"Ngk, Aziraphale I don't think this is the right ti-"
Aziraphale touches Crowley's cheek and reaches for an apple.
"Let me tempt you," he offers the fruit to the former demon.
Crowley takes it, confused and bites, what's the worst that can happen?
Aziraphale smiles at him and pulls him in for a kiss, tasting the apple from Crowley's lips. They don't notice the horrified screams of God and Satan who disappear in a puff of smoke because Aziraphale and Crowley stopped believing they could be relevant in this moment, at the end of the universe.
"I can hear traffic." Crowley whispers into Aziraphale's ear when they stop for a moment to breathe, wrapped around each other.
"Mmm, I think we need something more drastic to bring the rest of the universe back though."
Listen, we all laugh at how much mileage Aziraphale is gonna get out of his kinky ‘captive princess’ fantasies once he and Crowley get it together, and we are completely right and correct to do so. But we’ve all been sleeping on the other half of that equation. Because Aziraphale’s the one who’s been setting up these, “Oh no, I am dramatically imperiled (and/or mildly inconvenienced); where oh where is the dashing and devilishly handsome knight who will save me?” scenarios for centuries - but Crowley’s the one who’s been turning up unfailingly, again and again and again.
Because Crowley? Crowley wants to be the hero. Crowley wants to be James Bond. He wants it so badly it hurts, bullet-hole windscreen transfers and all. Crowley’s deep, dark fantasy is that he can be good - but also a little bit bad. The rogue agent, the wild card, the one who doesn’t follow the rules, and doesn’t much truck with listening to his superiors. Crowley’s deep, dark fantasy is one in which he gets it right; in which he does the right thing at the right time, and has the right witty comeback in the right situation, and instead of being punished, he saves the day and wins the heart of the genderless celestial being of his choice. Crowley’s deep, dark fantasy is one in which he is never not in control of his situation; one in which he bounces back easily and stylishly from all manner of fights and challenges and adversity; where he faces nothing he cannot overcome with the right combination of wit, ballsiness, and a little Hollywood luck. Crowley’s deep, dark fantasy, the one he can never, ever admit out loud, is one where the world is simple and uncomplicated in the way nothing in real life is simple and uncomplicated; a world in which the good end happily, the bad unhappily, the baddies are dispatched in PG-13 fashion, and none of it needs to be questioned or second-guessed at all.
Crowley’s deep, dark fantasy is one in which there is nothing so dastardly, nothing so terrible or fearsome, that it cannot be solved by a guy in a flash suit arriving in the nick of time with a fancy car, and a complicated watch, and a pen that can write underwater.
I would like to register a complaint. This person should not be allowed in heaven. Complaint duly noted and registered. Will it make a difference? Oh no.
Aziraphale deciding that this was an entirely Heaven appropriate outfit for Crowley is one of my favourite joys of the finale.
He’s like, yes, here’s my sassy Demon coming to help me, and yes he looks like that, and yes I can see you’re upset and want him gone, and no, he’s not leaving.
I love, too, how very *Crowley* his outfit is throughout. The snake belt. The snakes on the lining of the jacket. The snakeskin boots. The horns, of course. The absurdly tight trousers. The waistcoat, with sequins like gold scales. The shed snake skin tie, same as always except now in gold.
No matter the colours, this is *Crowley*. And in S2, we saw the delightfully silly outfit Crowley had chosen for himself, an outfit that said a lot both about him and about what he thinks of Heaven. Here, though? Oh, I absolutely think that Aziraphale had been the one to—with Crowley’s approval—create what we see, and I love how carefully every element here mirrors Crowley’s own choices.
Antony Crowley had a bizarre dream; a medley of images that no longer made sense after he woke up. The daily routine quickly pulled him away from the memory of it, but as he was walking home back from the university later that day, he thought of it again. He rarely had such vivid dreams, let alone so fantastical...
Lost in thought, he turned right one street further than his usual route. That's how he spotted the bookshop, really. He stepped in, not thinking much of it, and was greeted by a kind and handsome face.
Funny, that it should happen that way.
It was a nice day.
A piece on destiny, chance and love that transcends universes. If you want more on my process drawing this, pop under the readmore 💗
I'm an absolute sucker for soulmates so good they find each other in every universe.
I really wanted to play with the idea of Aziraphale and Crowley's love being so powerful it imprinted on the new world, the seeds of it lying dormant for millennia until it blooms again.
I also love thinking about how a single choice can change one's life. Had he not taken the next turn right, Crowley would've never met Asa. Now, if one believes in the supernatural, perhaps someone gave him a nudge ;)
Details:
The piece transitions from purples and pinks to earthy tones. I tend to draw the celestials with sort of a soap-bubble/oil slick palette that gives it this ethereal feeling; For Tony and Asa I wanted to move towards earthy tones.
My goal for the dream panel was to make it feel almost like you are in a primordial space: twisting dark scales, suggestions of things, fragments. The essence of an angel and a demon like rich soil for things to grow from.
Had lots of fun drawing this, it was almost meditative.
The *screen ratio* changes when we go from one universe to another. Up until the epilogue, we watch everything in cinematic widescreen, with black bars on the top and bottom.
And then when we reach the epilogue, those bars... they go away. We've broken through.
On the South Downs, at the bottom of the Devil’s Dyke, there are two humps known as the Devil’s Graves — or, more accurately, the Devil’s Grave and the Devil’s Wife’s Grave — under which a couple is believed to be resting side by side, keeping watch for trespassers.
Local folklorists claim that the Devil was buried there after a local saint (or a regular, but very wise old woman) caused him to stop his work and perish with a fake light imitating the rising sun and a cockerel’s crow misguiding him about the dawn and his allotted time on Earth being prematurely over.
Legend has it that if a person runs backwards seven times around the humps — their resting place on Earth — whilst holding their breath, the Devil himself will appear. Probably with cocoa or a gardening tool in hand, angry about being disturbed to save the world once again.
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