Well As The Lily Quoted The Will....

Things to Do Today

1. Sleep

2. Not get booped awake by weird people

3. Stop dreaming ridiculous things.

The duck still doesn't want the peas...

It gazes at me with one beady eye, its head bending sideways while the rapping and tapping quickens its pace.

"Wait", I protest, "you can't be a duck, you're supposed to be a raven. A duck wouldn't be rapping and tapping at my chamber door."

"Right you are", says the duck and with a flap of its wings knocks over the bowl. The peas roll all over the place while a bespectacled friar in a black frock frantically chases after them and yells something in German about dominant allele, whatever that is. My poor head can't make sense of it because the rapping and tapping rings too loudly in my ears.

The duck on the other hand doesn't worry about any of this. It flaps its wings again and takes off. Landing on the shoulder of the Metatron, it croaks a long last 'Nevermore' in my direction. The Metatron glares at me and I notice, he has a pair of black buttons sewn over his eyes. Still, doesn't make the glare any less creepy. 'Nevermore' still rings in my ears when the rapping and tapping finally saves me from drowning in seas of peas.

Ouch.

My head hurts.

Again.

Oh, come on, Nina! Seriously?

I scramble for the handle to roll down the window before her angry fist starts breaking glass. My poor, poor car. "What. Do. You. Want?"

"I want you to come out of your little booze fortress, Mr. Six-Shots-of-Espresso and listen to me."

"I don't want to talk."

"You won't! I'm going to talk and you're going to listen. And if you're too drunk to listen, you will use these devilish powers of yours to make yourself sober and listen anyway."

"Big words from the woman who wanted to drink herself senseless after Annie Wilkes dumped her."

What? I'm not a nice person and I want her to go away.

"First, you have absolutely no right to insult my ex-partner. Second, that would've been one night. One. You've been going at it for several months now. Are you trying to drink yourself to death?"

I swing my long legs out the door, jump up and start pacing around her. Slowly. Menacingly. She doesn't even flinch.

"So? And whatever do you think," I spit out, "makes this any of your business?"

Her death glare is no less deathy than mine. Maybe even a little more so.

"I made it my business. Because with your shitty behaviour you're hurting people I care about."

"What?"

Why?

I don't understand. Why is it anyone's business what I do? Even if I wanted to drink myself to death - which I don't - why would that be anyone's business but my own?

The only person I love is gone.

He doesn't care, so why should I?

~ * ~

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"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.

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

“Hello, Traitor.”

How?

How, how, how? How can she be in here?

I just got used to the fact that my Bentley has angelic protection now. And that protection didn't fade away when my angel left for Heaven. Demons can't be in here; they’d have to be invited in.

Shax obviously can. “I was going to pull you down to my new office, as it seems befitting for my new position. But you’re so miserable already, I didn’t want to drag you out of your safe space."

No, you just wanna throw it right into my face that you can be in said safe space without any consequences. Don't think I don't recognize your tactics.

"Besides, Hell doesn’t need to know about our little talk, do they?”

"Oh, are we having a talk?" Slouching in my seat I lean back, giving her my cheekiest smirk. Oh, I can feel her new powers emanating from her and I don't know what she's capable of, but there's no way in Hell, I'll show her any fear. Two can play this game.

"We are. I brought chocolates."

"Chocolates?" My face freezes again, this time with astonishment. "You honestly think, I can be won over with chocolates?"

She eyes me from the side. "Well, my first intent was using death threats, but after watching you cry and whine and sob all these last months, I didn't think you would mind discorporation or even destruction so much. If I threatened you, you'd probably respond with something like: 'I don't want to live without my angel!' or 'Please kill me already.' So, I decided not to do you that favour.”

All these last months watching Crowley TV? “Oh, so glad, I could contribute to your amusement with my misery.”

“You couldn’t. Although my associate quite enjoyed seeing you like this... Oh, that was sarcasm, wasn’t it? I’m getting very good at spotting it.”

“Oh, are you? My sincerest congratulations on making Duchess of Hell, then.”

“Thank you.” Shax looks very pleased with herself. “Finally, the next step in my career. Beelzebub was right about their departure offering chances. It won’t stop at this stage, though. I have great plans for my future.”

“Lemme guess.” I take a closer look at the box of chocolates lying on the dashboard. “Grand Duchess of Hell, Princess of Hell, Mother of Demons…”

She brought schnapspralinen. What am I gonna be, a kangaroo? Oh, but there’s whiskey and rum and vodka and ouzo and eau de vie and sake... oh, my! Pity, they aren’t full bottles, just tiny sips covered in chocolate.

“You’ve been out of Hell for a while.” Shax frowns, her giant face hovering over me. “But you do remember that demons don’t have… Crowley, what are you doing?”

“Right.” It’s all just a question of size, isn’t it? I’ll think, I’ll start with that round piece of cherry brandy. Ngk… why does that stupid pen have to be so heavy? And… bam! Nice little holey hole! Keep the good stuff flowing.

“Crowley! Will you stop this nonsense?”

She reaches for me, but I’m quicker, jumping down on the steering wheel to evade her hand. “What? A gift is a gift!”

“I want you to work for me, Crowley. You’ll get to be Duke of Hell, once I’m Grand Duchess. And you can have your flat back.”

“The Bentley’s fine. Lots and lots and lots of space for me to enjoy.” I slide down on one side of the steering wheel (hey, this is fun) and start to climb over the radio to get back on the dashboard.

This time, she’s quicker. Her hand comes down on me and she grabs me between her gloved fingers. “I could just squash you like a bug.”

“Right.” Tiny little tears spurt from my eyes. “My angel has left me for Heaven, please be merciful and end my suffering.”

“No. Stop being so pathetic.” She sets me down and I reach for the pen again. Your vodka’s mine, you pear-shaped piece of brittle chocolate. Hand it over right now!

There’s simply no way in Heaven or Hell I’m having the rest of this conversation sober.

~*~

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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.

All ways lead to you.

All ways, always.

Especially during those times when we couldn't be together, I knew deep inside that I would find my way back to you. Or you to me.

I could feel you, even when you were away. I might feel empty, lonely at times, but there was always this warm golden glow of your presence. Sometimes very close, sometimes further away, but it was always there.

One time I couldn't feel it, was during those decades down in Hell. But I had the memory of it and that was enough to keep me fighting. Keep me from giving up. I needed to survive to find you again. And I did.

One time I couldn't feel it, was when your bookshop burned down and you were discorporated. But then, it was you who found your way back to me.

And now you're gone. That beautiful golden glow has vanished. Where there used to be light, only darkness remains. Where there used to be bright colours, everything is damp and gloomy and hollow.

I lost my way because there's no you my way can lead to,

I can't come back because there's no you to come back to.

Earth is empty without your presence.

And so is my heart.

lost my way and i can't come back

"Aziraphale would probably disagree about the introvert part.

My plants would too, if they dared something to say on the matter."

Things To Do Today

Sleep

Yell at plants

Get some more drink - I'm down to the last bottle. Again.

Another note under the wipers. This one's from Maggie. She wants to meet up for coffee in Nina's coffee shop. Also it seems, this is not the first time she's wanting this.

No, no, no, no, no. No coffee for me.

I worry too much that I'm gonna ask for death.

~ * ~

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Things To Do Today

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

Things to Do Today

Sleep

2. More sleep

3. Burn the mail Shax put under my Bentley's wipers.

4. Curse Heaven, Hell, the World and everything.

5. Find something else to burn.

6. Go back to sleep.

~*~

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