called him stupid. I think it’s not Aziraphale forgiving Crowley for calling him stupid. It’s Aziraphale referring to their previous conversation, to Crowley’s “Unforgivable, that’s what I am”. This is, even before Aziraphale gives up on Heaven (he still clings to hope at this point), this is Aziraphale saying “I don’t care if God condemned you, because I don’t. I forgive you.”

And “To the World” has to be the best of them all. To the World, to the world Crowley entire gave up on when he thought Aziraphale was dead, to the world they lived in together for six thousand years, to the world that’s the only place either of them fits in and the only place they can enjoy together.

No, “I love you” can stay right out of this. It’s been said a hundred times over, with looks, with actions, and with lots of better words.

krakensdottir:

whispsofwind:

finleycannotdraw:

kitcat-italica:

Valid take: Crowley fell in love with Aziraphale since he said he gave away the flaming sword, and has been holding out for that love ever since.

Also valid take, but less talked about: Crowley slowly fell in love with Aziraphale over the millennia, the same way Aziraphale did. Maybe with sliiiiightly more awareness of what was happening, because he doesn’t have as much repression and denial to wade through. But it still caught up with him unawares.

Hottest of hot takes that my brain won’t stop screaming about: the full force of Crowley’s feelings didn’t barrel into him like a flaming Bentley until Aziraphale gives him the holy water. That’s when it’s pedal-to-the-metal, no-stopping-this-beating-heart, holy shit I love him and he loves me, that’s what this has been this whole time.

Which means….AZIRAPHALE HAD HIS OH SHIT MOMENT….BEFORE CROWLEY

!!!!!!!!!!!

ANOTHER TAKE I SAW RECENTLY AND COULDNT GET OUT OF MY HEAD was that Crowley fell in love with Aziraphale at the wall of Eden, but he didn’t realize it until the BOOKSHOP FIRE

Which… makes sense because of the music changing from You’re My Best Friend toSOMEBODY TO LOVE.

So yeah, he was totally pining the entire time, and it was probably agony, but he didn’t know what he wanted that he didn’t already have.… until he thought it had been taken away for good.

That would imply Crowley had yet to realise it when they were with Warlock. In this scenario he thinks Aziraphale is his Best Friend, right?

Cue Nanny being quite worried when Warlock begins school, because surely 6 years old Warlock is way too young to have that kind of intense relationship

See, I don’t think Crowley has a hard distinction between friendship and romance. Like. How much basis for comparison could he possibly have? To him it’s just one long increasingly intense stream of emotional attachment, which begins when the angel proves just how different he is.

But it’s hard to pinpoint exactly when anything shifts, partly because there are so many gaps in their onscreen history. Like, for my money, he’s showing full-on affection and is at least somewhat smitten by the time they’re at the Globe, but there’s such a gap before then, it could have happened any time in the last several centuries. But there are definitely romantic overtones by then. He’s just so damn weak to those puppy-dog eyes.

As to when he realizes it, that’s a whole other question. But personally… again, I don’t think there was actually a big ‘aha!’ moment for Crowley. I’m inclined to think that epiphanies are more Aziraphale’s thing, and that Crowley’s been low-key aware of how he feels for a long time. Like after he saves the books, he ducks his head and avoids eye contact before walking away. I think he’s well aware of the gesture he’s making there.

There is a huge impact to the holy water scene, though. Because I think - just my theory - that’s when Crowley realizes Aziraphale loves him back just as intensely. Az has always been so reserved about their relationship, keeping a distance, using euphemistic language, and rarely making the big leaps forward; it’s almost always Crowley making a move. And yet here he is choosing to give Crowley this immense gift, out of sheer concern for his well-being, in the most personal way possible (a fucking tartan thermos), before dropping that absolutely LOADED line. Yeah. I think that’s when it hits Crowley that his feelings might actually be reciprocated.

A clear distinction between friendship and romance might not be sensible to a being of an inherently sexless species. Even if they can feel a human-like sexual attraction because of their human-ish bodies (which I’m not sold on at all), it’s probably not an instinct that comes to them naturally. They are clearly naturally affectionate, aka do form friendship bonds (at Eden they’re both still fairly uninfluenced by humanity, haven’t been incorporated long and both clearly show signs of liking each other one way or another), but does the distinction humans make make sense? What is a romantic relationship if you take away sexual desires and expressions of affection? People make it sound like friendship isn’t love. But it is. You love your friends, and you especially love your best friend. People who say a best friendship isn’t as close and intense as a romantic relationship might not actually have had a real best friend before.

But I want to make a point aside of frustration with our society’s looking down on friendships, and that point is that both “friendship” and “romance” are human labels, and what is considered appropriate under either of those labels has been changing alot in just the last couple of centuries of human history. Crowley and Aziraphale have been around for all this time.

Romantic relationships were not always the most intellectually and emotionally intimate relationship for people to have. For a long time, marriages were formed not by affection, but primarily by political and financial concerns. To make sure there were heirs, to combine two farms or kingdoms, that sort of thing. You could hope to get along well with your spouse, and some spouses certainly grew to love one another, but marriage was often a bond made for practical considerations, rather than emotional ones. If you were a king or duke or whatnot, you might have an affair with someone you loved. The normal peasant couldn’t afford that sort of thing in the long run. Lots of trouble. Friendships and familial relationships like those between siblings were what you got your closeness and support from, either instead of or in addition to your marriage.

For a long while, people romantised friendships the way today’s culture romantises romance. Have you ever read epic Irish folk tales, stories of blood brothers and what we today would probably describe as platonic soulmates? Or for example the late 19th century novels of German author Karl May, full of characters in life-long best friendships that today’s readers will interpret more as queerplatonic partnerships or as homoerotic subtext, depending on how they squint at the text? Or the full blown love letters adressed to friends they found from the 17th to 19th century? At this time, in Western culture the concept of a “romantic friendship” came up, a relationship type that some researchers think has existed before, but then became more visible, because romantic relationships (the modern interpretation of them) came more into focus and especially physical affection between friends started to be considered weird (a trend that ended in what we have today).

Today, if you want to cuddle a best friend or hold their hand or share a house and a life with them, you’ll have to negotiate the relationship terms, because right now these things are monopolised by romantic relationships. That was not always the case, and it’s probably worth noting that it isn’t actually very healthy for humans to live that way. We’re capable of lots of different loving bonds and to limit emotional intimacy to one type of them might be one reason we have things like today’s loneliness epidemic going on.

But the point was historical relationship types.

Some of these historic close friendships were certainly homosexual partnerships hidden in more or less plain sight, but that doesn’t change that for centuries, it was quite normal to be a lot more affectionate and emotionally open about your close friendships. Crowley and Aziraphale casually reference events from hundreds of years ago. Time means little to angels and demons. The by comparison rapid changing of human relationship labels must be all sorts of confusing.

Is it surprising that Crowley doesn’t have a clear distinction? Or, that he chooses to call his attachment to Aziraphale “best friend”? It’s the much more long standing term for what they have. Angels/demons seem to naturally form friendships, so it’s probably a concept he was familiar with already (there were probably friendships between angels in Heaven before the Fall). And as a being to whom human-ish attraction of a more sexual nature might well not come naturally, he’s stuck observing humans and their relationships to make sense of the terms they use. Now, especially considering the history, observe a close knit friendship and a romantic relationship. What’s the difference? It’s not the emotional closeness. It’s more like the physical expression (kissing, sex).

Crowley and Aziraphale don’t kiss and have sex. At least not on screen. Whether or not they will do so after Armageddon isn’t relevant to the time during the series. Crowley looks at his relationship with Aziraphale, and goes “yes, he’s the most important being in my life, I’d do anything for him, he knows me best out of everyone in existence, even if the whole world ends in a puddle of burning goo, he’s what I’ll try to save, without him my life is meaningless, but we don’t kiss and don’t fuck” and concludes “best friends!” It makes sense, doesn’t it?

Excuse me for rambling. The above points aside, I do agree that Crowley grows to love Aziraphale slowly and over time, but is definitely at a near present day level of affection for him at the globe. He’s looking at him so fondly, and yes, so weak for the puppy eyes. (Which isn’t necessarily a romantic thing either; I’m super weak for puppy eyes from my sister and my best friend, and reasonably weak for it from other friends, so weakness to manipulation by puppy eyes is probably individually different and Crowley might just have a bad case of it.)

But I’ll buy Crowley being in love one way or another at the globe, and the thermos being his moment of “wow, he likes me back”.

ileolai:

Today I’m having a lot of feelings about. ok. Aziraphale knew there was a demon causing a big ruckus in the Garden. and the very FIRST thing he does is. give his only means of self defense away!!! like

all he knows about demons at that point is what Heaven has told him. and he’s quite certain they’re irredeemably Evil and possibly out to settle a score from the War. and he. he’s not just being nice to the humans. he’s potentially risking his own life for them. he just. does that. immediately

and then said demon waltzes up to him and starts blabbering on about the moon and acting precious about getting damp idkgjfg

like i imagine if Crowley hadn’t shut him up his next words to Anathema would have been like. ‘’…and technically I was supposed to plunge a flaming sword into his head. but well, anyway. he was yammering some nonsense about meta-ethics and the moon and he hates it when his toes get wet, it’s adorable. we’re married now.’’ they’re so absurd 

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@tabbystardustreply: And also when the demon asks about his sword he just tells him he gave it away instead of lying like he LIED TO GOD what a disaster angel gotta love him

@ileolaireply: lmao right and like. no wonder crowley immediately splashed his pants over it. first day on the job and this angel is off his chain. he’s fucking mental. he lets humans raid the no-no tree and gives them free weapons for their trouble. immediately blurts out what he did to the Enemy but lies to the boss’s face about it. That’s more Nonsense than Crowley managed to cause in five minutes and causing Nonsense is his job

joan-daardvark:

It occurred to me that while I am taking for granted the fact that the three main couples in Good Omens are mirroring each other, a lot of people actually don’t know about it. So I decided to make a post gathering all the details on the matter that I could find in the show. 

This meta was partly inspired by this postby@nitocrisss​ (I had this idea and couldn’t motivate myself to actually write it but your post helped a lot. Wahoo! :))

So, the theory is that Aziraphale-Anathema-Sergeant Shadwell on the one hand and, respectively, Crowley-Newt-Madame Tracy on the other are the characters that serve as each other’s mirrors in terms of their narrative arcs and, as we’ll see, even some aesthetics.

The first group of characters that I’m going to talk about are Aziraphale, Anathema and Sergeant Shadwell. How are they similar?

First of all, all of their lives are somehow connected to the Book and, in Aziraphale’s and Anathema’s case, to a woman speaking through it. For Aziraphale it’s the Bible and God; for Anathema, it’s the Nice and Accurate Prophecies and Agnes Nutter; for Shadwell, well, it’s not as straightforward, but he says that a witchfinder should have a book (the Bible, I assume) with him at all times, right? Anyway, their lives are driven by a very strict set of rules and The Higher Purpose, which they can’t disobey. Aziraphale can’t fail God’s plan:

Anathema can’t fail Agnes and is destined to stop the Apocalypse:

Anathema’s life is connected to prophecies and, as we know, collecting book of prophecy is Aziraphale’s greatest passion. Just like Aziraphale tries to contact God at a certain point, Anathema is talking about Agnes as if the latter one is alive and is still “consulting” her. Also, when she looses the book, she’s calling her mother via Skype.

Meanwhile Shadwell is fighting non-existent witches and, quite importantly:

Keep reading

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@ouidamforeman​reply: In the book Crowley/Aziraphale and Newt/Anathema also have these little scenes:

And these:

Which I noticed on my reread and thought were very cute

@moveslikebucky​comment: Just to add to your book connection - in the novel Shadwell has a dream where Agnes yells at him.  I don’t remember the full details and I’m at work so can’t look them up but if you’d like I’ll find that bit when I get home ^_^

@joan-daardvark​reply: I checked the book and found an addition suggested by @moveslikebucky (thank you!) It’s an excerpt from Shadwell’s dream where he witnesses the execution of Agnes Nutter. As we see, she also communicated with him:

A witch, thinks Shadwell. They’re burning a witch. It gives him a warm feeling. That was the right and proper way of things. That’s how things were meant to be. Only … She looks directly up at him now, and says “That goes for yowe as welle, yowe daft old foole.” Only she is going to die. She is going to burn to death. And, Shadwell realizes in his dream, it is a horrible way to die. The flames lick higher. And the woman looks up. She is staring straight at him, invisible though he is. And she is smiling. And then it all goes boom.

Also, the book that Shadwell gave Newt for his mission in Tadfield was Prayers for Little Hands.