This. *points At Picture With A Shaky Hand*

"Nah, he's not monstrous, that's utterly ridiculous. He always puts other people's happiness before his own. He doesn't even permit himself to dance with me unless he plans a Jane Austen ball (she has balls) for other people's happiness first.

No, he never was abusive. He was supportive whenever he could and sometimes even, when it would have been the smarter thing to keep his mouth shut.

But, yes, he's a prick. Throwing away everything we could've had, just because he thinks, he can do goody-good in heaven.

They'll roast him alive.

Which they tried to do before."

Fandom acting like Aziraphale is the Bad Guy for asking Crowley to become an angel again is something else. I'm not arguing that offering to turn him into an angel again was the right thing to do, but CONTEXT MATTERS!!

Things Crowley has canonically said about his fall:

"I never asked to be a demon. I was just minding my own business one day and then… Oh, lookie here, it’s Lucifer and the guys. Oh, hey, the food hadn’t been that good lately. I didn’t have anything on for the rest of that afternoon. Next thing, I’m doing a million-light-year freestyle dive into a pool of boiling sulphur." (Aziraphale appeared to Crowley right after he said this so it's not outside of the realm of possibility that he found Crowley by following his voice in the first place.)

"I didn't mean to fall. I just hung around the wrong people."

"I didn't really fall. I just, you know, sauntered vaguely downwards." (Crowley says this to Aziraphale in the same scene he asks for holy water.)

Crowley was turned into a demon against his will.

Crowley hates being a demon too. It makes sense that Aziraphale would mistakenly believe that Crowley might accept the idea of becoming an angel again if what we were witnessing was Aziraphale being honest with Crowley in the final fifteen.

Again, I'm not saying he was right to ask that of Crowley, but let's not just decide that Aziraphale is a Bad Person for asking when he's witnessed ways in which Crowley has suffered as a demon.

There is indeed a lesson to be learned here, but why bring a little more context into the situation when it's just easier to villainize Aziraphale, am I right?

Yes, he was wrong to ask Crowley to become an angel again because it's not what Crowley wants. No, he's not a monster for offering. This is seriously all because of their stunning inability to communicate what it is they actually want.

Aziraphale has to break free from whatever hold Heaven still has on him, but he doesn't deserve to be treated like the Bad Guy.

It is entirely possible to criticize Aziraphale's actions without painting him as a monstrous abusive prick.

And my absolute highlight at Proud Nerd Con was, of course, meeting David Tennant.

I can tell you, he really is a wonderful person. Often when you meet actors in real life, it's a little bit of a disappointment, and the things we love about them, are just show. That's not the case with him.

He cares for his fans, and he means it. It was an incredible busy day for him, autograph sessions, photoshots, meet and greets, and pannels, he really was rushing from one thing to the next all day. But he went out of his way caring for his fans, even when he was getting tired at the end of the day.

He answered as many questions as possible, he had smiles and kind words for everyone, and even some hugs (with asking consent first, of course.). It really felt like he had adopted all of us.

He loved being at the convention. He called it "absolutely bananas" and said he enjoyed the cheerful atmosphere. Everybody got to be themselves, and no one needed to hide anything.

He is also incredibly funny. And it's not that kind of funny that mocks other people that you see so often in bad comedians. He loves to tell stories, he loves to play with with language, and he really had us laughing our heads off. His jokes are silly (the good kind), and his humour is incredibly intelligent.

His charms and great personality carried a big part of the event and turned it from a wonderful day into a truly magical day. Everyone was still glowing on the bus ride back to the train station.

"Back in 1941 when we were in the bookshop, there was this song playing on the radio that Aziraphale liked so much. Something about angels dining at the Ritz and a nightingale.

He still refused to dance with me, though, because well, angels don't dance.

A few days later, though, when I drove by the bookshop, I saw him dancing in there all alone by himself. His eyes were closed and he had this dreamy far-off expression on his face that he sometimes gets when he reads one of his favourite books or smells some very delicious food. I've also seen this expression when he listens to his favourite composers, but never before with a modern song.

So, angels do dance, they just do it when no one's looking. I suppose, the cat's not dead as long as no one opens the box.

The very same song was playing on the radio again. Of course, I couldn't hear it through the windows of the bookshop, but I had the radio turned on in the car.

Some time after the war, when the song stopped being famous and wasn't played on the radio anymore, I sent Aziraphale a record of it. He never mentioned it, but he must have known it was from me because he said something about dining at the Ritz in a conversation we had a few years later.

Actually, the song isn't even about angels dining at the Ritz, that's just a figure of speech. It's about two lovers who spend one magical night with each other, but for some reason, they can't stay together and have to say goodbye in the morning.

I have the head canon that at some point, I like to think 1941, Crowley tried to slow dance with Aziraphale. He just got caught up in the moment and the music, extended their hand and said something like ‘may I have this dance’ or something like that. In response Aziraphale, even though he wanted to with every fibre of his celestial being, only sat up straight,cleared his throat and said ‘ Crowley, you know quite well that angels don’t dance’ and Crowley sat down again.

That’s why Crowley says‘you don’t dance’ at the ball.

Sixteen reasons to miss you... as if I needed any more of those.

#just aziraphale things (crowley)

Where we left off: Our hero was nursing his wounded heart, that had been so callously broken, with a bottle of whiskey and a lamentation to the stars. (Mind the commas in the last sentence or it will mean something entirely different... I think. My spelling's "tickety boo" for a demon, but don't hold me accountable for commas, or as Aziraphale used to call them: commata.)

Anyhow, as our hero was lamenting and minding his own business, he was suddenly ambushed by an old enemy. With even more whiskey.

I know, I'm gonna regret this. I'm gonna regret this big time.

"So", I ask, turning to Beelzebub. "What exactly happened?"

"At first, nothing bad. We went to the pub as usual. And then we went to lots of different places. More pubs, shops, the sea, some restaurants, a waterfall, Paris, the moon...."

Why did we never do things like that? We could've had ages to go to places. Literally ages!

Nice one, us!

"And then? Then what?"

Well, we did go to the Ritz. And Paris, too. And some graveyard in Edinburgh. Still, to most of these places we haven't been on purpose. They just happened.

We've wasted our time. We’ve wasted so much time.

"At first, everything was like...like..." Beelzebub is at a loss for words.

"Maple syrup?", I cut in, "Raspberry vinegar? Baklava drowned in honey?"

Being stuck in their office, Beelzebub used to be quite unfamiliar with earth, but they do have a taste for sweet and sticky stuff. Even more so if it's drowned in even more sweet and sticky stuff.

They pause for a moment, trying to hide the goofy grin spreading on their face. It's a very unbeelzebublike grin. "Even better. It didn't really matter where we went and what we did, as long as we could spend time together."

"So, what changed?", I ask. No reason to dwell on memories of things you can no longer have.

"I don't know. It got boring. No, not boring. And not all of the things."

"More like annoying?"

I'm taking a wild guess here, but the expression on their face tells me I struck gold. "Yes. Exactly."

Beelzebub sets down the bottle to be able to move their hands more freely as they talk. "Wherever we go, he always wants to go shopping. This watch and these bags and those shoes. And then he parades around in them and wants me to tell which ones make him look better. And if I pick the wrong ones, he gets all sulky and curls his lip in this really weird way."

Their words get a bit fuzzy, as they try to demonstrate it with their own mouth, but that may be the alcohol's fault.

"And the tailors - oh, these endless hours at the tailors! I can't stand it. This suit and that coat, and - bloody heaven - how am I supposed to know if a tie is supposed to match the shirt or the jacket?"

"It used to be the jacket, now it's the shirt." I marvel in silence at the amount of words tumbling out of their mouth. Beelzebub can be quite a chatterfly, but this is unusual even for them.

"Oh and if it wasn't bad enough, then that whole napkin thing started. We ate at this nice little restaurant in Florence - and he managed to get a stain of tomato sauce on one of his oh-so-precious suits."

I snigger. Imagine that, Mr. ‘I-don't-sullen-my-celestial-body’ eating Pasta in Florence and getting tomato sauce on his clothes. Oh, Angel, how I wish, I could tell you this! We could sit in the bookshop, have a laugh together and imagine Michael or Uriel sending Gabriel a strongly worded note...

"I thought, how can one little stain be such a big deal? We can just miracle it away, but he was devastated. And then he started stuffing a napkin into his collar whenever we had something to eat, so it wouldn't happen again."

Florence. Aziraphale and I met in Florence once or twice during the Renaissance. We were watching the horse races with a young Spanish seminarian - César, I believe - me trying to tempt him away from priesthood and Aziraphale trying to cancel me out. I had already struck a deal with the boy's father in Rome to make him Pope, but I suppose that's a story for another time. Anyway, napkins. Right. Napkins.

Is Beelzebub about to tell me how they broke up with Gabriel over napkins?

"You know, some humans actually do wear napkins in their collars. Or put them on their lap while they eat. It's considered an acceptable behaviour in most restaurants."

"It's a ridiculous behaviour." Beelzebub doesn't seem to be happy about me trying to share my earthly wisdom. "Human children wear them. Adults look absolutely ludicrous in them. Anyway, I told Gabriel, I will not stand for it. If he puts one more napkin in his collar, I will turn on my heel and leave. And yet he did, and then I left and now I am here. End of story."

They grab the bottle again and gulp down the rest of it.

Okay, how do I put this. "Look, Beelzebub, 'breakup' may be a bit of a strong word here."

"Whaddoyoumean, strong?"

"I'm saying, you two got in a fight, but it's not that bad. Aziraphale and I used to have them all the time. You see, he has far more annoying habits than wearing napkins in his collar and parading around in new clothes."

"More annoying than napkins?" Their eyes narrow in disbelief.

"Tartan. That bloody tartan! Yes, I know, Angels wear tartan, but he wears it in places where you wouldn't believe it even existed and I'm not telling you because it really is none of your bisss... business. And he practisesss weird phrasesss about auntsss and their gardenersss because he insistsss on French, the hard way."

"French the hard way?"

"No, not that kind of French!"

"What French?"

"Oh, just forget about the French! He turned my car yellow. He uses weird words like 'commata' and 'tickety-boo' and half of the time, I don't understand what he's talking about anyway. He insists on doing human style magic shows without any miracles and doesn't care that he's bad at it. All of his drawing pencils have to be put in their little boxes in the right order and they all need to be the same size. And when he gets all excited, he pronounces capital letters."

I mean, really pronounces them. And he waves his hands around and bobs on his feet and singsongs along to his music records and I can't... I don't... grrrm... and where the heaven did I put my blinds? Where the f*** are they?

"Here." Beelzebub grabs them off the street and hands them back to me without looking at my face. Their eyes are set firmly on the flow of the river.

Humans may offer each other hugs and hot cocoa. Demons usually mock other demons for weakness. Pretending not to notice it, is a rare thing, and I appreciate the sentiment.

"I have a plan." Luckily, my instincts are back in place, for Beelzebub is about to tell me the real reason why they came to me in the first place. "Look, Crowley, why don't we just start our own thing?"

"What thing?"

"I mean, Hell was started originally because angels rebelled against Heaven, right? And now we - sort of - rebelled against Hell."

They can't be serious. "You mean, we create Hell Point Two? Oh, I bet, good old Lucifer is going to love this."

"He can't thwart us if we're strong enough. Not if we get enough demons to join our side."

They start to pace to dwell on their train of thought. "We could offer better rations or even some nice extras. Like stronger firecoffee or bugs in the office."

I take a step back. "Look, I don't know if 'Hell Point Two' is going to cut it..."

"You're right, we need a better name. One that's more appealing. How about: "The United States of Beelzebub?'"

"Bit long for demons, don't you think? They couldn't spell it. 'Hell' is such a nice short word."

"Don't be such a spoilsport!", they snap. "We could shorten it."

Right. I can clearly picture legions and legions of demons pumping their fists, fins, hoofs and claws up into the air while shouting: USB! USB! USB!

Scary thought. "Oh, come on! Think of all the paperwork. It'll be far worse than a few napkins."

"So, whaddoyousay, Crowley?" Beelzebub extends their hand. "I'll run it, you can be my second-in-command?"

Now, where have I heard THESE words before?

"Well, yes, USB. I can definitely see a career option here. Bees are great. Wahoo for Plan B. Just don't forget, before Plan B is set into motion, there's Plan A as in: Talk to Gabriel!"

Their hand sinks as they stare at me incredulously. "Talk to Gabriel... what about?"

"Pacts. Pacts are a thing. I know, they teach us in hell that we can only strike proper pacts with humans, but they actually function with angels, too. Quite well, to be honest. Aziraphale and I have had lots of pacts over the centuries."

Oodles of pacts. Once he had understood that it actually worked, it was pact-city-Aziraphale.

"For example: You could try something like: 'First, I go shopping with you for two hours, but then you go to my favourite pub with me.' Or: "First, you tell me which pair of shoes feels better on your feet, then I tell you which one looks better.'"

I see the frown on their face, but this time, I definitely sparked their interest. "There are many ways this could work, all you have to do, is bargain for good terms. Negotiate. Find things to bribe him with. You won't believe me now, but this can be quite fun."

"Fun?"

"Fun. Trust me on this. And don't let fights discourage you, they are just a thing. After our first fights, we didn't speak for centuries, then it became decades, then years. Nowadays we are down to mere days or even hours."

"Fine." Beelzebub still looks grumpy as usual, but also relieved somehow. "I'll do that, then."

"You know how to find him again?" I'm curious.

"Yes. I can sense where he is... sort of. I know it sounds weird, I can't really explain, how it works. It's just a feeling."

A feeling? Right. How would I have even the slightest idea how this feeling feels like? It's only been ... what? A few hundred years? A few thousand?

Why can't I pinpoint the moment when it started. I actually can't. It's always been the two of us. Always. Except for the brief times when he went up or I went down, I could always feel an earth with an Aziraphale in it.

Now it's empty. Hollow. I've never not felt him for such a long time.

I'm empty. Incomplete. Ripped to pieces at my very core.

"And, Crowley?"

"No, don't thank me.” Just go, be happy lovebirds or whatever. This has gone far enough already and I hope, I'm just too drunk to remember this entire conversation tomorrow."

~*~

More Diary Parts:

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16 / 17 / 18 / 19 / 20 / 21

Things to Do Today

1. Sober up and get rid of hangover

2. Ponder on how ridiculous this is

3. Get drunk again because I can't deal with this sober

I thought they were off to Alpha Centauri. Living that sweet life we will never have...

Well, it seems things don't always work out for other people, too.

Obviously. But let's rewind to last night and try to sort this all out.

"I was going to mysteriously appear in your car", Beelzebub said, "but somehow I can't get in anymore."

Oh.

"Also, when I tried to miracle myself in, the car suddenly turned yellow. Like some kind of defense mechanism."

OH!

"Things have changed, Beelzebub. You have to be invited in. And I'm certainly not go... gonna do that."

"Well, that's all right." They take a step closer. "We can just talk here."

"And I certainly don't want to talk."

"I brought booze."

My eyes shift between the empty bottle I'm holding and the full bottle in their hands.

Sigh.

I throw the empty bottle into the Thames (Yes, I should litter, I'm a demon after all. And maybe some hermit crab can build a home in it. Or some little fish family. Oh, lookey here, it's Nemo and the guys.)

Beelzebub passes the full bottle to me. It's obviously not miracled out of Hell, it's good old Earth stuff.

Mhm. Smells like it, too. And I just remembered that Nemo is a saltwater fish.

And so are hermit crabs.

I take a deep sip. Well, obviously not fish, but well.. you know.

"I heard about Aziraphale," Beelzebub looks at me with a sympathetic gaze and suddenly I feel the need to throw up. "I'm sorry, things didn't work out."

Bloody Heaven! I'm not going to talk to them about Aziraphale. It's bad enough with Maggie and Nina trying to get me to talk about Aziraphale, but Beelzebub? Really?

This is one of the few times I'm actually speechless, but being a fellow demon, Beelzebub should fully well be able to read my death glare.

They do. "Well, that's all right. Gabriel and I broke up, too, and I don't want to talk about it either."

They WHAT? They thwarted both Heaven and Hell for their love and now they fall out of it after barely three months?

Lucky for the both of us, Beelzebub freezes the bottle in mid air before it smashes on the ground. They grab it, take a big sip and pass it back to me.

We stand in silence, staring at the river. All is quiet, except for the city noises in the background, the sound of the water and the occasional burp from one of us as we devour the alcohol.

I know, I'm gonna regret this. I'm gonna regret this big time.

"So", I ask, turning to Beelzebub. "What exactly happened?"

~*~

Older Diary Parts minus the Reblogs:

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8

Yeah, well, sometimes I forget that I've got wings, too. Or I forget that I could just turn into a big badass snake.

There's one thing I don't forget, however: Rescuing me makes him happy, too.

Snoose the Goose. The Snoose Game. (Az wins the fuck-shit-up wingspan.)

One last day to go at Leipzig bookfair.

Until I continue the diary, I'll leave you some very cute pics of Crowley and Aziraphale cosplayers whom I saw walking by our booth.

There even was a big cosplay meetup of about fourty to fifty people, which I unfortunately couldn't attend 'cause I was working. Well, maybe next time. 😁

I know that everyone is waiting to find out who met surprised poor drunk Crowley on the bridge - and you will soon - but I want to answer this one quickly, before I forget.

I, too, choose five things that go for me in real life and also go for me as Crowley.

I am very creative and I love what I create.

I enjoy rock music (possibly a bit more metaly than Crowley)

I love to dance and I absolutely don't care how it looks

I am nonbinary at heart. I enjoy presenting male most of the time and I enjoy presenting female when I'm in the right mood for it.

I am very inquisitive. I collect knowledge and new skills, I want to dig through all the layers to get to the bottom of things. And I often got in trouble for "asking too many fool questions" especially as a child and teenager. I didn't get chucked out of heaven like Crowley did, but I did get thrown out of religious class at school once.

I nominate: @crowazira @taraiha @goodomensfanbase @gayforanthonyjcrowley @dagonmasteroftorments @somebebop @draemorah @caterhoades1971 @starfruitsomething

once you get this, you have to say five things you like about yourself, publicly. then you have to send this to ten of your favourite followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool~)🌈🌈

Ah, I love this! Thanks @hell-hath-no-fury-like-love (love the handle, by the way!)

I’m creative

I like trying new things

I have a deep connection with nature and animals (or so I tell myself)

I’m a good listener

I think I have a good singing voice

@greenthena @greeneyed-thestral @tangerine-ginger @dee-morris @sayuri-of-the-valley @godfrey-the-chaos-duck @godihatethisfreakingcat @lookingatacupoftea @phoen1xr0se @takemetotheworld

Things to Do Today

Slee.. oh, wait!

There's a missed call from Aziraphale on my phone.

Yes, that's his name on the display. Did they finally insist on giving him a mobile phone in heaven? Even if they did, how would my phone know that it's him? Wouldn't it just be Unknown Number?

The number connected to his name in my phone is the number of the bookshop. He no longer is in the bookshop. If he was in the bookshop, I would feel that he's on Earth. I no longer feel him on Earth, so he can't be on Earth and in the bookshop.

Phone, delete missed call.

Phone, delete contact Aziraphale.

Phone, block this number!

~ * ~

More Diary Parts:

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16 / 17

Some people's minds are actually able to express what I'm feeling right now. That's a lot of talent and skill to say "backstabbed" is it not?

I wonder if he feels the same way because I turned down his offer to join him in heaven.

But he couldn't actually have believed I'd ever go back there, could he?

Smitten