Looks Like Wild Woozles Have Nibbled The Mohair Off This Jumper To Make Nests For Their Young. So Kind

I really deeply appreciate the storytelling craft that has gone into ensuring that David Tennant is the Doctor forever, and can appear at any time without requiring weird timeline shenanigans. This is fan service, yes, but I'm certain the #1 fan this is servicing is in fact David Tennant.

Today it's time for me to be heartbroken about Crowley and HIS version of events, because of course HIS version makes sense to him too.

The thing about Crowley is, he acts so nonchalant about everything.

Like, at first, he's simply just a demon. Sauntered vaguely downward and such, it's barely even really a thing, honestly -- it's just sort of his job title, y'know? Aziraphale's in one department, he's in another, that's just how it is. Like satanists, right?

But then the more the story progresses, the more we get the sense that there's something deeper than that. It becomes especially apparent with his plants, and how he puts the fear of God (then corrected by the narrator: the fear of Crowley) in them.

And these scenes, as many of you well know, have been theorized to be Crowley working through the circumstances of his fall. Projecting his emotions onto the plants, inflicting on them what was done to him. Processing what it was like to be on the other side of the curtain, maybe -- possibly try to figure out what could drive a creator to harm their own creations.

The details of the fall and what Crowley did, exactly, are unclear. The details of what Crowley knows about his own fall are unclear, because evidence could suggest that maybe he doesn't remember. But his perception seems to be that it didn't take much to be a demon.

What he does know, is that nothing lasts forever -- not even the grace of God.

But Aziraphale is different.

Aziraphale is an angel with very black-and-white ideas of what it means to be an angel, and what it means to be a demon.

But Crowley sees through it. From giving away the sword alone, he sees the cracks in Aziraphale's rigid thinking that allows the light to shine through. And he chips and he chips at that thinking -- he asks the kind of questions that probably made him fall in the first place -- until finally we get here.

God saw Crowley at his most innocent. God saw Crowley at his most joyful state of being. God saw him at his holiest.

God heard his questions, likely knowing that Crowley was expressing love in the way that he would want to receive it. Crowley says, "Well, if I was the one running it all, I would like it if someone asked questions. Fresh point of view."

God knew all of this, and then cast him out anyway. Unforgivable, that's what he is. Not to be forgiven, ever. Not to be loved -- not by God.

Then here comes along this angel (who he may or may not remember). This angel knows he's a demon, and talks to him anyway. This angel knows he's a demon, and listens to what he has to say. This angel knows he's a demon, and still looks him in the eye, sees the good in him, and forcefully tells him that HE still sees the good in him, even when God refuses to.

Aziraphale sees everything in Crowley that God could not, and that is something Crowley thought was lost forever.

So it only makes sense that when Aziraphale first burst in with his words all aflutter at the idea that they were going to go back to Heaven and change everything, Crowley felt this was something they couldn't do. Because he understands better than anyone, Heaven has the power to change the angel, the angel does not have the power to change Heaven.

It makes sense that Crowley gave him a chance. Crowley didn't exactly erupt with rage at Aziraphale. Yes, he was loudly against the idea and very disappointed, but then he goes, "Oh. Oh God. Right. Okay. I didn't get a chance to say what I was going to say, I better say it now."

He still thinks there's a chance. He's still giving Aziraphale a chance to back out.

He gives Aziraphale multiple chances. And every time Aziraphale will not back down. Every time, he thinks he hears the same message. The one he's always heard, the one he should know by now but somehow still hopes it isn't true.

Nothing lasts forever.

Not the universal star machine.

Not the grace of God.

Not the bookshop.

Not my acceptance of who you are.

Not us.

He doesn't hear the way Aziraphale remembers his joy and wants him to be happy. He doesn't hear how Aziraphale wants him and needs him and begs for him to be on his side. He doesn't hear the hope and the desire to be safe and together and in control -- forever.

He doesn't hear the way Aziraphale is lying to himself because we all know damn well he would live in a state of comfortable happiness if he could.

Instead, he hears this.

He hears that he is in need of forgiveness. He hears that he has done something to warrant it.

Only, he is unforgivable. Nothing lasts forever, but maybe that part does. Out of everything that never lasted, the one that did is that he is unforgivable the way that he is.

"Don't bother," he says.

Don't bother, because he doesn't hear Aziraphale, he hears God.

Don't bother, because maybe God was right.

Oh, I love this! And somehow "They always build a snowman when it snows" is the sweetest little detail of them all.

So what if

Jesus decides he’d rather drink in the pub with Crowley instead of judging anyone.

Zombies get too busy dancing in Michael Jackson’s thriller and so find their new purpose that makes them happy.

God doesn’t even know what’s going on, too busy having dumbass fights with Satan.

Aziraphale comes back to Earth because he gets fired, Crowley wants to know why, and Aziraphale pretends it’s because he tried to thwart the big plan, but actually, it’s because he spent all his time drawing Crowley instead of doing boring paperwork. They also found him with his mouth full of cake.

Crowley knows. He laughs inside.

Metatron tries to start Armageddon but literally nobody is interested because they were invited to Beelzebub&Gabriel wedding and the preparations make Angels and Demons busy.

Aziraphale and Crowley are too busy bidding on a cottage. They don’t tell each other. So they’re bidding on the same one. So when Aziraphale wins he has to sell all the buildings he owns in Soho because Crowley bid so high, and Aziraphale failed to give up, that the cottage was sold for 10 times what it was worth.

Crowley bursts out laughing when Aziraphale takes him to see the surprise. When he explains he was the other bidder, they finally promise each other to not hide things from each other again.

They go to Beelzebub&Gabriel wedding. Angels and Demons dance together. Nobody cares. Everyone is happy. Metatron sits in the corner.

Crowley is there for alcohol. Aziraphale is there for cake. They finally recreate their dance.

Aziraphale watches Crowley who’s tipsy enough to start dancing with Beelzebub. Demons can dance. Crowley is really hot.

They take a walk outside to cool down, for different reasons, and when they sit by the lake, stars shining above them, Aziraphale pops the question.

Crowley grins. He says of course. Not in a bloody church though.

Not in a church, they agree.

God and Satan and Jesus are invited to their wedding. They get absolutely shitfaced. It’s the funniest and most loveable wedding the world has ever seen.

Honeymoon in Alpha Centauri. Also Maldives. Also everywhere where they’ve met over the 6 thousand years. This time not needing to hide or worry or pretend.

They celebrate everything.

They renovate their cottage and Aziraphale discovers Crowley is very DIY and he doesn’t mind at all seeing him dirty and sweaty without a T-shirt. Sometimes he breaks things on purpose.

Crowley knows.

Bentley has her garage. She’s very happy.

The cottage is yellow. Of course.

Christmas Tree has a star on top of it.

Their garden wins all the village awards.

Their baking is talked about by everyone.

Aziraphale has a huge library at home and he doesn’t need to worry about anyone taking his books anymore.

Crowley has plants all over the house and he doesn’t need to scream at them anymore because they’re growing beautifully from the pure love and happiness at home.

He takes care of the garden and Bentley. He buys another car and works on it as his hobby.

They join car shows.

They know all little cafes and restaurants everywhere.

Aziraphale writes his own novel. It’s really good. Crowley just ensures it definitely is talked about everywhere.

They visit Soho whenever they feel like shopping.

They always build a snowman when it snows.

And they spend evenings either on a date, on holiday, or in front of the cracking fire, within comfortable blankets and pillows, drinking, snacking, reading, watching movies and their favourite tv shows.

Everything is perfect.

He was helping with The TARDIS maintenance and fell asleep. Probably to the music he's listening

something about those little moments in s2ep3 with crowley alone in the bookshop while aziraphale is in scotland. I watched them all as a single sequence and it's just... SO MUCH.

look. the fact that crowley is cool as a cucumber when aziraphale is around, but when he isn't... well. there's the deep, deep breath he takes while he watches azi drive away, and i can't tell if he's more scared of being alone with gabriel or worried about azi going away alone. because as someone pointed out, aziraphale gets the car keys right after muriel arrives, and obviously it's safer for him to take the bentley which will hopefully keep him safe as it usually keeps crowley safe; but at the same time, crowley has to give up what's basically an extension of him, the one protection he has ready, to shield himself or to run away with, should anything happen while the guardian of the eastern gate aziraphale isn't there.

and then crowley is alone, without aziraphale, without his comfort car, stranded in his favorite place which has ceased being safe and has become instead somewhat inhospitable because his mortal enemy now lives here too. and the way he's wearing no jacket, no waistcoat, and he's just so thin, and snake-like, especially standing there near gabriel, who is built like a tank and you just know that if he's right, if by any chance gabriel became hostile, even in a non-magic fight crowley wouldn't stand a chance.

and yet, AND YET, he's quietly explaining gravity to him, then trying (and failing) to make Maggie and Nina vavoom and also explaining THAT to jim (azi didn't stop to hear his very romantic plan so at least maybe does jim? Can I hear a fucking wahoo?!), and you can't help but feel how badly he needs to talk to someone, anyone nonhuman around who isn't immediately outright hostile, without censoring himself, without complicated feelings in between.

and then, the exact moment later, the temporary peace is broken by gabriel himself remembering something ominous and ONE MOMENT LATER YET shax is outside, complete with background screaming chorus, and then crowley is desperately trying to convince her they don't know where the archangel is, still playing cool but swallowing like that, and then she says Hell will declare war and he's just thrown for a moment and says "to me?!" in THAT voice! but it's even worse than that, because they'll actually declare war not on him but on his friend, and he could maybe cope with hell wanting his scalp (again) but Aziraphale's?! And then STILL keeping that facade and telling her that anyway the angel is inside in the basement, because he knows that Aziraphale is safe while he's inside the bookshop, and therefore trying to keep her off Aziraphale's back while he's outside and alone? Which btw doesn't work because she somehow knows anyway and proceeds on harassing the angel in the bentley the very next time we see him?! AND at the same time he's trying to keep her from realizing he is all alone, here, in the bookshop?!?

And he's been flippant throughout, but the moment she leaves he's like, wreaked?! And his first instinct is of course to go back at being mad and threatening at Jim, but even that feels pointless, because the machine is already in motion, and it's always too late, it's "we're doomed" all over again, isn't it? and the fact that he's shaking all over as he comes to this conclusion?

and then we learn that he hasn't slept all night after this, and as soon as Aziraphale is finally back he's immediately out as if he'd been looking out the window all night waiting for him to be back home safe, and for his car to be available for him to finally feel safe into, and i've seen people wonder why he bolts the fuck out of there as soon as azi is back as if he didn't need a breather after all he's been through, AND THE FACT THAT LATER ON HE TELLS AZIRAPHALE CaN I WaTcH AS IF HE'S AT ALL INTERESTED IN HIM RUNNING ERRANDS ACROSS ALL OF SOHO AND NOT IN FACT UNABLE TO LEAVE AZIRAPHALE'S SIDE NOW THAT HE'S FINALLY BACK AFTER A FULL DAY AWAY DURING WHICH HELL IS APPARENTLY ABOUT TO DECLARE WAR TO HIM SPECIFICALLY WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK

anyway what i want to say is this sequence is the epitome of anxiety and claustrophoby for me, and it plays like a horror movie. It's just A Lot

Same here. It's funny and lovely - and somehow different from the whole lot of other funny/lovely funart.

A pre-show commission from Thoughtbubble 2019

A Nightingale Sang in 1941

This is my inaugural meta (yay!) Eventually I will learn how to add gifs and whatnot to make this more interesting but today, I give you a wall of text.

I need to give credit where credit is due to three existing metas that I’m drawing upon heavily here:

A speculative continuation of the 1941 story, which includes an almost-kiss while “A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square” plays on the gramophone,

A behavioral analysis of Aziraphale during the S2E6 finale (will find ref later if possible)

A meta-analysis of the way in which “coffee” is used as a symbolic equivalent for liberty and freedom of choice, a running theme of this show (will find ref later if possible)

I’m going to expand upon meta #2 and #3 and explain why I think there is are very compelling reasons to believe that #1 will be canonized.

At the end of S1E6, an instrumental version of “A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square” plays diegetically, but the lyrical version plays non-diegetically over the credits (we hear it but the protagonists don’t). So we the audience could plausibly say “that’s their song,” but as of the close of S1, we have no reason to believe that they know that it’s their song. Even Aziraphale’s S1E3 (1967) suggestion that they dine at the Ritz could be a reference that only he gets, or just a fancy restaurant suggestion.

So when I was watching S2E6 and Crowley said “no nightingales,” I was jarred. What does that even mean? We know it has something to do with dining at the Ritz, but what does it mean to them? The reference only works if they know it’s their song. But we’ve only ever seen them hear it together after the averted apocalypse; if this is the direct reference that Crowley is making, it leaves our 1967 reference contextless and twisting in the wind.

If we assume that there was a romantic story beat in 1941, wherein “A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square” (which, incidentally, was written in 1939 and saw the height of its popularity at the end of 1940, so timeline-wise it’s spot-on) became their song, then a lot of events get renewed interpretations through this lens, in a way that makes this story much more cohesive and the “no nightingales” comment even more soul-shattering than it already was.

Let’s presume that immediately after this became their song and just as they were discovering their romantic potential, they were forced back into hiding. Forever after, references to the song serve as a macro for “I’d like to pick up where we left off that night.”

The 1967 suggestion of “dining at the Ritz” now becomes a directly romantic suggestion. It also gives better context for “you go too fast for me.”

Actually going to the Ritz in 2019 is not simply a celebration or even a callback to 1967, it’s a callback to their almost-romance of 1941.

When Crowley says “no nightingales” in 2023, this isn’t to say “we’re not going to eat together at the Ritz anymore.” It’s saying that the romance that began that night, the precious, fragile romance, is over.

I’ll give you a moment to dry your eyes before we move on to metas #2 and #3.

In light that this is what has been going on - they know they want a romantic relationship but have gotten so used to hiding and denying it that they are more comfortable keeping the status quo static and quo-y then trying to achieve their ideal - a lot of S2 behavior can get a fresh view.

Crowley’s reaction to Nina isn’t a realization that he’s in love - he knew that already. You can only ask someone to run away with you so many times before you are forced to admit some things to yourself. No, he’s realizing that trying to hide it (which was justified by survival), hasn’t been working, but despite failing at being stealth nothing bad has happened. He’s realizing that it may finally be safe to show it.

Crowley’s confession, then, is not a revelation. It’s making the subtext text. He’s not telling Aziraphale anything he didn’t already know. He’s saying it now because he thinks he’s safe to do so. Pin in that.

Lots of people have lots of theories about Aziraphale’s motivations in the S2 finale, which can more or less be divided into 4 camps: the genuinely held belief, the coffee theory, the lie theory, and the mutual trick theory (some version of the body-switching at the end of S1). Let me start by saying that I love all the fans and all their theories and I find their analyses to be insightful. The genuinely held belief theory, while I believe it to be erroneous, has been incredibly conducive to so many wonderful conversations and I love being in a community that has those conversations. But I’m going to explain why I think the lie theory finds the most support in canon.

Re-watch the finale (when you feel like you can) from 35:18 to 36:19 and then from 40:45 to the end, paying very close attention to Aziraphale’s words and his eyes. Michael Sheen is telling us a LOT with his eyes, and in the back half of the finale scene, with pacing.

For 60 seconds of footage, this setup is doing a lot of work. If Neil Gaiman wasn’t doing enough to beat us over the head with how evil the Metatron is, that glare at Crowley at the end with the non-diegetic ominous horns should convey the message. But again, focusing on Aziraphale. He initially refuses to talk to the Metatron; he’s made his position quite clear. There is no hint of regret or wavering; this is not someone who’s aching to return to the fold. The Metatron ignores his refusal and functionally forces him to accept a “cup of coffee.” The coffee isn’t spiked, but it is a metaphor. It is symbolic of choice. The Metatron is going to force Aziraphale to make a choice. Meta #3 does a great job of exploring the idea that a choice between anything and death is never really a choice. Hang onto that thought.

Notice I had you start up again 3 seconds before “The Conversation.” That’s because it’s important to note where the Metatron is right now. He is across the street, staring straight in through those giant windows to where our protagonists are about to have The Conversation. He is watching.

When Aziraphale returns, Crowley begins his “let me talk” riff. Aziraphale ought to be interested in what Crowley has to say, since the preamble is pretty compelling. You’ll notice that Aziraphale quickly turns to the window and back, through which he (but not we) can see the Metatron standing there, watching them. Aziraphale is then doing his best to get Crowley to STFU without raising the suspicion of the Metatron, eventually having to cut him off.

Because unfortunately, Crowley’s entire impetus for speaking up now is that it’s safe to do so. Only Aziraphale knows that they are in very real danger (or at least, Crowley is, but I’ll come back to that).

You might take something from the fact that he’s shaking his head while talking about “incredibly good news,” and seems to self-censor his criticism of Metatron (or more specifically, he takes ownership of any criticism of the Metatron, censoring out Crowley’s role in that, with the emphasis on I in “I might have misjudged him”).

Notice in the flashback that he begins the conversation reasonably relaxed. The Metatron also says a series of things about him that not only are false, but everyone, including the Metatron and Crowley, know are false: Aziraphale is not a leader, he’s a defector; he’s not honest, he lies all the time, in fact this entire season revolved around his one huge lie of hiding Gabriel. Not only does the justification not make sense coming from Metatron, but it shouldn’t make sense that Aziraphale would accept these reasons and it shouldn’t make sense to Crowley either. So is Aziraphale including these details in his recounting to Crowley so that he will get suspicious and figure out the jig? Maybe. Let’s continue.

Immediately upon being offered the job of Supreme Archangel, Aziraphale says “but I don’t want to go back to Heaven.” This is direct evidence against the genuinely held belief theory. If returning to Heaven and making a difference was a genuine motivation, we would have gotten a different response at this moment. But then we get something more.

“Where would I get my coffee?”

This is a beautiful response for a number of reasons; coffee should be trivial compared to the opportunity to be a Supreme Archangel, so it serves to highlight just how little interest Aziraphale has in returning. Taken at face value, it’s the Aziraphale equivalent of “not even at gunpoint.” But remember that coffee is a metaphor for liberty in this universe and this season. So what Aziraphale just said, in the language of Neil Gaiman metaphors, is:

I don’t want to go back to Heaven, I would rather have free will.

What does the Metatron do next?

He brings up Crowley.

Watch Aziraphale’s eyes before and after the mention of Crowley. He goes from confused to eye-flicking panic in the space of two syllables. Aziraphale already understands that his “no” is not being accepted, and that bringing Crowley into it can only possibly serve as a threat.

So the coffee, the choice, is a false choice. No one ever orders death. The Metatron has forced Aziraphale into a situation that looks an awful lot like a choice (it comes in a blue cup, after all) but it isn’t.

We definitely have some reliable narrator problems here. I’m going to presume for purposes of analysis that these cut-outs are accurate but incomplete, and that a more explicit threat about what would happen to Crowley if Aziraphale did not return to Heaven was made.

If we assume that Aziraphale has been made aware of a threat and is trying to hide that from Crowley, the rest of this scene reads very differently. Aziraphale cannot say, “you are in danger but you will be safe if you swear your allegiance to Heaven” or “I have to go, no matter what, and the only way we can be together is if you come with me,” but nonetheless he now has to convince Crowley to do the one thing he ought to know Crowley definitely doesn’t want to do all through subtext. Which we’ve spent an entire season establishing that they can’t communicate well when they are allowed to use their words. Disastrously, this is not a magic trick that Aziraphale can make work when it counts. Their failure to practice good communication means that, right now, when it counts most, they are not going to pull it off.

We see that Aziraphale is very hopeful that Crowley will pick up on his cues and play along. Obviously, he doesn’t.

If the whole riff about Hell being bad guys and Heaven being the side of truth and light is taken as genuine, it discards a massive amount of character development that we’ve witnessed in Job, Edinburgh, etc. (again, to all the genuine belief subscribers, I think it’s a compelling argument but it simply doesn’t account for the evidence). So if it’s not genuine, why say it? Again, to alert Crowley that something is Off, because Crowley should know that Aziraphale doesn’t actually believe that. They saved humanity from Heaven and Hell. They hid Gabriel from Heaven and Hell. Crowley knows that Aziraphale knows that Heaven and Hell are just two sides of the same coin. Notice again that Aziraphale glances out the window while he’s talking up Heaven; he knows the Metatron is watching, he can’t not defend the position of Heaven. I think it’s also worth noting that Aziraphale forcefully glances and gestures off to Crowley’s left (away from the window) when talking about Hell, and then turns his head to Crowley’s right (towards the window) to try to get him to realize that a representative of Heaven is literally standing right over there, just look out the window please dumbass!

When Crowley is asking Aziraphale if he said no, and we see the back of Aziraphale’s head, again we can see him turn his head to glance out the window. This is also when he changes strategies, and admits that Heaven could use a little reform. Because now there’s a problem almost as big as getting caught, which is that he won’t be able to get Crowley to go with him.

Which unfortunately makes the next part of this so much more heartbreaking. Because when Crowley begins his speech about being a team, Aziraphale wants to hear it. He can’t bring himself to shut down Crowley again, even though it could get them both in massive trouble. Notice that he glances out the window again during this, and the look of panic on his face. He begins to shake his head when Crowley mentions that Heaven and Hell are toxic; this can be taken a lot of ways but I’ll argue for the interpretation that he’s trying to get Crowley to STFU and stop saying shit that could get him destroyed.

After Crowley puts on his sunglasses we are in the “back half” and Sheen is doing a lot with phrasing here, specifically pregnant pauses.

“Come with me… to Heaven!”

“We can be together… as angels!”

Based on the pacing decision I am thoroughly convinced that the first half of each of these statements is intended to be the message to Crowley and the second half is always a qualifying statement to satisfy the Metatron.

Unfortunately, these pregnant pauses are completely backfiring in their effect on Crowley. The sentiment gives him hope and the qualifying statement crushes it again immediately. He is being taken on a horrible emotional rollercoaster with these declarations which are only further amping up his instinct to run away.

The only truly genuine, unaldulterated statement I think we get from Aziraphale is

“I need you!”

When it becomes clear to Aziraphale that there’s been an irreparable breakdown of communication between them and the subtext is not getting across, he says:

“I don’t think you understand what I’m offering you.”

He means this literally. Crowley has not understood that Aziraphale is offering him protection from whatever threat the Metatron has made.

Which makes this part extra-devastating and also absolutely in keeping with a major running theme of this season.

“I understand. I think I understand a whole lot better than you do.”

Your understanding and my understanding are different understandings.

Crowley views the offer to return to Heaven through the lens of his trauma. He understands what life in Heaven would be like. But he doesn’t understand that Aziraphale is offering him protection.

But Aziraphale just heard Crowley say that he understood everything, and he’s still going to leave. There might be a little suspense of disbelief here to believe that Aziraphale really interpreted the statement this way, but we know that Aziraphale isn’t always the brightest battery-operated candle in the drawer. So under the assumption that Crowley did understand him and is still rejecting the offer, rejecting him—

“Well, then there’s nothing more to say.”

Please pay very close attention to Aziraphale’s body language for the next part. He’s active, agitated, turning side to side, arms swinging. This is a very fidgety angel.

“No nightingales.”

Aziraphale is now completely still. He’s feeling that feeling. You know it. The one where your entire body is getting sucked into the pit of your stomach. The aching paralysis.

This is their song, the one that began their romance in 1941, the secret code for all other attempts at flirtation. Crowley has walked out on him before, Aziraphale has been stubborn and obstinate before. But they always came back together, sometimes with an apology dance or other rituals that belonged solely to them.

But now the song is over.

By saying this, Crowley has broken up with Aziraphale. We can see in Aziraphale’s sudden transition from fidgety to paralysis that he has understood it this way.

Then he turns away from the window so that the Metatron won’t see him cry.

The kiss was heart-wrenching already. But we’re not done with this analysis.

During the kiss, Aziraphale has a choice to make between two very compelling bad choices. This is the Job dilemma. But worse.

If he doesn’t kiss Crowley back, he will let Crowley think that he doesn’t love him. He will have missed out on this (maybe/probably their first kiss?) and regret it forever.

If he does kiss Crowley back, in full view of the Metatron, they are in deep trouble.

He seems to do his best to split the difference. I would even go so far to say that the awkward arm waving is Aziraphale acting for the Metatron’s benefit, to try to portray that he doesn’t want this even though he absolutely does (just not like this). The anguish when they break the kiss is absolutely real, and the first thing he does is glance out the window. Through all this he has remained painfully aware of their spectator.

He wants to say I love you. He mouths it. He breathes it.

But the Metatron is watching.

He can’t tell Crowley I love you. So he has to say the only other thing that has always unequivocally meant “I love you” when he said it to Crowley. He has to hope that Crowley understands him now, even though he never has before.

Spoiler alert: Crowley doesn’t.

My forgiveness and your forgiveness are not the same forgiveness.

One more point against the genuine belief fans (I love you): if the offer to let Crowley back in is what changed his mind, then Crowley declining removes that incentive. Aziraphale should/would have consequently retreated to his last stated position of “I don’t want to go back to Heaven, where would I get my Crowley—I mean, coffee?” It simply doesn’t hold up to scrutiny.

I think a lot of fans were already making these assumptions about the use of the nightingale song so this meta may not feel revelatory, however, it isn’t canon (yet), and I’m sure I’ll find company that agree that canonization of this connection would strengthen a lot of these story points, as evidenced by how it is already assumed by many fans.

If you made it to the end - omg thank you! Please leave a note and tell me your thoughts!

Bonus: somebody already made the song connection here

Bonus bonus: I wrote another meta! You can find it here

Bring it back, bring it back, don't take it away from me

Because you don't know what it means to me💔

There are no capital letters capital enough to express how stylistically impeccable that artwork is. WOW is nowhere near enough.

good omens posting !!! (click image for optimal quality)

prints available here

I do think people are forgetting, sometimes willingly, that Aziraphale is JUST as heartbroken over the rejection as Crowley

They did not walk out of there with Crowley destroyed and Aziraphale bummed but getting over it once he was in the elevator. Aziraphale went to Crowley all giddy and excited because he really thought this was finally it, this was finally their chance to be happy, and he sees it as Crowley taking that chance and stomping on it. H wasn’t lying when he said he needed Crowley, he DOES, and now he thinks Crowley chose his hate for heaven over his love for him just as Crowley thinks Aziraphale chose his devotion to god over his devotion to him

It wasn’t as simple as “Aziraphale rejected Crowley” they both think the other rejected them it was essentially the messiest mutual break up you’ve ever seen

They’re both completely heartbroken and do not see the part they played in their own heartbreak. Both thinking THE OTHER caused it. It’s such a mess. It’s SUCH a mess I cannot STAND these two