Aziraphale’s Choice, the Job Connection, and Michael Sheen’s Morality
Update: Michael Sheen liked this post on Twitter, so I'm fairly certain there is a lot of validity to it.
I’ve had time to process Aziraphale’s choice at the end of Season 2. And I think only blaming the religious trauma misses something important in Aziraphale’s character. I think what happened was also Aziraphale’s own conscious choice––as a growth from his trauma, in fact. Hear me out.
Since November 2022 I’ve been haunted by something Michael Sheen said at the MCM London Comic Con. At the Q&A, someone asked him about which fantasy creature he enjoyed playing most and Michael (bless him, truly) veered on a tangent about angels and goodness and how, specifically,
We as a society tend to sort of undervalue goodness. It’s sort of seen as sort of somehow weak and a bit nimby and “oh it’s nice.” And I think to be good takes enormous reserves of courage and stamina. I mean, you have to look the dark in the face to be truly good and to be truly of the light…. The idea that goodness is somehow lesser and less interesting and not as kind of muscular and as passionate and as fierce as evil somehow and darkness, I think is nonsense. The idea of being able to portray an angel, a being of love. I love seeing the things people have put online about angels being ferocious creatures, and I love that. I think that’s a really good representation of what goodness can be, what it should be, I suppose.
I was looking forward to BAMF!Aziraphale all season long, and I think that’s what we got in the end. Remember Neil said that the Job minisode was important for Aziraphale’s story. Remember how Aziraphale sat on that rock and reconciled to himself that he MUST go to Hell, because he lied and thwarted the will of God. He believed that––truly, honestly, with the faith of a child, but the bravery of a soldier.
Aziraphale, a being of love with more goodness than all of Heaven combined, believed he needed to walk through the Gates of Hell because it was the Right Thing to do. (Like Job, he didn’t understand his sin but believed he needed to sacrifice his happiness to do the Right Thing.)
That’s why we saw Aziraphale as a soldier this season: the bookshop battle, the halo. But yes, the ending as well.
Because Aziraphale never wanted to go to Heaven, and he never wanted to go there without Crowley.
But it was Crowley who taught him that he could, even SHOULD, act when his moral heart told him something was wrong. While Crowley was willing to run away and let the world burn, it was Aziraphale (in that bandstand at the end of the world) who stood his ground and said No. We can make a difference. We can save everyone.
And Aziraphale knew he could not give up the ace up his sleeve (his position as an angel) to talk to God and make them see the truth in his heart.
I was messed up by Ineffable Bureaucracy (Boxfly) getting their happy ending when our Ineffable Husbands didn’t, but I see now that them running away served to prove something to Aziraphale. (And I am fully convinced that Gabriel and Beelzebub saw the example of the Ineffables at the Not-pocalypse and took inspiration from them for choosing to ditch their respective sides)
But my point is that Aziraphale saw them, and in some ways, they looked like him and Crowley. And he saw how Gabriel, the biggest bully in Heaven, was also like him in a way (a being capable of love) and also just a child when he wasn’t influenced by the poison of Heaven. Muriel, too, wasn’t a bad person. The Metatron also seemed to have grown more flexible with his morality (from Aziraphale's perspective). Like Earth, Heaven was shades of (light?) gray.
Aziraphale is too good an angel not to believe in hope. Or forgiveness (something he’s very good at it).
Aziraphale has been scarred by Heaven all his life. But with the cracks in Heaven’s armor (cracks he and Crowley helped create), Aziraphale is seeing something else. A chance to change them. They did terrible things to him, but he is better than them, and because of Crowley, he feels ready to face them.
(Will it work? Can Heaven change, institutionally? Probably not, but I can't blame Aziraphale for trying.)
At the cafe, the Metatron said something big was coming in the Great Plan. Aziraphale knows how trapped he had felt when he didn’t have God’s ear the first time something huge happened in the Big Plan. He can’t take a chance again to risk the world by not having a foot in the door of Heaven. That’s why we saw individual human deaths (or the threat of death) so much more this season: Elspeth, Wee Morag, Job’s children, the 1940s magician. Aziraphale almost killed a child when he couldn’t get through to God, and he’s not going through that again.
“We could make a difference.” We could save everyone.
Remember what Michael Sheen said about courage and doing good––and having to “look the dark in the face to be truly good.” That’s what happened when Aziraphale was willing to go to Hell for his actions. That’s what happened when he decided he had to go to Heaven, where he had been abused and belittled and made to feel small. He decided to willingly go into the Lion’s Den, to face his abusers and his anxiety, to make them better so that they would not try to destroy the world again.
Him, just one angel. He needed Crowley to be there with him, to help him be brave, to ask the questions that Heaven needed to hear, to tell them God was wrong. Crowley is the inspiration that drives Aziraphale’s change, Crowley is the engine that fuels Aziraphale’s courage.
But then Crowley tells him that going to Heaven is stupid. That they don’t need Heaven. And he’s right. Aziraphale knows he’s right.
Aziraphale doesn’t need Heaven; Heaven needs him. They just don’t know how much they need him, or how much humanity needs him there, too. (If everyone who ran for office was corrupt, how can the system change?)
Terry Pratchett (in the Discworld book, Small Gods) is scathing of God, organized religion, and the corrupt people religion empowers, but he is sympathetic to the individual who has real, pure faith and a good heart. In fact, the everyman protagonist of Small Gods is a better person than the god he serves, and in the end, he ends up changing the church to be better, more open-minded, and more humanist than god could ever do alone.
Aziraphale is willing to go to the darkest places to do the Right Thing, and Heaven is no exception. When Crowley says that Heaven is toxic, that’s exactly why Aziraphale knows he needs to go there. “You’re exactly is different from my exactly.”
____
In the aftermath of Trump's election in the US, Brexit happened in 2018. Michael Sheen felt compelled to figure out what was going on in his country after this shock. But he was living in Los Angeles with Sarah Silverman at the time, and she also wanted to become more politically active in the US.
Sheen: “I felt a responsibility to do something, but it [meant] coming back [to Britain] – which was difficult for us, because we were very important to each other. But we both acknowledge that each of us had to do what we needed to do.” In the end, they split up and Michael moved back to the UK.
Sometimes doing the Right Thing means sacrificing your own happiness. Sometimes it means going to Hell. Sometimes it means going to Heaven. Sometimes it means losing a relationship.
And that’s why what happened in the end was so difficult for Aziraphale. Because he loves Crowley desperately. He wants to be together. He wanted that kiss for thousands of years. He knows that taking command of Heaven means they would never again have to bow to the demands of a God they couldn’t understand, or run from a Hell who still came after them. They could change the rules of the game.
And he’s still going to do that. But it hurts him that he has to do that alone.
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"S-say it again?" Steve pants, too desperate and on edge as his hips jerk forward uncontrollably. Thrusting in and pulling back sharply, quickly, and shallowly, unable to take it. Too much. So much.
Feelssogood.
Steve's ears burn with the tight, wet sounds that Bucky's cunt makes around his achy, hard cock. It's already pornographic but then the wet, slick noises have to be underscored embarrassingly by the obscene, sharp collision of their naked bodies hitting together--his pelvis pressed flush to Bucky's thick ass. Smack.Smack.Smack.
Oh, God, he can't help it. Fucking forward. Short and desperate thrusts. He can't help it. A whine trips and falls out of his buzzing mouth, kiss-swollen, red, and glistening. The phantom sensation of Bucky's teeth is still imprinted on his flesh, biting his fat lower lip just enough to hurt, forcing his mind to clear so he can listen to the growled instructions Bucky gives him on how he wants to be fucked. Saying the words right into his mouth, making him swallow them, hot and heavy in his belly.
For now, Steve swallows a whimper, the sensation of fucking is too much but he can't stop. He can't stop. He's sensitive but it's too much. Not enough! He, he...
He can't formulate a single fucking thought, he's so caught up in his throbbing, coiled-tight body.
Meanwhile, Bucky sighs pleasantly, content to keep the torture going and ensuring it will by squeezing his thick, strong thighs firmly around Steve's little waist. Holding him between his legs, heaven, like he wants to bruise him, mark him, hold him there, and make him lose his mind inside his molten body, carving deep into him. He knows exactly what he does to Steve and it isn't fucking fair. Steve keens. How is he supposed to function? How is he supposed to not go stupid?
When Bucky doesn't do anything else but grip him with his fucking thighs--Jesus, his thighs--Steve wilts, subcumbing to the crackling, spitting fire inside him, melting his muscles, leaving him weak and trembling as if he's feverish. He is. He's burning up. His head hangs lower, and his lips drag over the side of Bucky's throat, nosing his jaw, his breath humid and thick as he repeats himself, "sssay it again?" Steve begs. His voice is more whine than anything else.
He doesn't mean to be so pathetic, whining, nosing, and humping Bucky like a dumb puppy getting his dick wet for the first time, but he doesn't know what else to do. He needs it! He needs to hear it. It's all he wants. He wants it more than he wants his orgasm at this point. It is an orgasm, that in of itself.
If Bucky would just say it!
He wants it. He wants it so bad he can taste it.
It's not fair--he's drowning in the taste, but he can't indulge. The inferno inside his has reached a fever pitch again and again before Bucky's gotten control over it, suffocating the flames, cooling the heat just enough. Stopping him right on the cusp. Leaving him sweating and shaking but never losing it fully. Catching him just before his eyes roll back into his head--right before release. Now, poor Steve's hypersensitive and ever-burning. So molten that he's gone beyond red-hot to pure white.
Pure heat.
Steve fucks another little sound out of himself, grinding into Bucky's cunt too deep. He's flushed pink and needy all the way to his curling, cramping toes. It aches.
Yet, his hips buck again, jostling Bucky good, his cock battering his prostate like he likes, sending pulsing, electric pleasure through him. Bucky gets pleasure. Bucky gets to cum. Bucky tells him what do to, he orders him around, he owns his dick.
"Pleeeeease!" Steve whines, especially pathetic.
Finally fucking pathetic enough, desperate enough, tears in his eyes, a sob at the back of his throat that Bucky does as he asks. Just this once. But first...
Steve keens when he's blinded, assaulted, by the electric, sparkling sensation of Bucky's fist tightening its grip in his hair, holding right at the base of his neck like he's scruffing him or, oh, fuck, like he's pulling on a leash. It causes his hips to fuck harder, grinding deeper where he's hotter, wetter, tighter. So easy to direct, such an obedient boy.
But-!
Steve needs something to do with his mouth. Steve's out of his fucking mind. Steve doesn't even care that it's embarrassing how he drools and licks and sucks at Bucky's collarbone. It's there and he needs him. He needs his mouth full. He needs more. Moremoremoremore. He really just wants--
Bucky lets it happen.
He groans, "good boyyy," as he's pounded into fervently. God, Steve gets dumb but he knows how to use that big fucking cock.
"A-AH!" Steve cries out, still humping him, "ah, ah, ah-again!" Steve whimpers, his thrusts sloppy and clumsy as he's walked right up to the line. So eager. So close.
"Magic word?" Bucky chuckles, barely avoiding a moan of pleasure. He's so deep inside him that he can feel him in the back of his throat. Jesus.
"'Pluh-please!" Steve slurrs, drunk on the tight clench of his body.
"Good boy," Bucky barely finishes the words--pulling harshly at Steve's hair as he goes faster, harder, deeper--before Steve is losing it completely, curling over top of him, shivering so hard that it's more like convulsions as he empties himself inside him, moaning himself hoarse. He can't help it, digging his fingers into the sheets and mattress as he falls apart. He hears that little bit of praise, and every bit of restraint leaves his puppy.
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