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aziraphales-library · 1 year

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hey, tysm for what you're doing, i've found so so many amazing fics through it

i was wondering if you've got any where after the bookshop fire Crowley just loses his shit, like, the "bastards! all of you!" except he's acting on it, 100% vengeful demon after all of heaven and hell. doesn't have to be after the fire even. i'm mostly just looking for bamf crowley fics because i've found a disturbing lack of them? or even if he's just some sort of villain, or fighting demons, or or or. preferably not E rated.

thanks!

The bookshop fire is not a moment people choose to make Crowley a BAMF, and most fics link that to trauma for Crowley. You can check our #protective crowley tag for fics where he is more of a bad ass, and I have some bamf Crowley fics here for you...

Forget Me Not by Supergeek21 (T)

Aziraphale wakes up in Heaven with a pounding headache only to realize he has very little memory of the last 6,000 years. The good news is he successfully averted the War. The bad news is the Serpent of Eden now wants to kill him for revenge, or so Gabriel tells him.

***

When Crowley pops by the bookshop to visit Aziraphale and is greeted by the full force of an angel's wrath, he has no clue what he's done to incur such rage, or why Aziraphale is apparently reading his old work reports, but he'll be blessed if he isn't going to find out and win him back.

The Art of Creation by Bookwormgal (T)

Once upon a time, long before humans set foot outside of Eden and long before his inelegant landing in a pool of boiling sulfur, Crowley had been an angel. An angel with a very different name and far less cynicism. And that angel was made to build Her creations. He built stars, nebulas, and other beautiful and complicated things far out there in the cosmos. He shaped fundamental elements and materials into new creations. He molded burning fires and sculpted dust into breath-taking patterns. He started bright and powerful reactions, serving as a catalyst to spark the birth of stars. He set various celestial objects spinning.

He built. He took raw materials and built wonderous things with them. He built because that was the role that She made him for. In the end, was rebuilding that much different than building? And wasn't rebuilding fairly close to healing?

When it was his angel's existence on the line, Crowley was willing to grab at any chance available. He would find a way to fix what had been damaged. He would find a way to save him.

But I would walk 500 miles by Augenblickgotter (T)

There's a conspiring of foes from both sides that forcefully kidnap Aziraphale. Crowley is in hot pursuit and will stop at nothing, finding some unlikely aid along the way, and bringing up his True Form when the time is needed.

Some depictions of pain and violence, minor character deaths by Holy Water, and mild gore. Also mild claustrophobic and dingy descriptions of Hell. And the boys relationship can be flat out platonic asexual best of friends or downright dirty lovers. The story is up to you and is more about how far they would go for each other. ;) No, no monster sex in this one either (comb for my last fic if you need it). Just BAMF Crowley ready to walk 500 Miles through Heaven or Hell to save his Angel.

I've Got You by caffeinefire (T)

Aziraphale felt the change in the air, a burst of power and a whiff of ozone. He spun, and jumped when he came face to face with Gabriel leering cheerfully over his right shoulder.

“Aziraphale!” he smiled as if greeting an old friend, then clapped his hands together loudly, so close it made Aziraphale flinch. “You’re early, so glad you could make it.” He began to walk around him, admiring the circle beneath his feet, careful not to cross it. It posed no real danger to him, it had already been activated, but crossing the bounds of an active circle was never a fun experience.

“Gabriel,” his voice wavered despite his best efforts. “What is the meaning of this?”

------------------------

Hellfire didn't work, but Heaven has one more idea. And this time, they're going to force Crowley to watch.

Beyond Grace by HKBlack (T)

“Crowley, I need you to do what you do best.” “Wozzat?”

“I need you to find me, and rescue me,” Aziraphale whispered.

After Aziraphale is discorporated Crowley goes on a mission to do what he does best. Recruiting help from both of their former Head Offices is easier said than done, especially when Hell thinks the whole thing is a ruse, and Heaven thinks you’re on the hunt for more angels to corrupt.

The Infernal Bodyguard by Santillatron (M)

Alistair Zira Fell is a popular author. Loved by everyone he meets. Well, almost everyone. Someone is trying to hurt him, and right now, he needs a bodyguard.

Anthony J. Crowley is the best, although he doesn't work with celebrities. He has three rules. He never gets too close, never stays once the job is done, and Never Gets Involved.

But this isn't a thriller. This, is a love story.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #bamf crowley #protective crowley #aziraphale whump #kidnapping #mod d

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fandomfaeofveryfewf4cks · 8 months

Text

Long post.

Aziraphale x Crowley fic

During and after season 2 episode 6

Check tags for slightly more info

ao3: Finding the Nightingale

Finding the Nightingale

Aziraphale doesn't know what to do. He knew what to do moments ago, when he had basically been handed the opportunity to fix Heaven and make it absolutely perfect, but then Crowley made it clear he wouldn't have any part in those plans.

And now Aziraphale stands in a blindingly white and silver elevator, next to the Metatron who had given him an oat milk latte that suddenly wasn't sitting so well as it had been moments before.

Then again, consuming any beverages or food lately had been less than enjoyable.

That. Had started before everything went to hell, or wherever was to be the most unpleasant place to be nowadays, after the apoca-maybe-some-other-time.

Yes, that adventure had changed just about everything, even though Aziraphale and Crowley had tried so hard to believe it had changed nothing at all.

They no longer had an obligation to watch over young Warlock, nor young Adam (or rather, Adam Young) for a start. And with everything going on, there hasn't been much time to check on them just because they wanted to.

Crowley always did get testy when he couldn't be sure of the well being of the young folk he pretended not to care for.

And there was, of course, Nina and Maggie, with their budding and discomfortingly familiar, relationship. They had finally started to figure things out, which left an odd, aching, longing feeling in Aziraphale that he had had trouble placing. It didn't help that the two of them seemed to cast knowing looks towards him and Crowley. And who knows what they said to Crowley while Aziraphale was out.

Whatever it was, it clearly scared Crowley beyond measure.

Ever since 1941, Aziraphale had considered the unspoken part of his relationship with Crowley to no longer be entirely taboo. It is fun to flirt with attractive beings that you've shared so much time with, after all. But nonetheless, it has since continued to remain somewhat taboo and very much unspoken. It being unspoken is most likely one of the main things keeping them safe while still being allowed to work as closely as they've been.

Now it has been spoken.

Or at least, half spoken.

The Metatron was so close by. There was only so much Aziraphale could say without putting them both in very real danger.

But, if he's being honest with himself, that was not the only reason he said what he said and didn't say what he didn't say.

Heaven is supposed to be the side of goodness. An unquestionably right and just force under the Almighty's caring rule. Yet Heaven has failed at being any of that.

And perhaps it's foolish to think he, Aziraphale, can govern Heaven any better than anyone else, but he is one of only two non-mortal beings in the world who have worked significantly closely with Earth's inhabitants, God's creations, humans.

Wonderful humans with their music and food and books. Stories they tell and feelings they share all in the goal of better connecting with one another. Someone must look out for their well-being and who would know better about how to do so than those who have lived among them for 6000 years, Aziraphale and Crowley?

Aziraphale thinks to his bookshop, to Crowley's Bentley, to his classical music, and even Crowley's less-than-tasteful bebop. None of it deserves to be destroyed, and the humans who created such things deserve it even less so.

Who would Aziraphale and Crowley even be if not for humanity? Perhaps that is a dangerous thought, as demons and angels were made to guide and shape humanity, not the other way around. But does that make the question any less worth asking?

Another dangerous question. Aziraphale knows precisely what happens when angels ask too many questions, and while he can't find it in himself to believe that asking questions is wrong or bad, he does still need to undo the practices in heaven that say it is. To undo those mistakes.

Crowley should never have had to fall. When Aziraphale first met Crowley, back when they were both angels, Aziraphale thought he was the most beautiful thing to ever exist. Their joy in creating something that would be constantly and (in their mind) eternally grow and change to become more and more gorgeous and wonderful was breathtaking. The droop in their wings when learning that God's plan for it involved it never reaching its full potential, was heartbreaking. Aziraphale wanted nothing more in that moment than to take back what he said so that Crowley could've kept that joy, even for just a little while longer. Later, he would hope he had done so so that he could keep the angel around with him in heaven for at least a little while longer. But what happened happened, and Aziraphale can't change that.

Or at least...not the way he thought?

When the Metatron gave him the change to rule heaven. To change heaven, it seemed like the perfect chance to fix everything.

When Crowley wouldn't come with him, despite his pleas, Aziraphale couldn't understand why because he was doing this for-

But that doesn't matter now.

The Metatron swept Aziraphale away as he tried to stuff the broken pieces of his heart into his inner vest pockets, that he would surely have time to put back together later.

He took him outside and towards the elevator that would take them to heaven, where Aziraphale would be given the power to change everything.

Aziraphale sees Crowley, still there, standing by their Bentley, watching Aziraphale. Waiting for Aziraphale. "How long would he wait for me?" Aziraphale wonders. Somehow, even if he doesn't wait for him, he doesn't doubt that he can fix things between him and Crowley later on, once Aziraphale has fixed Heaven and made it the force of good he and Crowley had once had faith in.

It would be a challenge to do it alone, and it would hurt to come back and face Crowley if he still saw Aziraphale's actions as a betrayal. But Crowley is worth all of it and more. Crowley deserves to be welcome in Heaven once more, just as he deserves to live in peace knowing humanity is safe. Because Crowley deserves the world and Aziraphale would give him that and more.

Aziraphale steps into the elevator and Metatron presses the button marked "H."

It's a long ride up and once the doors had closed, Aziraphale found he couldn't get Crowley's face out of his head. The grief and dying hope that had gone across his face were burning into Aziraphale's heart now.

This is where he starts to doubt as he sees that image of Crowley, hair cut short, with the fitted sunglasses, loose tie, and black suit. His Crowley. He then remembers him as an angel, hair longer but pulled back, robes standard issue, eyes so unknowing and naive to the future he'd watch far away from the stars he created, from the place he once called home.

Aziraphale thought of those eyes. The brown they were when he was an angel was soft and lovely, yes. Aziraphale has and would miss them dearly. But the yellow snake eyes he's been staring into for 6000 years... They were knowing eyes that SAW Aziraphale. Those were the eyes that sought him out, the ones that couldn't look away from him and that he couldn't look away from. Those are the eyes of the demon he loves, here and now and forever. Those brown eyes from so long ago never looked at Aziraphale the way his beloved Crowley's eyes looked at him. The angel he met so long ago didn't love him the same way Crowley loved him. Raphael was a beautiful sight to behold. A beautiful part of Crowley's past.

But nothing lasts forever.

And if there's one thing Aziraphale should've learned by now, all these thousands of years living amongst humanity, it is that change is one of the best parts of both life and humanity.

Aziraphale made a decision.

Heaven could go fuck itself.

The elevator door opened.

The Metatron led Aziraphale to the meeting space with the archangels. They greeted him with polite and tight smiles, clearly less than thrilled about his presence, particularly Michael. Metatron proclaimed that Aziraphale was to be appointed Supreme Archangel of Heaven, which was met with barely concealed horror and disgust.

Aziraphale can only imagine the looks they gave him when Crowley took his place, getting cast into hellfire.

Metatron then held forth the flaming sword Aziraphale had seen not really all that long ago. When it had been used to summon, empower, and ultimately kill War.

"I think it's time you took this up again, Aziraphale" the Metatron said.

Aziraphale took the blade in his hands and saw his reflection in the silvery metal, lit with the white of Heaven's walls. He couldn't help noticing he looked rather washed out.

He set the blade alight with it's yellow and red flames and took in his reflection again.

Red really is quite flattering.

And yellow always was his favorite color.

Aziraphale took his battle stance.

And set Heaven ablaze.

. . . . .

Hours later, the demon Crowley could be found drunk, drinking, and most certainly not crying in a bookshop where the angel Muriel was currently hiding upstairs and reading books that she found surprisingly enjoyable, while giving Crowley space that he had made very clear that he needs right now.

Crowley had tried to just keep driving and driving until he ended up in another universe or even just another country. However, the Bentley had had enough of his moping and too much quiet in the car when there should be commentary from a curious angel being made about some very loud Queen music being played. So, the car ended up driving them back to the bookshop, and Crowley wasn't paying enough attention to stop his car from doing so until they were already there.

The door flung open as Crowley was all but thrown out of his Bentley, towards the shops' doors. He looked at the book shop and noticed Muriel was still inside. "Someone ought to make sure she doesn't actually sell any books," Crowley thought. He took an urgent step forward before he stopped.

How ridiculous is it to care about whether the books will get sold, when the one who's actually supposed to care about them remaining in the shop, not only abandoned them, but is likely never coming back for them except to burn it with the rest of the world as Heaven commands?

Crowley shook himself. Aziraphale may have broken his heart and may have been brainwashed to literal high heaven, but nothing could get that stubborn angel to so much as singe a single page in this shop that already had far too much experience with fire and flame, in Crowley's opinion.

Perhaps if Crowley started setting things on fire in there, Aziraphale would come back.

No, Crowley's burned and ruined enough precious things for one day. And besides, he doesn't really want to relive THAT trauma all over again.

It's still ridiculous to care about this dumb bookshop. He ought to just find a place out of the way to park his car and sleep for a few hundred years, if not forever. Leave all this behind....

Crowley steps into the bookshop.

He tells Muriel to go upstairs and not bother him, he shuts the blinds, he sits on the couch, and starts drinking. And he keeps drinking. This goes on until he can't hold back the tears he's been fighting since his disaster of a love confession to Aziraphale. He then cries until he has properly smudged his sunglasses with tears and found himself curled into a ball on the floor. His sobs start to settle and he takes the glasses off, still keeping his eyes closed. He is tired. He is so tired. But his heart aches too much to sleep or do anything but sit here in the dark and think about Aziraphale.

Aziraphale, who left him.

Aziraphale, who thinks God's plan is more important than the two of them.

Aziraphale, who is stupid enough to think he can change Heaven and God and all the fucked up systems that have been in charge of everything since before the beginning.

Aziraphale, who is just enough of a bastard, that he just might actually be able to pull it off.

Crowley had thought stopping the apoca-who? was impossible, but Aziraphale didn't give up and proved him wrong.

Crowley thought Gabriel was lying about his memory loss and was just waiting for the perfect moment to take advantage of Aziraphale's kindness before ultimately smiting them both. Aziraphale gave him his kindness anyway, which led to Gabriel and Beelzebub proving an angel and a demon could live happily ever after.

Aziraphale's stubborn determination to always do the kind and right thing despite the rules as well as his own self-interest is one of the biggest things Crowley fell hardest for him over.

Was it really so hard to believe that it would come through now as well? In Aziraphale's plan to change Heaven for the better?

Maybe if they worked together like all the other times, it would've worked, but Crowley can't and won't go back to heaven to be the puppet whose strings don't fit anymore. And Aziraphale should've known better than to ask that of him. But then, Crowley never really talked to Aziraphale about that part of his life did he?

"Because you and Mr. Fell never really talk to each other."

Oh.

"Oh for heaven's...I mean for hell's...I mean...I mean... Oh for FUCK'S SAKE!!!"

Crowley gets up and gets the alcohol out of his system as he starts pacing around the bookshop, considering just how badly he and his angel screwed things up this time.

"Muriel!" He called.

Muriel briskly hopped down the stairs with a curious, if slightly weary look on her face.

"Yes?"

"I'm going out. Don't sell any books."

"A-alright. Where are you going, though?"

"To talk to my angel PROPERLY!"

Crowley sauntered out the door and across the street to where Aziraphale had been.

"Alright, surely this can't be too hard. You were in Heaven barely a day ago. And I doubt Heaven changes their locks any more often than they change their passwords."

Crowley has built Galaxies, stopped time, driven a car through a wall of fire and came out of it unharmed, talked his way out of countless doomed situations, and even somehow gotten the angel with the purest of hearts to fall in love with him...he thinks. He hopes.

If he can do all that, then he can operate a blessed fucking elevator.

Searching through his powers for the parts that have been laying dormant since the fall, using the imagination that's been a part of him throughout his entire existence, and calling upon the endless well of love in heart that he's been denying was there for millennia, he sends everything he has into defying the rules of Heaven and God and he opens. Those. Fucking. Elevator. Doors.

He breathes a brief sigh of satisfaction before bolting in there and pressing the button marked "H," hoping the bright lights weren't a trick and it wasn't taking him to Hell. Really, he didn't want it to take him to Heaven either, but that's where his stupid angel went, so there he will go too. It's too long a wait to get to the top and his stomach lurches painfully more and more the closer he gets. There's no one else in here this time, so he leans against the wall for a moment to gear himself up for fighting his way through the dumpster fire called Heaven to get to the Love of His Life and save him once more.

What he wasn't expecting from the dumpster fire called Heaven to look like when he opened the doors...

Was it to literally be on fire!

Everywhere he looked, there were slashes across heaven's floors, ceilings, and walls that created pillars of fires, surrounded by celestial beings frantically trying to put them out. And Aziraphale was standing right in the middle of everything, holding the flaming sword, his back to Crowley, wings out and ready for battle. Just past his shoulder, Crowley could see Metatron, looking directly at Aziraphale and trying very hard not to look as terrified as he was.

"You understand this makes you an official enemy of Heaven. You're giving up your title and we will strip you of your angelic powers," Metatron says."

"The titles of Heaven haven't meant much for a while. And I see that now. As for my powers, I wonder if they are changed enough to be out of your jurisdiction. And even if they aren't, you'd have to catch me first."

Crowley is blushing madly behind Aziraphale. His jaw dropped to the floor. He had come to talk, but this seems like a reasonable thing to delay discussions of emotional blahblahblah for.

"You honestly think you can take on all of Heaven by yourself?" Metatron asks as the archangels continue panicking behind him.

Crowley sees Aziraphale's stance shift a bit at that. "Ah, that's my cue," Crowley thinks.

"He's not alone," Crowley snarls. Aziraphale turns to him, and he sees the angel's face light up with tears starting to prickle in his eyes.

"Crowley!" He says in that soft way that hits his heart like two suns colliding.

"Hello angel." Crowley says as he walks up and holds out his hand, looking into his eyes as Aziraphale takes his hand in his.

"You're still only one angel and one demon against all of Heaven. You can't possibly think you can win."

"Yes," replies Aziraphale. "It truly would take a multi lazari miracle," he looks again to Crowley, "to accomplish such a thing."

Crowley grins manically and chuckles as he says, "Or a microscopic one."

The walls of Heaven begin to crack and crumble as the foundations of this ancient place shake and destabilize, the fires spreading in chaotic streaks across this bright white dimension, until brightly lit smoke fills the space and Metatron's cries of rage at his downfall reach every celestial ear.

Crowley and Aziraphale, still hand in hand run for the door and leave Heaven behind.

. . . . .

They run to the bookshop and immediately, though still carefully, put protection spells over the place as well as the Bentley outside. This new level of power they find themselves with is going to prove quite useful.

They stare into one another eyes, hands still tightly grasped. Aziraphale has set the sword down. They take a moment.

Then Aziraphale's smile drops. "Oh Crowley, my dear," he reaches up to gently hold his face, "I-I can't express how sorry I am. I was truly, an absolute idiot, a total buffoon, an- an-, well I made a complete ass of myself."

Crowley's eyebrows raise slightly.

"I- I should've believed you. I should have listened because- because-...Oh."

Aziraphale steps back and thinks to himself for a moment with tears in his eyes, wringing his hands before stopping. He looks up and has come to a decision.

The apology dance.

Aziraphale takes his steps accordingly and sings.

"You were right. You were right. I was wrong. You were right."

He stands and looks at Crowley, still appearing as though he will be letting out some painful sobs and enough tears to rival the Great Flood any moment now.

"Oh Crowley," he steps forward again. "I- I truly am unsure if there's anything I could say. I-"

Crowley takes Aziraphale's hands again before he can think too much about it. And makes a point to catch Aziraphale's eyes, not looking away this time, not hiding his own, There'll be no more running away, not if he can help it.

"Angel," and here Crowley pauses. His voice is cracking, and he's shaking a little. Just because his angel has inspired him to be more determined in fighting for what he believes in, doesn’t make vulnerability any less scary, especially after everything they've gone through.

But still, he cracks on. "Angel, I've- I've already made my feelings clear. And I've also made it clear that I don't plan to go back to heaven. We have another chance to do this and I'm trying really hard to do it properly this time because I think we both messed up pretty badly in regards to this, to us, too many times already."

Crowley takes a shaky breath.

"You are the most important thing in my life... And I wan-." He sighs sharply. "I...want...to spend eternity...with you." A pause to look into those still wet, blue eyes.

"You and my future with you are what I care about most in this universe. And now I need to know where you stand. And this time, I'm ready to listen- and compromise- if you are."

"Oh" Aziraphale thinks to himself. "This is what he was trying to do earlier. This is where I messed up. I didn't listen... I won't make that mistake again."

"I am, Crowley," Aziraphale says. "I am willing to talk and to listen. I- I want to be with you. Heaven and Hell are still looking for opportunities for war and destruction, though, and I don't think I can just let it happen again. But- but I do see now, that I can't just do what I'm told anymore. There will be no easy way out when it comes to saving the world, and I understand that now. And even if - Well, I do still think... if there is ANY way to fix the messes Heaven and Hell have made, it'll have to be a plan we BOTH work together on, won't it?"

"As in," Crowley interjects, "possibly...a new Arrangement?"

"Yes!" Aziraphale exclaims. "Oh yes, precisely. Do you...think we could work on such a thing?"

Crowley tilts his head with a murmur to give the appearance of thinking it over. "Well," he says, "I suppose we could. But only if we continue to work harder to preserve our personal...relationship...first." He let the word relationship roll out of his mouth slowly, like he was worried it would cut him if he let it out too quickly. "And if we stop dancing around each other."

"Yes," Aziraphale agrees, "I must say I did terribly enjoy dancing WITH you much more" and he steps closer, wearing a look on his face that has Crowley stammering. Aziraphale gently brings his hands up to Crowley's face again, his fingertips lightly digging into the hair whose red color was quickly being matched by the blush on Crowley's cheeks.

"I also can't deny that there are other things we've done recently that I enjoyed."

Crowley somehow still gets hit hard when reminded that Aziraphale knows how to drop his voice low like that.

"Though I would like a chance to try it again without my stupidity causing a hindrance. If you'd let me?"

"You're not stupid angel," Crowley says, only slightly distracted from the lessening distance between him and his angel. "You were just hanging around with the wrong people."

"Something, I'm glad to have remedied. But...about that kiss?"

Crowley's breath hitches. He leans forward. "I'm very much up for a redo, if you a-mph!"

Aziraphale couldn't wait any longer, and he's not ashamed to admit that that first kiss has been replaying over and over in the back of his mind constantly since it happened. Even through the grief, regret, and rebellion, he knew that among all the things he had to fix, The Kiss was definitely pretty high on his list of priorities.

Now they were here again. The Kiss: part 2. The first time had been 6000 years of yearning unleashed on Crowley's part and 6000 years of trained repression trying desperately to keep hold on Aziraphale's.

This time, they had come to an agreement. They would have a new Arrangement where they worked wholly together and it would start with this. A kiss more than 6000 years in the making full of a tender yet powerful, everlasting love that will bring Heaven and Hell to their knees, and that will protect Earth with all its might.

An angel and a demon falling in love. It goes against every rule and every plan. It should be impossible. But that must be why Crowley and Aziraphale love humanity so much, mustn't it?

As far as the human race are concerned, nothing is impossible. Especially when it comes to love.

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