#he doesn’t know what Aziraphale can do without him

[sparkplug02]

My take on the Final Fifteen

To Aziraphale, I don’t think the choice was “stay with Crowley on Earth” or “leave Crowley for Heaven.” I think the choice was “go to Heaven with Crowley” or “go to Heaven without Crowley.” In other words,

“No” wasn’t an option (to Aziraphale) (gif is not mine).

From the coffee shop scene where the Metatron orders coffee from Nina:

Metatron: “Do people ever ask for death?”

Nina: “What?”

Metatron: “The name of your establishment, ‘Give me coffee or give me death’ - I assume they always ask for coffee?”

Nina: “They don’t ever ask for death, no.”

Metatron: “I don’t suppose they do. So predictable.”

Death isn’t an option. “No” isn’t an option. Not to Aziraphale, who goes along with Heaven as best he can.

With Job, there was wiggle room to bend the rules and interpret things in Job’s behavior. Aziraphale lied but he didn’t outright refuse anyone. Technically, Crowley was the one who made the trick happen. Aziraphale only affirmed it.

During the Final Fifteen, Aziraphale had effectively just started a war. To quote Crowley, “Heaven won’t like that.” Then Voice of God personally came down and, rather than issuing a punishment for using his halo, the Metatron told Aziraphale he would be the new Supreme Archangel.

If God (or God’s voice) says so, then it must be. Aziraphale IS the new Supreme Archangel. The Supreme Archangel must reside in Heaven, so Aziraphale will go to Heaven. For an angel, there is no choice in that. I doubt it crosses Aziraphale’s mind that refusal mighty be an option. There is no option.

Aziraphale’s time on Earth is up. Maybe that is how he sees it. Nothing lasts forever, and he has to go. I doubt he wants to go alone though.

(gif still not mine)

If Crowley came with him, that would make Heaven more bearable. Making Crowley into an angel again might not be an “I can fix you” but a “this is the only way we can stay together.” It is not within Aziraphale’s new jurisdiction to refuse the call of the Lord, but it is within his jurisdiction to give a call of his own. I doubt any angel has the power to make a demon an angel again, so the Metatron was probably banking on the fact that Crowley doesn’t trust Heaven and would never willingly return there, but I also doubt Aziraphale knew that.

If you approach this from a perspective of no alternative, no choice for Aziraphale to stay or leave, only the choice for Crowley to join him or stay behind, then the response to “tell me you said no” was a very honest and genuine “I couldn’t.” Not because Aziraphale values Heaven over Crowley, but because he has no choice in the matter. He IS going to Heaven. He doesn’t see a way out of that.

Of course, Crowley does, and why wouldn’t he? He makes his ‘too late’ love confession, and when that doesn’t work outright, he tries to convince Aziraphale that he has a choice, that he can refuse, that he should refuse, that he ought to refuse.

One of the things I learned in a public speaking class (shoutout to Donna) is that if you’re trying to persuade someone, you can’t expect to get them to swing from one extreme to another. You have to know where your audience stands on the issue and aim to move them one, maybe two degrees towards your side at a time. If you want to change someone’s mind the easy way (talking to them instead of forcing them through an experience that changes their perspective), you have to go slow and steady. If you try to argue someone from one extreme to another, then all you’re likely to do is push them even further away from the stance you want them to take.

This was not a slow and steady persuasion. This was a last-ditch attempt at a long shot. Aziraphale had just started to separate himself from Heaven, enough that he stopped Armageddon with Crowley, but he wasn’t completely detached from them. They still sent Muriel to watch him, which implies that he’s still under Heaven’s control, even if he has gone rogue.

Aziraphale doesn’t see staying behind as an option. He cannot do it, it will not happen. He spends all that time trying to convince Crowley to come with him because that it is the only thing that will make this inevitable future bearable. He must go to Heaven, he will go to Heaven. When Crowley asks him if he said no, he doesn’t respond because this isn’t something he can say no to. It doesn’t occur to him, and he doesn’t consider any possibility…

…until Crowley kisses him.

This is only one example. He keeps turning around, keeps looking back. THAT is one step in the right direction. THAT was enough to make him hesitate, to wonder if maybe he could choose not to go to Heaven and that maybe he should. One fabulous kiss and now, all of a sudden, he’s second-guessing himself.

He still goes, but in the elevator, the Metatron tells Aziraphale about the Second Coming. Crowley figured this out earlier, and Aziraphale knows it now. That final look? Well, they both know how Crowley thinks the Big One will end. Heaven and Hell against Humanity.

In order for Crowley to succeed at stopping the Second Coming, Aziraphale would have had to stay with him. In order for Aziraphale to succeed at thwarting the Second Coming, Crowley would have had to come with him. They probably both feel like the other is abandoning them in their greatest time of need.

Here’s the thing, though: Aziraphale may be Supreme Archangel now, but he was Guardian of the Eastern Gate first and foremost. Aziraphale might stand by and watch Heaven and Hell fight, but the second Heaven turns against Humanity, ohhhhhh it’s over. He was only willing to kill Adam because he thought the rest of Humanity’s survival depended on it. He knows humans kill each other and die all the time, but the last time he’s watched a holy or unholy being kill people was the Flood, and that was God Herself doing it. If his captors fellow angels start killing humans as collateral for the Second Coming, then that will knock him over the edge.

And Heaven doesn’t want that. The Metatron gets Aziraphale in line before the Second Coming starts. If Aziraphale and Crowley team up (you know, the angel and demon who tried to subtly perform a double-half-miracle and instead produced a 25 Lazari smoke signal), it’s over. The day Heaven loses their grip on Aziraphale is the day Heaven loses.

I think Crowley’s kiss worked better than he thinks it did. It made Aziraphale doubt, and it walked him one step closer to turning around. Aziraphale’s protective Principality nature will take care of the rest, and as soon as Aziraphale realizes he has a choice, we all know the choice he will make. Crowley is an optimist. He’ll be there when Aziraphale figured it out.

He’ll be pissed off, but he’ll be there. They both will. Crowley is still on Their Side. My guess is that Aziraphale will go radio silent for an episode or so before he sabotages Heaven so bad that the only way they can recover is by teaming up with Hell. The second Crowley sees Heaven’s plan going up in flames, he’ll know his angel is behind it. He’ll know Aziraphale is on Their Side again.

[guardian-of-soho]

The more I think about the last minutes the more I’m sure Crowley was saying goodbye from the minute Aziraphale told him he’d said yes to Heaven. He doesn’t confess his love like he’s hopeful, he confesses it like a eulogy. He doesn’t kiss him to make a beginning, he kisses him to seal the end. He watches him go like it’s the last time.

Crowley knows Heaven. He knows they’ll want to either make Aziraphale just like them, or destroy him. Either way I think he believes he’s seen his angel for the last time.

[and-this-of-all-my-hopes]

So, I feel like I’m losing my mind. I keep seeing metas about how Aziraphale wants Crowley to return to Heaven and be an angel again because he wants them to be on the same side/be good/change/etc., etc., etc. but I don’t see that at all. I actually see it as the very opposite.

Aziraphale loves Crowley just as he is. But there’s something more. Something huge.

Aziraphale loves Crowley and because he is an angel who is stuck in seeing things as black and white, he constantly praises Crowley for being nice. For being good. For being kind.

Aziraphale has watched Crowley on and off for 6,000 years. He watched him thwart the plans of Heaven and Hell because it was unjust. He spared the lives of innocents. He did small things that made Aziraphale happy just because (like making Hamlet successful and saving valuable books). And because Aziraphale sees things in black and white, he sees all the things Crowley has done as nice, as good, as kind.

Crowley vehemently attests he’s not nice or good or kind.

He’s not exactly wrong nor is he lying when he says this. When Crowley spares goats during a cruel bet over a righteous man and swallowing laudanum to prevent a suicide, when he prevents Armageddon by working with Aziraphale and stopping the Anti-Christ from being the Anti-Christ, he’s not doing the nice/good/kind thing.

He’s doing the right thing.

Crowley chooses to do the right thing without hesitation. He is better than all of Heaven and Hell who have callous and dispassionate view of all existence because he questions, because he makes choices. Crowley sees the world for all its messiness and he sees himself. He sees a place where he fits in. He sees the blurred edges.

And Aziraphale sees that, even if seeing the blurred edges is hard for him.

But here’s the thing that Aziraphale can’t voice.

It’s the reason why he told Crowley about being allowed to return to Heaven and become an angel again. He doesn’t want Crowley to change. He doesn’t think Crowley is flawed. Or not enough.

It’s something that is so monumental that it cannot be put into words. Because to put it into words would be more than blasphemy. It’s down right unthinkable for anyone in Heaven, Hell, or Earth to say what Aziraphale knows deep in his soul.

God was wrong to cast out Crowley.

Aziraphale believes Crowley can/should return to Heaven because he knows that Crowley should never have fallen in the first place. He wants him to be forgiven because when Crowley fell it was unjust. Aziraphale is trying to correct a mistake. He’s trying to do the right thing.

Yes, Crowley would never accept returning to Heaven. And Aziraphale was wrong to even suggest it (although that conversation is another can of worms to unpack).

Aziraphale loves Crowley. He loves him exactly as he is. He doesn’t want him to change. Aziraphale knows that Crowley the best of all of them. He wants to change Heaven because of it. Because God was wrong and Aziraphale knows it.

Aziraphale may have difficulty seeing beyond black and white, but when it comes to Crowley he sees everything crystal clear and in vivid color.

[bluberryfields]

This is what happens when you're raised by TV and trained in literary analysis

Beyond the crushing heartbreak of that finale, one thing in particular has stuck with me when I look at it in the context of S2 as a whole.

He lays out their relationship, "We're a team, a group. A group of the two of us. And we've spent our existence pretending that we aren't."

He then turns his head away and says, "I mean, the last few years, not really."

He pauses here, facing the interior of the bookshop. Really looks it up and down.

Turns back, "And I would like to spend" before choking on his words and looks toward the window. He can't finish saying something like "And I would like to spend eternity with you" because that's too much, too fast, for both of them.

But it's that "last few years" bit that has firmly lodged itself in my very broken brain.

According to Gaiman, it's been "a few years" since the end of Season 1. Armageddon has been averted. Heaven and Hell have reluctantly retreated. Crowley and Aziraphale have been effectively cut loose from their "sides," leaving them to form their own side.

So at the start of Season 2, we get a glimpse of the “fragile existence” they have carved out for themselves. To me, the biggest difference that we see is how they exist together in front of others. Going to the coffee shop, the pub, and the other shops along the street that Aziraphale has lived on for over 200 years. And don’t forget how they act in front of Nina, Maggie, and sweet, dim Muriel.

At the coffee shop, Aziraphale stammers a bit when Nina asks who Crowley is, but he still seems to have affection in his voice when he says, "We go back a long time."

Compared to Shakespearian "He's not my friend! We've never met before. We don't know each other!" panic, this is an incredible difference.

Of course, each time, Crowley is cool and cheeky and does nothing to indicate that they aren't a pair. Though, of course, he does deny it when Nina asks about Aziraphale being his side piece. “He’s not my bit on the side! He’s far too pure of heart to be anyone’s bit on the side.” And refers to him as an “Angel [swallows]I know.”

When they go the pub, Crowley's joy at doing something together in public that they do not normally do is super cute, including his cheeky order for Aziraphale's sherry. Then, when bringing the drinks over to the socially trapped Aziraphale, he greets Mr. Brown with a truly adorable, "Hello" and a signature DT smile. Then upon hearing how “excited” Mr. Fell is to host the meeting, he looks down and says, “Oh? You astonish me.” while Aziraphale sips his sherry and squirms.

We also watch as Crowley follows Aziraphale as he goes to each shop and talks to the owners about the meeting/secret ball. In theory, Crowley has no reason to tag along, and he certainly doesn’t help sway anyone who doesn’t want to/can’t go. He goofs around at the magic shop. He splays out on the bench, chin on hand, looking for all the world a husband waiting for his wife to pick out a dress at the department store. They are so married it’s ridiculous.

Finally, their behavior in front of Muriel while inside their sanctuary. Crowley sits on the arm of Aziraphale’s chair, somehow looking supremely comfortable on the old-fashioned furniture. He folds up those gloriously long limbs and presses himself as close as possible.

He smiles and plays along with Aziraphale’s coaching of Muriel in her disguise. Calls him Angel and asks to speak in private. And at the end, during the awful wait while Aziraphale talks with The Metatron, Crowley cleans up the shop and tells Muriel that he and Aziraphale will need some “us” time after all this. No beating around the bush. 

Without oversight, they can be openly together and happy. But Heaven just can’t let that happen. 

[wordsinhaled]

“I need you” isn’t “I love you,” and it isn’t “Yes, let’s go off together,” but the thing is, it might as well be. And it might be one of the more honest things Aziraphale has ever said.

He has never said it aloud before now. Not like this, with eons worth of raucous indignant feeling crawling up into his throat. He had not wanted, not expected to say it like this, mocked by his own stricken reflection in Crowley's sunglasses, each lens a dark mirror.

"I—I need you," says Aziraphale, and his voice breaks down the middle. It might as well, for he's confessed too late. Crowley is shut to him, recedes from him like a wave broken on the terrible bedrock of Aziraphale's futile stubbornness.

And still, even like this, Aziraphale needs him.

His presence, his constancy. His unfailing, tenacious friendship.

Crowley’s kindness, his softness, his solicitousness under the prickly façade Aziraphale sees is just that—a layer that can be so easily peeled away to reveal the deep core of caring beneath, too entrenched to be deserved by any world they could live in. He needs Crowley’s unguarded gaze, needs the way Crowley’s forever looking at him across distances when he thinks Aziraphale doesn’t notice: chin tilted up, eyes soft as marigold petals.

A phone call away whenever anything or nothing at all happens is Crowley’s dear voice; his lovely dry humor; his sauntering, slithering, improbable walk despite which he somehow flawlessly falls into step alongside Aziraphale anywhere and all the time. His hip knocking against Aziraphale’s, casual as anything and yet so much more than. Flashes of black and wisps of red flitting in and out of Aziraphale’s periphery for thousands of years.

He needs their circuitous arguments, their winding ethical debates—after most of which they somehow end up on the same side, that is, their own side, terrifying and exhilarating in its Promethean familiarity—and Crowley’s chaotically-sure moral compass. The times Crowley is braver than Aziraphale could ever be; and the times Crowley reminds him of how brave he actually always has been.

And Aziraphale needs even the great big awful rows, the ones that end in their standing on opposite verges of another chasm of their own making. Because the culmination of such a fight is always the meeting again in the middle. It’s the low sweeping bow of their apology, a ritual not half earnest for all its facetiousness, which says so much without either of them having to utter a word. Crowley holds a whole conversation in the dip of his fiery head and the exaggerated flutter of his elegant wrists, when it’s his turn; and, when it’s Aziraphale’s, the hashing-out of differences is there in the way he executes each familiar movement with the practiced ease of a faithful courtier, though it’s been ages since he stood in any king’s court.

He needs the knowledge that they always forgive each other. Because, well, they do. They must. They will. What’s a spat or a quarrel or even a proper falling-out to two beings like them, to him and Crowley?

Aziraphale needs Crowley’s happiness. His truest happiness. If that isn't the crux of it all, what is?

He remembers the ancient light of Crowley's joy, how it had shone once about both of them like an aura through the blackness of undeveloped space. It never left, all that bright, barely reined-in giddiness, all that frenetic energy, but he's transmuted it, magpie-like, into something else. Aziraphale can sense it whenever Crowley brings him a new vintage record to add to his collection. Whenever Crowley pulls out Aziraphale’s chair for him outside Marguerite's, or orders just what he likes for him at the Ritz. Whenever he drops into the shop unannounced with a little box tucked under his arm, full of gorgeous petits fours from the new bakery Aziraphale hasn’t yet tried, and says, gleeful, Ohhh, you wouldn’t believe all the wiling I had to do to get my hands on these, angel. You’ll have to thwart me for this, I know. But first—no, no, no, first! The only sensible thing for you to do would be to try them… you’ll like the pear macaron...

And of course Crowley is right. He's right about most things, isn't he, after all? Because Crowley knows him, and he needs to be known, but it simply wouldn't do for anyone else to be the one doing the knowing.

Aziraphale likes the pear macaron, just as Crowley knew he would.

He likes all the things that come along with Crowley, really. The fast car, oh yes, sleek and stylishly classic and so very Crowley through and through, though Aziraphale has committed staunchly to grousing about it. The way no companionable silence held in Crowley's company is ever truly silent. The jaunts to the park on seasonable days: Crowley's touch lingering where he pours frozen peas for the ducks into Aziraphale's cupped palm; the fondness in Crowley's tone poorly disguised as he points out his favorite mated pair trawling placidly across the pond. The drinking together long past the small hours of the morning in the back room of the bookshop, where the walls are the same warm ochre shade as Crowley’s eyes.

It isn't ever so much about the drinking as it is about the together bit. How the space between them dwindles with the syrupy passage of time. How Crowley softens and melts into the settee. How he becomes Aziraphale's to watch, for once. How he grows so wondrously relaxed and gloriously at home there in Aziraphale's space that Aziraphale begins to wonder if this will at last be the night Crowley does not, eventually, get up and retreat back to his Bentley to take himself away again...

There is always that fragile little moment, right after sobering up, when everything in their universe seems at the same time to be entirely too set in stone and entirely too much as though it all hangs by one delicate, dissembling thread. Always the split second in which Aziraphale looks into Crowley's guileless face and remembers he could unravel everything with a single tug.

Yes, one sharp tug on the lapels of Crowley's jacket would do it, he knows. How easily it could be done... Tumble the two of them into one another, just then, and they would never be parted again. And his deft-tongued Crowley would lick the heat and the aftertaste of Talisker into Aziraphale's mouth, then, before it had the chance to dissipate completely.

He could. He could.

It's in those stretched milliseconds, brimming with a tender longing so acute it tips right over into an agony, that Aziraphale realizes: I do need all of you, darling, don't I? So terribly much it might unmake me one day. Never mind Aziraphale's most fickle and blustering attempts at denial, he knows this to be true as he knows the truth of little else in the cosmos.

And perhaps today is that day—the day Aziraphale will dissolve and be remade in the permanent shape of lack.

[createserenity]

Silliness and why it’s important

Crowley and Aziraphale are so silly and it’s something I really love about them and it’s something I think is really important to them because they can be silly with each other in a way they can’t with anyone else.

Both of them are silly – Aziraphale displays this side of himself much more readily and more often than Crowley does, but Crowley is silly too. Even present day Crowley who often seems to get labelled as dark and jaded and traumatised is actually still really quite silly.

Quick note - this post is part of a series which contains my opinions on Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship dynamics. I already wrote one on what they ask of each other (click to read it!). This one is silliness, by which I mean the funny things they do to amuse themselves and each other and also to a lesser extend the times when they are just a bit weird, because they are both slightly bonkers sometimes, for no other reason than they want to behave like that.

(By the way, if you make it to the end of this post without the word silly becoming, well, silly, then I applaud you!)

Why is being silly with each other important?

Can you imagine them being silly with any of the other demons or angels? There’s no way Aziraphale could display his silly side in heaven, the archangels are serious and wouldn’t understand the silliness, they’d just think Aziraphale was mad. Same for Crowley, the demons of hell just wouldn’t get it, they’d be scornful or dismissive at best, and also probably think he was mad (in fact we know they would because Aziraphale later utilises this idea when they body swap). In addition for both of them silliness around humans is something they can and do indulge in, but they don’t get a lot out of it because humans probably just think they’re a bit odd. Aziraphale for example isn't as socially unaware as he first appears, unless he’s playing a character (for example when he’s the magician or reporter), he tends towards being basically affable around humans, because that’s the sort of persona he wants to cultivate. Crowley generally wants to look suave so silliness around most humans is out for him too. It’s not that they are never silly around humans (see 1601 for just one example) but usually they aren’t. That leaves them with each other.

Crowley’s silliness

Taking them one at a time, let’s look at their silliness and what it says about them. I’m starting with Crowley because his is less obvious. Crowley doesn’t seem to be super silly at first glance. His silly streak is overshadowed by Aziraphale’s and also his tendency not to smile and be so overt whilst doing silly things. It’s partly why he looks like he’s lost a lot of his joy in life, but I’m not so sure that’s true. Crowley is optimistic and continues to be optimistic right up to season two – he also continues to be silly.

Let’s look at some examples of Crowley’s silliness through the ages:

Firstly angel Crowley is obviously a bit inclined towards the ridiculous – look at the weird and wonderful noises and faces he makes whilst creating the nebula. Aziraphale is utterly charmed (and so are we all).

Next another obvious one – Bildad the Shuite. This whole persona is just silly. From the odd facial hair to the weird things he does, Crowley is just having quite a lot of fun here. His ridiculous summarisation of the permit (“hugs and kiss, God”), more weird noises and faces as he fireballs the goats, his over-exaggerated setting everything aflame in the house (here some of his silliness is for a different purpose – to test Aziraphale’s trust in him), and then ending with his farcical cobbler/obstetrician doing a fake child-birth, complete with ridiculous over-acting for the benefit of the angels. For a lot of the Job incident Crowley is indulging his own silliness for a serious end.

After that we have to skip right to 1826 for the next bout of blatant silliness on Crowley’s part. For a start he’s ricocheting through Scottish accents, sometimes changing from one sentence to the next. He’s having fun with the persona he’s created for himself and he really doesn’t care who notices. He also banters with Aziraphale, Elspeth and Dr Dalrymple here in a way I really love, “bet you left your loom on your farm!”, “more murders, I’ll drink to that!”

There’s a lot of silliness in 1941 and I really don’t need to list it all – the middle name that’s just a J, the weird American accent, his very genuine laugh of delight at the snakes in a can trick, and more. This isn’t a demon that’s so jaded he isn’t still having fun.

So then we get to the modern day. There’s limited opportunities for super overt silliness because the situation is serious in both seasons, but there’s still some there:

In series one instead of miracling the guy with the paintball gun to sleep he literally turns himself into a monster and then declares “that was fun!” It’s ridiculous behaviour if you think about it, but Crowley enjoys himself.

The way he drinks the coffee in S2E1. Seriously. Why does no one talk about this? He gulps it down and then hisses/pulls a really stupid face. Maybe it gets overlooked because it’s sort of a bit sexy too, but honestly, it’s pure ridiculousness and he knows it.

From this point on Crowley’s silliness tends towards being more quiet silliness, rather than over the top silliness like Aziraphale’s is (with one notable exception). In the pub scene he orders the drink with a joke about Aziraphale, and then proceeds to intimidate Mr Brown in a not at all normal voice. He later asks Nina stupid questions about awnings and sudden rain – he must know these are silly questions from her perspective, but he does it anyway because he’s got a plan and he’s just a bit daft and doesn’t mind appearing weird around humans if need be. Later in the bookshop he throws the books around – honestly he could just place them down, he will know he’s being silly when he chucks them all over the place, but he does it anyway. In between this we have Muriel, which is a delightful moment of them both being a bit silly together at Muriel’s expense, except they’re both really quite kind about it as well. Then we get the exception - in the magic shop he dons a fez and messes about with a crystal ball – really do I need to say more about how obviously overtly silly this is?

I’m sure I’ve missed plenty of other examples as well (I've not even mentioned how silly the apology dance is!), these are just the ones I can think of right now.

So all this to say that Crowley is silly and most of his silliness is when he’s around Aziraphale. We as the audience don’t see Crowley being super silly very often, but we can extrapolate from what we do see that throughout the history we don’t see he must display his silly side to Aziraphale reasonably regularly. The biggest piece of evidence for the idea that Crowley is a lot sillier than we tend to see him is when we glimpse him through Aziraphale’s eyes. We know he sees Crowley as someone who does funny things and that this is something Crowley continues to do right up to the present day because when they body swap and Aziraphale takes his place in hell what are the two main characteristics of Crowley that he plays up? Sarcasm and silliness.

So what does Aziraphale think of Crowley’s silliness? Well, he doesn’t actually react much to it (see later for one reaction he does tend to give). He definitely seems to expect it though, he takes it as a given part of Crowley’s personality and I think we can safely assume he likes it, since he likes Crowley. Is Crowley aware of his own silly streak? Absolutely. How do we know? Again because of how Aziraphale sees him. The first thing he tells Crowley about on his return is how silly he was: “I asked them for a rubber duck!” and Crowley laughs along with him, delighting in the silliness of it all. This reaction is a tacit acceptance of what Aziraphale has done yep, that’s totally the sort of thing I would have done, angel, I know I’m sometimes silly like that and I’m delighted that you see that and that you are also silly.

Aziraphale’s silliness

Aziraphale’s silliness is so overt that I’m not even going to list examples of it. We all know how silly Aziraphale is, right? We’ve all seen his stupid behaviour in the magic shop and his daft attempts at speaking French because he’s somehow wiped his ability to speak proper French from his memory (anyone got a meta about how he’s achieved this because I don’t think it gets enough attention?)

Basically Aziraphale is quite often as mad as a box of frogs and Crowley adores him for it. Sometimes he teases him about it, but a lot of the time he doesn’t even do that, he just shakes his head a bit and looks at Aziraphale like he can’t believe what he’s hearing or seeing and like he thinks Aziraphale is absolutely insane. This is a massively important part of their relationship dynamic. Aziraphale is silly and Crowley fake rolls his eyes at him – it’s what they do.

Why is this so important? Well firstly Aziraphale’s silliness is something that he gives to Crowley. And he only gifts it to him after he starts to trust him – Aziraphale’s silliness is a symbol of trust and Crowley knows it. If you made a graph of their silliness around each other through time then Crowley’s would stay fairly consistent, maybe even drop off a bit, (as he gets more worried about their situation), but Aziraphale’s would be a massive upward curve probably starting sometime around the arrangement (which is around 1020AD according to the book). This is another reason Crowley falsely looks super morose and jaded by S2. At the beginning of their relationship Crowley is the only silly one and he’s overtly silly fairly often (and probably this continues in meetings we don’t see), whilst Aziraphale is anxious and serious a lot of the time (there’s no real silliness from Aziraphale during the Job incident) because he’s struggling with his own morals and his own place in relation to heaven and God’s will.

Over time though he starts to trust Crowley and once he does he unleashes the silliness and this becomes a basic part of his personality. For the audience 1601 is the first time we see this, but it’s clear by that point that Crowley knows he’s silly and isn’t surprised by it. Once Aziraphale starts being silly around Crowley he does it with increasing regularity and by the time the events of S2 come around he’s silly so often and so wildly ridiculous about it that it makes Crowley look serious and maudlin by comparison (even though he’s more-or-less maintained his original silly streak at least up to the point where he drinks the coffee).

The second reason this is so important is linked to the first. Sometime after Aziraphale starts being silly this becomes how they flirt without flirting. Aziraphale is silly and it delights and surprises Crowley (surprises in terms of he doesn’t know how Aziraphale is going to be silly today, he’s not surprised by the fact that he is silly).

We see this in 1601 with Aziraphale shouting inappropriately silly things to Hamlet and looking at Crowley whilst doing it. He’s offering Crowley his silliness as a sign of trust and something more, the subtext is, You know how to be silly, I’ve seen you be silly, I know you love silly things and I’m silly too. Crowley reacts with a look we will see from him a lot in the future, you’re being ridiculous angel. He knows it’s silly, he knows Aziraphale knows he’s silly and he knows why Aziraphale is doing it. He doesn’t laugh though because they’re already on their way to established roles in their relationship, Aziraphale is silly and Crowley rolls his eyes at it whilst secretly delighting in it (it works the opposite way too – see the fez scene where Aziraphale is the one who reacts, you can just see the start of a, “seriously, what are you doing, Crowley?” expression before the camera cuts away to Crowley’s mad moment).

The dynamic later evolves into more overt flirting. By the time Gabriel turns up Aziraphale is very definitely using his silliness to flirt. The car scene (which I’ve written more about in another post) is the most overt example of this. Crowley isn’t being walked all over here, he’s playing up to Aziraphale very obviously flirting to get his own way, and by doing so is encouraging him to keep doing it. Aziraphale starts the scene off being silly about the clue and “investigating” because he knows Crowley likes it, and then he ramps up the silliness with his voice and hand gestures the more Crowley reacts with grumpiness and refusal. That this is all an act becomes very obvious when it continues inside after Crowley has removed the plants from the car. Clearly the car borrowing is already happening at this point but Crowley continues to protest and Aziraphale continues to flirt over the issue, right up until Crowley playfully pulls the car keys away from him at the last second and turns the tables by indirectly flirting with Aziraphale via his conversation with Muriel.

One interesting question here is, do they even know they are flirting? And you know what, I’m not entirely sure. I doubt they’d describe it like that to an outsider, but what they do understand is the effect their actions have on the other one, particularly Aziraphale. He knows flirting-using-silliness is a good way to get his own way on minor issues and Crowley, possibly sub-consciously, but definitely willingly, falls into his role in that dynamic providing it’s something he feels he can give (see my other post for more on that).

So is Crowley jaded by life in season two?

Tricky one! I can see some evidence of it and I do think he’s drifting a bit aimlessly this season, with no real home, no direction and feeling generally a bit lost about his place in the world. But I also see him being quite silly, sarcastic and generally amusing throughout the season as well, and he’s definitely still enjoying Aziraphale’s silliness, right up until the ball when Aziraphale won’t listen to him because he’s too busy being giddy. Also though he literally shares a joke with Mrs Sandwich when he’s rescuing the humans from the demons and he laughs in delight when he finds out Aziraphale has blown up his halo. He’s fed up about some things, but he’s not so fed up that he’s completely lost his sparkle.

Why does Crowley seem different though? Well, Crowley, whilst definitely very much inhabiting the ‘thin dark duke’ persona in the present-day scenes, still retains a lot of his sense of humour, it’s just changed over the years. He’s more likely now to channel his silliness into sarcasm, which makes total sense – he tends to keep up with the modern world a lot more than Aziraphale does and he’s lived in Britain for a very long time and British humour is very inclined towards sarcasm, which is basically a more grown-up form of silliness. Crowley hasn’t become jaded, he’s adapted his humour to the modern British world, but also still retained some of his original inclination to just behave in bizarre and unpredictable ways (Coffee drinking! Fez wearing!) He also doesn’t need to be as silly himself now because he’s got Aziraphale, who is more than silly enough for the both of them, and Crowley loves him for it. “I say something brilliant, he says something unintentionally funny. It’s great!”

Conclusion?

Yes, sort of! The whole thing can basically be summarised by something @ineffabildaddy said in response to my previous post. “Aziraphale and Crowley don’t just love each other, they like each other, too.” They haven’t hung around each other for 6000 years and fallen in love against their will because it’s fate or some nonsense like that – they liked each other first. They’ve always liked each other from the moment they met as angels and they have grown to like each other more at every meeting since. They like each other’s personalities, conversation, sense of humour, silliness and so much more. These are the things that bind them together.

We the audience only see their big moments, times when something happens that pushes their relationship forward (1941) or changes their sense of who they are (Job). In S1 we see them face a huge challenge together and come out the other side. What we don’t see and so what we can sometimes forget as the audience is that there is a massive amount of time in their history where these things weren’t happening, where they just met up and had normal conversations and hung out because it was fun for them to spend time together. To spend 6000 years hanging out together and still be able to find the other person interesting and funny and just generally worth being around is pretty impressive and show just how strong their relationship really is. I hope that no matter how big and dark things get in season three that we at least get some chance to watch them be silly together some more, I think they deserve it after all they’ve been through!

[nightgoodomens]

I love all the times Crowley shows his boundaries. “Enough, I’m leaving.” “You’re on your own with this one.” “Don’t bother.” etc. He knows exactly when Aziraphale crosses the line. Which shows how well Crowley knows himself. It shows his confidence and knowledge in who he is. It’s one of the many ways he shows it but an important one. He has his boundaries and he doesn’t like them crossed.

Crowley loves Aziraphale so of course if Aziraphale is in danger he will come back because Aziraphale’s safety is more important to him than their fights and not agreeing on something, even when Aziraphale can be hurtful. Crowley can be pissed off but he will prioritise Aziraphale’s safety like a good partner would. He can even apologise when Aziraphale should be the one apologising instead just because it’s more important for Crowley to ensure Aziraphale is safe. Priorities.

He’s very mature and self realised.

I think that Aziraphale did not realise this, he did not understand it the way Crowley did and so he never learned - hence the ending when he pushes him so far that Crowley snaps. It is too much this time. Crowley will do a lot to keep Aziraphale safe but he will not follow him that far, not where he would lose himself. Self respect.

So now it is time for Aziraphale to learn who he is, what his priorities are, and what matters. And understand Crowley, too. Most of all, stop assuming that he’s always right and that Crowley was wrong when Crowley was simply prioritising.

Like Neil and David said in that interview, Crowley is smart, he gets it, now it’s time for Aziraphale to learn.

And what better way to learn than going to Heaven on his own without the love of his life to lean on and save the day.

[mediacircuspod]

Okay so I know that we’re all upset at Aziraphale for this because of very obvious reasons. But can we take a minute to really look at where exactly he’s coming from? Because we only have Crowley’s perspective on the fall because we’ve only ever seen Crowley talk about it before. At least in his vague but colorful ways. Ex; Sauntering vaguely downwards, boiling pool of sulfur, etc.

But this season we get a little bit more on what Aziraphale thinks about Crowley becoming a demon.

And well. Aziraphale thinks that it was a mistake. More below the cut…

Full stop. Aziraphale thinks heaven was wrong about Crowley. He thinks God was wrong about Crowley. We see this in a few key scenes in both Seasons.

Let’s go Chronologically.

Job. Because I’ll never stop talking about the Job minisode. When Aziraphale’s caution is ignored in heaven, he goes to convince Crowley to stop and ignore the will of Heaven and Hell. (He doesn’t take into account that if Crowley doesn’t do the killing, another entity undoubtedly will.)

It’s the “I know you” and “I know [who] you were.” It’s the “I don’t think you want to do this.”

He had faith, even then, that Crowley would do what was right.

It’s the absolute and joyful giddiness of finding out that he’s right. That Crowley saved the goats, and probably the other creatures. That Crowley is going in that very beautiful house in order to save the children.

It’s the tragedy of Jemimah asking if Crowley is a demon and Aziraphale answering “Technically”. Crowley answers too, and he knows that there’s nothing technical about his state of being.

It’s the “you’re a little bit on our side”. And for all that Crowley denies, denies, and denies—Aziraphale doesn’t actually hear him. He hears “Yes. But I’m not an angel though, am I?” Aziraphale interprets, “I’m on my side” as “I’m not permitted to be on heaven’s side”.

In Rome, he extends Crowley an invitation to eat with him. He forgets himself. Tempting is Crowley’s job. He has to remind himself that Crowley is a demon, even if he’s a good person.

When they meet to watch one of Shakespeare’s gloomy ones, he looks to Crowley to do him a favor, and Crowley does. Without fuss. Just to see Aziraphale happy. Aziraphale smiles at this with familiar excitement. And a knowing look. (I want to shake him and screech, “Being good is not the same as being Good”)

Scotland. Crowley does a very good thing in this minisode, and he faces a very serious punishment for doing that good thing. Aziraphale can do nothing because Crowley is a demon who is good. And that is not a virtue in Hell, and the angel is confronted with the fact that Hell is not safe for Crowley. That hell will never be safe for Crowley, and we begin to see Aziraphale seriously worry about the arrangement and what it could mean for Crowley from this moment on.

And then we see a lot of Crowley saving Aziraphale from various scrapes and bad situations. We see Aziraphale refusing to give Crowley access to dangerous materials and then giving in so he doesn’t fall into more danger.

Aziraphale not only wants Crowley safe, he wants Crowley saved.

And at the end of season 1 and the majority of Season 2, Aziraphale embraces who he and Crowley are together. And he’s genuinely joyful about it, even with an undercurrent of sorrow he feels from being disconnected from heaven. We get hints of this throughout the second season… “You need to tell someone about something clever you did before you pop” “I can’t report to heaven anymore” “I’m afraid I’m out of miracles right now”.

This is the whole point; he never stops wanting to be good. And he never stops believing in Crowley’s goodness, either. Maybe even more than his own. (Aziraphale has to convince himself of his own righteousness almost as much as he has had to convince himself of Crowley’s evilness.)

And this brings us back to THE SCENE. Because right before Aziraphale makes his offer to Crowley. The Metatron has to make the offer to Aziraphale. And The Metatron plays Aziraphale like a fiddle.

The Metatron plays his cards exactly as he should right from the beginning, with ordering Aziraphale a coffee and making him drink it. It’s a subtextual threat, and Aziraphale probably doesn’t realize it, but Nina’s coffee shop is called “Give me coffee or give me death”. The coffee doubles as a gift from the Metatron to endear himself to Aziraphale and also as a signal to the audience that this guy is a very big deal, as well as a very big threat.

And then the Metatron separates our two entities from one another. Crowley has always given Aziraphale more courage when it comes to defiance, so Metatron invites Aziraphale away from the safety of his home(both the bookshop AND Crowley).

And then. And this is the Kicker.

The Metatron apologizes.

Not in the usual way humans do, but in the way that Crowley and Aziraphale do. By saying, I was wrong. You were right.

The Metatron praises Aziraphale. We were wrong about you.

The Metatron says that the only candidate for Supreme Archangel is him. You are heavenly.

The Metatron offers Aziraphale a way to bring Crowley with him. To bring Crowley back. We were wrong about Crowley.

Aziraphale looks at the Metatron in the face as the voice of God says Crowley’s fall was a mistake, and you can make it right. (The Metatron doesn’t actually say that in those words, but they ARE the words Aziraphale hears.)

So of course he’s excited to tell Crowley. Surely Crowley knows that his fall was a mistake too. Surely this is excellent news. The best news they’ve been given in a while. They were right after all. They can fix it. Together.

But then Crowley says no. And just as much as we think Aziraphale rejected Crowley—which of course, yes, he did—Crowley rejected Aziraphale too. And Aziraphale doesn’t understand why.

(And Holy Crap Aziraphale IS WRONG. Okay he’s wrong and it’s crazy, but I can follow the line right from before the beginning. Neil Gaiman and company, you are absolutely fantastic writers, I love how wrong they both are, and I love how wonderful they’re both trying to be, this was an incredible season.)

[whatthedamnhelldude]

This maybe has been said and I missed it but in s2e6, I’m pretty sure Aziraphale thinks Crowley has been sucked back into Hell after escorting the humans out of the bookshop. From Aziraphale’s perspective, Crowley has left with the humans into the street and is surrounded by demons. He doesn’t return, and Aziraphale becomes desperate to stop the attacking demons - “desperate measures must be taken.” In 1941, Aziraphale says “I knew you’d come through for me - you always do.” Crowley tries to run from his problems, but he always comes through for Aziraphale. Aziraphale knows Crowley wouldn’t just leave him, unless something happened. In Scotland, we saw Crowley helping the humans and being sucked back into Hell as a result. When Crowley comes back from Heaven, Aziraphale says “you came back” and you can hear the relief in his voice. His expression and tone of voice when he says he “did the thing with the halo” reads as “I got desperate because you didn’t come rescue me and I assumed you were gone.” Aziraphale knows Crowley will always come through for him, so since he didn’t this time, something must have happened to him and the most logical in this instance would be that Hell took him. They never get to talk about how Crowley was actually in Heaven, so this assumption never gets addressed.

Why does this matter? The Final 15. Throughout the series, Aziraphale says, out loud to Crowley, that he is worried Hell is going to destroy Crowley. And it appears that that fear has come true at least a little bit, and at least one time, in Scotland. So if Aziraphale thinks that Crowley has been captured and tortured by Hell again, and someone told him “if you come work for me, I’ll make it so Crowley is never under Hell’s power ever again by reinstating him as an angel,” I have a hard time believing that Aziraphale would say no. The love of your eternal existence has been in danger for millions of years, and someone offers you a way to keep them safe? Right after you think they’ve suffered from that very danger? I would take that offer, too.

To be clear, I don’t think Crowley should have taken the offer. He’s been abused by both Heaven AND Hell, and they are both better off without them. I also think that, just like Crowley doesn’t quite say what’s on his mind - he doesn’t tell Aziraphale what he saw of Gabriel’s trial or that what he really wants isn’t to run away but to love Aziraphale openly as a couple - Aziraphale doesn’t quite say what’s on his mind either - he doesn’t care about either of them being angels but he does care about keeping them safe. I also want to be clear that I don’t think Aziraphale wants to be angels together in Heaven. I really think this boils down to keeping both of them safe and, bonus, they get to stay together.

Yes, they need to talk to each other and yes, some of Aziraphale’s comments were shitty (“you’re the bad guys.”). But I think the show is too well-written for all of Aziraphale’s character development to be thrown away and their long, long history completely forgotten in the last 15 minutes of episode 6. I think the world of Good Omens is too rich and deeply layered for that.

Let me know what you think!

[crushmeeren]

Warnings; Female Reader, Female Anatomy Used, Kissing, Pussy Eating, Vaginal Sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex (Double Penetration 😏), Dirty Talk, Praising, Cream Pies! Generally just fluffy and smutty, my personal favorite combo.

Note; Well here it is, my Crowley/Reader/Aziraphae one shot. It’s written with a female bodied reader because I’m female and that’s what I know best. I loved writing this. Once again it became very long and I could not stop the train. Hope everyone who wanted this enjoys it.

AO3 Link; The Devils Hour😈

Word Count; 7.5k

If anyone would like me to write Gender Neutral or Male Reader One Shots, let me know! I would love to do that!☺️

It’s 3 am. You notice after glancing at the red numbers on the digital clock currently sitting on your nightstand. It’s the devils hour. Which is kind of funny considering you’re missing the actual demon that usually occupies part of the bed. It’s completely dark in your shared room, the only other light is from the moon peaking through the curtains, letting you see occasional shapes as you look around the room. You hear the sounds of cars driving down your road once in awhile, and you just hope it’s Crowley, pulling up in his Bentley, Queen music blaring.

You’re halfway laying on your belly and your right side, left leg bent and tucked up beside your waist as you reach out a hand to run it over the soft blanket on the side of the bed that Crowley usually sleeps on. Except right now it’s empty. The blanket feels cool to the touch and it’s unsettling. You grip the blanket tightly, knuckles turning white, before releasing it. The bed’s just too big and it teeters on the line of feeling wrong without Crowley there with you and the Angel.

You start to feel a tug in your chest at the familiar ache of missing the demon. The uncomfortable emotion settles in your heart heavily, sinking into your chest, almost like a lead balloon. It weighs you down and presses you into the mattress a little bit more than before. As you lay there contemplating your misery you hear the blanket rustle behind you and you’re reminded you still have your sweet Angel in the bed with you. It makes you feel a tad lighter.

“Angel,” you breathe out, feeling a warm, steady arm wrap around your waist from behind, pulling you closer. Aziraphale curls up against your back, shifting a knee to get between the soft skin of your thighs. Pillowy lips press a kiss into the back of your neck, over a knob in your spine, which he has access to since your hair’s pulled up into a bun.

“Is everything alright my dear? Why are you awake?” Aziraphale questions, voice quiet and raspy with sleep. You scoot back as much as you can into his embrace and rest your hand on the forearm that holds you.

“I miss Crowley, I thought he would be home by now,” you respond, voice thick with emotion, eyes stinging, threatening to fill with tears. You feel as if you’re being a bit over dramatic but who cares, you miss him. You would miss the Angel just the same if he were gone. You pull the soft blanket up over your shoulder, covering you both.

He brings his hand to the bottom of your large T-shirt. It’s some older, worn one Aziraphale never wears anymore. He wants to get closer to you and he slips that hand underneath, fingers rubbing the skin of your belly soothingly this time as he wraps his arm around you even tighter in comfort.

“I know my love, I miss him too. The old boy is alright. He’ll be home soon. He can’t stay away from us for long, you know that,” Aziraphale says, tone reassuring, nuzzling the back of your head gently. You can feel his warm breath on your neck and it makes you shiver slightly, goosebumps erupting up your arms and legs. An involuntary pulse of arousal makes your pussy clench around nothing. You try to ignore it. Which of course doesn’t work.

“I know, I just, well it’s been awhile since we’ve all been in bed together. I miss being with both of you,” you say shyly, craving the intimacy and pleasure that comes with the three of you having sex together. Missing the way one of them stretches open your pussy as the other presses into your tight arse. The image flashes behind your eyelids and your cheeks burn as your entire body feels too hot. Your pussy clenches again and you squeeze your thighs around the Angels knee for some relief. Aziraphale feels the way you press your pretty little arse into his pelvis, feeling his dick twitch at the sensation.

“Darling,” Aziraphale starts to coo, “You’re missing our demon that badly huh?” he teases, fondly of course, raising up on one elbow to lean forward and press a sweet kiss to the side of your neck.

“Yes.” It comes out as a breathy moan. The Angel hums against your neck. He lets his soft lips trail over your earlobe and whispers in your ear.

“Maybe I can help you feel a little better, my pretty little doll.” You breathe in sharply. You can definitely feel your own heartbeat in your pussy. Warmth pools in your lower belly instantly. The Angel presses his knee a little bit further and puts pressure against your aching clit. Just that little bit of contact feels so good, making your limbs tingle warmly. It makes you crave the loving he’s so gifted at giving.

“Please Angel.” Voice on edge, as you squeeze your bare thighs around the knee he has pushed against your pussy. You rock your hips, grinding your clit onto his knee a couple times, groaning softly. Aziraphale watches your movements, feeling your warm pussy rubbing against his bare leg through your panties, a slightly wet sensation. Your sweet noises reach his ears and his entire body flushes hotly, his cock jumping against your arse, filling out steadily. He can’t help but slip his knee free and roll you onto your back, eager to keep going.

You let him manhandle your body and your head ends up resting on a pillow. You look up at his pretty blue eyes. He bites his bottom lip and helps you bend your legs at the knee, placing your feet on the mattress. You only make one short sound of protest at the loss of his touch and he laughs brightly.

“There, there my love, I’ll be touching your pretty body again shortly,” he says, playfully as he makes his way closer between your thighs, pushing them wide open with his hands on your knees. He decides to shove off the fuzzy blanket that was covering the two of you, it had start to just pool around his waist. It gathers at the end of your bed.

You lick your lips and reach out for Aziraphale with a soft pout on your mouth. You grab a fistful of his shirt and tug him to you. His lips pull into an amused smile and he lets himself be pulled. He rests his elbows on either side of your head, gently relaxing his weight down onto you, and you both groan at the feeling of your chests pressing together. His body crushes you slightly and for some reason it turns you on even more. You can feel his warmth through both your shirts and it makes your nipples harden.

You yearn to kiss him, so you grip his shoulders and pull him down to your mouth. Aziraphales sweet, plump lips slotting against yours perfectly. The Angel makes you feel safe, loved, happy and your kiss conveys all of that. He tilts his head as he moves your lips together slowly, intimately. The kiss starts to feel like heated honey, the sweetness of it soothing some of the bitter ache you both feel missing Crowley.

You moan into his mouth and poke your tongue out to run it against his bottom lip. You hear him whine as he opens his mouth instantly letting you in. You twist your tongue with his for a moment just tasting him before sucking his bottom lip into your mouth. You chomp down, biting it and releasing it with a wet sound. He moans low in his throat.

“Oh, you’re such a little tease aren’t you?” Aziraphale tickles your ribs softly as he leans down to kiss your neck. You let out a happy giggle, pushing at his hands without much force. You let yourself enjoy the feeling of his mouth, melting under his touch in a puddle of warm goo. His hands trail down your sides to the bottom of your shirt. He grips the edge of it and sits back on his calves so he can pull it up and off of you. You sit up a little and let him strip you, tossing it to the side. The cool air hits your chest giving you goosebumps again. As you lay back again, his fingers have already slipped into the waistband of your panties. You let out an accidental laugh.

“You’re so eager Angel,” you say, teasing him. He looks at you and grins, giving you a wink. You bite your lip and tilt your head down to watch him. You decide to be proactive and lift your hips for him. He makes an approving noise as he tugs them down your legs, again tossing them aside carelessly. Aziraphale runs his hands appreciatively over your soft thighs and up your belly. You whimper at the feeling of his warm hands. He smiles at you lovingly and leans forward to nuzzle at the space between your breasts. You feel a sharp pinch, like being stung by a bee and you know he’s sucking a love bite into the skin there. You let out a yelp at the sensation of teeth as your hands shoot up to tangle into his soft, white curls.

“Oh! Oh-hah that feels so good Angel.” Whining as he shifts his head to the left, sucking a nipple into his mouth. Aziraphale wraps his lips around your perky bud and sucks harshly, tongue flicking up and down. A low moan vibrates in your chest and your back arches up into his touch. You’re starting to sweat as your thighs clench around his hips and he presses his pelvis down into your groin. His covered cock spreading the slick folds of your pussy. He releases your nipple with a pop and gasps sharply at the feeling of your warm pussy rubbing against him. He pushes his hips up, grinding against your clit, sending tingles of pleasure and relief up your spine.

“Azi,” you say, whining. You let the last syllable drag out. He knows you’re starting to feel it as you only use that nickname when you’re in bed.He snickers a little bit, moving his hips slowly, letting his cock drag continuously through your folds and against your clit. It’s soaking his briefs.

“Hmm? Is your pretty pussy feeling good my sweet girl?” he whispers, in a way that sounds like he’s teasing but it’s wrapped in a loving tone. Aziraphale doesn’t usually speak so filthily, at least not outside of the bedroom. He pushes through the embarrassment each time because it turns him on so much seeing your sweet reactions to his words.

“Yes! Yes, S’good Azi, want you inside Angel.” Crying out to him, you dig your nails into his forearms. Heavens, that really sets him off. He knows his cock is flushed and hard as steel. He can feel the throb of heated arousal in his groin and how his briefs are sticking lewdly to his leaking tip. He groans your name and leans down to kiss at your collarbone. The feeling makes your eyes flutter closed, tilting your jaw up as you lose yourself in him.

“Well, for hells sake, don’t you two just make the loveliest picture. Couldn’t wait for me to get home huh?” A smooth voice purrs from the open doorway of their room. You and Aziraphale immediately freeze in place at the sound of his voice, breaking apart as you shoot up to sit straight up in the bed and the Angel turns on his knees to face the demon. Crowley flips on the switch to the low light of their room, bathing them all in soft, warm light.

Both of your faces light up like the sun as you recognize the voice belonging to the red head and you’re both scrambling off the bed and shooting towards Crowley. Your foot almost getting caught in the blanket as you tumble off the bed. The demon laughs happily as the two of you wrap your arms around his waist, sandwiching him in between you and the Angel. You not caring you’re completely naked and Aziraphale not caring he’s sporting a raging boner that’s poking Crowley straight in the thigh.

“Miss me did we?” Crowley teases in a smooth voice, as he lets himself be squished, absolutely loving it. Sounding like a cat who doesn’t want to admit he wants affection. The two of them release him as they all smile happily.

“We missed you so much love, I didn’t think you’d be home tonight,” you say, voice full of love, excited now that you are all three together. Crowley slips his glasses off and walks to place them on the side table, shrugging off his jacket and toeing off his shoes.

“I wasn’t sure I’d be home tonight either but I couldn’t stand being away for much longer,” he replies, with a smirk.

“Yeah, that’s what Azi said too,” you comment offhandedly, in a joyful tone of voice. You move to sit on the edge of the bed and Aziraphale walks closer to Crowley, getting in his space. Crowleys eyebrows raise up at the nickname as he looks at you briefly before making eye contact with the smug looking Angel.

“Azi huh? Just how good was the Angel making you feel, you pretty little demon,” he says, with a smirk, knowing you only call the Angel that when you’re in bed, when you’re getting all needy and whiny. When you start to feel so good your words slur and you beg the Angel to pound you. Your cheeks turn a bright pink at his words. Aziraphale speaks before you can.

“Oh dear, I was just getting a little bit of a taste of our girl before you came home. I thought you’d enjoy a bit of a feast when you got here. I had a feeling you’d be home late like this…wanting a late night snack my love,” the Angel says, in a teasing voice, sounding ridiculously seductive. Crowley grins wickedly in return and leans down in Aziraphales face.

“You’re such a good Angel,” Crowley coos, as he leans closer and presses his lips against the Angels. Aziraphale sighs happily and wraps his arms around Crowleys neck, melting into the kiss as their lips move together sensually.

You wiggle where you sit on the edge of the bed, belly heating dangerously as the atmosphere between the three of you charges significantly. Crowley fitting seamlessly into the situation, like he was never even gone. Watching the two of them together is bewitching. The way their lips meet and move together with a slick noise. Crowley tugging Aziraphale forward by his hips. Seeing flashes of their tongues disappear in each others mouths. Your pussy throbs repeatedly and you can’t help but let out a whine, wanting their attention. They break from the kiss but not their position, still glued together. Both of them turning their heads to look at you, faces looking way too smug.

“Feeling left out my love? You’re such a needy little demon.” Teasing you, Aziraphale breaks away from his embrace with Crowley. He walks towards you and stops a few inches away from your spread thighs. You nod and bite your bottom lip. You maintain eye contact with Aziraphale as he hooks his thumbs into his briefs and slowly pushes them down his hips. You then watch as his cock bobs free when the waistband of his briefs catches on it. He pushes the underwear the rest of the way off. You can’t keep your eyes away from his pretty pink cock. Thick, but not too long. You reach out a hand to wrap your fingers around his dick but he grabs your wrist. “Not yet my dear. Let’s wait for Crowley okay?” he says, softly, eyes sparkling with amusement at your eagerness. Your lips turn into a small pout and you nod reluctantly as your eyes glance over to see what the demon is doing.

Crowley took advantage of you being distracted and had busied himself with shedding his clothes, leaving him in his briefs and black tee currently. You bite the inside of your lip while you run your eyes over his lanky figure. You notice the Angel so the same. Crowleys lips tug into a one sided smirk.

“Love,” the Angel calls out, gently, to get your attention. You look up at him once again. “Why don’t we get a better view of our gorgeous boy huh?” he says.

“What do you have in mind?” you question, curiously, wondering what’s running through the Angels brain. He pointedly says nothing as he gets on the bed next to you and crawls to the headboard. He props up a couple pillows against the frame and he turns to lay his back against them, letting his legs fall open as he plants his feet.

“Come sit in my lap love, let’s enjoy a show and watch Crowley get undressed,” Aziraphale says, with a sly smile. Your belly flips eagerly as you nod excitedly and quickly move up the bed. You turn around as well and sit in between his legs. You rest your back against his chest as you recline, you can feel his heart beating steadily. Aziraphale maneuvers you until each of your thighs are resting on the outside of his, spreading your legs and pussy open. He wraps his arms around your waist as you watch Crowley move to the end of the bed, standing by the edge. His eyes roam your spread body. As his serpent eyes make their way to your cunt, he licks his bottom lip, forked tongue flicking out, and he palms his dick through his underwear.

“C’mon Crowley, we wanna see you get naked,” you say, feeling amused. You feel the Angels soft breath on your neck as he chuckles. Crowleys head tilts back as he laughs.

“Eager for me?” he jokes. You both nod and Aziraphale squeezes your waist again and rests the side of his face against yours.

“Yes dear, we’ve missed seeing your body,” Aziraphale says, eagerly. Crowley wiggles his eyebrows and he reaches for the bottom of his shirt and in one movement pulls it off, letting it drop on the ground. You both cheer softly. Crowley laughs and hooks his fingers into his waistband, lingering. “Doesn’t our dear boy look so..enticing?” The Angel whispers in your ear. You shiver and nod. The Angel trails one hand from your waist down your belly slowly. He brushes his fingers through the curly hair on your mound. Your heart rate picks up and you feel liquid heat in your belly as he softly places his pointer and middle finger on your clit. You inhale sharply, legs flexing around the outside of his thighs. Crowley watches the movements of his Angels hand and he bites his bottom lip. You see Crowleys cock fill out completely in his briefs as the Angel starts to rub slow, tiny circles into your clit. You feel Aziraphales cock start to harden again against your back. Your head falls back onto his shoulder and you moan loudly as pleasure smolders through you, straining to keep your eyes open and on Crowley. “Ah, that’s a good girl, keep those pretty eyes on Crowley love,” Aziraphale praises, moving his fingers a little faster. You began to breathe a little heavier, wiggling slightly and Crowley can’t wait anymore. He pushes his briefs off and steps out of them.

You’re letting out soft sounds of pleasure and you reach out a hand for Crowley, making a grabby motion at him. He smiles and makes his way up to you both before sitting on his haunches. He grabs your hand and squeezes your fingers before letting your hand rest against your belly. He makes eye contact with Aziraphale briefly as you watch them have some sort of mental conversation, before Crowley smirks. The Angel slows his fingers down and you make a protesting noise. He stops and slips a finger up and down through your folds, covering it in slick before pulling it away. You cry out, whimpering his nickname. He giggles and whispers in your ear.

“What do you want my pretty little doll?” Shifting in place, you flex your open legs briefly.

“I- I want his mouth,” you mumble softly, eyes glued to the demons lips. You’d been thinking about Crowley eating you out for a week now. It being the star of many of your recent dreams. The other two snicker.

“I can’t hear you dear, can’t you speak up,” Aziraphale says, in a bit of a condescending tone, teasing you and kissing the side of your neck. You burn with embarrassment, but it just turns you on even more.

“Such a whiny little demon, can’t even tell us what she wants. Angel, I think she wants me to eat her pussy.” Crowley grins, letting his tongue flick out again. You feel the Angels dick twitch against your lower back at the words. He loves watching Crowley eat you out.

“Oh yeah?” he giggles. “Do you want Crowley to eat your pretty little pussy love?” You groan loudly, feeling so unbelievably turned on by the filth that leaves their mouths. Aziraphale holds onto your hips and makes a tsk sound, like he’s disappointed before he speaks. “Now my dear, use your words. Tell Crowley you want him to use his wicked mouth to eat your pussy.” Crowley rubs a hand soothingly up and down your thigh.

“Yeah sweetheart, tell me you hearts desire,” Crowley teases, trailing a finger down the crease between your wet heat and your thigh.

“Fuckk, Crowley please, I want you to eat my pussy,” you say with a whine, feeling too hot in your skin, legs tingling from where they’re stretched open. You hear Aziraphale inhale sharply as the words leave your mouth. Crowleys smile can only be described as hungry. He moves onto his belly in between your thighs in a way that can only be described as a slither. Your breath catches as his face gets close to your pussy.

“Good job sweetheart,” he says, breath fanning over your clit. Your hips twitch upwards involuntarily in response. Aziraphale rests his chin on your shoulder and looks down to enjoy the view. Crowley keeps eye contact with you both as he closes the distance and his tongue pokes out to slide between your folds and up to your clit. He licks stripes into your clit, swirling his tongue in a circle.

“Fuck! Crowley, oh god!” you choke out, moaning lowly as swirls his tongue leisurely. Your hands shoot out to tangle in his red hair, tugging tightly. His eyes flutter for a second and he moans against your pussy. You and Aziraphale watch the demon with undivided attention.

“Heavens, this is beautiful. You’re such a good girl, letting Crowley eat your pussy.” Aziraphale says, voice breathless. His arms tighten around your waist and you feel his dick throb. Crowley wraps his lips around your clit and sucks gently, flicking his forked tongue at the same time. Your thighs tense against Aziraphales, wanting to close around the demons head. Your eyes squeeze shut as your head falls back onto the Angels shoulder. A wail tears from your chest.

Crowley digs his nails into your thighs and he starts to make out with your pussy. He rolls your swollen clit over and over between his lips, using his tongue to help push you closer to the edge. Your slick and his saliva coating his lips. You can feel it drip down to your arse and onto the bed. You feel Aziraphales fingers grip your jaw, squeezing and tugging your chin so your head tilts down to watch Crowley.

“Eyes open, my dear. Be good,” Aziraphale coos. You start to pant and force your eyes open to watch the demon devour you. Crowley takes one hand off your thigh and brings it close to your pussy, dragging it through your folds as he sucks on your clit again. He rubs the flat of his tongue up and down your clit in a steady rhythm.You jolt in slight surprise as you feel a miraculously lube covered finger rub circles over your arse hole for a moment, trying to loosen you up.

“S-shit Crowley!” you say, shakily as his finger just glides into your hole smoothly all the way to his last knuckle. The demon sucks gently on your clit to help ease the ache. The Angel brings his hands up to grip your breasts, after letting go of your jaw.

“You think you can take both of us tonight my love?” Aziraphale asks, gently and noses at your jaw. You nod quickly, arse tightening around Crowleys finger and he pops off your pussy for a moment, starting to pump his finger and kissing your clit once more shortly.

“Oh, she likes that Angel,” Crowley purrs, before quickly pulling his finger back and adding a second. He presses them in gently past your rim, then all the way in. You moan at the familiar uncomfortable sensation of you arse stretching to fit his fingers, insides throbbing dully.

“I know she does,” the Angel giggles. Aziraphale brings one hand off your breasts back down to rub circles into your clit again, using the saliva left from Crowleys tongue to make his fingers move smoother. You cry out his name and your hands grip his forearms harshly.

“Azi! Yeah-yes, want you both, need you both at the same time!” The other two moan in unison.

“Fuck, okay, yes, let me stretch you a little bit more okay doll?” Crowley rumbles, Aziraphale moves his fingers a bit quicker on your clit and your pussy clenches around nothing as your tight heat squeezes Crowleys fingers. Aziraphale takes his fingers off your clit and grips your breasts again, pinching your nipples between his fingers. He sucks bites into your shoulder, letting you enjoy the feeling of Crowleys fingers in your arse. You sigh in relief, clit getting sensitive and moan at the feeling of fullness. The burning ache, dulling to a pleasurable tingle. The demon focuses on stretching you open for a few more moments. You feel your back start to stick to Aziraphales chest, feeling him nuzzle into the back of your neck, holding your waist again. The demon adds a third finger, spreading them in the process.

“Crowley,” you moan, softly.

“What is it my sweet little demon?” he asks, looking up at you.

“I’m ready, please, no more,” you say, breathily.

“You ready Angel?” Crowley asks Aziraphale, knowing the Angel is brimming with anticipation.

“Yes my dear, I want to be inside of her so badly,” he responds eagerly, thrusting his hips slightly, rubbing his dick up against your back. You feel the discomfort of Crowley slipping his fingers free and you whimper. Crowley sits up on his knees and smiles widely. You reach your hands up to grip his cheeks, pulling him forward into a kiss, realizing you hadn’t had the chance yet. He hums softly against your lips and you kiss sweetly, his lips feeling like coming home. It only lasts a brief moment, all three of you too worked up to wait longer. Aziraphale unwinds his arms, releasing your legs and sneaks out from behind you. He sits at your side and Crowley in front of you.

“Doll, how do you want us this time?” Crowley asks, caressing your cheek with his hand. You look between the two of them and your cheeks heat up. Aziraphale is a little bit thicker then Crowley, meaning he’ll stretch your arse out more, which could be uncomfortable. On the other hand you haven’t seen Crowley in a week and want to be face to face with him, feeling his dick stretch your pussy. They wait patiently for your answer. Each of them with a hand around their cocks, aching for relief.

“I think, I think I want Crowley to be in my pussy this time,” you say, as your blush travels to your chest, feeling a little guilty. Aziraphale notices the guilty look on your face and he leans close to press a kiss to your cheek. He leans back and looks into your eyes.

“Love, don’t feel guilty, there’s nothing to feel bad about. You know I love being inside of your tight little arse.” Grinning, he backs off again. You giggle lightly. Crowley smiles at you both and moves to lay on his back on the bed. He bends his knees and plants his feet.

“Well then pretty girl, come sit on my dick,” Crowley remarks, looking all too happy with himself. You roll your eyes playfully and move to straddle his lap. You feel the heat of the Angels chest on your back as he settles between Crowleys legs.

“Azi, will you help me?” Without turning your head you speak to Aziraphale and you watch Crowleys cock jump as you speak. You wink at him. He sticks his tongue out at you with a little hiss. Aziraphale moans into the skin of your shoulder.

“Heavens love, you’re gonna make me cum before I even get inside of you,” he replies, he grips your hips guiding you to lift onto your knees. You obey and stay still as one of his hands snakes under you to grab onto Crowleys leaking, hard cock. You both hear the demon let out a hiss. Aziraphale lines up Crowleys cock with your soaking pussy. Aziraphale teases you both by rubbing Crowleys tip through your folds, spreading them gently and you both whine, you dig your nails into the demons chest. You hear the Angel laugh before he lets the demons cock catch on your pussy and he tugs your hip, pulling you down onto Crowleys cock. When you start to feel the delicious stretch of the demon, Aziraphale stills your descent.

“Wait love.” Scooting back the Angel gets a better view of you two.

“Angel, c’mon stop teasing us, let me inside her pussy,” Crowley all but growls, you make a sound of agreement. Aziraphale laughs brightly, loving to torture you both a bit.

“I just want to be able to see that’s all dearest. You wouldn’t deny me the gorgeous view of you filling her up would you?” he says, voice teasing. Crowley just groans in response. Aziraphale presses a hand to your lower back, tilting you forward a little bit, exposing you more. He grips both of your arse cheeks and spreads them open. “Perfect,” he breathes. “You can let him fill you up now darling,” he says, squeezing both cheeks.

“How lovely of you to let us start having sex Azi,” you say, sarcastically. He hums in response, eyes glued to where you and Crowley connect. You let yourself sink down onto Crowleys cock, letting him stretch your pussy open blissfully. You and the demon cry out simultaneously as you bottom out, sitting fully in his lap. “Crowley, you feel so good, oh god.” Choking on a moan you brace more of your weight on him.

“For fucks sake sweetheart, your pussy always feels so good. You take me so well, yes just like that pretty little thing,” Crowley cooes. You hear the Angel behind you whimper softly at the sight. You feel Aziraphales hands grip your waist as he encourages you to start riding the demon.

“Azi, shit, shit, yes that feels so good,” you cry out, using your thighs to ride Crowley. Every time you move up and down you feel his warm cock drag against the walls of your pussy, creating friction so good you feel heated sparks shoot up through your spine. Crowley talks a big game but now a he’s a moaning, needy mess beneath you, fingers gripping your thighs tight. Aziraphale looks over your shoulder at Crowley as you ride him.

“Oh Crowley, such a pretty mess you make. Her pussy making you feel good dear boy?” he says, voice soothing. Crowley nods and lets out a groan from deep in his chest. All of a sudden there’s hands on your hips, yanking you down onto Crowleys cock, making you sit still in his lap. Your pussy clenches tight around Crowleys cock, and you gasp sharply. The demon curses in return. “My loves, I can not wait any longer. I need to be inside your sweet arse my doll, need to feel my cock caressing Crowleys,” he says, voice trembling, hands smoothing up your back.

“Yes, yes okay Azi, fill me up please, want you both.” Wiggling your hips in the Angels grasp.

“Are you ready dear?” Addressing Crowley quickly, he already has a hand pressing into the middle of your back, forcing you to bend more and you place your hands on either side on Crowleys head, staring into his snake eyes.

“Yes my Angel, please I want to feel you both,” Crowley answers, voice breathy, making steady eye contact with you. “You can do it my sweet little demon, you can take him, we’ve got you,” Crowley coos, framing your face with his hands. You whine and your eyes widen as you feel the head of the Angels thick cock press against your arse. He must’ve miracled more lube onto his cock, because the tip of his dick pops in past your rim easily. You choke on an inhale feeling a flash of stinging pain as he lets you adjust and he rubs your lower back lovingly, while he tries to keep still. Your arse so tight and warm. So slick it’s almost already too overwhelming for him. You let out a strangled whimper, already feeling the burning ache turn up a notch. The two of them whisper sweet nothings to you and massage whatever skin their hands can reach as you take deep breaths.

“Azi, please, move, fuck me,” you almost sob. The sensation pushing the edge of too much.

“Yes dear, doing such a good job, look so pretty taking both of us.” Aziraphale babbles, whispering sweet praises as he slowly fills your arse all the way up, balls pressing against your skin. He waits only a few seconds before pulling his hips back and thrusting forward again smoothly. Aziraphale starts to find a steady rhythm and the pain starts to fade into immense pleasure, making you sigh with relief. Crowley lets out a sound that must’ve been punched out of him as he feels Aziraphales cock start to drag against his through your slick and warm walls.

“Fuck! Angel, your cock feels so good against mine, hah, she’s so damn tight.” Crowley feels white hot pleasure crash over him in waves and his toes curl as he tries to thrust upwards to match a somewhat steady pace with the Angel. Aziraphales head falls back as he lets out a throaty moan.

“Heavens Crowley, you do feel unbelievable.” As they both start to move your arms give out. The sensation of being filled in both holes overwhelming to say the very least. You have to rest your chest against Crowleys and bury your face in his neck. You cry out repeatedly into his skin, letting out little ah’s as they pleasure you. You hold onto the sheets by the demons head with a death grip. He murmurs your name lowly in your ear.

“You’re such a good girl, taking us like I knew could. Your pussy is unbelievable, you love this don’t you sweetheart,” he says, hushed and quiet in your ear. You’re so blissed out you can’t respond right now, just writhing in his hold, trying to gulp down air. Crowley grips your arse tightly while Aziraphale keeps his hands on your hips. Both of them pulling and pushing in and out of you, filling you over and over. They stretch you to your limits as they both move a bit faster, finding a faster rhythm now. Never leaving you without one of their cocks filling you up.

You all listen to the wet smacking sounds of wet skin meeting wet skin lewdly. Aziraphales hooded eyes meet Crowleys and they interlace their fingers together on the left side of your hip, fucking into you almost roughly now. Your belly tightens dangerously, heat warring in your stomach. Your pussy starts to flutter around Crowleys cock and you know Aziraphale can feel it in your arse too. You get the strange pressure in your pelvis that signals you might squirt and your heart races.

“Crowley,” you whine, words pressing against his neck.

“I know sweet girl, I know, you’re about to cum aren’t you?” The demon soothes you while pressing a kiss the the side of your head. He pants in your ear as he works to keep up the rhythm Aziraphale set. Aziraphale’s been listening to the demon whisper into your ear and he bites the inside of his cheek, his heart warming at the sight of the two of you. It makes his cock throb as he locks eyes with Crowley.

“She’s gonna cum Angel,” Crowley warns, Aziraphale taking the chance to brace one hand on your upper back, pushing you down into Crowleys chest. He’s still holding Crowleys hand. He breathes heavily as he moves his hips, fucking into your sweet spot through you arse in long, fast strokes.

“I know my love,” he breaks off, groaning. “I-I’m afraid I’m getting close as well. Her arse is just too tight and with the way you feel against me, I won’t last much longer,” he says, whiny edge to his voice. Crowley nods and wraps his free arm around your waist, hugging you tightly.

“I’ve been trying not to c-cum this whole time,” Crowley replies, breathless laughter ringing out as he fucks up into you harder. Just like that you wrap your arms around the demons neck, wanting to be even closer to him as the coil in your belly releases. The unbearably warm pleasure of your orgasm gushes through your limbs, feeling like warm caramel. Your body tenses as you sob into Crowleys neck. Your pussy and your arse clenching suffocatingly so around the cocks currently working you through your climax.

“Oh, oh, hah, so good, pretty girl, doing such a good job, making me cum with your sweet arse,” the Angel spews, words spilling out of him, unable to stop. His hips stutter before he’s pressed all the way in, balls tightening and he starts to cum, filling your arse with sticky, warm release.

Crowleys able to watch as the Angels face twists with pleasure, eyebrows scrunching and his mouth falling open into an o shape. Cheeks flushed pink as his eyes fall shut. He squeezes the demons fingers and your arse with the other hand.

“You’re both so pretty when you cum, fucks sake, it’s not fair,” Crowleys whines, moving his hips harder as Aziraphale holds you still. You’re only able to relax for a few seconds before they hear you suddenly gasp.

“Azi, Crowley! I’m gonna squirt!” You cry out, tone frantic, feeling panicked as you cum for a second time. You squeeze around them both. Aziraphale cries out at the overstimulation and Crowley throws his head back onto the pillow and moans through his teeth. Your body trembles and you hang onto Crowleys shoulders for dear life and pleasure sparks through you again, only this time the pressure in your pelvis releases and you feel yourself squirt all over the demons belly and pelvis, Aziraphale can feel it on his balls, making him shiver. You let out a muffled scream into Crowleys shoulder.

The feeling of you squirting and watching the Angels face as he cums, it shoves Crowley off the edge. Not push, it brutally shoves him. He lets go of Aziraphales hand and presses his palm to the back of your head, tucking your face into his neck as he starts to cum. His other arm squeezes your waist even tighter.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m cumming, oh shit.” Crowley cries out, cumming hard. Harder than he expected and he swears his vision whites out and his ears start ringing as he lazily thrusts his hips upwards. He feels like he’s been bathed in sunlight, blood buzzing. Aziraphale groans through his teeth as he feels Crowleys warm cum through the thin layer separating them, the demons dick throbbing in your pussy.

Your body shakes from the overstimulation where you lay on Crowleys chest. You all take deep breaths as you feel the Angels sweaty forehead on your back. After giving everyone a moment to return to their bodies, Aziraphale pulls out first. He does so slowly, knowing him being in your arse is a big cause of the overwhelming sensations you’re feeling. You whimper softly as his softening dick slips out of you and he flops down on one side of Crowley. You twist your head to look into his blue eyes as Crowley releases you from his iron grip.

“Are you alright my sweet doll?” Aziraphale prods gently, brushing hair off your forehead, as he noticed some of your hair falling out of the bun you put it in earlier. You nod your head.

“Yes, yeah I’m okay, I just feel exhausted.” You smile goofily. He presses a kiss to your forehead and your lips. You hum appreciatively and kiss him in return briefly. You two share a sweet, loving look. You lean back a little so you can look into Crowleys eyes, wanting to check on him.

His cheeks are flushed but his eyes are closed. You and Aziraphale glance at one another and you giggle. Aziraphale props himself up on one elbow to see the demons face. You lean down to kiss each one of Crowleys cheeks and he mumbles incoherently before opening his eyes. “Are you back in the land of living Crowley?” You ask teasingly as you brush your noses together in an intimate gesture, giving the demon butterflies.

“Barely,” he responds with one word, making you and the Angel laugh. Crowley grips the bottoms of your thighs and pulls you up his waist a little bit, letting his cock slip out of you. You wiggle uncomfortably as you feel their releases now start to drip out of both your holes. Not to mention the mess you made of Crowleys belly.

“Can one of you miracle away this mess please?” you request.

“I’ve got it my love,” Aziraphale responds, voice sweet and he waves his hand once, making the mess you all created disappear. You all but purr against Crowleys chest in return.

“Thanks Angel,” you say happily. “Should we make Crowley sleep in the middle tonight?” you ask Aziraphale, who hums thoughtfully in response. Crowley cuts in.

“No no, you two are like heaters, I’ll sweat to death if I sleep in the middle.” You slide off the demons chest and you lay on his other side, feeling sore all over.

“Nope too late, you’re sleeping in the middle, right Angel?” you ask, slipping an arm around his waist, resting your head on his chest. Aziraphale giggles. He sits up to grab the blanket at the foot of the bed and pulls it up covering all three of you. Laying down he wraps his own arm around the demons waist as well, rubbing your forearm softly.

“Crowley you can’t say no, you’ve been gone all week dear. Give us this one thing.” The Angel replies, cheekily. Crowley turns his head to glare at Aziraphale who takes the chance to kiss him, pressing their lips together sweetly. Truthfully, Crowley really can’t say no to either of you.

“Fine! Fine, but only tonight,” Crowley relents, pulling away from the kiss. You use a finger to turn his head by his chin. You kiss the demon as well. Crowley moans softly at the feeling. You pull back and lock eyes with your Angel, who smiles at you both with a look that says he’s in love.

“Come here, kiss me sweet girl,” he whispers. You can’t help but lean over Crowley to kiss Aziraphale just as eagerly.

“Oi, oi! No kissing over me, I don’t have the energy for another round right now.” Crowley says, pouting. You and Aziraphale part, nuzzling noses for a second before each laying back down on your respective sides of Crowley. You all snuggle up closely.

“Welcome home Crowley, I love you both,” you whisper, happily as someone snaps their fingers and the light shuts off, blanketing you all in darkness. You feel the demons arm snake under you and curl around your waist and the Angel tangles your fingers together, letting them rest on Crowleys belly. They both whisper I love you in return. Your heart feels full as you no longer lay in an incomplete bed.

[wraithee]

I have two completely different ideas about the kiss.

The first is pretty common, that Crowley kisses Aziraphale as a last ditch effort to keep him on earth/he thinks it’s his last chance to kiss him.

My second, is that Crowley and Aziraphale know that their relationship has always toed the line of temptation. The Job minisode shows that Crowley led Aziraphale with temptation into enjoying human delights. Something they both enjoy together. But physical intimacy has always been the line they do not cross together. And they know it. And Crowley won’t tempt him to it, Crowley loves Aziraphale and wants him to make that decision on his own, he doesn’t want to tempt him, he wants Aziraphale’s choice to be his own. He needs to be chosen without forcing his hand.

They’re close but not quite there yet at the end of s2. And out of nowhere, when Crowley actually thinks it’s about to happen for them, Aziraphale pulls the rug out from beneath him.

All he can hear is: It’s heaven, ‘you’re the bad guys’, come with me and be my ‘second’ not a team but below me, I can make you better like before.

He’s hurt and he’s mad, so when he kisses Aziraphale like that it’s also breaking that last unspoken promise, the line never to be crossed. He’s done it without Aziraphale wanting it. He’s done it out spite, and anger, and also because he KNOWS Aziraphale.

Crowley knows Aziraphale can FEEL this when they kiss. And Crowley knows that Aziraphale wants him. But he thinks Aziraphale is a lost cause. He doesn’t tempt, he takes instead. He knows it leaves Aziraphale wanting and that’s almost worse, because it shows him what they both have known. And also what Aziraphale is giving up and leaving behind.

[fuckyeahisawthat]

I’ve seen a few metas now that describe Crowley as self-loathing and…that’s not quite it to me.

Crowley for sure has Issues. He has a lot of anger and doesn’t always deal with it in constructive ways. He is hypervigilant as all fuck, and the fact that he is almost always correct about the amount of danger he and Aziraphale are in at a given moment just reinforces that hypervigilance feedback loop.

He has the hair-trigger flight response of someone who has spent millennia dodging oppressive forces that are more powerful than him, and this makes him default to RUN even when on some level he knows that is not the right response to a situation. He’s very aware that there are a lot of people out there who can hurt him, and there is no one coming to protect him. The only option is to try to avoid the blow.

And he is absolutely terrified of rejection, for very understandable reasons. This also encourages him to have one foot out the door of a situation, to pretend he doesn’t care, because if you leave first and actually never cared at all then you can’t be hurt. He is painfully aware that good things can be taken away from him without warning, that love that looks absolute can turn out to be conditional, because that already happened to him.

But. As much as I love a self-loathing blorbo, I don’t think Crowley hates himself.

Sure he talks a good game about how he’s not nice. But I don’t think, for example, that he thinks he is unworthy of Aziraphale’s love, that he is not good enough for Aziraphale because he is a demon or for any other reason. Because as far as Crowley is concerned, angels and demons are the same! All that good and evil stuff is just names for sides. I think he is afraid, because he’s still not sure, after all this time, if Aziraphale feels the same way he does, and broaching that topic is an enormous risk compared to just staying in the ambiguously-defined status quo they have now. (And then he works up the courage to do it anyway, and seems to have his worst fears confirmed.)

FWIW, I don’t think Aziraphale thinks that Crowley is not good enough for him either. Not at all. But I think Crowley might think that Aziraphale thinks that after the end of s2. And that really stings, because as much as they both gave lip service to the idea of “I’m good, you’re evil,” I think Crowley always assumed that Aziraphale saw through that when it came to him as a person, that it was just something Azirphale said and not something he really believed about Crowley, and now he’s not so sure.

I also think Crowley believes he did not deserve his fall (hot take: none of them did) not because he is extra-special Good, but because that’s a fucked-up thing for someone who said they loved you to do. While he is clearly still dealing with the trauma of it, I think he knows by now: I shouldn’t have been hurt like that. I didn’t deserve it, and it wasn’t my fault.

And so the horror of Aziraphale accepting the offer of going back to Heaven is partially I thought we both understood how this system works; I thought we were on our own side together and partially I can’t believe you’re going back to the people who hurt you and at least a little bit I can’t believe you’re going back to the people who hurt me. Do you think they were right?

(And Aziraphale doesn’t! He doesn’t think that! He thinks they were wrong, but he thinks they were wrong about Crowley, that it was an individual mistake and not a feature of a system that squashes questioning and nonconformity of any kind.)

I wrote a whole meta about “I won’t be forgiven, not ever” and “unforgivable, that’s what I am” in 2019 that I won’t rehash here, but tl;dr, I don’t think Crowley is saying that as a statement of his self-worth. I think he is saying, Heaven would never let me back in, and if they did, I wouldn’t go. Because I don’t want or trust the “acceptance” of people who don’t value me as I am.

And it’s part of the cruel dramatic irony of the Final Fifteen that one of the things that breaks them apart is that Crowley values himself enough not to go back to Heaven. Crowley, who we’ve seen will do almost anything for Aziraphale, says, No. I am not putting myself back in that abusive situation. You shouldn’t either; I really wish you wouldn’t; but if you do, I am still not going back there. Not even for you.

[avocado-writing]

For nightingale, aziraphale, and Crowley, could you write something with them going on holiday or honeymoon to a museum or historical site, and remembering old times together? Maybe they discover one of them in the background of a historic photo or they’re mentioned in a piece of writing or turn up in a painting or a statue? I just need more of those 3 so whatever you feel like, dealers choice <3

aziraphale x reader x crowley (good omens)

third chapter of this. kissing you on the lips anon for requesting it.

rated M for light smut.

1.5k words.

if you like what I do, here’s my ko-fi!

Your marriage is a quiet little affair.

It has to be, really. Can’t have a big crowd wondering how three people are able to all wed each other. It’s hard enough miracling the registrar to not notice anything out of the ordinary, let alone worrying about having a bunch of guests second-guessing the technical legality of the thing. 

Luckily, it all goes reasonably smoothly. The registry office isn’t busy on a Thursday afternoon, it doesn’t take long to get in and out. Yes, all three of you sign these documents, that’s absolutely fine. Congratulations and I hope you have a happy future together.

Rings on fingers, plain gold wedding bands binding the three of you to each other. Chaste, meaningful kisses and wide smiles.

Being married to them doesn’t feel any different, but then again you suppose it wouldn’t. You’ve been together for longer than any human has ever been alive. You were all practically married anyway, getting the paperwork done was just… the cherry on top.

“Well, now what do we do?” you ask, stepping out onto the busy London street. Aziraphale and Crowley take a moment to consider this question, as if they hadn’t really thought about it either.

“Lunch?” the angel says, just as the demon replies “bed?”

You laugh, and the three of you end up doing one and then the other.

Crowley kisses you both hard the moment that the bookshop door shuts, pausing only to flip the sign firmly to ‘very closed’. You trap Aziraphale between your bodies, knowing how much he loves to be showered with attention, and strip off as you retreat through the nonfiction section to the well-loved sofa in the break room.

It feels like there isn’t time to go upstairs. It’s time to consummate this marriage here, now. 

“Come on, angel,” you hum as Crowley sheathes himself inside him, making Aziraphale’s eyes roll in pleasure, “like Geoff wrote, ‘In wyfhode I wol use myn instrument as frely as my Makere hath it sent’.”

Despite the overstimulation as you sink down on him, Aziraphale laughs. Crowley cocks an eyebrow.

“What on earth are you going on about?”

“Inside joke, I suppose,” you reply wickedly, before silencing any further questioning with a kiss across Aziraphale’s shoulder.

When you’re done breaking in the marriage bed - after you finish breaking in the marriage couch and then the marriage kitchen counter - the three of you lie together, limbs tangled, the two of them feeling you breathe. 

“You know what we should do?” you eventually pipe up, lost between twisting your fingers in Aziraphale’s curls and running your hand up the length of Crowley’s thigh.

“Look, I’m happy to go again, just give me ten minutes,” Crowley murmurs. You almost get caught up in it as the angel plants a kiss on your bare shoulder, but snap yourself back to reality before they can delay your train of thought further.

“No! - I mean, yes, but also, we should go on a honeymoon.”

“Oh!” Aziraphale says, lighting up, “That’s a wonderful idea. I can’t remember the last time the three of us took a holiday together. One where we didn’t have to also do some work, anyway.”

“It was Stockholm, nineteen-seventy-five,” Crowley states without missing a beat. The two of you both look at him, and it clicks.

“Oh god, it was, wasn’t it?” you laugh. Of course. Was it that long ago?

“The Eurovision final! Goodness, how on earth did we forget?”

“Repressing painful memories?” the demon suggests. It was one of those trips he’d clearly not been very pleased about, but insisted his chaperoning was better than the alternative of letting you and Aziraphale run wild around Sweden.

“I can’t believe you had a perm for that whole decade,” you say to Crowley, who just groans and slings his arm over his face to hide.

“I thought it was very fetching,” Aziraphale reassures, squeezing his husband’s - husband’s! - hand. 

“Well, why don’t we go somewhere a bit closer to home?” you suggest. “Somewhere like, I don’t know, Edinburgh?”

“I like Edinburgh. Well, apart from one statue, but we don’t have to go and see it I suppose,” Aziraphale agrees. The two of you look over to Crowley. He lifts his arm just enough for you to see the sparkle in his yellow eyes.

You set off a couple of days later in the Bentley, boot packed up tight with suitcases (none Crowley’s, one belonging to you, the rest Aziraphale’s; he insisted he needed to bring at least twenty books ‘just in case’). With Crowley’s driving the eight hour journey takes about five, and soon you’re at your little bnb planning how you’re going to spend the week.

And it’s lovely. You do all the touristy things, the guided tours, the hidden gems, and slowly making your way around what feels like every pub in the city. You and Aziraphale eat a quite astonishing number of lunchtime finger sandwiches, and Crowley takes you out dancing to a little hole-in-the-wall joint he had a hand in founding a couple of decades ago. Your heart is full and you realise over and over again just how lucky you are to be able to spend your life with the two people you love most in this universe.

On the last day, you finally do the big one: Edinburgh Castle. You’ve been in there but only once, and that was a couple of hundred years ago. It’s changed but not as much as you thought: it’s nice to see the conservation work people are doing in old places like these. Saving little pieces of the past.

You’re walking through one of the little side corridors - a place you’re probably not meant to actually be on the tour, but one of your husbands has a way of making locked doors open and the other is very good at getting people to forgive you if you’re found going through them.

Up ahead they’re bickering. About what you can’t say. You’ve learnt to tune it out unless it’s about something actually important. Despite that you almost miss it, walk right past the bloody thing - but then you catch the flash of paint out of the corner of your eye and do a double-take.

Your mouth drops open.

“Oh my god. You two, come here and take a look at this!”

Aziraphale and Crowley halt their quibbles and double back to stand at your side. They’re both as shocked as you are.

“Oh,” Aziraphale gasps.

“Huh,” Crowley mutters.

“It’s us,” you state.

It is. An oil painting, ancient. The only description is a tiny plaque which sits beneath it in tiny lettering: a portrait of a gentleman and two ladies, c 1665. No more information is given, which is clearly why it’s been delegated to a back room rather than hung in somewhere more important.

But there’s no mistaking it: Aziraphale in his white jerkin and doublet, Crowley in a black dress with his hair down, and you in the middle. Dressed in rich colours, heavy jewellery hanging off you. Your lovers hold either one of your hands in theirs, the three of you looking out serenely towards the viewer.

“We commissioned this for your birthday in sixteen-sixty-five. Do you remember, Nightingale?”

You nod. Yes, you remember the two of them trying to surreptitiously get you to pose while someone caught your likeness in a sketch to transfer later to canvas. Portrait sittings were an exhausting thing and there was no way they were going to trick you into believing anything else was going on.

“I thought it was destroyed,” you whisper, gobsmacked. The three of you had lived in a little London townhouse around the time, when your relationship was still young. And yes, a birthday present it was: right before the great fire of London had broken out. You’d had to evacuate the city as quickly as you could, no time to save anything as unwieldy as a painting.

But clearly it hadn’t burned. Someone had saved it - or nicked it, more likely, before the blaze got to it - and now it ended up here. In this corridor. Where the three of you had just happened to trespass to find it.

“Miraculous,” Aziraphale breathes, and you can only agree.

“Should we try to get it back?” Crowley asks. “I’m sure there’s someone I can blackmail in this castle.”

“No. No, let’s leave it. I quite like it here. A little piece of us somewhere, preserved in time, you know? It’s lovely. Besides,” you turn to your husbands, “I get to have the two of you every day now.”

The three of you take a moment to let the idea soak in; and then you kiss in the quiet of the castle corridor. Happy. Looking forward to the future you’re now allowed to live.

“Now,” you announce after a beat, “I think we’d better get some lunch and then I’m going to go and graffiti that statue of Gabriel. You’re welcome to join me.”

“Oh absolutely,” says Crowley just as Aziraphale tuts “certainly not!”

You talk him round though, and by that evening, he’s doodled a moustache on the smug archangel’s marble face with a sharpie.

[demonioenelespacio]

I really love how s2 of Good Omens is written, because you have so many clues about what is going to happen at the end, the offer, the motivations behind the choices of all the characters… You have everything on the plate to cook an amazing recipe.

You start the season with them as angels and end it with an offer to be both angels again (just like s1 started and ended with a Garden). You get a brief glimpse of The angel who became Crowley, we get to see how they were so passionate about their work, you can see their joy. I mean, look at them

Can you really blame Aziraphale for thinking that the offer is amazing? When that could mean that Crowley is this happy again.

But… The spark that our demon is missing is innocence, and that’s something Crowley can’t get back, ever (unless they delete his memory??).

Crowley is bitter and angry and anxious, but we know he can experience that joy from Before, because we can see that when he is making it rain for Maggie and Nina. We saw a real smile.

Aziraphale didn’t.

But the offer is not because he wants to change Crowley, because he knows who Crowley is now and loves him as he is. And because he knows that Crowley is still the same caring and kind being he was Before.

“I know you”

“You do not know me”

“I know the angel you were”

“The angel you knew is not me”

Yeah, it’s true, but that scene is to show Azira that he is still kind, he didn't kill the sheep, he is not going to kill the children. So, yes, Crowley isn’t that Angel, but the core is the same in the end.

There is also the fact that… Do you think Aziraphale ever thinks about how he planted the seeds of Crowley's Fall?

This is the face of an angel who is going to end the career of another angel WITHOUT REALISING IT.

That Angel didn’t know about Earth, about humans, about the Great Plan, they were busy making stars. If Aziraphale had never told them that, would Crowley have thought of asking questions?

First offence and all of that… How unfair. How could Aziraphale make it right again?

The “Exactly” scene is so important. They are so stupid (affectionary).

They mean the same thing (We can be together) but saying different things; a phrase (Nothing lasts forever) meaning different things for each of them. They don’t talk, they don’t really speak each other's language.

Also, the final scene is more painful, but we have the same argument in ep1:

“Oh, right, this is how you wanna do it?”

“No, I would love you to help me! I’m asking you to help me take care of (Heaven). But if you won’t, you won’t”

*Crowley leaves*

How can they have broken up so many times without ever being together (screams).

In ep1 we also have the two little mini half-miracles. And I have read some people take that as how powerful Crowley is, but come on. This Big Miracle is clearly because they are working together, the two of them together are more powerful than anything else. And boy, that rang an alarm in my head when I first watched the season, because… Crowley said in s1 that they will be waiting for the next Big Thing, this war "Heaven and Hell vs. Humanity". You want the best in your team, right?

Because if they are not… they can be against you.

So, yeah, I saw Metatron and was like “ok, here we go”. And look, his offer is to Aziraphale, because he is an angel, but Metatron doesn’t blink an eye before mentioning Crowley too. He wants both. But whatever, if Crowley doesn’t want to go to Heaven, if Heaven only gets Azirphale, well, success either way! Because if you separate the two of them, they are no longer a threat .

Also the fly, flying around very very noisy. You have Beelzebub saying they want Gabriel surrendered to them and acting a bit weird. All the clues there (I must confess I didn't expect the ship to be canon, I just thought they might be talking more lol. A nice win).

All this just thinking about episode 1.

The last thing I want to touch is Maggie and Nina talking to Crowley before the confession. Because… They told us what was going to happen.

They can’t be together, because Nina has to get over her previous toxic relationship before she is ready, and then, only then, they can try, if Maggie waits (she will wait).

Aziraphale has to get over his toxic relationship with Heaven before he is ready, and then, only then, they can try, if Crowley waits (he will wait).

[gingiekittycat]

The thing is, Crowley never says he doesn't want to be an angel again.

When Aziraphale is getting really excited about the prospect of restoring Crowley to full angelic status--"we're having a ball," "perhaps you can tell me while we dance" levels of excited--Crowley isn't over there saying, "How dare you," or "I don't want to be an angel again," or "You don't know me at all," which are all reactions we'd expect... If that's the way he felt.

What he says is, "Heaven is toxic."

Because being an angel again isn't what's holding him back. All Crowley's said for years is, I go along with Hell as far as I can, and I didn't mean to fall, I sauntered vaguely downwards, I was bored at lunch one day, I only ever asked questions, I'm unforgivable. That's all he's said, and that's all Aziraphale has heard, words of regret. And maybe they even talked about it. Maybe they even talked about the parts of Heaven that Crowley misses, in a perfect universe, maybe we could have still been angels together, doing good, isn't it a nice thing to dream, isn't it a nice fantasy?

But the thing that Crowley knows that Aziraphale doesn’t is that this particular fantasy can't come true. You can't make it a reality. But Aziraphale, see, that's where he lives, in the fantasy. Like the cotillion ball, right? He manipulates the humans and ignores the danger to play out his fantasy, and Crowley can only see it going that way in Heaven too: Aziraphale turning a blind eye in favor of delusional happiness while Crowley trails behind him, terrified, hissing that there's danger lurking all around.

Because there is danger in Heaven. Crowley knows. All the demons do.

Sure, it would be nice. Everything safe, everyone safe and restored to who they were before the Fall, doing good as angels are meant to do, without hiding, without trauma, without being afraid. It's a nice fantasy, but it will never happen. Not in Heaven, anyway. Because Heaven is toxic, Crowley has learned that the hard way, and it's a knowledge you can't unlearn with a simple status change.

He doesn't want to unlearn it, anyway. The serpent of Eden is the last person who will choose "ignorance is bliss" over truth.

So I don't think we should fault Aziraphale for wanting Crowley to be an angel with him. For dreaming about the fantasy. Crowley himself has probably even dreamed it.

If Aziraphale has any fault, it's believing that Heaven is the place that can make that fantasy can come true.

[wordsinhaled]

Aziraphale returns to Earth, but his memory’s been wiped, like Gabriel’s was. He instinctively comes to the bookshop, but Crowley’s not there.

Muriel’s there, instead.

Muriel doesn’t really know what to do with him and Aziraphale… he doesn’t remember being Aziraphale. Just that something drew him inexorably to London, to this neighborhood, this street, this shop. He’s still wearing the bespoke new clothes he was given in Heaven, not a stitch of tan or tartan or vintage fabric anywhere on his person.

He’s subdued and pensive at first, robbed of his usual verve and lust for all of the beautiful things in life; and he doesn’t remember how he takes his tea, or even that this is his shop, actually—it couldn’t be. That’s absurd. He doesn’t believe Muriel that he is, in fact, an angel named Aziraphale. An angel owning a bookshop in Soho. Really, it couldn’t be any more fantastical if it came right out of a fantasy novel, could it?

Nina and Maggie come by, and when they see Mr. Fell’s condition Muriel very, very narrowly convinces them not to take Aziraphale to A&E right then and there.

And then Crowley shows up.

He’d stayed away, for a bit, at first. He’d wanted to stay away for always, maybe wish himself to another star entirely (not Alpha Centauri, that one was utterly out of the question, thank you very bleeding much). But being in his new, empty, hyperminimalist flat with only his plants for silent company is leagues worse than any torture hell has ever thrown at him before. It doesn’t really bring him the joy it used to. If he’s honest, which he would prefer not to be, nothing much does; but maybe that’s just what life as a demon is supposed to be. Joyless and colorless.

And so he’s taken to coming by; only for a bit, only about once a week if he’s very disciplined. Someone’s got to make sure Muriel hasn’t sold any of the books, don’t they?

And. Well. It hasn’t been that long, really, since Aziraphale left. Sometimes Crowley just walks up and down the street. Orders a nine-shot espresso from Nina. Visits Maggie’s shop, takes a listen through the records she keeps aside for him even though he’s never asked her to do it. But in the end, he finds himself back at the threshold of the bookshop, pulled there like iron to a lodestone. It’s all very… regular, very boring, very mind-numbingly bland and dull without Aziraphale there with him, and yet… it’s the only place Crowley’s found ever that feels remotely like home.

So. Crowley shows up.

But this time he looks through the window and almost discorporates on the spot, because that’s Aziraphale. That’s Aziraphale standing in the bookshop, lit gold by an afternoon sunbeam.

It’s worse, somehow, seeing him right there within reach, than it was simply remembering him. It feels a bit like being crushed slowly in a vise: a vise with great big spikes in it for good measure. Aziraphale is back. Back on Earth. Back in the bookshop, and he didn’t even look for Crowley, didn’t even try to find him—

(Of course he didn’t, Crowley reminds himself, because he’s not on their side any more. And there it is. There’s the lick of bitter, blunted anger he’s become used to, twisting round his heart alongside the aching, terrible grief he wishes he were too proud, or too disaffected, to still feel.)

He almost doesn’t go in. It would be better, not to go in, wouldn’t it? It would. He can pretend to himself, to everyone, that he’s there to look in on Maggie, or to pop into the brand new plant shop just opened a few doors over, he really has been eyeing the gorgeous Persian carpet flower hanging in the bay window. He doesn’t have one of those—

But blast it all, it’s almost like he’s summoned her because suddenly Maggie’s there with him on the pavement, and she’s a lovely girl, really, on most days, only he wishes she wouldn’t sound so distraught on this particular day, when Crowley’s already suffocating. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she’s saying. “It’s Mr. Fell. He’s back. And—I think he needs you.”

Crowley… well, he scoffs all the way to the shop door, scowls at the cheerful jingle of the bell, scoffs harder still as the door creaks shut behind him. It’s fitting that Aziraphale’s standing now turned away from the entrance, all the better not to see him skulk in. Aziraphale’d made perfectly plain that he doesn’t need him at all.

But all of Crowley’s thoughts go right out of his ridiculous, hopeless, besotted head the moment Aziraphale turns round to look at him.

He looks…

The tailored clothes he’s wearing are doing a surprising amount of wonders for him, actually. That’s Crowley’s first thought, he’s a bit ashamed to admit. The cool grey silk of the suit makes Aziraphale’s eyes an impossibly bright, crisp blue, or maybe it’s that Crowley’s forgotten somehow how blue they always were.

Crowley’s second thought is that he hates how much he’s missed him. He hates how, already, his shoulders are dropping down from where they’ve been perpetually scrunched up about his ears for weeks, just at being in the same room. He can’t stand the treacherous lump rising in his throat and the way the scent of violets follows Aziraphale everywhere and really, he’s got to thank someone in this hope-forsaken universe for the paltry sanctuary of his bloody sunglasses, because...

“Oh,” Aziraphale says to him. “Hello. I’m—”

“Aziraphale,” Crowley breathes, a little wetly.

“—Ezra,” Aziraphale finishes.

Crowley blinks. He takes a swaying step backwards. “…Ezra,” he says. And a part of him, see, a part of him is still livid, it really is, still bruised and raw and curled in on itself somewhere deep inside like a wilting blossom. But another part of him is—is confused. Aziraphale hadn’t chosen him. He knows that. He can come to terms with that. But surely… surely they aren’t going to be like this, now.

“Well, yes,” Aziraphale says, “of course. Ezra Fell. That is my name, isn’t it? And this! This is my shop. Naturally.” He smiles at Crowley beatifically. That smile, at least, seems unchanged, if the way Crowley’s chest seizes at the sight of it is anything to go by.

“Right,” Crowley says. “…Naturally.”

“And how may I help you, sir? Is there a particular title you’re looking for? Though I must tell you quite up front, I’m told I dislike selling books, but you might, if you’re very careful, be permitted to peruse them on the premises. You do look like a nice fellow, after all.”

And it’s then—only then (too late, he thinks, and isn’t he always too late?)—that Crowley begins to realize something is very, very, very wrong with Aziraphale.