Crowley Is Lonely - Blog Posts

Exactly. I would give anything for this right now.

What is the key to enjoying life? (x)

Yup.

Sometimes I wonder what's going on in that big beautiful brain of his...

Sometimes I wonder if he had a good reason to do what he's done.

Still....

Feels lonely.

Day 243 of posting Good Omens memes Everyday until Season 3

Diary Entries on AO3 - Chapter 3 online

Uploaded the next part of the diary entries on AO3 :

Aziraphales Diaries and the Secret (not so Secret) Diary of Crowley - Chapter 3

Basically, it's those parts where my former boss ambushes me and I have to explain to them about pacts. Because they seem to have forgotten all about pacts in these few months out of Hell. Anyway, I can't think of any demon going for that USB plan thingie.

Thanks to @taraiha for constantly reminding me that ducks have ears and for making sure, my phone did not block the bookshop's number. And thanks to Nina und Maggie and @muriel-not-the-dim-one for not giving up on evil old me, although I am... well, maybe not evil all the time, but nasty, snarky, grouchy, grumpy and most of all stubborn.

And thanks to londondavi_2008, ineffablymiles, AMagnificentObsession, RainbowCloud31, IAmtheproblem, oboextra, CrissyCoo, Lilyfev, telekinesiskyle7, and Clorofila for leaving kudos and comments on my whiny ramblings (and Aziraphale's beautiful and poetic words).

I'll go back to missing my angel now.

*curls up in a little snake ball of pain*.

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.

Cat Booped Me Awake Today

Seems like I slept through another week. If it weren't for the cat, I would probably be sleeping still. Shouldn't leave the window open.

Things I Did Today:

Ate the rest of Shax' chocolates, simply because I'm booored. They were not poisoned.

Drove around for a bit.

Drove by the bookshop

Made another attempt at telling Muriel (or Maggie) I don't want be their friend. The attempt consisted of me sitting in the car in front of the bookshop

Drove away again

Drove by the University where they gave away old books today. They do that from time to time because they get lots of books from private collections, but they don't have room to store them all.

Took a few boxes of books and stored them in the bentley.

The plants were not pleased

Drove back to the bookshop

Placed the boxes by the door

Wrote a note to Muriel

~*~

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Trying to talk to Maggie and to Muriel – Attempt Nr.2

Hi Maggie, please tell Muriel to come over to the record shop, so that I need to say this only once: Stop trying to talk to me, the both of you. Stop sending me notes, stop trying to call me, just stop doing anything about me. I am not your friend and never will be.

There, you have it. Nice and short.

The only problem is, if I put it like that, Maggie will probably cry and Nina will give me her angry face again. And Muriel will look at me with those big brown eyes and think it’s their fault. And perhaps cry, too.

Enough! No more crying. I’m sick of blowing my nose all the time. It gets all red and blotchy. Why do noses always have to run when you cry! Major design flaw if you ask me. But I forgot, you are not asking, @the-almighty-god. You’re just playing your ineffable game. Next time, please play Dungeons & Dragons with us. At least that one has uhm…. dungeons and dragons and elves and Bags of Holding in it. I would quite like a Bag of Holding, then I could’ve kept all of my plants when Hell kicked me out of my flat.

Okay, next try: Hi Maggie and Muriel. I can’t be your friend because I don’t do friendships. Bye.

That one’s so short, I could actually write it on a card. Maybe I should, then I don’t have to talk to them. But Nina was very specific about this one. If you don’t want friends, you have to tell people to go away and you have to do it in person. Writing will not do, texting will not do, and simply going away until they forget about you will not do either. That one least of all.

Nina says, the truth is painful, but at least they’ll have a clean cut and they can start to heal. They can’t when I just leave them hanging. No closure.

Hi Maggie and Muriel. I don’t want to be your friend because I’m scared. Scared that I’ll get hurt when I open up to someone. Scared that you’ll get hurt, when Heaven and Hell start doing their thing again and we all get caught in the crossfire.

No, by ‘the truth’ I didn’t mean ‘that much truth’.

Just the clean cut. The one we never got to have. First, I walked out, then he walked away. We never sorted anything out. Did he leave because he chose Heaven over me? Did he leave because he chose Heaven for me? Did we break up? How can we break up if we aren’t even together? Are we still friends, or is everything over for good?

What does he want with Heaven? Does he truly believe, he can make a difference? Was it just an excuse to get away? Why did he kiss me back and then told me, he forgives me? Did he even listen to anything I said?

Why suddenly dance with me at the ball when he refused to dance with me back in 1941 when I asked him to? Why does he want me to be an angel again? Am I not okay for him the way I am? Does he even want to be “an us”, or did he at least want it before everything went down the drain? Does he still think about me as he is up there, doing God knows what?

Is he thinking of me right now? Perhaps this very moment?

I slam on the brakes and let the Bentley spin to the right, so the car behind me passes by without hitting me. The driver yells something rude, but I’m not listening to him. My mind is full of questions and I can’t answer a single one of them.  

No closure. No clean cut. Just pain.

I can’t heal because I’m left hanging. I can’t move on with my life because I don’t know what’s there to move on to and what there isn't. Is he still a part of this life or is he gone for good?

I’m on hold. I’m on hold like a human on a phone who doesn’t know if they should hang up or if they should wait for the conversation to continue. When Beelzebub came to talk to me about Gabriel, I understood immediately what was going on with them. Why can I not understand what is going on with us?

Again Nina’s words: “But then, other people’s love lives always seem so much more straightforward than our own.”

I start the Bentley’s engine again, but before I can bring my foot down, I freeze.

“Hello, traitor.”

 No literal freezing. Just a jumpscare.

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

~*~

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@aziraphalesdiaries @muriel-not-the-dim-one

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

Well, I don't know about the Crowleys of other people's headcanons, but as for me, I'm never setting foot in that bookshop again.

What should I do in a place where he isn't, but everything reminds me of him? Torture myself on purpose? Get Muriel into even more trouble with Heaven so their superiors kick them out and he looses the bookshop for good?

And besides... walking back into a place where I just made a very dramatic exit from - nah, not really my style. So, no bookshop for me.

I've been hanging out in my car ever since the shop was entrusted to Muriel, and Hell still refuses to give me back my flat.

And my Bentley doesn't even remotely look like a beach. It's not gonna start being yellow again.

Fascinating that the fandom has basically torn itself apart about Aziraphale…what are his intentions? his motivations? did he do the right thing in going back? what’s he planning? …but everyone just somehow agreed that Crowley’s one job in s3 is to hang out in the bookshop until Aziraphale gets back…basically his s3 job is Beach.

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.

I usually sleep through Easter. It's not as bad as Christmas, but still too many people rambling on about 'the-lord-our-saviour' before being cheerfully and positively nasty to each other.

I can only hope, no one puts any Easter cards with "Harry, the rabbit" under my Bentley's wipers.

~ * ~

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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

Things To Do Today

Drive.

Just drive

Nothing else.

Waking up this morning, I knew instantly that today is a driving day. I've sobered up to get rid of the hangover, but my headache's still there and it's persistent. Should've sobered up yesterday night, but I kinda like the fuzzy head. Keeps me from thinking.

If there's enough pain in my head, I suppose, I won't worry too much about the pain in my heart.

I don't want to go anywhere near the bookshop. I don't, but I need to return the CD to Muriel before it looses its song. Still, I drive around all day to work up the courage.

The song starts five or six times while I'm driving back to Soho. I try to listen, but in the end I always turn it off. My car turns it back on. I turn it back off.

At the horizon, far beyond the end of the road, the sun's going down in a blaze of red and orange. Like the whole world was about to end in fire.

The street lanterns at Whickber Street flicker on as I pass through. The stores are closed at this hour, but there's still light in most of the restaurants and, of course, the pub.

I could go there, have a whiskey. Or I could have a bottle of wine at Marguerite's or a bottle of Tsingtao at Mr & Mrs Chen's place.

No, I can't. It would never be just one glass or one bottle. Wasting yourself on your own is fine, but not in front of people you used know. Not front of people he used to know.

If I was human, I'd probably be dead in a ditch somewhere three times over. Being who I am, I know how far I can take this. This may be the worst time, but it is certainly not the first.

It's not even the first time I got my heart ripped out, but last time happened to be a bit more literal.

Do mine eyes deceive me? There's light in the bookshop. No, not in the shop itself, but up in the flat, in the very guest room that Gabriel used to live in when he was Jim.

For a brief moment I allow myself to imagine what it would be like if Aziraphale was still in there. He'd notice I was on my way and open the door for me. And then we'd sit inside and talk about something or other, have a drink or two, and maybe talk some more. He would have a snack and I would watch him eat. He would get excited about something and bounce around and I would listen to the ridiclous sounds coming out of his mouth.

And watch his smile. That beautiful beautiful smile. And everything would just be fine for a few hours.

A familiar silhouette at the window. Muriel is sitting there, probably on the inside sill, their head bent over a book they're holding. They're a fast reader, turning the pages at a quick and steady pace.

I wonder why Muriel didn't take Aziraphale's room. It's bigger than the guest room and it's not like he'll be back anytime soon.

Angels and their faith...

I drop the CD in the letterbox inside the door, trying to avoid any noises. Back on the road, I look up to the window again.

Muriel still seems busy with their book. I hope, they read all the brilliant ones first, then the good ones before moving on to the trash that they inevitably will find.

But then, these humans never can tell the difference. Goethe's Faust was a good book. Marie Corelli's Sorrows of Satan was a brilliant one.

I cross the road and signal for my car to come pick me up. Nina is still inside her closed-for-the-night-coffee shop sitting at a table across Maggie. They're talking to each other and they both look worried.

Time to get out of here. Just as the Bentley speeds around the corner, Maggie spots me and starts waving frantically. Nina looks up, too, her expression a mix and match between a sigh of relief and a death glare.

No. No talk. I don't want to talk to any of you. I did what I came for and now I'm leaving.

Just leave me alone, all of you!

~ * ~

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I don't know what's worse...

That he doesn't lo... doesn't want to be with me or that he would want to be with me if I was an angel.

~ * ~

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