Be angry at Nina for making things so difficult. Instead of talking to me, she could’ve just written more notes for me to ignore.
Ponder on Nina’s words
Overthink
Go back to sleep because my brain hurts from overthinking
Wake up and work up the courage to speak to Maggie and to Muriel
Have a few drinks to be more courageous
Sober up because I can’t very well talk to them drunk. Maggie would probably not take me seriously and Muriel would be really confused or even scared. They haven’t experienced me in full drunk mode yet.
Yell at plants to let off some steam
Drive around, not necessarily in the right direction.
Nina says that Muriel thinks it’s their fault that I’m not talking to them, not visiting the bookshop anymore and not responding to any of their notes and cards. I was so shocked I almost dropped my shades.
I can’t wrap my head around it. I couldn’t even wrap my entire body around it if I was in my snake form.
I mean, we all messed up in some way or other. The angels messed up, the demons messed up, Gabriel and Beelzebub messed up, Shax messed up, Aziraphale messed up, Floating-Head-Coffee-Or-Death-Guy messed up, Maggie und Nina messed up, and I have been walking chaos since I started walking on legs. (Might have been crawling chaos before that). The only person who really didn’t have anything to do with any of this, was former-inspector-constable, now bookseller-to-bee.
Why do they think it’s their fault? I don’t understand it at all. I know that humans sometimes feel guilty for something they’re not responsible for, but Muriel is an angel. They should think that they’re always doing the right thing.
But then, Aziraphale has experienced guilt before. Even then when things weren’t his fault. Perhaps guilt is an angel thing after all.
I wish I could tell Muriel that this has nothing to do with them. It's a good thing that they keep the bookshop safe.
I just can’t be in there at the moment because everything reminds me of him. But I can't talk about that to Muriel. I can’t be on Whickber Street, I can’t talk to Maggie and Nina, I can’t deal with this, I can’t process it. And I’m sorry for causing them pain. I don’t want any friends because I don’t want to cause others pain.
It was my damn job to cause others pain for so long.
~*~
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@aziraphalesdiaries @muriel-not-the-dim-one
Oh, no! Someone made me look cute. 😳
Toys of Crowley and Aziraphale made of felt❤️🔥Handmade🫶🏻
Made in Ukraine🇺🇦
Sleep
Burn more mail
Why is there always so much mail under the wipers? That can't be right. There never was so much mail under the wipers in the months and years before. And Shax never put the mail under the wipers anyway. She always insisted on giving it to me personally.
Seems there were notes in between the letters. Or letters with notes. I don't know. I don't care. It's all burned now.
Something or other from Nina and from Maggie. Maggy? Don't know how to spell her name. Spelling's hard anyway. Doesn't matter, I'm never talking to her again.
And Muriel obviously wrote me some glittery card thingie for Valentine's Day. That must be the reason why the ashes are so glittery.
Someone needs to explain the little bee what Valentine's Day is for.
Someone, not me. I'm going back to sleep.
~*~
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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
My book boxes found a new home it seems...
Passing by the bookshop, I can see the new shelf standing near the door. It's nice and full now, ready and waiting.
Have to remember to get new books as it starts to empty out. But I suppose, it'll be a while. People rarely want to buy books, they prefer to walk through the isles, look at them and leave. Stuff's online these days anyway.
I can see Muriel move around, adding something to the shelf, but I can't see what it is from the outside. They're sitting back down at the desk doing something that involves cutting und glueing paper, and also drawing and painting on it with different pens und brushes. Then they get up, go to the shelf again, add something and move back to the desk. This is repeated a couple of times.
They're so busy, so joyfully immersed in their work. I can almost feel the enthusiasm, and I can certainly see that little spring in their step. It reminds me of an angel I know, and - bloody Heavens - did I just smile? Did I actually smile?
Funny old world, is it?
The last time I smiled, was a little more than half a year ago. In this very same spot. Looking through the very same window, into this very same bookshop.
The day my summer ended.
The very last day that I saw my angel.
~*~
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Muriel -
These boxes in front of the door contain books of classic literature the University gave away. They are not first editions like the ones Aziraphale has, but some of them are quite old.
You can put them in a shelf at the front of the bookstore to distract customers. So if you get very persistent costumers who really want to buy a book, you can sell one of these. Then the customers won't go for Aziraphale's books.
Try it out, it might make your daily business a little easier.
(There is no signature on the note, but someone drew a little snake on it...)
*Muriel struggles to put together a bookshelf from someplace called IKEA. It is so different from the original bookshelves in the bookshop.*
*Shelving the books that were dropped at the door.*
The Picture of Dorian Gray, To Kill A Mockingbird, Ulysses, The Odyssey, Metamorphoses, The Great Gatsby, The Works of William Shakespeare……the list goes on, the bookshelf filled.
Muriel places a little miracle on the bookshelf so that customers would be drawn to it. To look for their purchases there.
They went to the back of the bookshop, digging through the back room until they found the bucket they were looking for.
They smile as they begin decorating the bookshelf.
There is a GO project I wanted to share with you: This February, there was a very cool Good Omens Talent Show on @sendarya's Youtube channel.
There were lots of different categories, for example artwork, original songs, creatives and many many more. My Aziraphale @aziraphalesdiaries submitted a sonnet, which can be found on his youtube channel.
Another one of the categories was song parodies.
We wrote an entry for this one as well. Lyrics are mostly by me, edited by him. He did the recording and mixing of the song, I created the lyric video. Aziraphale's lines are sung by him, Crowley's by me.
The song contains our thoughts about the Final Fifteen, so be prepared for a bit of heartbreak.
As you might guess, "Light So Heavenly" is based on "Defying Gravity" from the musical Wicked.
Watch Light So Heavenly on Youtube.
Your thoughts and comments are greatly appreciated, on our blogs as well as on the video itself. Enjoy the song and leave us some love. Thank you.
I just hung around the wrong people!
the star maker that sauntered vaguely downwards
Nina, purveyor of coffee, whirling into the scene like a thunderstorm, woke our hero from his precious sleep (and a weird dream) to give him - me - another telling-off.
She's quite scary when she's angry. Not demon scary, but most definitely human scary.
"Do you even understand how all of this affects Maggie?" I'm not surprised at the burst of emotion in her voice as she says the name.
"She's been worried sick about you! Trying to write to you, trying to call you, and some days even waiting by your car for you to wake up, so she could make sure you're all right."
"I'm not." How does she even find me? I drive around and park the Bentley in different places every couple of days.
"We KNOW. Do you think none of us has gone through breakup before?"
Well, maybe you have. I certainly haven't. I don't do relationships and I have no idea how to process this. Except for drinking, sleeping and curling up in a little snake ball of pain.
"Of course it's bad. It hurts like hell..."
Worse. Speaking from experience here.
"... and you have every right to be sad and mopey and angry, but stop shutting out your friends. Talk to us! At least let us know where you are and what's going on."
"I don't have friends. Never wanted friends. Completely friendless person, me."
She sighs. "Yes, you're a devil and you're evil, blah blah blah, real man solves his problems on his own. Heard all of that before, except maybe the devil part. But you've got to realize that your actions have consequences for others. You're not alone in this world."
But I am.
I've always been alone. For 6000 years on this godforsaken planet, doing the bidding of my ridiculous headoffice and trying not to go completely insane. Using every excuse to be close to my angel and every excuse not to get too close, so we wouldn't be in trouble. Missing him after every encounter, every meeting, every conversation. Sometimes positively yearning for his presence, but never ever being able to act on it.
Because that's just the way things are.
I was alone the last time I hit rock bottom. Healing one step at a time, slowly piecing myself together after my 33 years of torture. Because I allowed myself to save one human soul and got caught at it. One. Single. Human. Soul.
No good deed goes unpunished.
I never had anyone to talk to because angels are my enemies, demons are my rivals and humans wouldn't be able to shoulder all this bullshit that's been going on with me. And God doesn’t answer to any of us.
And yet, Nina has the nerve to come here, shake me awake and tell me that I'm not alone? That I’m supposed to 'talk about it'? Throw overboard all my harshly earned survival skills because now apparently, I have friends?
No, absolutely not. I don't make 'friends' with other people. It's not something demons - the word is demon, not devil - do. You can stop pretending to care now and walk away.
She doesn’t.
Instead, she throws my very own words back at me. “For once in your life trust somebody!”
~ * ~
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…. and apparently, she wants to bribe me with liquor-filled chocolates to come back to Hell. I’m not going back, but first I puncture the chocolates with a pen to drink all the liquor. Oh, and did I mention I’m small? (the puncturing and drinking thingie wouldn’t work too well if I was my usual size).
“Stop deluding yourself, Crowley. Deep inside, you already know that Aziraphale left for one reason only. You are a demon and you will never be good enough for him.” Shax tilts her head to the side in one of those familiar bird-demon gestures and watches me intently with one eye. “How does that make you feel, Crowley? Hurt? Angry? Will you let an angel treat you this way? Break you and cast you away like a used toy?”
I clench the pen and ram into the next piece of chocolate like a tiny lance. This is ridiculous. She doesn’t know the least thing about my angel. However delusional Aziraphale may be for believing he can make a difference in Heaven, deep down his intentions are good. He never wanted to hurt me.
“You gave up everything just to be with him, and you’ve risked everything, even your own destruction. And at the first grasp of power – he’s gone!”
No. No, no, no, no! This isn’t about power. Aziraphale doesn’t care about power at all. He wants to change the system from within. He wants to turn Heaven into the place of light, he always believed it’s meant to be.
But in this belief, there’s no place for a demon. There would have been a place for the angel I was, but I can no longer be that angel.
Shax’ eyes glitter. “I’m not offering you a job, Crowley, I’m offering you a chance at revenge. Rise from the ashes and use that burning fury inside you against the one who wronged you. Unite with me and strike him down on the battlefield in the Great War to come.”
Revenge? Burning fury? I almost choke on the burning whiskey running down my throat. Course, I understand where this is going, she wants to me to direct my anger against Aziraphale. She wants me to become the big bad demon in shiny black armour raining fire and destruction in his unquenchable thirst for vengeance.
Bloody Heaven, I can almost picture this. Aziraphale and me having a face-off in the midst of battle. He’s probably wearing something silvery-white and carrying – I don’t know – some flaming sword or lancea-longini-spear-of-destiny-thingie. And then we’d look into each other’s eyes and stab each other very dramatically with Heaven and Hell watching. And maybe, just maybe, we’d die even more dramatically in each other’s arms with white and black wings entwined.
There’s only one little mistake in this scenario, we did this whole silver knight - dark knight scenario a thousand years ago in King Arthur’s Court and it hasn’t become any less pathetic since then. And second – a crank handle isn’t really made for stabbing. Or fighting in wars for that matter.
“Sorry, Shax.” I’m back to normal size now, sitting in my usual seat behind the wheel. “Nice career option, just not seeing myself there. Anyway, thanks for the booze and tell Hastur, I said ‘hi’”.
She looks at me incredulously. “This choice will have consequences. If you stand aside like a coward, you will be crushed like one.”
“There are always consequences.” I shrug. “But it’s not cowardice, although you probably don’t believe me.”
“What is it, then?” She eyes me suspiciously.
“I just don’t feel it, Shax. All this silly power play for rank and influence and who-get’s-the-biggest-throne-and-the-shiniest-medal. I know, we demons are supposed to live for this, but I just don’t care. And, you know, that eternal-fiend-thing with the angels? Don’t feel that either.”
“Earth has made you weak.” She shakes her head. “All of us will assemble and take our positions in the last stand. Like on a chess board. If you don’t take yours, you will be totally insignificant in the game to come. And my offer was better than anything you could've hoped to achieve. You could’ve been my Second-in-Command, once I sit on Beelzebub’s old throne.”
She can’t know that she’s already the second person to offer me a position like that. The third, actually, if you count “The United States of Beelzebub”.
No.
No Heaven for me. No Hell for me. I’m done.
“I’m perfectly fine with being insignificant.” I want to add more, but she’s already vanished.
Anyway, I’m keeping the coffee. Or in my case, the liquor.
~*~
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Yup, my thoughts exactly.
I'm still waiting for it to work, though. So far, the nasty bugger is still there and shows no signs of going away.
Heartbreak. That's what it is. I always thought it's just a figure of speech, when humans call that way. But it's true. My heart aches as if it was smashed to smithereens.
I wonder if it feels the same way for him...
crowley starts a journal to deal with the grief.
Yours truly in a nutshell. 😈
#just crowley things (aziraphale)
Good Omens fanstuff, mostly Crowley's PoV. Post Season 2. Mild content warnings for swearing, misuse of alcohol and angst.
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