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youryurigoddess · 5 months

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A nightingale sang in the London Blitz

When exactly was that certain night, the night Aziraphale and Crowley met — and spoke for the first time in 79 years in the midst of the London Blitz?

And what’s the deal with the nightingale’s song, really?

Grab something to drink and we’ll look for some Clues below.

The night they met

The Blitz, short for Blitzkrieg (literally: flash war) was a German aerial bombing campaign on British cities in the WW2, spanning between 7 September 1940 and 10 May 1941. The Luftwaffe attacks were carried out almost non stop, with great intensity meant to force a capitulation and similarly strong impact on British life and culture at the time.

Starting on 7 September 1940, London as the capital city was bombed for nearly 60 consecutive nights. More than one million London houses were destroyed or damaged, and more than 20,000 civilians were killed, half of the total victims of this campaign.

The night of 29 December 1940 saw the most ferocity, becoming what is now known as the Second Great Fire of London. The opening shot of the S2 1941 minisode is a direct reference to recordings of that event, with the miraculously saved St Paul’s Cathedral in the upper left corner.

The actual raid lasted between 06:15 and 09:45 PM, but its aftermath continued for days. The old and dense architecture of this particular part of the city turned into a flaming inferno larger than the Great Fire of 1666. Multiple buildings, including churches, were destroyed in just one night by over 100,000 bombs.

Incendiary bombs fell also on St Dunstan-in-the-East church that night, the real-life location of this scene as intended by Neil. It was gutted and again claimed by fire in one of the last air rides on 10 May, when the bomb destroyed the nave and roof and blew out the stained glass windows. The ruins survived to this day as a memorial park to the Blitz.

Such a delightfully Crowley thing to do: saving a bag of books with a demonic miracle adding to the biggest catastrophe for the publishing and book trade in years. 5 million volumes were lost, multiple bookshops and publishing houses destroyed in the December 29th raid alone.

Even without this context, judging by the seemingly unending night, overwhelming cold and darkness, broken heating at the theatre, and seasonal clothing (like Aziraphale and Crowley’s extremely nice winter coats), it’s rather clear that it was the very beginning of the year 1941.

Everything suggests that Aziraphale and Crowley’s Blitz reunion happened exactly 1900 years after their meeting in Rome — which, according to the script book, took place between 1 and 24 January 41 (Crowley was right: emperor Caligula was a mad tyrant and didn't need any additional tempting; there's a reason why he was murdered by his closest advisors, including members of his Praetorian Guard, on 24 January 41).

Interestingly, both events involved a role reversal in their otherwise stable dynamic, with Aziraphale spontaneously taking the lead instead of letting the demon be the one to do all the tempting and saving, and ended with a toast.

The S2 Easter Egg with the nuns of the Chattering Order of St Beryl playing table tennis at the theatre suggests that the Blitz meeting happened on a Tuesday afternoon, which doesn’t match any of the above mentioned days, but sets the in-universe date for 7 January 1941 or later.

The Chattering Order of Saint Beryl is under a vow to emulate Saint Beryl at all times, except on Tuesday afternoons, for half an hour, when the nuns are permitted to shut up, and, if they wish, to play table tennis.

The nightingale

January means one thing: absolutely no migratory birds in Europe yet. They’re blissfully wintering in the warm sun of Northern Africa at the time. But, ironically, when the real nightingales flew off, a certain song about them suddenly gained popularity in the West End of London.

It might be a shock, but A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square wasn’t a hit from the start — even though its creators, Eric Maschwitz and Manning Sherwin, were certainly established in their work at this point. The song was written in the then-small French fishing village of Le Lavandou shortly before the outbreak of the Second World War with first performance in the summer of 1939 in a local bar, where the melody was played on piano by the composer Manning Sherwin with the help of the resident saxophonist. Maschwitz sang his lyrics while holding a glass of wine, but nobody seemed impressed. It took time and a small miracle to change that.

Next year, the 23-year-old actress Judy Campbell had planned to perform a monologue of Dorothy Parker’s in the upcoming Eric Maschwitz revue „New Faces”. But somehow the script had been mislaid and, much to her horror, replaced with the song A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square. She had never professed to be a singer but even so, she gathered her courage and went out onto the moonlit set dressed in a white ball gown. Her heartfelt rendition of the now evocative ballad captured the audience’s imagination and catapulted her West End career to stardom.

It was precisely 11 April 1940 at the Comedy Theatre in Panton Street and the revue itself proved to be a great success — not only it kept playing two performances nightly through the Blitz, but also returned the next year. And the still operating Comedy Theatre is mere five minutes on foot from the Windmill Theatre, where Aziraphale performed in 1941, and not much longer from his bookshop.

Now, most Good Omens meta analyses focus on Vera Lynn’s version of the song from 5 June 1940, but it didn’t get much attention until autumn, specifically 15 November, when Glenn Miller and his orchestra published another recording. And Glenn Miller himself is a huge point of reference in Good Omens 2.

According to the official commentary the infamous credits scene is establishing Aziraphale and Crowley’s final resolve for the next season using the same narrative device The Glenn Miller Story (1954) does in its most crucial scene. It starts with the tune (and audio in general) totally flat, then adds a piano on one side, and gradually becomes fully multidimensional. The Good Omens credits not only emulate the same sound effect, but bring it to the visual side of the narrative by literally combining the individual perspectives of the two characters together. Even though they’re physically apart, their resolve — and love to each other — brings them even closer than before. Aziraphale smiles not because he’s being brainwashed, but because he knows exactly what to do next.

Some of you might have noticed that Tori Amos’s performance for Good Omens is actually a slightly shortened version of Miller’s recording — much less sorrowful than Vera Lynn’s full lyrics that include i.a. this bridge:

The dawn came stealing up

All gold and blue

To interrupt our rendez-vous

I still remember how you smiled and said

Was that a dream or was it true?

Which is a huge hint when it comes to what we can expect from the main romantic plot line in the Good Omens series. The original song introduces an element of the doubt — it seems like there was no nightingale at all, only the mirage woven by the singer clearly intoxicated with love, much like Aziraphale and Crowley for the length of the last six episodes. Crowley’s comment in the season finale might allude to that interpretation, stating that there are no nightingales — never have been. It was all a dream. But the version we’re working with here is short and sweet, and devoid of that doubt. In the Good Omens universe angels were actually dining at the Ritz, the streets were truly paved with stars (or will be shown as such in the next season), and a nightingale really sang in Berkeley Square, as the omniscient, omnipresent, and omnipotent narrator, God Herself, had shown us.

All in all, it’s not an accident that the “modern” swing ballad activating Aziraphale’s memory and opening the 1941 minisode is the Moonlight Serenade by Glenn Miller. It’s a track naturally associated with A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square when it comes to music style and the sentiment in the lyrics.

But why the sudden popularity? In the great uncertainty and hardship of the Blitz, A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square provided solace and escapism for listeners, offering a glimpse of hope and love amidst the darkness of war. It became a universal anthem of resilience and a reminder of the power of love transcending difficulties. By January 1941 the whole city knew this tune by heart, including a certain West End aficionado with a cabinet full of theatre programs in his bookshop. Thanks to Maggie’s grandmother, he most probably had a record at hand to play during his spontaneous wine night with Crowley. We can only suspect the details, but it was was mutually established as their song exactly at that time or soon afterwards. Pretty sure we will see a third installment of that minisode for many, many reasons, but especially because of this “several days in 1941” answer by Neil:

The Man Hunt

In 1941 A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square gained even more popularity as the romantic theme of the Fritz Lang’s newest film Man Hunt. The 1939 story by Geoffrey Household first appeared under the title “Rogue Male” as a serial in the Atlantic Monthly Magazine where it received widespread comment, soon becoming a world-wide phenomenon in novel form. Its premise criticizes Britain's pre-war policy of appeasement with Germany, ready to sacrifice its own innocent citizens to the tentative status quo. Sounds a bit like Heaven's politics, right?

Yes, I'm trying to make you watch old movies again — like all the other classics, Man Hunt (1941) is easily available on YouTube and other streaming websites.

The next part will include spoilers, so scroll down to the next picture if you prefer to avoid them.

The plot of the movie seems simple enough: the tall, dark, and handsome Alan Thorndike, who nearly assassinates Hitler, narrowly escapes Germany and back in London continues to evade the Nazi agents sent after him with the help of a young trench-clad “seamstress” named Jerry, bridging the class divide and becoming unlikely friends-partners-romantic interests. It doesn’t end well though.

Jerry's small London apartment serves as a hideout for Alan when he was being followed by Nazis, similarly to how Aziraphale's bookshop is a safe haven for both Crowley and Gabriel in S2. She helps the man navigate the streets and eventually out of London — by sacrificing herself and getting forcefully separated from him by a patrolling policeman. The last time they see each other, Alan watches Jerry look back at him yearningly and disappear in the fog, followed by the elderly officer.

Unfortunately in the next scene we learn that the latter is a Nazi collaborator and helps the agents apprehend Jerry in her own flat. Staying loyal to her love and uncooperative, she’s ultimately thrown out of a window to her death, but posthumously saves Alan once again — through the arrow-shaped hatpin he gifted her earlier that is presented to him as the evidence of her off-screen fate.

Long story short, thanks to Jerry’s sacrifice Alan not only survives, but is able to join the war that broke out in the meantime and go back to Germany, armed with a rifle and a final resolve to end what he started, no matter how long will it take. The justice will be served and the dictator will pay with his life for his sins.

I wouldn’t be myself without mentioning that the main villain has a Roman chariot statue similar to the one in Aziraphale’s bookshop, an antique sculpture of St Sebastian (well-known as the gayest Catholic Saint) foreshadowing his demise, and a chess set symbolizing the titular manhunt/game of tag with the protagonist.

Aziraphale’s song

Will Aziraphale sacrifice himself as well? Or has he already? If his coin magic trick can be any indicator, we should expect at least a shadow of a danger touching the angel’s wings soon.

Let’s sum up the 1941 events from Aziraphale’s perspective: the very first time they’ve interacted after almost a century, Crowley actively sabotaged his entire existence twice by stepping onto a holy ground and by being outed by agents of Hell, both on the very same night and both because of his undying dedication to the angel. That’s enough of a reason not only for performing an apology dance, but also maintaining a careful distance for Crowley’s sake for the next 26 years. Only when he heard that his idiot was planning to rob a church, he gave up since he “can't have him risking his life”.

That’s when Crowley, sitting in a car parked right under his bookshop, offered him a ride. It wasn’t even subtle anymore. It was supposed to be a date, this time both of them understood it. But Aziraphale wouldn’t risk Crowley’s safety for his own happiness, especially not when he can name his feelings towards him and knows that they are reciprocated — the biggest lesson he learnt back in 1941.

So he did what he’s best at, he cut Crowley off again, but this time with a promise of catching up to his speed at some point. Buddy Holly’s Everyday, which was originally planned to play afterwards instead of the Good Omens theme, adds additional context here:

No, thank you. Oh, don’t look so disappointed. Perhaps one day we could... I don't know… Go for a picnic. Dine at the Ritz.

Aziraphale, carefully looking around and feeling observed through the whole conversation in the Bentley, consciously used the “Dine at the Ritz” line from A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square, from their song, as a code only the two of them understand. Not as a suggestion to go out for a meal, but a promise. A hope for the privilege of being openly in love and together — maybe someday, not now, when it’s too dangerous — even if it leads to a bad ending.

Fast forward to 2023 when for one dreadful moment Crowley’s “No nightingales” robbed Aziraphale even of that semblance of hope. He looked away, unable to stop his tears anymore. Only their kiss helped him pull himself together and make sure that a nightingale did sing the last time he turned — just like in their song — this time without a smile, as a goodbye.

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tiazvni · 1 year

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immature | suguru geto

words : 1k

warnings : fem!reader, black coded, mating press, dumbification, car sex, belly bulge, slight college!au, exboyfriend!geto, possessive!geto, toxic!geto

“who is he?”

you choke as your ex-boyfriend, suguru geto, acknowledged you for the first time since your breakup last year. he looked so frustrated - eyes dark and muscles tense as he caged you into a secluded corner, his body practically shielding you from the blaring music and dancing crowd of the surrounding frat party so that you could focus solely on him.

“s-suguru,” you sputter, trying your best to ignore your racing heartbeat. “the hell are you talking about?”

“don’t play dumb.” his eyes narrowed as he looked down at you from the bridge of his nose. that stare, the way he towered over you - it brought back some feelings that were all too familiar. “the guy you came here with, who is he?”

it took a second for you to process his words. you realize he’s talking about travis, a guy from your sociology class who had offered to be your date to the party tonight. he had left to grab you both drinks shortly after you arrived, providing suguru an opportunity to make a move the instant he began his search for alcohol.

you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest, emphasizing your cleavage beneath your baby blue crop top. you were primed to tell him how desperate he looked right now, but fuck, suguru was standing so close. your senses were overloaded by his scent - eucalyptus with a hint of whiskey reserve, a cologne you bought for him on his last birthday.

and a stark reminder of why you really wish you hadn’t come to this party in the first place.

“um, that’s none of your business,” you match his gaze, priding yourself over your cool, level tone, “so get out of my face, please and thank you.”

suguru raised a sharp brow. “i see you still have that nasty attitude.”

“and what about it?”

he shrugs, the ends of his lips curling in a devilish smirk. “nothing. it just tells me you haven’t been getting fucked properly. what, having trouble finding someone who can handle you?”

you bit the inside of your cheek. travis was the first guy you’ve allowed yourself to go out with since your breakup. he was kind, considerate, and sensitive. a stark contrast from suguru. and having only been on one other date with him, sex was still too early an activity for your…acquaintanceship, if you will.

you try not to squirm where you stood, the beginnings of desire fluttering in your pussy the longer you were under your ex’s scrutiny. “again, that’s none of your business, suguru.”

“why, worried i’ll scare him away?” he chuckles. “‘cause i will.”

you scoff, changing the subject. “i’m not worried, i’m impressed you’re acting this jealous over someone you’re not fucking anymore.”

“i may not be fucking you, but whether you like it or not, you’re still mine,” suguru drawls as he leans closer to you, licking his lips in warning, “and i’m sure your pussy knows it. so you might want to fix that mouth of yours, sweetness.”

you rolled your eyes at his nickname for you, masking the intense wave of arousal flooding your panties under the guise of annoyance, preferring to not give your ex the satisfaction of seeing how much his presence still affected you. no matter how well your pussy responded to his words - traitor.

“god, suguru, you’re so immature! we’re not together anymore, so chill with that possessive shit and leave me alone!”

you move past him, ignoring the electricity pulsing in your fingertips as you pushed against his sturdy bicep, and went to maneuver your way through the frat party in search for your date. but like you were connected by a tether, suguru tugged you back to him, his large hand splayed against the small of your back as he pressed you against his chest.

you gasped, suddenly feeling every rigid muscle hidden behind the fabric of his shirt, and the prominent bulge growing beneath his belt. the thickness of it served as a reminder of all the times suguru had you drooling, incoherent, and twitching from overstimulation.

…why did you break up again?

“last chance, sweetness,” suguru’s hand moves to palm your ass through your jeans, his grip as vicious as his tone, “fix that attitude.”

what happened next was involuntary - like your pussy overrode your brain, spurred on by a mixture of danger and excitement, and chose your response with the hopes of finally being satisfied after months of neglect. your date and his drinks suddenly long forgotten.

“make me.”

_______________________________________________

you ended up in the back of his tesla model x - folded beneath suguru as he dropped his dick deep into your guts, feeding your pussy consistent, heavy strokes while you clawed at his abdomen like a maniac.

he ignored every single one of your cries, ripping orgasm after orgasm from you with his sight hyper-focused on the creamy ring frothing at the base of his dick as he repeatedly buried himself to the hilt.

“absolutely pathetic,” he hissed as you convulsed around him, your body succumbing to yet another orgasm - this one more violent than the last - which he continued to fuck you through, despite your desperate screams for reprieve.

“s-suguru, please! m’sorry!”

it’s been so long since you felt like this. since he fucked you like this. you were on the verge of a euphoric death, the only thing keeping you tethered to this earthly plane being his hold on you - but even then you were hanging by a thread.

“you’re sorry, hm?” suguru licked his lips as he gripped the back of your knees, spreading your legs wider. “what’re you sorry for, sweetness? for testing me? leaving me?”

you were babbling, your mind far too strung to even formulate a proper response. the best you could do was a mixture of please and sorry amidst your hiccuping sobs. suguru leaned forward, slowing his pace to lick away your tears and plant ginger kisses in their wake. an act so sudden, so gentle for someone who just spent the last hour rearranging your insides.

“it’s okay, baby, i forgive you,” he coos, “y’know why?”

he doesn’t wait for your response. instead, he takes one of your shaky hands and moves it between you, positioning your palm over your navel, where the bulge from his dick was the most prominent.

“‘cause nobody can do this but me.”

#I’ve been listening to this song nonstop #i just HAD to make a fic out of it #smut #jjk #jjk smut #geto suguru #geto smut #getou suguru x reader #geto x reader #anime smut #black reader #black coded characters #black coded reader

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