#Aziraphale come do a little miracle please

[ineffably-flynn]

that moment when Aziraphale, wearing his most Miles outfit, his most Miles voice, his most Miles mannerisms, sees the photo that would expose him with his lover… and is able to sleight-of-hand it away so he doesn’t get caught 🥹

hhhhhhhh wait i never even noticed that

[hg-aneh]

Hi,ik I've been asking questions frequently but I'mma do it again bc I'm that petty;

In the AziraCrow relationship/marriage/or whatever. Who do u think is the housewife/husband? 😀

if we're talking about traditional gender roles applied to marriage ((which i believe would NOT apply to them in canon as they're both nonbinary supernatural beings)), i have to preface this by saying that i rlly don't agree with them as a concept

[if ppl choose to engage in them and not judge others for not doing so then good for them (idgaf akfbsjf)]

i hate that they're still being imposed onto people and that they haven't been left in the past for some contexts

i also want to clarify that the following """analysis""" I'm going to make is all for the sake of poking fun at gender roles and satirizing their entire existence.

Having said that, these are my headcanons:

Aziraphale-housewife, Crowley-husband

Why? Simply because husbands are fucking useless and I like to bully Crowley cuz he stinks and he sucks c0ck and b4-

I'm just goofing around 😭

In my little bubble world, they'd be neither (or both if you wanna see it from that POV)

Let's start with this:

If we take the definition of a traditional husband, which is basically "i work and do nothing else cuz I'm a man and men have their mommies i mean wives do everything for them" and take the Work part away, which is what we'd do if we were to place the ineffables in the south downs aka their retirement shack, then you get a useless fuck

And in reality, they both do jackshit (that's the whole premise of s1) so????? does that mean they're both husbands???

For further insight let's try to affirm Aziraphale is the housewife.

Aziraphale bakes, so he's probably a decent cook too; that's "housewife" material. He also happens to be very pretty and plump and a blonde, which I've been told are pretty ladylike things to be (/sarcasm)

(There are no pretty male blondes in ba sing se good omens)

He dresses in light, dainty clothing and talks with an accent only girls and women talk with, as well as getting his nails done and using make up for his magic act, and he says "please" and "thank you", which are things only women do (I'M BEING SARCASTIC. I'M BEING VERY SARCASTIC. god i hate gender rolesAAAA)

Now this is where the comparisons end cuz let's face it, Aziraphale is a lazy fuck.

You KNOW the bookshop smells like mold and he just miracles it clean every now and then.

He'd rather sit his plump (pretty) blond ass on the couch and read the day away than actually get to doing the baking and cooking or caring for the kids (plants) if it's not a hobby activity

Now let's do the opposite and try to affirm Crowley as the housewife.

He's clean (does the cleaning), he's of service when needed, he organizes when he's stressed (read the book), he- he drives a car...

OH SHIT. MAN ACTIVITY!!!!!🤯🤯🤯 (we're still being sarcastic here, it's not over EFJSJF)

In all seriousness though, trying to fit these two into gender roles, even as a joke is kinda difficult even in headcanon-land ajbfsnf

At least that's my opinion

For every traditionally "feminine" thing you have one of them do, the other outdoes that by a mile. And vice versa with the traditionally "masculine" things, like "being useless" and "car" /sarcasm is back.

So which one would be which? I think they're both dumbasses who fight over who gets to do what in the household (neither of them wants to do anything except for cuddling) and come up with an agreement to divide each chore :)

y'know, like normal people in a functional marriage (my parents lol)

[crowleyholmes]

Hello friends, lovers, hereditary enemies, and fellow Good-Omens-brain-rot-afflicted!

Inspired by some lengthy conversations and the need for reassurance regarding a renewal for season 3, the lovely Eena @michaelsheens and I have decided to start a little Project!

(Sorry, Crowley, we had to…)

THE NICE AND ACCURATE PROPHECIES* WEEK

Running from SEPTEMBER 25TH to OCTOBER 1ST, it’s all themed around season 3 and the assumption we’re gonna get that renewal. (Manifesting, baby.)

✨ THE PLAN ✨

Every day will focus on a theme around which everyone who wants to participate is encouraged to create any kind of content they want to! Art, fanfic, edits, playlists, speculation, meta, go nuts!

(Also please don’t worry if something doesn’t fit neatly into a day’s theme; they’re only meant to give somewhat of a prompt and structure. Ultimately it’s not that strict and serious, we just wanna see your stuff :))

✨ HOW TO PARTICIPATE ✨

Share whatever your big heart and massive brain comes up with and use the tag #gomensnaap

(It’s like a long nap or something.)

You’re also welcome to give shoutouts to other people’s work you love and want to celebrate, but please make sure to link and credit properly (!!!)

Most importantly: have fun <3

✨ THEMES ✨

(under the cut)

DAY 1: “And there will be great lamentations.”

Let’s talk the Second Coming! We start off and warm up with everything plot-related. Theories, meta, crack ideas, let’s hear your thoughts on where you think the Big Main Plot is going to go!

DAY 2: “I can make a difference!”

For day two, let’s focus on Aziraphale’s arc in season 3. Did he go to Heaven with a plan? Or is he winging it? (Pun only somewhat intended.) Was he threatened or manipulated or both or neither? Will he tell Heaven just where they can stick it or can he actually succeed? What’s in store for our favorite angel?

DAY 3: “Hated by Heaven, loathed by Hell. How will our hero cope?”

Day three is all about Crowley and what we think he’s going to get up to. Is he going to go drink himself senseless and have a good cry? Go snek and hybernate for a bit? Hang out with Muriel and do some tempting? Does he have a plan and how will he cope being on his own?

DAY 4: “There was magic abroad in the air…”

Let’s talk Ineffable Husbands! How are Crowley and Aziraphale going to resolve things between them? Will there be a massive fight? Radio silence for days/weeks/months/years? Will they learn to Actually COmmunicate? Will there be grudges, grand gestures, secret meetings, a big rescue mission from either side?

DAY 5: “Extreme sanctions.”

On day six we wanna make ourselves anxious, sad and upset. (As one does.) What thing that may or may not happen in season 3 are you most worried about? Dark/depressed/evil/etc Crowley? Memory-wiped/brain-washed/archangel Aziraphale? Book of Life? How could Neil & Co hurt us the most?

DAY 6: “Do you…want a hot chocolate?”

After day 5’s spiral, it’s time for a metaphorical treat. What are you most looking forward to in season 3? What do you really want to see? Headcanons coming true? Scenes you wish for? Things that’ll make you wanna name your cat/dog/fish/insert other pet here Neil Richard Gaiman or Sir Terence David John Pratchett?

DAY 7: “It’s starts, as it will end, with a garden.”

Finally, to finish it all up, let’s speculate about the end of season 3. How do you think we’ll leave this story? Will things just go back to how they’ve always been? Will there be peace? Earth hidden from Heaven and Hell with a big 500 Lazarii miracle? Aziraphale and Crowley turned human? Or will they get their cottage in the South Downs for the rest of eternity?

[strangesthirdeye]

Grumpy Star (Ineffable hubbys x toddler fem! Reader)

Summary: Little Star is not feeling well, what can the two celestial dads do for little Star to return to normal?.

Warning: Ineffable hubbys is everything. No episode 6 allow, sick reader, chicken porridge, cuddle, fluff, love, Aziraphale can cook better than Crowley, sweet, Aziraphale is Papa, Crowley is Daddy, miracle there, miracle here,

As usual, I'm sorry if there are any wrong sentences or typos or grammatical mistakes, please forgive me and again English is not my first language, so I try to improve my language and writing in this way.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Rise and shine, my star. wake up, Papa make your favorite breakfast" Aziraphale chimed as he opened the curtains of your room, letting the sun come in to brighten your room.

You groaned uncomfortably at the interruption of your sleep before pulling the blanket over your face. Hiding your face from the light shining on your warm face. Sweat covering your body as your body seemed to shiver under the blanket. Aziraphale smiled before he took a seat on your bed.

"come on, love. You don't want your dad to finish your favorite pancakes, do you?" Aziraphale said.

You were just silent and still in that position without even looking at Aziraphale. Your body shivered with chill and warmth in your body. Aziraphale frowned at the lack of reaction from you. Usually you would wake up excited as soon as he mentioned your favorite breakfast but now you seemed like you didn't normally do it.

You seem wrong. Aziraphale started holding out his hand to pull your blanket. As soon as his fingers touched and pulled the blanket that covered you, he was shocked when he discovered your condition.

Your face is pale, your body is shaking and full of sweat. You still closed your eyes as your breathing seemed to be panting. Aziraphale's face began to change. He started to touch your head but when his skin touched your dampened skin, he pulled his hand back. Your skin is hot and cold at the same time, that's why you're shivering. Aziraphale began to be concerned with your conditions.

"my dear, you... You are sick" Aziraphale said with great concern.

It is normal for humans if they have a fever but for you who was born with a miracle by two celestial being not to mentioned that you are half demon and half angel, it is quite impossible for you to feel sick.

"just- just hold on, papa will come back to you later, okay?" Aziraphale assured before he rushed out of the door.

Crowley who is sleeping sprawled on the sofa did not notice his husband rushing to the kitchen to retrieve a cloth and a basin filled with water. Aziraphale stopped his walk when he noticed that Crowley was still sleeping after being woken by him a thousand times that morning.

He grumbled and ignored his sleeping demon to go to your room. He opened the door again but this time slowly and with any noise as he knows that you are not in the mood for that. He put the basin filled with water on the table next to your bed before he dipped the cloth into the basin and squeezed it to leave it wet and folded it before placing it on your forehead.

You flinched at the sudden coldness before relaxing and letting the cold seep into your warm skin. You sighed heavily. Even your breath is warm.

Aziraphale rubbed your hair gently. "don't move too much, dear. You must rest to be healthy. I'll tell daddy to bring you medicine while I cook chicken porridge for you"

You grumbled with approval before snuggling into your thick blanket for comfort. Aziraphale sends you a sympathetic look before he gets up and walks downstairs to the kitchen. Before he went to the kitchen, he managed to wake up Crowley, who was still sleeping and didn't think about the world, finally woke up from his slumber. Maybe him being a snake requires a good enough sleep.

"Crowley, I need you to bring medicine to Y/n's room, now while I prepare chicken porridge for her." Aziraphale ordered.

Crowley grunted sleepily. "Ugh.. why would I bring medicine to Star's room? Why do you want to cook chicken porridge? Didn't you make pancakes?"

"the pancakes can wait but Y/n can't. She's sick.. And it's quite rare for an angel or demon to get sick. Let alone half angel and half demon. She's still on the bed and doesn't have the energy to wake up so you go bring medicine for her to eat before I bring chicken porridge to her" Aziraphale strode past Crowley who was still sitting sprawled on the sofa.

Crowley straightened himself from his hunched position. "Star is sick? But that's impossible. Celestial beings never get sick. They are immune to all kinds of diseases and viruses"

"That's what I said earlier, it's quite rare for celestial beings to get sick. I don't know how sick she is but all I know is her body temperature is up. Now go get the medicine and give it to Y/n" Aziraphale ordered as he reached for a medium-sized pot and a soup spatula.

Crowley made a sound as if he was just agreeing to what his husband told him. He stood up and took medicine from the medicine cabinet hanging on the wall next to the kitchen before he moved to your room.

"and don't use miracle! we don't know how sick she got plus I don't want the upstairs to know that we used a miracle to cure her.. I don't want them to know about her.. they will take away my baby" Aziraphale said to Crowley but the last sentence Aziraphale muttered to himself.

Crowley waved his hand as if dismissing what Aziraphale warned him. As soon as he arrived in front of your door, he slowly opened the door of your room and peeking his head to see how you were.

You were snuggling into your thick blanket with folded damp cloth on your forehead. Your eyes are closed so that means you are sleeping but Crowley noticed that your chest is rising up and down very rapidly which makes Crowley worried. He never saw you like this. His Star is always happy and energetic all the time but this time his Star looks very weak and not energetic.

Crowley strode towards you slowly with medicine in his right hand. He didn't want to disturbed your sleep. You need enough rest. He noticed your forehead was wet with sweat. He put the medicine on the table next to your bed and then slowly sat down on the bed next to you. He reached out his hand on your warm cheek.

"Star? hey.. wake up.." Crowley called softly.

You groan tiredly but your eyes still don't open.

"come on, you should take your medicine before anything else happens" Crowley patted your cheeks gently.

"no medicine.. Medicine doesn't taste good" you mumbled tiredly.

Crowley huffed a laugh. "Oh, Y/n..Come on, you should take medicine" he poked your cheek several times trying to wake you up.

You whined in protest then waved your hand to block your dad's hand from your face before opening your eyes. Your eyes are very tired showing that you really have no energy.

Crowley grinned. "there you go"

you started to sit and lean your back on the headboard. You glanced at your dad with extra tiredness and dissatisfaction.

Crowley frowned. "don't make such a face at me, it's your Papa fault who told me to take the medicine. Besides, you have to get up to eat later" Crowley reached for the medicine on the table and opened the lid of the medicine and poured the liquid into the spoon.

You face away from the strong smell of medicine. "nooo"

"just one spoon of medicine and then you can rest" Crowley put the spoon in your mouth.

"noo.. it doesn't taste good" You protested.

"what kind of medicine tastes good? It just tastes bitter and it won't last long.. come on, Star" Crowley said, bringing the spoon closer to your mouth.

You grunted grumpily before opening your mouth and letting Crowley spoon the medicine into your mouth. Immediately a bitter taste was felt in your throat making you grimaced with disgust.

"there, isn't it nice?" Crowley joked.

You whine grumpily before laying back down and facing away from your dad, sulking.

Crowley sighed. "just don't sleep yet, your papa will come up and bring food. You must eat."

You hummed before closing your eyes tiredly. Crowley rubbed your back soothingly. A knock was heard before the door was opened by Aziraphale with a tray of chicken porridge and water in both hands.

He glanced at his husband and daughter with concern. "how is she?"

"just the same" Crowley muttered.

Aziraphale nodded his head then moved to the other side of the bed, facing Crowley. He looked at you worriedly.

"Y/n, dear. Get up and eat.. You have to eat if you want to be well" Aziraphale said while placing the tray of chicken porridge on his lap.

"I don't feel like eating.. " you mumbled.

"Well, you need to eat also to get your energy.. Please" Aziraphale urged you.

"My head hurts" You said.

"i know, my dear.. come on, wake up and eat" Aziraphale said.

Finally, you got up and sat down, leaning heavily on the headboard to support your weak body. Crowley rubbed your hand with comfort.

Aziraphale started to feed you with the chicken porridge from time to time even though you were a bit hesitant to eat because you could feel your body as if it was rejected to eat and would vomit later which thankfully it would not happen.

After just eating and drinking, Aziraphale gave the food tray to Crowley to place on the bedside table where the medicine was placed. You lie back down and close your eyes which leads you to sleep. Aziraphale held your tiny hand and rubbed his thumb on the back of your hand while Crowley held your other hand.

"What do you think, angel? She's being sick?" Crowley glanced at his husband expecting some explanations from him.

"I don't know, Crowley.. it's a bit sudden. She shouldn't be sick. She's literally immune to everything" Aziraphale replied as he looked at you with concern.

Crowley sighed. "whatever it is, she will be okay and not sick anymore"

Aziraphale nodded. "yes.."

The two partners start to be quiet as they don't want to disturb you anymore, their eyes still on you in case you suddenly feel uncomfortable and need them, they will be by your side. But eventually, Aziraphale needs to go downstairs and wash the bowl of porridge and the glass he brought earlier. He told Crowley to pass the tray of food placed on the table next to him which Crowley obeyed but then stopped suddenly.

Aziraphale looked at Crowley confused. "Crowley?"

"Angel.. " Crowley called, eyes still on the food tray.

"yes? what's wrong?" Aziraphale began to worry.

"I think I know why Star is sick" Crowley began to lift the food tray and show it to her husband.

Aziraphale gaped at the sight of a clean bowl and glass that had absolutely no leftover food. Everything is clean as if it had just been washed. clean and shiny bowls, spoons and glass.

"that's.. she-" Aziraphale tried to make an assumption. "You don't use miracle right?"

"no.. you?" Crowley asked

Aziraphale shook his head. "no"

"I think, Star is sick because she finally got her first miracle" Crowley said then looked at you impressed.

"That's why she suddenly got sick" Aziraphale beamed excitedly.

"ahh, this is great.. Star finally got her first miracle" Crowley cheered lowly as he didn't want to disturb your sleep.

"i know.. ohh, I'm so proud of her, Crowley.. Our baby has grown up" Aziraphale beamed.

"does that mean I can take her in the Bentley with me?" Crowley suddenly asked.

"No" Aziraphale replied.

"wha- why? you said before that not until she got her first miracle.. Now she has got her first miracle! Don't let me start that her age is not enough because she is three years old now." Crowley protested.

"But the way you drive the Bentley is dangerous" Aziraphale said.

"I'm not that crazy to drive a Bentley at high speed with a toddler in the Bentley" Crowley argued.

"Fine you can take her" Aziraphale gave in.

Crowley smirked with victory

"well, I love you, Angel"

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. "I love you too, Crowley"

[melbatron5000]

Wild theory, hold on.

(Please do not take any of my theories to Neil himself! Don't do it!)

I've already hypothesized that Crowley and Aziraphale have been working on a plan since Armaggedidn't in season 1. Here's where I go off the rails a little bit. Come along.

Saraqael is part of the plan. She's in on it.

I have only hints and suspicions, not too much for Clues, but hear me out.

In this post, we see a weird movement between buildings behind Shax. Almost like . . . a person in a floating wheelchair coming around the corner? And Crowley is in his spy turtleneck. He's doing something spyish. Meeting an angel he's not supposed to have a connection to, perhaps? About something that maybe interests both of them? Like, not having a second end of the world?

And in this post, we see that Saraqael has opened a spy porthole onto the book shop -- but the picture in the apy porthole is in 2019.

I do not think for a moment that tiny, weenie half-a-miracle-each accidentally blew up into a 25 lazarii miracle. I think someone else at around the same time did a huge miracle, someone powerful, someone who no one is supposed to know about -- or at least, doing something no one is supposed to know about -- and Saraqael hid it the best she could.

Show the arc angels the book shop when Adam reset it. You know, after it burned in 2019. That would be some crazy big miracle energy.

Then go to Earth with the arc angels and nudge Aziraphale into taking responsibility for the miracle. He's good at lying to them, after all, he can come up with something quick. And who is it that says, "Don't tell me you did it?" Why, sarcastic Saraqael. Translation, "tell them you did it, or we're screwed." And Aziraphale jumps right in and says yes, I did that.

Then send someone who won't give back good reports to verify the miracle. Saraqael, why would you send Muriel? Muriel is so sweet and naive, she won't come up with anything she shouldn't.

Then when Crowley is searching around in Heaven, who does he run into but his (doesn't exist) contact? And she tries to give him a reason to recognize her, they worked on the Horsehead nebula together. And he laughs and says, I meet a lot of people. He doesn't need her cover story, he'll just play dumb. She kind of snorts and shakes her head, she tried to give him an out but he took his own way. Headstrong demon.

When the Metatron shows up, who recognizes him? No one but Crowley and Saraqael. Could be because they just watched the trial, could be because they've been actively working together against him for years now. Hard to say. Hard to say. I honestly didn't recognize him in a full human form for a hot minute, it's not like it's impossible to imagine no one would know him. But those two do. Feels important to me.

I don't know if I'm right, but I'm suspicious now. What are they hiding? Who was doing a big miracle that needed covering up? Whatever was the miracle for?

Also, this. More evidence. They are up to something.

[aziraphales-library]

Hello, thank you for all the work you're doing! You're truly incredible! I have read through pretty much all of the hurt/comfort and protective!crowley/aziraphale fic I could find and I was wondering if you had any recommendations where one of them is only slightly hurt (or anything that isn't full on whump) and the other gets really overprotective and/or takes care of them

(no worries if not!)

We really appreciate all the work and effort you put into this blog! Thank you, you are life saviours

Hi! Here are some minor hurt/non-whump hurt and protective fics for you...

Of Rosaries and Burnt Palms by midnightdragons (G)

"Guh, shit, fuck," Crowley swore, clearly attempting to miracle the burn away but to no avail. He looked up at Aziraphale, who was frozen in shock and dismay, and his golden eyes, for once uncovered by his sunglasses, were so — so distraught, so full of distress and pain and betrayal, and — and did he think there was a chance that Aziraphale — that the angel had —? Aziraphale wears a rosary round the bookshop, and does not think of the consequences.

Safe and Sound by AmyPound (T)

Aziraphale enjoys a refreshing walk home from a new Thai restaurant but faces confrontation. Luckily Crowley's protect Aziraphale sense is always working.

Watching Over You by EdosianOrchids901 (T)

Aziraphale is relaxing in Rome when he spots a disoriented Crowley. He saves the demon from nearly being run over by a cart, then realizes Crowley has been drugged. Worried, he takes his friend somewhere safe and watches over him.

Hell in a Handbasket by SaunterVaguelyDownward (T)

“I’m leaving, thanks for the wine.” Aziraphale blanched. “Crowley! Please. The last time we argued it almost led to the apocalypse and the time before that I didn’t see you for over one hundred years.” “And whose bloody fault were both of those?” he snapped. Aziraphale froze. “Mine, dear boy,” the angel replied simply and sincerely. He inhaled deeply, gathering himself. “Which is why I refuse to let it happen again.” His eyes were pleading, his expression serious as he reached out slowly and let his hand land gently on Crowley’s shoulder. The demon flinched and Aziraphale recoiled, his face filled with hurt. Crowley’s jaw clenched. “Well, maybe it’s my turn to be unreasonable.” In which the only way Crowley can be saved from a demonic curse is if his angel admits feelings of true love. But there's no way Aziraphale could ever possibly feel that way about Crowley...

This Time, The Princess Does the Rescuing by die_traumerei (E)

Crowley does not like horses. Horses do not like Crowley. But when Aziraphale's mount comes back without her long after she should have been home for a camping trip, there's no question of Crowley going out to find her and bringing her home. (In which Crowley rescues Aziraphale -- of course -- and brings her home. Featuring a lot of worried princess, a little bit of hurt, a ton of comfort, a touch of sick!fic and lots of conversation while they're both confined to bed. The same bed, needless to say.)

a moment's silence by viperinz (T)

Crowley rubs a hand down his face, sighing. “Then you know that you shouldn’t have done that.” “It was the only choice I had. If you got smitten—” Aziraphale swallows, feeling his back throb in pain. “You would have died right where you stood. I could not allow that.” Crowley’s mouth turns into a thin line, his fury radiating through the room. “So, what? It was better if it was you rather than me that took the hit?” “Yes!” Aziraphale exclaims, sitting up in bed. He winces as his back protests the movement, but he needs Crowley to understand. “You deserve better than what I was able to ever give you, and you need to help Muriel and the Messiah. If I ceased to exist, nothing would change the outcome of stopping all of this.” “No, you don’t get to say that.” Crowley walks up to the bed. “If you think I’ll ever stand to lose you again, then you’re bloody wrong. The outcome would be different because I wouldn’t have you, you daft thing.”

After everything is said and done, Aziraphale has to learn to adjust to life on Earth after seven years of being in Heaven. Luckily, Crowley is there to help him heal, and to give him the love that he feels he's lost.

- Mod D

[noneorother]

The secret timeline inside of Good Omens season 2 revealed, *part2*

Part 1 l Part 2

The ineffable cut is explained in part 1. Please read that first. (I’ve burnt a timecode into this ineffable edit to help pick up the rhythm.)

So now that I've shown you XX:X6 is the number of the beast in the last installment, what else can we glean? Well, it turns out angel numbers (sequences of repeated numbers ex: 22:22 or 20:02) are quite important events in the S2 universe! I've cut together every "Angel Number" I could find in the timeline and put them in order. I first noticed this near the end of the ineffable cut, where Beelzebub and Gabriel hold hands, so I've started with that one just to give you an idea how bonkers this whole sequence is. Don't forget, sound on! Breakdown below the cut.

So we start off with this Beez and Gabriel sequence near the end of the cut. They start singing to each other a little out of time, but lo and behold, at 02:03:20 the music comes in right on time with the seconds ticking by to line them up. By the time they reach 03:33 they're gone.

Aziraphale is excited to get his "record"! He's doing something sneaky, and as a result opens the door to go off to said covert activity on 00:02:22.

Crowley asks "Do they know?" on 03:33. Who are they and why does he want to know? This whole scene is on a St-James park bench so spying and double speak is in progress, clearly.

Crowley then asks "Something big?" on 00:04:44. We get the hint for the main action of the entire second season here. Something's up with the up...

Now the real fun begins! I'll come back to the ones I just skipped in a later post because they're more subtle. Here's the first "real" angel number at 11:11. Aziraphale discovers THE box and touches it for the first time.

At 22:22 Nina and Maggie's signs are "mysteriously" ignored by a human passerby.

This is wild. Aziraphale is learning about the Everyday record and something funny happens. 33:31 Aziraphale says, " Do you have a copy?" 33:32 Maggie says, "Mm, too many of them" and at the same time a car horn beeps twice. 33:33 Aziraphale is startled by the fact that a double car horn happened on a XX:X2 and looks out the window in concern. So the question is: does Aziraphale feel or know the rhythm of the timestamps?? And are things that line up with numbers a signal he's paying attention to?

A funny one! At 44:44 Aziraphale seems to be wanting to check if Gabriel is really who he says he is, and is watching him like a hawk. Gabriel does all he can to do nothing at all and look innocent while the angel number passes by.

Another funny one. Nice. 55:55 reveals that the Bentley likes Aziraphale more than Crowley, and does whatever he wants, including not speeding when he puts his foot down.

This next one's a little peculiar. It seems like an exchange about Gabriel's whereabouts, but it's the halfway point of the edit (1:11:10-11:11:11) of the ineffable timeline and we seem to be having two conversations at once. Shax says on 11:11 "He hates you." Does she mean that she thinks Crowley hates Aziraphale, or... that Gabriel hates Aziraphale. Aziraphale looks noticeably shocked at her reply. After the eyebrow raise of "You don't seem like his type at all" I would bet we're not talking about Crowley anymore. How did she get this information?

01:22:22 Gabriel does a little laugh to himself while signalling with the lamp. What the fuck? Does someone know morse code?

01:33:33 Maggie extends her had to Nina at the ball, to invite her to dance. Nina looks pleased, but doesn't move until... a very odd miracle sound on a XX:X6 happens and she jumps up to take Maggie's hand. That miracle sound is not Aziraphale's, and besides, he would never miracle on a 6. Who's the demon making Nina dance...

Aziraphale's halo toss is the flip from ACT II to ACT III of season 2, and as such, get's a special time right before rolling over to the second hour. He decides to throw it down on exactly 01:54:45, and at 01:54:54 gets a giant tubular bell ring in the music to highlight the action. It lands on the ground at 01:55:01, and incinerates the demons at precisely 01:55:10.

01:59:59 Beez and Gabriel hold hands, and a magical chime sounds at 2:00:00. Maggie start her sentence "Aww, that's really sweet" at the same time, and manages to finish it on 2:00:02. (Dagon politely waits to pretend to barf on a XX:X3 after she's done.)

The last one is a big one : 02:02:02 gets "to face CELESTIAL punishment" by Michael. This is what we've been waiting for the entire season, the Checkov's gun of the book of life. But, where is it? We then get an odd cowboy showdown style stare-off between Michael and Shax. I'm predicting that missing chunk of time in the bookshop before we come back to Michael threatening Aziraphale with the book of life is going to be a pretty interesting reveal in season 3. -------------------------------------------

People, this is the short version of this post. There are SO MANY things to unpack. Next up is doubled numbers. If you want an ides of what it takes to break things down, here's my workflow timeline right now. The stuff after the first big space is numbers I haven't shown you yet... This show is insane.

[filmtv2022]

It's Our History

Pairing: Aziraphale x Reader x Crowley

Synopsis: After the death of your mother, you find your way to a quaint little bookstore in search of a book that had been left in the care of one Mr. A.Z. Fell and Anthony J. Crowley. But it isn't just about a book, it's about finally meeting the beautiful 'people' that had interwoven themselves in to the lives of your mother and grandmother all those years ago. 

Warnings: Mentions of death 

A/N. As always, I apologize for any mistakes.

Aziraphale sat perched behind his desk, glasses slung low on his nose as he scanned over the detailed manuscript in front of him. The pages were yellowed with age, and yet the intricate illuminations were still beautiful and brilliant. It had been hours since the angel had started his investigation of the newest addition to his vast collection. Pages of documentation were taken in fine handwriting noting every nick and tear. The list of books for Zirah to fix grew longer by the day, but with all of eternity on his hands, the earthly angel couldn’t care less. Crowley on the other hand was growing impatient. This morning he’d been promised a lovely meal at the Ritz… as soon as Aziraphale was finished. With the hand on the clock striking two, he’d had more than enough waiting for one day. The demon was nearly to the point of conducting some frivolous miracles to hurry the process along when the door to the shop opened. The wood creaked on its hinges begging for attention. 

Lost in his work, Aziraphale didn’t seem to notice that someone new had come to visit, leaving Crowley unexpectedly in charge of dealing with this interaction. Already in a pissy mood, the demon spat a ‘greeting’, if you could even call it that, in your direction.

“Whatever you want it’ll have to wait, shop’s closed.” 

“Oh… I’m sorry. The sign out front says open, so I thought…” 

“Well, you thought wrong.” 

“Again, so sorry.” your eyes flicked to the blonde-haired man sitting across the room, “Didn’t mean to intrude. I’ll be going now.”

Looking back at the thin, dark man standing guard like a watchdog, you couldn’t help but notice how he inched closer to the desk when you glanced in their direction. It was as if he was preparing himself to pronounce, cautioning anyone against getting too close. 

“Bye now.” Sarcasm and hostility dripped from him as he spoke.

“Uhh, bye then.” With a tiny wave, you turned away defeated, and started back toward the door, when a new voice stopped you in your tracks. 

“Crowley, that is no way to talk to a customer. Please dear, do stay and have a look around.” 

Turning back, your eyes caught on the equally beautiful man standing next to the person who you now understood to be Crowley. They were both just as you’d pictured, as if a day hadn’t passed since those photos had been taken. In awe and disbelief, your voice was quiet with the enormity of the pair, “I don’t want to be a bother, it’s just that I could really use your help.”

“Don’t be silly, you’re no bother at all. And please, forgive my friend, they're in quite the mood this morning.” 

“It’s not morning anymore, Angel,” hissed Crowley grumpily. 

“Don’t be dramatic dear.” 

“They’re right you know? It’s past two.” 

“Really? Why goodness,” slipping out his pocket watch, he studied the time briefly before returning it to its home, “Would you look at that? My how time flies when you’re having fun!” 

The Crowley grumbled lowly under his breath in response, but his protestations went unnoticed (or rather ignored) by Aziraphale.

“Now, what is it that you are looking for? Oh, and forgive me, I’ve been quite rude myself. Dithering on and never introducing myself, I’m Aziraphale or Mr. Fell if you prefer.” 

“Well, uh… it’s very nice to finally meet you, Mr. Fell. And I’m looking for a copy of Pride and Prejudice. Well, it’s not really Pride & Prejudice, it just looks like it.” 

Ignoring the odd bit of your thought at the end, Aziraphale’s eyes lit up with unadulterated joy, “How fantastic! Tell me more about this edition you’re in search of. Is there a particular year or publishing house you’re looking for?”

“No, nothing like that,” a sadness crept in, pulling your mouth into a frown, and forcing your eyes to the ground, “It was my was my grandmother’s and then my mother’s.”

“And you think it ended up here?” 

“Yes, I do.”

“You seem rather sure of it being here, may I inquire as to why?” 

“She left me a note before she… it told me to come here, to talk to you. You and Mr. Crowley.” 

They stood shoulder to shoulder, close enough that their knuckles brushed together, staring back at you, their minds turning a mile a minute. They scanned over your features taking note of every minute detail, but it was the look in your eyes that finally helped them understand. Their hearts raced with the sudden realization.

It was Crowley who spoke first, his voice barely more than a whisper, “You can’t be… if you’re here that means…” 

“But she is here darling. And I can see it now, the resemblance, just look at her eyes.” 

Standing there you found yourself mesmerized by the pair of them. You’d seen the pictures… heard the stories you’re entire life. The incredible tales of Mr. Fell and Anthony J. Crowley, and yet it seemed impossible that they were both standing before you now. Aziraphale took a few steps in your direction. Crossing the room in a few strong strides, he planted himself in front of you. His hand came up to cradle your cheek, tears pooled in your eyes as he tilted your face up to see you better. 

“It’s so good to finally meet you. We’ve heard so much about you.” 

Your palms came up to rest on his creamed-colored jacket, the material soft with wear beneath your touch. Your nose burned as you fought to hold back the tears that blurred your vision. You didn’t want to look away for even a second for fear they may disappear entirely, “Same goes for you, Mr. Fell. I’ve heard about you all my life. I didn’t think you were actually real, but my god am I glad you are.” 

Azirphale’s strong arms, pulled you in allowing you to bury your face in his chest as the tears finally began to flow. Tenderly, he stroked your back and whispered words of comfort against your temple. Overwhelmed by emotion, you failed to hear the sound of footsteps coming in your direction. Crowley moved stealthily toward you and his Angel wanting nothing more than to comfort you both and seek that same in return. If you were here that could only mean one thing, the marvelous woman who was your mother was gone. He’d only just come to terms with the fact that both your gran and mother were mortal beings and that no matter how much he wished it away, there was an expiration date to their time on Earth. Logically, he knew it was going to happen, human life is fleeting at best, and yet he found himself growing angry that her time here was over. 

Crowley’s wide palm found its way to your back in a weak attempt at grabbing your attention. He needed to see you, to look in your eyes again. Watching him silently ask for you, Aziraphale adjusted his hold on your body so that you could lift your head and look at his Demon. Relinquishing your hold on Mr. Fell, you turned just enough to look at Crowley who was staring down at you through the dark glass of his shades.

“You're lovely,” gingerly, he tucked errant strands of hair behind your ear. His fingertips brushed feather-light touches over your cheekbones. His touch was nearly imperceptible, but your breath hitched at the warmth that radiated from his skin.

Wet lines spilled from beneath his sunglasses, and the corners of his mouth turned down, “You look…” he choked out. 

Reaching up, you wiped away the tears. Unwilling to let go, you found yourself toying with the bows of his glasses, “Can… can I see you…” Glancing back at Mr. Fell your breath shuddered, “Who you really are… the way they both got to see you?” 

You searched their faces for any sign of an answer. You thought that reading the angel would be easier, but he remained straight-faced, the only emotion gracing his features was that of anticipation as if he too was waiting for an answer.

Crowley’s decision came without words, his hand ran the length of your arm before settling around your wrist and guiding it back to his glasses. Letting go once your hand was in place, his chest rose and fell rapidly waiting for you to move. You took your time, ghosting over the cool metal, giving yourself the space to find the courage. 

“It’s all right dear, you have nothing to be afraid of.” Aziraphale’s voice was low and calm as he encouraged you to take the next step.

Shaking, you carefully removed the barrier between yourself and Crowley. His yellow eyes were on yours, never faltering, strong and terrified in equal measure. Lost in thought, you remained quiet, your fingers mapping over his features. Tracing the outline of his lips, the plane of his nose, the curve of his brow, the silky strands of hair that hung down over his forehead. 

“The pictures didn’t do you justice. You’re beautiful, Crowley.” Totally in awe, you couldn’t tear your focus away from the demon in front of you. Hearing your words, his shoulders dropped, the tension starting to fall away. 

Crowley looked over your shoulder at Aziraphale, the two sharing a moment. Behind you came a soft rustle and a gust of wind. Using his hands, which had found your waist, the demon turned you to face Aziraphale, and what you saw ripped the air from your lungs. The angel stood glowing, a halo of warm light surrounding him, but that wasn’t the true shock. That came from his wings. Zirah’s wings were all-consuming, their bright white feathers beckoned you closer.

Stepping toward him, your hands shot out, eager to feel and yet still hesitant. Looking up at Aziraphale, there was no need to speak as your question was obvious. 

“It’s okay. You can touch them if you want.” 

Slowly you found yourself outlining the shape of his feathers, paying attention to every detail. Unbeknownst to you, his head tipped back and his eyes shut tight. Feelin them soft like silk, and entirely intoxicating, you impulsively sought more. Burying your fingers in the depths of the layers, you were surprised to hear a strangled noise fall from Aziraphale’s lips. 

“I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” Startling back, you worried that you’d inflicted pain, but looking up at the being in front of you a mask of pure bliss graced his angelic features. His eyes popped open at the loss of your touch. 

“No, quite the opposite my dear. And It's me who should be apologizing, I forgot myself there for a moment.” 

Reaching for your hand, he guided you back to his wings, encouraging you to continue. And you did until, the same sound as before, a flutter and gust of wind, caught your attention from Crowley’s direction. Keeping your hold on the angel, you turned your head to look behind you. Again, your lungs shuddered at the sight. Onyx wings now protruded from the demon’s back blocking out the world around him. Though utterly opposite, they were no less beautiful. Crowley reached for you again, his hands instantly found the curve of your waist and drew you closer. Stumbling slightly, he caught you easily, holding you to him as if he couldn’t believe you were real. Raking over your sides, the demon came to hold your face to him, much like Aziraphale had. Yet, there was something different playing over his features. 

“She’s gone then?” 

Unable to speak you nodded your head in affirmation. Fresh tears ran in steady streams down your cheeks, blurring the sight of the stunning creature in front of you. Crowley pulled you tight, his fingers burying themselves in your hair as you tugged at his vest, twisting the fabric in your fists. Heavy sobs wracked your body leaving you with nothing to do but cling to him.

Leaning down he whispered to you the only thing he could think of, the only truth he could be certain of, “You’re safe here with us. I promise. You're not alone.” 

Leaving you and his demon to have a private moment together, Aziraphale went to find the book. It took less than a minute as it was stored in a safe location away from the prying eyes of the public. Returning to you both, he tapped Crowley’s shoulder to get his attention. Feeling him pull away slightly, you followed in turn. 

“Is that it?” you asked in disbelief.

“Yes, and you were right, it isn't really a book. It’s…” Aziraphale paused as if uncertain about how to proceed. 

Seeing his Angel struggle, Crowley took the book from his hands and gave it to you before speaking, “It’s the story of us. Aziraphale, myself, and your family. It’s our history.” 

“You see, we’re connected, and we have been for… a very long time.” Zirah found his voice again though it was shaky as he talked.

“But I don’t understand. Why us? We’re just humans, surely we can’t be that important.”

“Ah, but see that’s where you’re wrong. That is precisely why you’re important. Your grandmother and your mother… they treated us kindly when the rest of the world couldn’t see beyond our differences, and for that… we’ll forever be in their debt. And beyond their kindness, your names… they’re written into the Ineffable Plan of the Universe. Yours in particular.” 

“What? What does that even mean?” shocked you searched for a better question, something that got to the heart of your confusion, but nothing surfaced. 

“It means that you… we… have grand adventures ahead. If you’ll join us that is.” Aziraphale's sweet eyes watched you closely waiting for the panic and fear to set in.

“Hold on, Ineffable Plan? You mean like ‘God’s” plan?” Zirah nodded in affirmation, “Didn’t think he was big on free will…”

Your off-hand comment brought a chuckle from the demon as he spoke, “Oh, I like her.” 

“Please, Crowley, be serious.” 

“All right, Angel. They’re all yours.” 

Aziraphale placed a hand on your back to lead you across the room toward the chairs near their desk. Guiding you to sit, he made his way to the other. Crowley perched on the arm of Zirah’s chair and waited for him to continue. 

“Now, where do we begin?” Zirah’s eye flickered up to Crowley with a smile.

“I know… let's start at the very beginning. A very good place to start.” Crowley smirked at his Angel loving his reaction to what had become a running joke after averting the Apocalypse. 

“Oh for the love of all that is good, do NOT start quoting The Sound of Music.” 

Aziraphale and Crowley couldn’t help, but share a quiet laugh together. Nothing like a generational dislike for The Sound of Music to bring everyone together even in the most harrowing of times. 

[sherashalala]

Muriel had been doing what they always do best: Organizing. As a Scrivener of the 37th class, Muriel has a lot of experience with organizing, especially since everyone up there always loves it when things are neat and orderly and has no signs of anyone going through it. 

Everything looks the same, and everything, even the labels, are by memory. Nothing is different between shelves. 

This, however, is such a wonder. Colorful, and so diverse, like the Humans are, and how the Angels in Heaven had tried to be. After everyone figured that She loved the humans so much more than she did her Angels, it became all the craze, to take their Form and cherish it just as She had– and the Demons were a mockery of Her design.

However, these books were not by Her design. At least, not directly. These are by the hands of so many different humans.

Muriel radiates Love into every piece of parchment they touch, and makes sure that an equal amount of care and a good dose of miracles are doused on every page to keep it fresh and crisp for when Aziraphale comes back– and for when Crowley decides to visit.

Neither of which has happened for the past six months, which makes this place… rather lonely.

Still, Muriel is an Angel, and she has lots of Love to give.

Their daily routine of rearranging all the books in the bookshop from A to Z and sometimes spicing it up with Z to A is cut off by a sudden sound behind them. They jump, and admittedly they yelp, when the sound echoes at the door and even rings the bell a little.

Muriel approaches the door, and opens it, only to see a Demon at the other side. “Hello! Might I come in? Just a regular check up to make sure the coast is clear of the demon Crowley!” He says in a chipper tone, waving his hands at Muriel.

They blink. “Oh, uhm, I’m not supposed to be welcoming people willy nilly into the bookshop, sorry!” Muriel says with a polite grimace.

“Ah! No that’s perfectly alright,” They wave their hand placatingly at Muriel. “Just need your word that you haven’t seen the guy in a good while now. Also your name, for documentation purposes.”

Muriel smiles. “Ah! Yes. I’m Muriel.” Then they blink. “My word?”

“Well of course! You’re an Angel, Angels don’t lie.”

Muriel blinks, “Oh, oh yes thank you. You’re quite right about that!” Muriel clears their throat. “Well, Demon–” they blink, “Sorry what was your name again?”

“Eric. Eric the Disposable Demon.” He tells them.

They frown. “That’s not very nice.”

“Well it’s true! Pretty disposable.” They pat their chest, “And Proud!”

“Ah, right. Sorry, Pride is not one of my strong suits!”

Eric nods. “Of course, you’re an Angel after all.” Eric laughs. “Now, uhm, word please?”

“Ah! Yes, of course.” Muriel clears their throat. “Disposable Demon Eric,” Muriel says in a booming voice. “This Embassy of Heaven is Clear of any Threat– there has been no signs of the Demon Crowley in months now!” They announce.

The demon nods. “Great! Terrible meeting you.” He waves, and steps back.

“Wonderful meeting you Eric!” Muriel says, and shuts the door.

[bird-slayer-brainrot]

Soldier On, Come Down - Chpt. 1. - - Ineffable Husbands WW2 au human!Crowley angel!Aziraphale angst multi-chapter

(TW this chapter contains light gore (st*bbing so that bit will be marked with the first and final world in red text)

London, 1939

Aziraphale, Principality and Angel of the Eastern Gate of the Garden of Eden, loved humans.

He had lived amongst humans since his assignment on Eden had ended, and he quite enjoyed his role as Heaven’s official ambassador to humanity. It had been a shock to receive such a coveted position (as much as Angels could covet, anyway).

The job had its downsides, like any, but for the most part, Aziraphale could overlook these. The books, food, wine and art made it worth it.

Humans were amazingly clever creatures, with a knack for imagining purposeful, advanced creations to Angel in Heaven could have ever dreamed of, if they did dream. They were masterful artists, poets, writers, inventors. Aziraphale, nearly six thousand years into this extended assignment, stood in awe at the inventions of the human race.

The motorcar, however, was an exception.

On a Saturday evening in Soho, Aziraphale was particularly bothered. He had plans to attend an Opera at the West End. These plans were interrupted when the driver had stopped him miles from the theatre. It was drizzling, as it often did in London lately, and Aziraphale crowded himself underneath a canopy to avoid getting soaked.

Aziraphale could have miracled the driver to take him to the right language, but with the state of England and the war going on, he felt it was best to cut down on miracle usage just in case he needed them for something important, which he probably would. And he didn’t want to risk Heaven the memo from heaven about too many frivolous miracles.

“Are you going in?” a voice spoke beside him. Aziraphale turned, ready to offer his apologises

He hadn’t realised he had been standing in the entrance way to a storefront.

But he was stuck on the words as he came face to face with the man.

He was perhaps the most beautiful person Aziraphale had ever laid eyes on.

Aziraphale was still staring when the stranger cleared his throat.

“Oh, my apologies.” Aziraphale said too loudly. The gentlemen was dressed in black and grey, which would have struck Aziraphale as unusual if, immediately after, Aziraphale noticed his striking copper hair. He wore it longer than was the fashion. He was also very tall, and slender. He held a black umbrella that he seemed to be in the process of wringing out his umbrella before he’d noticed Aziraphale.

“Are you alright?” the gentlemen said with concern. Aziraphale was still staring, so he tore his gaze from the gentlemen’s face.

“No. Yes. I mean.” Aziraphale stuttered. “I just got caught in the rain.”

The man nodded, the small smile still on his face, then he held out his umbrella.

“Would you like to borrow mine?” he said without hesitation.  Aziraphale looked up him again ready to insist he was fine, but stopped when he noticed his eyes.

They were the colour of liquid gold, except for the ring of green surrounding his pupils. It was deep, Earthy green Aziraphale last recalled seeing in the Garden back when he’d first received this assignment.

“No. No thank you.” Aziraphale said softly. “I think I should like to stay here.”

*

My Dear Anthony,

I hope by the time this letter reaches you in England that you and Anathema will be quite settled in, with Annie at university and you doing your things (I must confess, I don’t quite recall the word you used to describe your profession. It may come to me one day.)

I must admit, dear brother, that although you grumble when I express sentiments to you, that I will miss you terrible when you return to England. There shall be a Crowley-shaped hole in my heart, I should think, for a long time till come. Please do come back and visit us in California.

Thank you for taking care of Anathema. It has always been her dream to attend Oxford. Do you remember when she was a little girl, with her book on magic and fairytales? She’d take it with her everywhere.

She can be quite stubborn at times, but she is a remarkable young woman, and I know that, under your guidance, my dear Annie will be something great. Please give her my love.

Take care of yourself.

Your Loving Sister,

Lucy

-

Crowley smiled down at the letter from his sister. He would never admit it, of course, but he missed his sister terribly. California, too, with its bright, sunny weather. The rain and fog of London coloured the world bleak in comparison.

Crowley had been back in London for a month. Anathema, his niece, was due to start at Oxford, once she got her acceptance, in three months.

She was a standout in stuffy old England, with her American wardrobe, accent, and mannerisms. She stood out in LA, too. She’d spent the days

Crowley had an apartment in Soho that he’d rented out in the year he’d been in America. The death of Lucy’s husband and Anathema’s father had hit their family hard. With their pieces stitched haphazardously back together, Anathema had decided that Oxford was her calling. England was a fresh start, and Crowley had to return at some point. Her mother had, after some convincing, agreed.

He was meant to meet Anathema for dinner that evening at the pub they frequented later on. With nothing else to do, Crowley decided a walk and some fresh air would do him some good, and stepped out into the English rain.

*

The Drooping Donkey had all the grace of a typical Soho bar on a Saturday evening. There was a group of soldiers crowded around a pretty young woman playing the piano, a lively war-tune Aziraphale recalled hearing over the radio on the BBC earlier that morning when he was rearranging his Atlas collection. They nursed warming bears. Chatty patrons took up the tables. There was luckily one spare (Aziraphale may have the ability to have any table he wished to, however he believed in ethical use of miracles) and, after ordering a glass of the house red, Aziraphale made his way over to it and took a seat, content to wait out the storm before going home.

When Aziraphale looked up, he made eye contact with the red-haired gentlemen from earlier. He was alone at the bar, and when Aziraphale looked at him, he did something completely surprising. He smiled.

An hour later, Aziraphale was still recounting the event in self-pity. He could leave now, as the handsome stranger had left. In truth, he’d been too shocked by the gentlemen (who had, upon meeting him, offered him his own umbrella?) and had been unable to use his brain. He had no choice but to enter the bar after the gentlemen, who had held the door out for Aziraphale. Even now, Aziraphale replayed the memory of that brief, awkward interaction over and over in his head. It was pointless. It wasn’t like Aziraphale would ever see him again. He was a human. A handsome, kind human. Still, he had appreciated that small show of kindness. It left a warm feeling in Aziraphale’s chest. The war was getting to him.  

It was dark outside by the time Aziraphale exited The Drooping Donkey. The rain had cleared and, while the street maintained most of the business of a typical Soho Saturday, the sidewalk was mostly deserted. That’s why, when Aziraphale heard a noise like a group of hushed voices and a loud banging sound, he immediately rushed to the source.

The redhead man from the bar laid crumbled against the wall of a deserted alley. He was bundled behind bags of rubbish. Aziraphale hurried over to him, kneeling down to see better and miracleing a source of light. Aziraphale’s checked that the man was still breathing first, which he was, but was barely conscious. In the light, Aziraphale could see immediately that he had multiple injuries. His face was bruised, and his knuckles and hands were red. Then, Aziraphale spotted the spreading red across his stomach. Just below it, there was a knife.

It lay discarded in the wet, tossed carelessly, as though it had not just killed a man.

The stranger groaned as Aziraphale lifted the fabric away from the knife wound to locate the stab wound. It didn’t take long to find it. Blood gushed down the man’s abdomen from the puncture, and bile threatened to rise in Aziraphale’s throat as he realised that the kind stranger likely wouldn’t survive it. He had lost too much blood. Aziraphale had no idea how long he had been here, left like this. There was no time to take him to a hospital. He hadn’t been with a wife or friends at the bar. He would likely die here, cold, and alone.

Aziraphale reached down, pressing a hand against the wound, and healing it. It was overkill, to heal it completely, but the man looked in enough pain that Aziraphale couldn’t help but want to help him as best as he could. He spluttered at the motion, coughing harshly. Aziraphale stood up quickly, miracleing his trousers clean from where they had been stained by water and blood. He also miracled the stranger unconscious.

Aziraphale would have liked to have stayed with the stranger to make sure he got better, but he couldn’t answer the questions the man would obviously have. With any luck, the gentleman would wake up with a nasty hangover, with little recollection of what had occurred the night before. He’d likely interpret the black eye as being the result of a minor drunken scuffle. He would not remember Aziraphale, and Aziraphale would never see him again.

A kindness for a kindness was all it was. Miracling him out of sight, Aziraphale turned, and walked away.

[acheemient]

Things I think Will happen in Season 3 (it's not spoilers if it hasn't happened yet!):

Crowley takes up the roll of Duke of Hell.

Aziraphale was put into the role of Supreme Archangel so Metatron could keep an eye on him/get him out of the way/control him

God has been removed from the Book of Life or has been trapped or whatever by Metatron since the Not Apocalypse (hence no God narration in season 2)*

Crowley was a high ranking Archangel who Fell when he went to Metatron with questions. Crowley's memories have been erased (Duh)

Nina and Maggie will be back

Crowley dies in Aziraphale's arms, but Az is able to miracle him back from the dead (foreshadowed in season 2 by the whole "Lazuri" measuring system)

Crowley tells Aziraphale, "I forgive you," at some point**

Ineffable Husbands retire to a cottage in South Downs (because Neil loves us and will do right by us)

A Nightingale will sing outside the cottage and will be the last image we see.

Things I think Might happen in Season 3:

Crowley HATES being Duke of Hell, but he does it to spite Aziraphale

Aziraphale HATES being Supreme Archangle, but he pretends he's Fine. Lots of fake smiles

The Second Coming is a baby, and the Ineffable Husbands have to deal with keeping a baby safe from both sides

The Them come back to help save the day

Aziraphale brings Crowley back to life with a very tearful kiss **

Ineffables free God/bring Her back/add her back to the Book of Life somehow

God narrates the ending scene of the Ineffable Husbands living happily ever after, now that She has been freed/brought backby the Ineffables

The Ineffable Husbands end up raising baby Second Coming as their own in their cottage (throw back to them raising the fake Antichrist).

Thinks I Want to happen in Season 3:

So many kisses (I think we will get one, maybe two) between the Ineffable Husbands

A Big Hug between Aziraphale and Crowley (I'm taking about Embrace levels)

Crowley sarcastically bowing to Aziraphale and addressing him as "Supreme Archangel"

Adam still has some of his Infernal Powers. Nothing like before, but some left over

The return of Anathema, but I think her story is done, so this is less likely

A sex scene or an allusion to sex (but it won't happen, so don't worry - see below)

The last scene shows Aziraphale, Crowley, and the Second Coming in their garden outside the cottage in South Downs living as a happy little family.

Things I think we Won't see in Season 3:

Coffee Theory ***

Body Swap Theory ***

A sex scene or an allusion to sex between Aziraphale and Crowley (even though I want it, Neil won't bring it up one way or another. He'll let us all make our own choice on that one)

Newt. I just don't see him coming back

These are all just my opinions. Please do not get angry about anything listed above if you don't agree.

* God's Ineffable Plan was always for the Apocalypse to be stopped by Aziraphale and Crowley. Metatron still wants Earth to be destroyed. He wants his war.

**I'm hoping the "I forgive you" is heartfelt. Possibly when Aziraphale kisses Crowley back to life. Imagine Aziraphale holding dying/dead Crowley in his arms, saying, "Pease don't leave me, I need you, please don't go, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Crowley" (etc.). And then Aziraphale's eyes glow purple as his pulls up every bit of his power and presses his lips firmly to Crowley's lips (much like their first kiss), and we finally see Crowley lift a hand to Aziraphale's cheek to kiss back, and Aziraphale is SHOCKED and pulls away to look at a very weak smiling Crowley who quietly says, "I forgive you."

***I know some people really hang their hats on this one, and no insult to them, but I don't think Aziraphale needed any extra prodding or powers used to get him to go back to Heaven. It's enough that he thinks he's going to be able to make Heaven better and/or protect Crowley. I kind of feel like it cheapens Aziraphale's agency and the story.

[actual-changeling]

i'm mentally playing around with the good omens worldbuilding and i can't stop thinking about them not being able to heal their own corporations/bodies.

they're not entirely human, their occult/ethereal essence shapes and changes it, so what if when it does get injured they can't miracle it away or fix it? like the paintball stain on aziraphale's coat just that he isn't trying to get crowley to do it for him, crowley has to do it for him because he can't.

we see aziraphale heal anathema's broken arm after she hit the bentley the car accident, and i imagine it would be a little like that.

aziraphale breaks his wrist in some stupid way, like falling from a ladder while putting books away or stumbling, the kinda thing that has him trying to deal with it alone out of embarrassment. however, they have plans the day after, and crowley comes by with a bottle of wine and immediately notices something is off (hard not to with the way he is pressing his arm against his chest).

cue to crowley sitting him down on the couch in the backroom, and they're very, very close together. aziraphale is having trouble holding still because crowley is kneeling in front of him, no glasses, all open care and concern, and it's killing him.

"angel, if you don't-" "i told you, my dear, it's fine."

the look he gives him in response is entirely unimpressed, and he gently pokes his wrist and says nothing when aziraphale flinches in pain.

"right, fine, it's broken, just fix it. please."

every single time aziraphale says 'please' it's a silver bullet to his heart, eating away at him from the inside out; he would have done it no matter what, yet he can't tear his gaze away from the plea in his eyes. a soft blush spreads across his face, and it's too close to a confession for comfort, so crowley finally blinks and focuses on the fracture in his bones.

fixing it is simple, one cleanly aimed thought and a careful caress of his palm less than an inch above the skin, and the bones knit themselves back together without complaint. when the pain bleeds away, the tension in aziraphale's shoulders does, too.

"thank you."

"don't," he answers, more reflex than real bite, and they realise at the same time that with the miracle done, they're holding hands now. crowley savours the few seconds it takes aziraphale to pull away as if he's been burned, face turning away, and he expected it, he really did, but it still stings. he gets up and resists the urge to put his sunglasses back on, locating the bottle of wine he had abandoned rather quickly.

"right then, do you want to-"

"stay."

neither of them needs to breathe, and yet the air in the room stills in trembling expectation, confused.

"i- i meant- let me get the glasses."

crowley does not move (or breathe. or blink. or think), simply watches as aziraphale hurries away, tasting the disappointment bitter and familiar on his tongue but swallowing it before it can spill. expectations are never a good idea, causing pain neither of them can miracle away, and the undying optimism living in his chest is a curse aziraphale's blessings are powerless against.

he turns, ready to sink into his usual spot and drink the uninvited thoughts away, when a tentative touch makes him freeze once more. aziraphale's fingers are curled around his, their hands pressed together with enough plausible deniability to allow the squeeze he gives him to linger.

they're standing in the middle of the bookshop, holding hands, and crowley tastes the unspoken gratitude in the air between them, stronger than the sour heartbreak could ever be.

it rips a whispered angel out of his throat, more exhale than word, and maybe if one of them was a little bit more courageous, if the world was a little bit less dangerous for the two of them, aziraphale would have leaned over and left a kiss on his cheek before hurrying away.

maybe crowley would have pressed his fingertips to the lingering mark and blushed the same shade of rosé the bottle he had brought carried.

maybe the rest of the evening would have felt... different, saturated with all the confessions they cannot make, not yet.

maybe the next time aziraphale needed crowley for a healing miracle, the thank you was accepted without comment.

maybe if you believe in it enough, in one universe or another it did happen like that.

perhaps even in this one.

[strangesthirdeye]

ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ɢᴏ ( ᴄʀᴏᴡʟᴇʏ x ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ғᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

Summary: when he can't let go of you

Warning: IT'S CROWLEY! OF COURSE WE LOVE HIM, human reader, heavy Angst, sad, bomb, taking a place where 1941, Crowley rescues Aziraphale from being shot by Nazi spies, death reader but alive reader, broken, sad, hurt, denial, anger, bargaining, depression, dark themes? Major injuries, explosion, blood

As usual, I'm sorry if there are any wrong sentences or typos or grammatical mistakes, please forgive me and again English is not my first language, so I try to improve my language and writing in this way.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You always find it charming when Crowley being all shy and awkward around you who is a human who doesn't have any privileges like he is a Demon. He has a miracle which you find quite fascinating while you are just a human working in a cafe near the Church. The first time he told you that he was a Demon, you were silent for a moment. Not knowing how to react but then you said it was a joke and told him that he is an angel in your eyes which he kind of cringed at Angel's sentence.

But then, when he showed you his snake eyes, forking tongue and his ability to perform miracles, you seemed impressed and stunned. Never have you seen that humans can have all these kinds of unusual things let alone make a miracle. But then later, you believe in him that he is a Demon. Although you were a bit hesitant at first because you know that Demons can do all kinds of mischievous things, but seeing that Crowley is not 'that' type (but it is a little) you are finally relieved from the kind of unwanted feeling of caution.

And this made Crowley fall in love with you because never as long as he was on earth did people treat him as well and respectfully as you. And this is leading him to help you with your cafe. The first time he was at your cafe was because he needed a strong shot of bitter coffee which later made him addicted to coming to your cafe until he became a regular customer of your cafe which lead to you getting to know him and so on.

You always greeted him with a smile and eyes twinkling with stars, making his demonic heart beat faster whenever he catches a sight of you. And this also led him to confess his feelings to you which you returned with the same feelings. Not because he is your regular customer or he always helps you, it's because you see the opposite of him that only you can see. Although he is a demon and demons should do bad things but Crowley, he is not that one.

Although Crowley always denied that he was not nice or that he hated the word 'Nice' he sure acted like one which made you stifled your laugh when you remembered that.

Fast forward to 1941, where world war started. Nazi spies everywhere regardless of time and place make you feel threatened and unsafe as your Cafe is close to the Church and well Cafe is a place where everyone hangs out other than a bar. So of course there will be Nazi spies hangout in your Cafe even if you don't know if it is Nazi or not. It's just that they are good at disguise.

You always do your work as usual although you are a little aware of the current situation which makes you a little uncomfortable with all that. You don't see your lover for a few days because currently he has something in another place stating that he needs to tempt someone in another place which left you confused and a little jealous because well it's a temptation what else do you not understand? But knowing Crowley, he's not the type who likes to cheat behind his lover's back.

He's a Demon, of course he can do anything but when it comes to you, he has a limit. Crowley himself did not believe in himself to become attached to human. Never in his life would he fall in love with a normal human being. And he still thinks about that. Most people will be afraid when he tells you that he is a Demon but you. You admire him and love him. Of course Aziraphale sees that Crowley is different from what other beings expect but you. You are just you. A human who always admires someone sincerely, sees himself as a different person that only you can see.

And this just made Crowley grab your face and crash his lips on you desperately. Pouring all his love and everything to you without a care in the world or Hell. And this also makes Crowley smile at himself like a teenager whose love is reciprocated while he is hiding behind the wall in the Church where Aziraphale is exchanging his books that he himself does not want to exchange with Nazi spies that he himself knows and does not know that there are other Nazi spies that he hired as his savior. And his reasons for being in that church? To steal holy water in abundance.

His skin feels hot when his skin is close to the church wall while his two legs fight for their lives to ease the hotness on the church floor.

'dammit, Aziraphale.' He cursed in his heart. He just wants to steal the holy water and go from there and be with you. Simple but well Aziraphale is the one who makes his simple plan difficult. It's not Aziraphale's fault that he needs a meeting at the Church, blame those Nazi spies.

But that didn't last long as Aziraphale, in full panic and helpless surrounded by Nazi spies which led to Crowley to tap dancing into the Church and save Aziraphale.

"In about a minute, a German bomber will release a bomb that will land right here. If you all run away very, very fast, you might not die. You won't enjoy dying, definitely not what comes after." Crowley smirked as he leaned his arm against the bench.

"You expect us to believe that? The bombs tonight will fall on the East End." Glozier said arrogantly.

"Yes. It would take a last minute demonic intervention to throw them off-course, yes. You're all wasting your valuable running-away time. And if, in 30 seconds, the bomb does land here, it would take a real miracle for my friend and I to survive it." he exchanged glances with Aziraphale who caught what he meant.

"A real miracle?" Aziraphale said.

"Kill them. They are very irritating." Harmony ordered.

But then suddenly, Crowley snapped his fingers and pointed his fingers at the ceiling of the Church. The sound of whistle was heard above the sky and echoed in the church making everyone except the two celestial beings confused and open mouthed. Aziraphale looked at the ceiling of the church nervously. Next thing he knows, they both miraculously survived the bomb blast.

The whole place near the church was destroyed and burned. Civilians who did not have time to save themselves were killed in the explosion. In fact everything is chaos and nothing survives but the two celestial beings.

Air raid sirens sound loud and people screaming in the background.

Crowley wiped his black tinted glasses with his handkerchief before putting them back on.

'Fuck, the holy water is gone' Crowley scoffed.

"That was very kind of you" Aziraphale muttered.

Crowley glared at him. "shut up"

"Well, it was. No paperwork, for a start... oh, the books! Oh, I forgot all the books! Oh, they'll all be blown to-"

Crowley grunted as he snatched the suitcase from one of the dead men's hands. It's perfectly intact, like the books inside it. He hands it to Aziraphale sloppily.

"Little demonic miracle of my own. Lift home?" Crowley offered but then he stopped as he realized something.

Aziraphale looked at him confused.

The church, bomb, you, cafe. Crowley quickly rushes towards your once to be cafe which is now only rumble and debris. He knows you are still working at the cafe now because your cafe hasn't closed yet but how come he forgot that your cafe is close to the church.

The explosion was too big to blow up anything close to it and your Cafe was one of the affected. Crowley is not a person who prays but in this situation he prays that you are safe and not at the Cafe even he knows that you are at the Cafe at this time. His eyes widened as he reached the site of your Cafe which no longer looks like a cafe. A raging fire burned everything, stones and debris around the place. Dead bodies everywhere and under rumbles. Everything is destroyed.

Aziraphale gasped for breath behind Crowley after chasing him to get here. He looked around and his face held a horror expression when he saw the gruesome scenes in front of him. He looked at Crowley who was stiff in front of the Cafe.

"Crowley-"

"Y/N!!" Crowley shouted as he ran towards your destroyed Cafe.

His hands lifted and dug the rumble that gathered there with desperation. Even though his fingers are sore and cut with sharp stones, his hands are still working to find you. Aziraphale looked at him with concern.

"Crowley, what happened-"

"Help me, Angel!" Crowley shouted, the hint of sadness in his tone made Aziraphale automatically step forward and help him.

Aziraphale was a little stunned after hearing that Crowley begged him to help him. He never saw this side of Crowley, helpless and desperate. He doesn't know who Crowley is talking about but seeing him this helpless and broken, he helps him with determination.

As Crowley's injured hands dug and lifted the large stone with the help of Aziraphale, he stiffened when he saw a hand with a ring on a pale and dusty finger under the large stone. The same ring he gave you to show how much he loves you.

Crowley recognized your pale hand before he kneeled and started to lift and dig the rest of the rumble that covered your body quickly. Aziraphale was dumbfounded seeing the scenes before he too helped Crowley to remove your figure from all the rumble and debris.

Crowley's cheeks were wet with tears while his lips never stopped calling your name desperately as he got you out of there. Your eyes are closed tightly, face covered with wounds and debris, blood is flowing from your head and body and your skins pale with how much blood you lost. Not counting how many bones you break in your body.

Your body temperature becomes cold as if you live in a cold place. Warm skins and smiles that you have disappeared. Crowley hugged your sickly pale and broken body against his body tightly. Your head on his chest as he stared in front of him with wide eyes behind his tinted black glasses. Tears fell down his cheeks.

Aziraphale fell to his knees by his side while his eyes focusing on your limp body. "Crowley" Aziraphale tried to call him but he was met with silence.

Crowley still couldn't believe this was happening. The day he dreads when it comes to you. His still too shocked and did not utter any words. His smart suit is ruined with dust and blood. Your blood. Your blood is still flowing out of your body and yet your body temperature drops as if your spirit left this world quickly. Without saying goodbye.

Crowley angling your head upwards to his face while his face looked down to see your peaceful face. His face holds a feeling of desperation and sadness when he sees your face. Thumb stroke your cheek gently.

"no.. no" Crowley whispered before he closed his eyes and kissed the top of your head with anguish sounds heard from his throat indicating that he held himself from screaming.

He sniffles and takes a deep breath before taking off his glasses. His eyes glossy with tears. Aziraphale intended to put his hand on Crowley's shoulder, but he was unable to do so when he witnessed it.

Crowley kept your head closed to his chest tightly without letting go. He's not ready to let you go and he's not ready to watch you leave him. He was helpless and in denial. He cannot accept that you have gone and left him. It's all his fault. If he knows that the bomb will land in the church, of course he will take you away from your cafe. But he knew that the bomb landed in the church and yet he didn't take you away from your cafe.

This is all his fault. He did all this. He is the cause of your death. Crowley digested all the bad thoughts on himself helplessly.

He will not be able to hear your sweet voice talking to him, your laughed, your touched and your eyes that always twinkle with stars whenever he is with you. If only he could turn back time and take you away from this place just to see you live happily would be enough for him.

And then, he froze at the sudden thoughts to give you life. If he can bring your spirit where your spirit is back into your body does that mean you will live again? Crowley snapped his head to see your peaceful and lifeless face. If he uses his miracle and finds your spirit and then brings it back into your body, will Hell and Heaven know? Obviously depending on how big a miracle he did to bring you back to life.

He clenched his jaw tightly. He didn't give a fuck about all those things as long as he brings you back. You have a lot more time in this world. He will make you an eternal no matter what, as long as he and you can be together. He always loves you no matter what happens to you if he brings you back to life.

Crowley then moved his hands to cup your head to his chest before he closed his eyes and put his head on top of your head. He searched for your soul using his miracle in a big way making his energy decrease but he doesn't care as long as he can give you life. And when he found it, he snapped and brought you back.

Aziraphale who was still kneeling next to him without caring about his dirty clothes with dust, sensing a huge use of miracle from Crowley. He panicked and glanced at Crowley.

No, this cannot be done. Bringing back human souls that have been taken to the living is forbidden. Hell and Heaven will know this. It is a terrible curse. Not only does it make the human live forever but they don't know if the spirit they bring back is the same spirit they bring back. It could be another spirit that was brought back. It could be a sinister spirit.

If Hell or Heaven knew this, they would be discoporated forever. Crowley risked his life for this human. Who is she to him that makes Crowley willing to risk his life to save her?

"Crowley.. Crowley, no, Crowley! " Aziraphale tried to stop Crowley by trying to release both of Crowley's hands from holding you but Crowley didn't move instead he tightened his hold on you.

"Crowley!"

A gasped began to be heard in Crowley's arms as Crowley nuzzled his head on your shoulder with relief. His weakened body hugged you tightly as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

"breathe, darling.. that's it, breath. Take as many breaths as you need" Crowley whispered in your ear as you panted to get oxygen back into your system.

Your eyes widen looking at the night sky, mouth agape to get oxygen like a fish being taken out of water before you grunted in pain. Crowley shushed you and stroked your head in a comforting way. Trying to ease the pain.

Aziraphale was dumbfounded when he saw the scenes in front of him. Not only Crowley managed to bring you back to life but with how many problems Crowley will face.

"You're okay, you're fine.. You're back, breath.. " Crowley whispered into your ear.

'what have you done, Crowley?' Aziraphale thought with horror struck on his face.

[avocado-writing]

Kinktober 14

14. Uniform, Suspension Bondage, Abduction/Kidnapping

It’s 2008 and your boys are about to go and try to halt the apocalypse by helping raise a baby. To you it all seems a bit convoluted, but you long since learned to stop asking questions about your lovers’ little projects. 

Doesn’t mean you can’t have a bit of fun, though.

You tell your boys to come over to your house for dinner tonight. Dinner very rarely means just dinner (even though the promise of food is an easy lure for Aziraphale) so you’re not surprised when they say yes and hear the key go in the lock that night.

“Nightingale? Where are you?” Crowley calls, and you grin to yourself.

“In the dining room, love.”

Your lovers walk through and pause when they catch sight of the scene.

You’ve set up the dining table with two places. Candlelit. Got the fancy plates out. The good wine, the nice silverware.

And you’re wearing a maid’s uniform.

And it is a uniform, not just an ‘outfit’, from the amount you bloody paid for it. It hugs your every curve and leaves very little to the imagination with its frills and silk. The neckline is cut deep and shows far too much of your chest to be decent. You have a little collar tied with a bow around your neck to give the illusion of your being a present they’ll get to unwrap later.

“Oh,” says Aziraphale, eyes hungry for more than just the duck pâté you’ve laid out.

“Hello, sirs. Please sit down. I’ve got the whole evening planned.”

Your lovers exchange a look, and then do as they’re bid. You make a show of taking their serviettes and placing them carefully across their laps, making sure to grab a decent handful of thigh as you go.

And so you play the scene.

You ate earlier, assuming you’d probably need the energy at some point later tonight. That means that you can take your time with it, too. Serve them slowly, course by course. Crowley doesn’t really eat but he’s so swept up with it that he finds himself clearing his plate every time there’s something placed in front of him. You pour their wine whenever they get to the bottom of their glass, simpering and giggling bashfully. At one point you make a show of knocking a spoon to the floor and reaching over to pick it up - revealing that not only are you not wearing underwear, but there’s a pretty little jewelled plug in your hole too.

“Oh my,” Aziraphale chokes, and you hear Crowley grip his wineglass so hard it shatters. When you turn around to check he’s miracled up the mess and is pretending nothing has happened.

Dessert is Eton Mess. It’s one of Aziraphale’s favourites. Well, that’s easy. All desserts are his favourite. But when they’ve finished their bowls and you turn to grab another bottle of merlot from your wine rack, you hear the sound of crockery being swept to the floor, and a hand closes around your wrist. With a gleeful giggle you’re pinned onto the bare dining table.

Your lovers stare down at you.

“Someone’s feeling particularly teasing tonight,” Aziraphale manages, his free hand reaching to undo his bowtie. You smile faux-bashfully.

“Just thought that it might be a while before I saw the two of you again. Wanted to make it special.”

“Oh,” Crowley laughs, huskily, fingers reaching under the skirts to stroke your plug and make you gasp, “I think you did that just perfectly.”

Turns out the real dessert was you.

@bootlmoth @elleofdragons  @angelic-anarchy27 @yeethaw13 @candlewitch-cryptic @kwyn-q @rat-that-writes @buryustogether @letthenightingalessingagain @ltlthetrifecta @angiestopit @purplefrog1sblog @wereallbrokenangels @angelspathway @clarina04 @belilwen @chaospossum @eightsdoctor @oo-delallymrcrow @silcosmoke @climbingivy97 @live-logs-and-proper @project-sad @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @imagination-phantom @anonymously35 @corgis04 @peytonpenguin37 @catlynharper @unabashedgentlemenpirate @wolfe-houler @darktealrat @mxxny-lupin @willbedecided @detectiveapparatiagreen @shadowluna25 @kaylinelizabeth4004 @xquinn-bartonx @blue-bell22 @foolishprincipalitee @fandomawesomeness @eweweweewewe @latersgaters-steven @llamaproblem @night-affiliate @randompost18 @hunterispunk @jessica-laufeysdottir @uxcaran @bunnymallowo @jae-michael @jelly-terror @larkiesparkie

[crowleysaziraphale2003]

Here's another fic from my AO3! I'll also be posting non-GO writing soon! :)

This one is supposed to be silly and light hearted, if ever it comes off as insensitive, let me know. For the record, I hate the prison system, please know that 🤍

The silliness and playfulness is taken from my own, two and a half years long (so far), relationship. My partner got me into Good Omens, and I will always be grateful to him for that. He's also just the best tbh and I love him so much ❤️❤️❤️

CW for swearing, neck kissing (briefly) and brief NSFW implications (nothing happens nor is implied to happen, just some suggestive flirting).

Bon appetit! 🫶

Crowley and The Mysterious Case of The Disappearing Sunglasses

It was a sunny afternoon, and a certain demon and angel were peacefully gardening together. At least, until something rather weird happened. 

It had started out with a kiss. Aziraphale hadn't joined Crowley for while, instead opting to recline leisurely in a deckchair, sipping wine and reading. He would pause every now and then, to look up and inquire about Crowley's progress with the garden. That aside, they hadn't interacted until Aziraphale had brought his baking, alongside a glass of cooling lemonade, out to him on a tray. That's when Crowley had decided that perhaps, it was time for a well-earned rest. 

Instead of sitting on the chair next to Aziraphale's, he'd decided to sit on his lap. Not that Aziraphale was complaining. Not at all, unless kissing him had counted as complaining, anyway. The thing was, just before he'd kissed him, Aziraphale had removed Crowley's sunglasses, which he'd been wearing not to shield his emotions, but his eyes, from the glaring sun. This was not an uncommon occurrence; Aziraphale frequently removed Crowley's glasses before they kissed, if Crowley didn't do so himself. 

But this time, when they'd broken apart, the glasses had been nowhere in sight. The garden was officially a crime scene-the sunglasses had disappeared under mysterious circumstances.

Aziraphale, former angel, was a key suspect in their sudden and mysterious disappearance. Given that he was of an unusual, unpredictable nature, Crowley had to resort to using a variety of investigation tactics. Tickles, first. This had only succeeded in getting them both breathless and slightly distracted. 

Time for a new tactic: holding his book hostage. 

"Crowley!" Aziraphale had whined. "Give it back, now!" 

Crowley wasn't about to crack under the pressure. "Nah," he'd responded, with a cheeky grin. "Not until you tell me where the hell my sunglasses are! These are my only pair nowadays!" 

Aziraphale had raised an eyebrow at him in response. "Can't you miracle up or buy a new pair?"

"Nuh. Not allowed that many miracles since having retired, and there are no shops around here selling sunglasses.

Aziraphale frowned. "It's a tad odd that they don't sell them around here." 

Crowley stared at him as though he lacked brain cells. Which perhaps, in his own way, he did. "We're in bloody England! What do you expect!? Give me my sunglasses back!"

"Give me my book back!" Aziraphale pouted. 

"Nuh-uh!"

"I swear, Crowley-!"

"You started this!"

Aziraphale took a deep breath. "You give me no other choice," he replied, his face stoic. A sudden rain cloud appeared over Crowley's head, soaking him in seconds. Crowley gasped. 

"You bastard!" he said, throwing the book onto the porch. "Come here, you little shit!"

"Absolutely not!"

That's how they ended up chasing each other around the garden.

Ten minutes later, and they had stopped. Right. Time for yet another interrogation tactic. "Angel," Crowley purred into Aziraphale's ear, "if you give me my sunglasses back, I'm sure we can find another way to...unwind." 

Aziraphale blushed. "I know you, you wily old serpent. You're trying to tempt me to get me to give them back," he said, pausing. "It might work."  

Finally! 

Crowley sat on his lap and started to kiss Aziraphale's neck. "My angel," he murmured. "Look at you, you're gorgeous. So pretty, so good." 

The perpetrator cracked. "Fine," he admitted. His breathing was heavy, yet he didn't even need to breathe. That's how his interrogator could tell he'd got him. "Check your plants." 

Crowley fell off Aziraphale's lap. "What?!" he exclaimed. 

"Check your plants," Aziraphale repeated, smiling now like the deviant, the criminal, that he was. 

"Angel!" Crowley shouted, with no real maliciousness in his voice.

Right there, on his prized sunflower, the tallest one, sat his sunglasses. They must have been miracled on while they were kissing. The worst part of all? He hadn't even noticed. The next investigation, he decided, was going to be a murder investigation.

Aziraphale bolted indoors, Crowley hot on his trail. Oh, he would pay for this...

"No kisses for the rest of the day? Crowley, that is so unfair!"

"That's your sentence. You must serve it."

After a bit of tempting on Aziraphale's part, he was bailed out of his cruel sentence in less than an hour, with a strict warning to not do that ever again. He didn't re-offend, so Crowley decided he was reformed. Good. Couldn't be dealing with all that.

[lilalexchaos]

Original fanfic

Oneshot

Enjoy!!

_____________________

A loud noise started screaming beside Crowleys bed. The demon slowly woke up and figured out that his phone was ringing. He didnt bother to open his eyes and grabed the phone.

"Who in the hell is this? D'you have any idea what hour it is?" He hissed sharply into the phone.

"Oh Crowley, I'm so glad you're awake!" Said a very familiar voice at the end of telephone.

"Angel?" Crowley mutterned something abstrusely and rolled over on his back.

"Crowley, were you sleeping? Did i wake you up?" Asked the Angel in worried tone.

"No... er- 's fine. Ehh i'm awake. What is it Angel?"

"You see... I somehow found myself being on the edge of London. And here's this awful weather-"

"Wait you just like suddenly poped there or what?" He opened his eyes and checked the window. Sky was all dark and trees were bending unther the strong wind. Suddenly a lightning crossed the sky.

"Of coruse not, you know, i was on something, doing some blessings at orphanhouse here..." his voice was nervous and he spoke quickly. "I've got stucked there for a bit longer than i originally planned."

At the moment, Aziraphale was actually crouching in an old phonecell covering himself from terrifying storm, whom he was actually scared of. It was fortune he knew Crowleys phone number by memory.

There was a sound of thunder and Aziraphale gasped of fear.

"Got it... err, 'you all right Angel?"

"Yes-yes absolutly."

"You're scared of storm."

"No i'm not! Even if out here it seems rather scary... you know i just wondered... there are no cabs in the area-"

"I'll come for you, don't worry."

"-Oh-oh thank you Crowley that would be very lovely of you" he said as if it wasn't where he was trying to get.

Some strange noises came from phone.

"Crowley are you there?"

"Err yep, just getting dressed." Another thunder came out of phone. This one was much louder than the previous one. Angel gasped. Crowley was sure Aziraphale was afraid. There was something wrong with his tone. He knew his nervous angel and that he need something to calm him down the sooner the better.

"You want me to stay on phone with you Angel?" It was the only thing that came to his mind.

"Oh- that would be very kind of you."

"Right, I'm coming. Give me 20 minutes. Or err could make it 15." Mutterd Crowley more for himself than for Aziraphale.

"Crowley! please, drive safely!"

"Yeah all right all right whatever..."

Crowley quickly grabbed an umbrella and made his way out from his flat. He ran across rainy street to his car, opening it with a snap of his fingers. He started the bentley and the car left the street.

He heard Aziraphales heavy breath.

"Angel, are you sure you're all right?"

"Yes I am perfectly fine." Said the Angel While his voice cracked.

"Right." Crowley have known this tone of voice and also that the Angel wasnt perfectly fine at all. He started to worry. He wanted to help him but didn't know how.

"Err so, at that orphan hostpital, what exactly were you doing there?" He tried conversating.

"Oh nothing special. Just had to heal one child thats all."

"You stayed there 'till half past two in the morning just to heal one child? Thats nonsense."

Aziraphale mutterned something chaoticly.

"Look Angel, I can see you're not fine. Tell me whats happening."

"I'm fine Crowley, really, nothing to worry about. Absolutly tickety boo." Said Angel quickly.

"Aziraphale, please, tell me what's happening," he tried softly, "maybe I can help."

"You're helping Crowley."

"Alright. Didn't wanna do it this way, but if you won't tell me what's going on, i'm going to push down that pedal and i'm going to be there in ten minutes."

"Crowley! Alright alright..."

■ ■ ■

"So you healed them all? And you miracled that families will adopt them?"

"Yes. -you aren't actually driving too fast are you?"

Crowley gave a accelometer quick eye and slowed down a little.

"Nope."

"Heaven told me to heal only one, I shouldn't do that. I just- I couldn't help myself." Now the Angel was sobbing softly in to the telephone. Crowley did speed up a little at the end.

"They-they are just children. I-I know heaven has great planes for them but I don't suppose they're here on earth... they are ... innocent they don't deserve this."

"I know Angel, I know, they don't. You know about Almighties plans, misteriou and..."

"Innefable"

"Exactly. Maybe this was a part of it?"

"What if not? It certainly wasn't! What if I ruined their lives?" The storm was getting louder and Aziraphales voice began to shiver.

"I just- they don't have anyone. They're all alone in this world. They deserve somene who would love them."

"Yeah... guess you're right. Angel, I'm here, don't go out of telephone cell."

Suddenly the bentley appeard at the road. Aziraphale would swear (if he did ever swear) that since he called Crowley, it hadn't passed more than 15 minutes.

Crowley stepped out from driver seat with an umbrela above him and ran through the rain towards the cell. Aziraphale oppened the door.

"Crowley-" he sobbed. He looked at him as a frightened puppy who got lost.

Crowley grabbed him by his shoulder and pulled him towards him. He wrapped his arms around his back and hold still an umbrela beyond them.

Angel was a bit surprised by this. It was so lovely thing for a demon to do. He grabbed Crowleys jacket and burried his head in his chest.

"It's alright now Angel, don't worry, I'm here." He said gently and stroke Aziraphales back with his hands.

Angel didn't try to hide tears anymore and started crying. But he didnt feel embarrased. He felt completly safe. He felt he can do and say whatever he wanted to without being judged (too badly). He didn't feel safe with other angels or in Heaven. He felt safe with a demon. The demon he trusted more than anyone.

He felt the warmth of his demon, his soothing breath on his hair, as his chest went slowly up and down.

"You're an Angel, you can't ruin anyones life. Almighty will change Her plans and take care of them. Isn’t that what She prommised them?"

Angel sobbed softly into his chest and hugged him tighter. So did Crowley in responce.

A loud thunder screamed nearby. Aziraphale shuddered.

"Right," Crowley pulled away a bit, "let's go home."

Angel nodded. Crowley held an umbrella above Aziraphale as he get into the car, then run around car and sat at drivers seat. Aziraphale was wiping his tears and trying to cope up.

"You want me to change weather for you?"

"Oh no dear, I feel perfectly safe now thank you." Responded Angel avoiding eye kontact.

"Alright i'll take you home then." He said as he started the Bentley and they set off.

Aziraphale smiled a little as an agreement.

"Actually, my place is closer, we can go there if you're okay with it."

Aziraphale smiled at the -we-.

"It doesn't matter where we go, I just want you to be there with me." He said almost whispering.

Crowley turned his head to look at him, but didn't say nothing. He just looked at him, his yellow eyes were stuck at him with so much love and care, that shouldn't be in any demons eyes. Maybe with a little surprise. He than faced the road again and gently took alohld of Aziraphales hand.

"You feel like home to me too Angel. You did for ages." He said.

Aziraphale fighted the urge to say Crowley to drive carefully with both hands on wheel, but instead took Crowleys hand into his and squeezed it softly.

"You did the right thing, if you ask me." He said after a while. Aziraphale faced him. Crowley was still concentrated at the road.

"You know, with families, loved ones..." he stroke his hand gently and Aziraphale felt sudden hot wave rush through his chest.

He wanted to say Crowley so much at the moment. How he felt about him, how much he loved him. How much he appreciated everything Crowley was doing for him and thank him for all the care he had for the angel. But he only managed to say:

"Thank you my dear. I really do hope so." And gently squeezed his hand.