if nothing else i’m glad that the tv adaption brought about the mass headcanon that crowley is raphael and thus is a fallen archangel because that’s SO fucking galaxy brained i don’t know what to do with myself
like THIS is why you welcome new fans with open arms because for thirty years we were making up random angel names for crowley before the fall and then one new tv fan was like ‘what if he was raphael patron saint of healing’ and like their MIND their FUCKING MIND
I liked the one where he was called Anthony and didn’t realise that he’d picked the same name again, but yes! The Patron Saint of Healing has to look at the suffering of children and innocents and question why. Thereby, falling… 😢😭😭
oh my god oh my fucking god he questioned suffering he questioned suffering and was cast out because god is not always merciful this is LITERALLY what i’m talking about i am going to SCREAM
I don’t really think of myself as a country girl but today I mentioned that I had a chainsaw in my truck and my coworkers looked at me like I said I had a dragon in there. So.
Katy, I adore you, but you are very much so a country girl. If my electricity was out for a couple days, we would eat out. You have an open fire and just cook some eggs and other food all not fire. You spend an unreasonably large amount of time in a cabin in the woods, Something it would take a great deal of effort to convince me to do. You are a country girl.
Okay, see, I’m a WOODSY girl. Country is, like, horses and farms and stuff. Woodsy is chainsaws and skillets and fighting the wildlife.
I had some other work to do this morning (Figuring out some algae stuff involving 1000 L mesocosm up a mountain) so mystery species has been sitting alone in the lab all morning…..
Made it up to the lab today to find this. It’s probably from the fridge defrosting and not the creepy “algae”.
June 13th Update.
According to a few colleagues it’s either a plant, an algae, or a fungi. So that’s been helpful.
After a day with some sunlight I think I might be seeing some chloroplasts.
It seems to like the nutrient solution I added yesterday though!
I for one welcome our new plant, algae, or fungi overlords.
I was about to say “in a sensible lab people wouldn’t waste time with this, they’d autoclave the bottles and move on” but on reflection I can’t think of a single bio lab I’ve been in that wouldn’t immediately go “ooh, mystery algae, that sounds like a fun challenge; let’s devote multiple hours to identifying it for no reason”.
Well what are you going to do, not find out what the mystery algae is???
so we all know that Crowley can’t actually drive, he just makes the world around the Bentley shape itself around the car so he can go 90mph in London without getting into accidents
we also all know that angels get around on hover boards in heaven (and probably would on earth too? hmm.) and might just be standard issue to all angels, including Aziraphale
now I want you to take those two thoughts and put them together and imagine Crowley coming across Aziraphale’s hover board (tucked away in a cupboard somewhere behind a lesser bottle of wine and a (more inferior than most) inferior copy of the sound of music)
he steps onto the hover board and immediately crashes face first into the nearest bookshelf, bringing down a wall and taking out a lamp post, avoiding discorporation only by a small miracle
Look what I just spent two days making! Video editing turned out to be much more fun than I expected. Sound editing is still a little tricky, but not bad for a first fanvid of this sort, don’t you think?
OK, but there must be hundreds of thousands, if not millions of angels (of all shapes, ranks and sizes) in Heaven
So
Where’s the fic in which a couple (or maybe just the one, a young and impressionable little fledgling angel whose wings have barely started molting for the first time) listens to Gabriel briefing everybody on the Official Reason The Apocalypse Is Cancelled and thinks to themselves this is a load of bullcrap
(Bc you know. You just know Gabriel would say all the wrong things. Like, what do you mean ‘unforeseen circumstances’? We’re Heaven, our job is to foresee. Circumstances. And how could it be that an angel as wicked and evil as Aziraphale is still, you know. An angel? And hasn’t fallen? Something does not add up here).
And so the young fledgling starts to wonder
And they’re not alone
Soon, there are clusters of angels everywhere, heads bent together and talking furiously in low voices.
… gave away his sword …
… what? why? …
… thought they might need it …
… I don’t understand …
… love for humans …
… and demons from what I hear …
… but why …
… saving the world …
… more important …
… ineffability …
… good guys? …
… are we? …
… is he? …
… Fucking Gabriel that’s for sure …
And as the whispers spread (especially that last one), the young fledgling decides to delve into the Earth Observation Files to go see for themselves what Aziraphale has been up to in the past six millennia.
And there’s no time in Heaven, but if there was, it would take them a lot of it before they came out again, looking very thoughtful.
They spends some more not-time in a quiet corner (somewhere the harp music isn’t too obnoxious), a deep frown on their angelic face and eyes red-rimmed and shining. There’s a sniffle, occasionally.
And then, finally, they seek out the nearest Whispering Angel Cluster and tells them what they’ve seen. And the conclusion they’ve come to.
(One or two angels in the cluster gasp, unbelieving. They decide to take the matter to Gabriel, despite the fledgling’s protests and ask is it true? About Aziraphale and his demon, is it true that they saved humanity? Is it true that they saved humans? Not just from the Apocalypse, but many many many times before? Is it true?
And again, Gabriel scoffs and laughs and says exactly the wrong thing (’Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that naughty angel, sweet child. He and that wily serpent of his won’t bother us any longer.’) and that’s all the proof the young angels need that Something Is Not Right.
They return to Fledgling #1, wings drooping and head bowed. There are more whispers (… can we? … Gabriel would murder … Hellfire, they said… Should we?) and eventually, after eons of deliberation, a decision is made.
And so it happens that on a bright, sunny Saturday morning in SoHo, the door to a bookshop tingles open and half a dozen remarkably bland looking humans walk in. And after Aziraphale has called Crowley back to heel and has wrested the nice, leather bound and heavy first edition of the Principia Mathematica out of his demon’s hands, and after the angels have been persuaded to come down from the top of the bookshelves…
He asks them why they’re here. The answer leaves him confused and makes Crowley laugh so hard he almost cracks a rib:
Teach us
Teach us compassion
Teach us to be kind
Teach us about humans
Teach us about what we’re meant to protect
Teach us how to protect
Teach us how to be the Good Guys, like, for real
And Aziraphale is confused and touched (mostly confused), but he agrees. Under one condition: they will have to listen to the demon too, because Aziraphale knows he would be nowhere near the angel he is today if it hadn’t been for Crowley.
(Crowley goes oddly quiet at that for a moment, before he realises Aziraphale is basically giving him shared command of a mini Host. Then he starts howling with laughter again).
Then the rest of the fic is basically just Aziraphale, Crowley and their mini Host of fledglings getting into various kinds of (food and non food related) shenagigans.
(‘Angel, when they said teach us, I’m pretty sure they did not mean teach us about the best place to get Vietnamese Pho!’ ‘Shut up, Crowley. Also, don’t think I didn’t hear how you told Amriel about how you were aboard the RMS Carpathia in 1912. And let me just say, I knew it.’ ‘Shut up, angel.’)
At a certain moment, Gabriel and the others get wind of aforementioned shenanigans. But by then, it’s too late as the Mini Host has communicated all their efforts and findings back to the various other MIni Hosts that are still in Heaven and now everybody is thoroughly convinced Gabriel’s a fucking prick who Should Not Be In Charge. It’s not a second Rebellion, per se. It certainly involves a lot less sulphur and brimstone and screaming. But when all’s said and all’s done, Gabriel finds himself permanently retired, along with Michael, Sandolphon and Uriel, as a New Policy is put in place:
To Be The Good Guys, We Have To Be The Good Guys
‘Eloquently put,’ Crowley sniggers. Aziraphale tries not to laugh before he tsks and shakes his head. ‘They’re learning, dear. Give them time.’
