Current Status: Goddammit Aziraphale!

... Meaning, I'm pretty sure Neil Gaiman did it ON PURPOSE, knowing how much it would upset the fans.

Neil knew how badly we wanted Aziraphale and Crowley (OUR version of Aziraphale and Crowley---the specific version of them we met in Season 1) to be together. He knew we wanted to see them resolve their issues and ultimately choose to be with each other in the end.

Instead, Aziraphale and Crowley forgo that emotional journey in favor of unnecessary pain. Neither of them experience real character growth in the finale; they are shown to be the worst and unhappiest versions of themselves, without getting a real shot at redemption. They never fix their communication issues. They don't express their true, authentic feelings for one another (don't @ me with that bullshit hand kiss thing). They never manage to get on the same page emotionally---even when they both agree to commit suicide (which I'm pretty sure was not the "one thing" Aziraphale wanted).

"Why give me Crowley? Why make me complete and then take it away?"

EMOTIONAL WITHHOLDING is a common abuse tactic utilized by men like Neil. They enjoy creating ATTACHMENT in their victims and then "TAKING IT AWAY".

It's easy to see how much Neil enjoyed frustrating his fans in retrospect. He actively taunted us on social media with the catchphrase "WAIT AND SEE" and threatened to make Aziraphale and Crowley kiss---but in a way we "wouldn't like". He loved dangling the implied promise of a happy ending over our heads, which we now know he never planned to deliver on.

Neil was unkind to his audience. He was also unkind to his characters. Aziraphale and Crowley are treated as punching bags throughout the entire series---shown to be "messy" for the sake of entertainment, but not as a real obstacle for either of them to overcome. God herself says she enjoys seeing how much Aziraphale values his relationship with Crowley. And this turns out to be her justification for "taking it away". (Tell me THAT isn't some fucked up shit.) Aziraphale and Crowley experience real emotional pain as the result of her actions---and this is constantly demonstrated by the incredible acting of Michael Sheen and David Tennant.

Neil explicitly sold this as "a love story" when he created the show. Based on the tone of the book, an eventual union between Aziraphale and Crowley would have made the most narrative sense. It would have emphasized the overarching themes of love, agency, and the futility of "choosing sides". But that would have required Neil to possess the same ethos as Terry Pratchett---meaning LOVE AND RESPECT FOR FELLOW HUMAN BEINGS.

We were never going to get a good love story out of Neil. Men like Neil get off on "PUNISHING" people for no apparent reason; he obviously did this with our beloved characters, to disastrous result. Nonetheless, we still manage to ascribe deeper meaning to Aziraphale and Crowley, thanks to the phenomenal acting team and the dedication of this fandom. Aziraphale and Crowley remain the greatest love story of all time, not because of anything Neil actually wrote, but because of everything that was projected onto them by the people who cared. We assigned their relationship a depth "Neil himself" never could have imagined---one that exemplifies our maximalist ideals of love and the decision to choose it again and again, in spite of everything. It is never going to "end" on Neil's preferred terms. In this rare instance, fan interpretation STILL MANAGES TO ECLIPSE THE SOURCE MATERIAL---and that is because LOVE is always a more powerful story than ABUSE.

Absolutely!

The only pushback I would give is that, while I understand and agree that the finger kiss wasn't enough, based on everything they, and we, went through to get to a point of reconciliation, I do think it COULD have been the most romantic gesture ever, in keeping with Aziraphale's Austen-influenced ideals of romance, with just a little tweak (aside from it not essentially being "goodbye forever"). Had we got to see Aziraphale head-on as he pressed his fingers to Crowley's lips, and he had mouthed "I love you" it would have been a moment of brilliance and heart-melting (again, if not paired with mutual destruction).

Yes, I do agree with you---all of those tweaks would have made the scene more emotionally explicit, which is what the story needed, and what those characters deserved.

I really don't love this trend of authors "resurrecting" themselves on social media (shoutout to Roland Barthes---"Death of the Author"). In retrospect, it's kind of creepy how Neil felt the need to insert himself into reader discussion. He could have let us have our own headcanons and admittedly unhinged blog posts (ahem). But no---he was adamant on his own authority. I almost think he was JEALOUS of the amount of depth we were able to assign to Aziraphale and Crowley. It seemed like he wanted to claim those interpretations for himself.

Seriously, though, I wasn't actually coming @ you. Just rambling out loud. 🙂

I agree S2 had elements of trying to capitalize on the fandom headcanons, but honestly, I'm not mad about it. S2 was a lot of fun (until the Final 15), and though it had plot holes, they were fun to imagine scenarios by which they might be resolved in S3.

In any case, we have so much else to celebrate: all the hard work and passion put into it by Rhianna and Rob, and all the cast & crew for doing their best to give us some kind of ending, even if it wasn’t the one we wanted!

All hail the fans who are taking care of each other, supporting the cast and crew, and celebrating the fanfictioneers who are giving us the ending we wanted and deserve!

And always, GNU Terry, who believed in love.

Hope, though. That's always been mine. Finding the silver linings.

Hell of a flaw for a demon to have.

In time, Aziraphale will write a full recounting. He'll have beautiful prose and a full summary. I'll be sure he doesn't start in Eden so we can finish it inside a human life span. In the mean time, here is a short message from a demon to tide you over.

The world was gone. The universe I so loved. And yet we stood in a bookshop that was nowhere and everywhere. Aziraphale took my hand and somehow I had everything. The books were blank, yes.

But we both remembered them and they weren't fading. We were the repository for the world that we loved. At one point, we started bickering over wine and Aziraphale was holding a copy of the Canterbury Tales morosely.

Geoffrey was a character.

We both spent many a night at a tavern with him as he wrote and even I knew those stories, I think by heart. I wanted Aziraphale to be happy. So, I started writing. The Clerk, the Miller, the Squire.

It spilled from me and I realised Aziraphale's hand was on my shoulder. A miracle pouring into a book. That's how it started. There's more story here and a discussion with God that I think I'll leave to his story telling.

You all have an idea how I feel about our Creatorand her decisions.

And in the end, we are here. Still an angel (now retired) and demon (former). The bookshop is in Soho, where it belongs with Muriel behind the till. And maybe you'll hear more of our cottage now that we're not afraid to spoil an ending for you.

There's no apple tree at its heart, but there is one in the garden that's a bit unique. And in our home universe there are some angels and demons on earth now, too. Not all of them made that choice but some decided retirement was the best option.

There isn't only us of course. You've seen Asa and Anthony (well, one version of them). Each stroke of your pen or click of a keyboard is another. The universes weave in unique and wonderful ways.

As a former star maker, I am proud of you all for making more stars.

Each contained in a story. That's always been what amazes me about humans, you don't understand that within each of you there are universes untold. You only need see them. And once you do, maybe share it with each other.

Aziraphale and I are here. And we'll always be here. He has another challenge planned soon for you lot and I'm considering adding one as well, if you would like.

"Huh," we said collectively after s2. "How's that work exactly."

And we AUed and we fic-conjectured and we metaed and we arted and we debated and sometimes we even argued, mostly civilly...

... and what we collectively came up with, even the most baroque and unlikely stuff (and I'm the first to admit some of my meta was pretty convoluted)...

... was more moral than the finale. Was immensely kinder than the finale. Was cleverer than the finale. Was funnier than the finale. Was more clearly in tune with theme than the finale. Made more sense as a plot than the finale.

We're just better writers than whoever wrote that finale. We are. There can be no question about it. Even our least of fanwriters is better than whatever that was.

We're also better people. We've taken some flak for wanting to continue supporting GO in light of the manifest evil of the one we do not name, and I take no position on whether we deserve it -- perhaps we do. I'm also well aware that being better people than the one we do not name is an incredibly low bar. But all that awareness aside, and with some unfortunate exceptions (we Do Not Harass cast or crew, gentlefolk, it's Not Okay), we're a decent bunch.

And then 40 years later, Andrew Lloyd Webber found a lost cat poem that T.S. Eliot had cut from the cat book for being too sad for children, and ALW was like “woahhh. A cat….that’s sad. That’s deep, man. I wanna make a musical out of this”

So the producer assigned to the project was like “okay, I guess you could maybe read these cat poems as a satire of 1930s British society? We could probably do something sort of interesting with that, I’m thinking a cast of about 5 and–”

And ALW was like “no. Forget the satire. Also I want a cast of dozens and the most advanced special effects technology ever seen on stage. I’ve taken out a second mortgage on my house to fund this”

And the producer was like “wh– you– wh– do you even have. a plot”

So ALW got a bunch of actors and writers and artists together and they holed up and did cocaine workshopped for 5 weeks, and at the end of it they emerged and said “the plot is that a bunch of cats are having a dance contest for the right to take a ufo to cat heaven :)”

Happy Valentine’s Day!

I’ve finally finished these besotted ineffables! I hope you all have a sweet day and feel love, for yourself and your people, whoever they are. I got ranked best pretend boyfriend by not one but TWO people this week so I’ll be sitting here beaming with my trophy. Oh and I guess cuddling the spouse who deserves one too 😆

I am very happy to share this wild commission with you guys!

@jac-is-procrastinating-again was kind enough to choose me to make this scene come to life

"As John came in in a dark suit jacket and trousers. Aziraphale was fussing over him. “There, you see? Very stylish, comfy, you have pockets and the Cuban heel gives you a sexy sway whilst not being high enough to be unstable.”

Aha! A ruby-looking tiara would go nicely, and matching earrings. Sherlock picked out the tiara. “Let me help you with that.” Crowley sashayed across, randomly clicking her fingers. She took the earrings, which were thankfully clip on ones, and affixed them to Sherlock’s ears. “Shake your head.” He did, and she nodded to herself. “Those should stay secure.”

“I’d hope so.” He pinned the last clip into the tiara as well and brushed his dress down, straightening the skirt and checking the line down the back of his stockings.

Aziraphale was still talking to John. “So, once you get in, take the jacket off and strut your sexy stuff, right? But without messing up your hair.”

“Are you sure I can’t just put my jumper on?” he moaned.

“No.” Aziraphale could be surprisingly terrifying when riled, it seemed. Sherlock smiled and checked his lipstick in the mirror before turning to get the general effect of his costume.

“Right. Show us your strut, then.”

Sherlock stretched out one ruby-red thigh boot and considered the gleaming scarlet length of leg before him smugly. Yes, he should make a decent showing. He took a step or two to see how the costume moved. He just hoped they had John in something better than his oatmeal sweater—

He glanced up to see John, an incredibly sexy, John with spiked hair and smouldering, kohl-lined eyes, take off his suit jacket and swing it over his shoulder to reveal nothing underneath but a leather harness over a sleek and well-toned set of abs. This apparition of pure sex strutted across the room, his toned arse pert in the tightest pair of leather trousers Sherlock had ever seen.

Just for one second of pure hunger, every process in Sherlock’s brain stopped all at once except for a deep visceral voice that growled ‘MINE!’

“Ooof!” Something smacked Sherlock in the face hard.

“Sherlock?” John paused mid-stride, amusement sparking in those goddam sexy, kohl-lined eyes. “Did you just walk into the door?”

Get the rest of the story

https://archiveofourown.org/works/76479141/chapters/200145231