#i think if aziraphale HAD to take care of a baby no choice he would give them some cocoa

[everysongineverykey]

i love how unfatherly crowley and aziraphale both are when it comes down to it. sure aziraphale is more than willing to give the young people in his life help and advice and be their friend but he and crowley spent six years (eleven in the book) practically raising a kid (you just know his parents weren't around that often) and by the end they didn't even like him. crowley even suggested they just fucking kill him. he turned three kids into lizards for annoying him right after he destroyed their house. like it was that or kill them obviously but he did NOT hesitate with the newts. that's so funny to me. they're just inherently disinclined to parenthood. we need more characters like them actually

[thegoodomensdumpster]

Can't stop thinking about your Crawleigh drawing, its so compelling. I feel sad for him getting rained on all alone...has he been on earth alone all this time? Will you draw him again? Is there a way to learn more about his story?

OOOOOH you have no idea how delighted I am that I received this ask ! You just enabled me to drop all my Crawleigh feelings out in the open. Thank you so much for that. First of all, for those who might have missed it: here the fanart @yeoldehetalian​ is referring to (yes I’m showing it again because I love Crawleigh he’s so baby)

If you are not aware: Crawleigh was the proto version of both Crowley and Aziraphale in Gaiman’s first draft of what was going to become Good Omens, a little piece of writing called William The Antichrist. After he sent it to Pratchett, the latest made the excellent suggestion to split Crawleigh into the two characters we’ve come to know and love. From memory, here is what we learn about Crawleigh in William The Antichrist: -is baby -not very good at being a demon -waited for the plumber a whole day -didn’t do any evil deeds because he was waiting for the plumber to arrive -the plumber never came and Crawleigh was really put out so he said nothing -saves all the neighbourhood cats from trees they get stuck in -can’t be mean to humans because well they are nice to him so ??? -has been tortured in Hell after the whole Atlantis debacle (which implies that he was the reason Atlantis sunk I guess) -drives a Citroën 2CV -doesn’t seem to really have any magical ability ?  Uh maybe there’s something else but I don’t remember. But you get the idea. He’s baby. In the picture below (yay ! new Crawleigh fanart !) you can see Crawleigh and his entourage of cats. I was conflicted on whether the rescued cats would take a liking to him or if they would be scared of his demonic aura, but I couldn’t bring myself to draw the Bad Cat Ending so, there, new headcanon: all the animals Crawleigh rescues take an immediate liking to him and their presence become an every day life nuisance. Kindness contains the seed of its own destruction lmao)

The boy is gonna trip on the stripped cat, I can tell you that much. ANYWAYYYY.... Here comes the fun part where I dump all my Crawleigh thoughts. More below the cut!

So, considering how GO works with binomes and mirrors, I decided to back engineer WTA by removing the duos. Crawleigh is a mix of Crowley and Aziraphale; there are two other characters that are respectively a mix of Anathema and Newt and a mix of Tracy and Shadwell (not entirely sure what that would entail tbh; so far I’m imagining two female characters, and Anewthema is the most fleshed out. She’d be something like the descendant of both a witch and a witchfinder and would be very conflicted about her heritage, having troubles making sense of magic being a thing when she has raised rationnality to a degree that it has become a dogma. Or something like that. Anyway I think that’s a cool base.) Now about William himself, the Them and the mirrors. I thought, by removing the duos and therefore the mirrors, Crawleigh would end up trying to stop Armageddon all by himself. This means that one of the core themes of GO, the fact that people have to work together and every contribution, as little as it is, is never unsignificant, isn’t really applicable anymore. Because the theme has to be shared by all the protagonists. In GO, Adam can refuse to destroy the world because not only does he like the world, but also because he’s got a whole network of support. So I think, if Crawleigh ends up having to try stopping Armageddon on his own, that should be the link at the very least between him and William (I would have said between him and all the other main characters but let’s be honest: a story where none of the main characters interact together is not very appealing). And thus we get a story that isn’t about relying on support of other people but on doing the right thing and gaining self confidence and loving yourself even when all the odds are stacked against you and you don’t have anyone to really rely on. I would imagine Crawleigh beginning the story as an obedient (tho ultimately useless) demon with little backbone and regrets and no self confidence, and through the pressure of Armageddon, discovering a very strong and very good part of himself that would end up with him saying fuck to Hell and repairing his plumbery all by himself.  As for William, well, he would go along the same way. I don’t think he’d have the Them with him. At least not yet. Maybe he’s a little weird, has trouble making friends. Maybe the other kids at school make fun of him. Maybe there is this group of kids that seem cool but he’s too shy to approach them.  And I imagine after a pep talk from someone ( Anewthema probably ? After all Anathema is the one talking to Adam in GO so it’d be fitting ) William would realize that because his life sucks a little it’s not by destroying the world - a world that he actually loves ! he’s built up a fort in Hogback woods all by himself! he loves nature and animals! - tht it’s gonna get better. He won’t be able to make any friends if there is no one around to make friends with. (This adds the non neglectable bonus of making the Horsemen “friendship” offer all the more tempting to a young boy who has never really had any friends and is aching for it).  So ultimately, Crawleigh and William would be like “yes, I am weird. Yes, I am alone. Yes, it makes me suffer. No, I’m not gonna be a bastard because of it. Maybe it’ll get better, maybe it won’t, but I’m gonna do my darn best to take care of myself even if nobody else will”. So, it’s less cotton candy than GO, but I think it’s a great message to pass along. Self love, self discovery, self confidence, staying true to yourself even in dark times. Also the fact that being alone / single is not necessarily a bad thing, can be a choice and something you can live with very well. Crawleigh and / or another one of the main characters would end up like “I am actually fine like this”. And... that’s pretty much it. There, you’ve got all my thoughts and reasonning about, basically, how I would have decided to write the whole William The Antichrist novel lmao. I’m not gonna write it though. But if anyone feels inspired and want to give it a go based on my ideas, by all means. Feel free to borrow or to contact me if you want to brainstorm more ideas / make a collaboration.  Why not. I’ve got too many Crawleigh feels.

[perhapsitmaybedragons]

A Little Nudge

The world is garbage and I’m writing fluff so I don’t have to think about it. Good Omens one shot. Fluff. Very dialogue heavy, because I like writing Dialogue.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26556994

Or you can keep reading below:

Crowley drummed his nails against the kitchen table as he watched Adam do his homework, periodically wondering which one of them was more bored and whether homework was an invention of Heaven or Hell. Crowley hadn't had a hand in it, that was all he was certain of. Seemed like something Aziraphale would approve of, though.

This had been a new Arrangement, and one Crowley had no designs in. But both he and the angel were certain Adam had retained some, if not all, of his powers. And both were convinced their sides were still up to something, so it made sense to keep an eye on the boy. But it hadn't been intended to be so closely. Just a little while after Crowley had started watching him, he started getting phone calls to come baby sit. Aziraphale, on the other hand, just came by every once in a while pretending to need to talk to the Youngs about mundane things like the weather.

Which just further proved Adam's powers were still there. How else had Mr. Young gotten Crowley's phone number? And how else could anyone explain that both Mr. and Mrs. Young always looked wary around Crowley, but still allowed him to watch their kid? Or that they both got a glazed over, bored look whenever they so much as caught sight of Aziraphale, but still always answered the door when they saw it was him?

Crowley could be patient when he needed to be, and he was wondering when the kid would break and admit why exactly he wanted Crowley to look after him. Especially when his parents had previously left him to his own devices. Adding in an authority figure didn't seem like the kind of thing Adam would decide to do.

But today he kept glancing up from his homework, apparently stealing himself for the favor he was about to ask. Crowley made a point of leaning back in his chair, trying to look relaxed. He was curious and also wanted to get it over with. His mind had gone over all the possibilities for why Crowley had been the one selected for babysitting duty, and none of the options seemed good.

It was unlikely, for example, that Adam wanted to know about his father – he made it very clear that Mr. Young was his father, and the biological one could go back right to where he came from, thank you very much. Possibly he wanted to know what hell was like. Or what the limits of his power were. Or how much trouble he could get into with his powers plus the help of a demon.

But what Crowley wasn't expecting was for Adam to put down his pencil, sit up straight, look Crowley in the eye and ask “Why aren't you and Mr. Aziraphale married yet?”

He folded his hands like he was a business man giving a performance review. Crowley crossed his arms. “And why would we be?”

“It isn't proper,” Adam insisted, “Mum says people in love get married. That's you two, and you've been in love for a while. Is it cause you're both blokes?” before Crowley could respond “I mean, you both look like guys but that's legal, and my dad says,” And here he adopted a gruffer voice, trying to mimic his dad, “'well, it's uh...it's not for me and I don't understand it but there's uh...there's nothing wrong with it'. And Pepper's mum says it's perfectly natural and ok for two guys to get married if that's what they want,” He paused for a moment and added, almost like an afterthought “Or two ladies. That's alright, too.”

“We're not technically male,” Crowley pointed out. “We're not human. Marriage is a human thing.”

Adam brushed it off, “But you're looking like us and acting like us. Wouldn't it help you blend in more?”

“I don't care if I blend in or not,” as though to make the point, Crowley whipped off his sunglasses so Adam could see his eyes. Adam had seen it before, but he always reacted the same way every time.

“Man, I wish my eyes looked like that,” he grumbled. And just like the last few times, his eyes would take on a snake like pupil for just a moment before flicking back to normal. “But you're trying to 'vade the question.”

“Evade?” Crowley suggested helpfully.

“Yeah, that. It's not right to be in love and not do anything about it when you can.”

“Why does a young boy like you care so much about what an old demon and angel are getting up to? Why do you want us to get married so badly?”

“Weddings can be all right. Wensleydale got to be a groomsmen in his cousin's wedding and he said he got a really big slice of a nice cake afterward.”

“You want us to get married so you can have cake?”

“No,” Adam said, pouting now, “I want you to get married because you love each other. And I want you to let me pick out the cake.”

Crowley chuckled in spite of himself. “That angel would probably never let you pick, he cares a lot about food. Probably already knows who the best caterer is in town for this sort of thing.”

“If you're not going to do it just say so.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you love him or not? Cause I thought when two people love each other they get married. And you're talking about everything else except whether you love him or not. And when Mr. Aziraphale came to trade gardening tips with mum he looked worried and I think he thinks your side's going to attack soon.”

“You want us to get married to take his mind off of Apocalypse 2.0?”

“Ugh, no,” Adam was getting frustrated. To him, it was the most obvious thing in the world – if you're an adult and you love another adult, you get married. Unless you were married to other people, like in that show his mum watched sometimes. Apparently, then you murdered one of the spouses together and then ran off to Mexico.

But Aziraphale and Crowley weren't married to anyone, and Adam had thought it was obvious that they were in love. At first, he thought maybe it was that part of him that just knew things – the part that had lead to that scary day not that long ago where the world had almost ended. But then Pepper had asked him about them, and Brian and Wensleydale had backed her up. It seemed ludicrous that with everything that had happened, they would all end up focusing on the love lives of the demon and angel involved but well, here they were.

“And have you talked about this with the ang-- with Mr. Aziraphale?”

“No,” Adam said simply, “I think he wants you to make the first move.”

Crowley arched an eyebrow. Here some part of him thought he'd been doing nothing but making moves on that angel for the last few centuries. “You are aware we're not a couple, right? Even for humans, you usually don't go from being associates straight to getting married.”

“I think you are a couple.”

“Those weren't the terms of our Arrangement,” Crowley muttered.

“Doesn't matter. Everyone already can see it.”

“You do know that just because people want other people to be together doesn't make it so, right?” Crowley thought for a moment of calling Aziraphale and making him deal with this, but at the same time he wanted to see where this conversation would go. “And that even if we are in love, the way you seem to think we are, we wouldn't have to get married? Even if we were human, humans don't always get married.”

“Not always, but the tax benefits alone usually make it the better choice than just living together,” Adam said with the authority of a child who had overheard that exact argument said by an adult once and was now repeating it with only the slightest glimmer of understanding. “He does know you're in love with him, right?”

“I thought you said we both loved each other,” Crowley was annoyed by how irritated his voice sounded – there was a twinge of longing there that he would like to have been better at hiding.

“Yeah, but I think he needs you to spell it out for him. He knows, but he doesn't know that he knows.”

“I think your parents let you watch too much tv, you know that? I think I should tell them not to let you watch so much of it, and to keep an eye on what you're watching.”

Adam shrugged. “You can try. But I'll still ask you about when you're going to ask Mr. Aziraphale to marry you. I bet you could propose to him with a book – I don't think he'd like a ring. But maybe he would, cause it could match his halo.”

“So you want me to tell him I'm in love with him and then immediately propose to him? That's the long and short of it there, right?”

Adam nodded. “Dog can be your ring bearer. I think I saw that in a movie once. But the dog ran away with the ring and everyone got upset-”

“You just told me not to get him a ring, why would we need a ring bearer if we haven't got a ring?”

Adam thought it over for a moment, cocking his head to the side as he thought. “Ok. So he could be one of the groomsmen with me. And it's not fair to let Wensleydale be one, 'cause he got to be one this year already. But he can be one of those guys who shows people to their seats. And if you ask Pepper to be a flower girl she's going to think I told you to do it and then she's going to punch me, so maybe ask her to be a groomsperson, too?”

“Have you planned out my entire wedding?”

Adam gave a guilty smile that told Crowley everything. “I will take your concerns under advisement,” Crowley had invented so called 'office speak' and this, along with 'per my last e-mail' was one of his favorite responses. It didn't really promise any action, but people responded as though it did.

“You should probably do it now, cause he's on his way over.”

“For what? Your parents won't be back from the movies this soon and he always checked in with them.”

“I told him she'd need help today at 4 o'clock,” he jerked a thumb in the direction of the clock on the wall. It was almost 4 and Aziraphale would either be a little early or exactly on time.

“You lied to an angel. You realize that, right? Literal being from heaven and you lied right to his face.”

“Did not,” Adam shook his head, “I lied to him on the telephone. It's not as bad.”

While Crowley was pretty curious about that particular leap in logic, he didn't have time to get into it with Adam. Aziraphale was knocking at the front door and Adam had jumped up to answer it.

“Hello, Mr. Aziraphale! Crowley's here, too.” Crowley couldn't help notice that Aziraphale always got a “Mr” in front of his name from Adam, but he was always just “Crowley”. He wasn't sure which way he preferred it, to be honest.

“Oh, hello,” Aziraphale greeted him, but then immediately began to look about for the Youngs. “Adam, where are your parents? I thought your mother needed help with something in the house?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“But that's why you called me,” Aziraphale frowned. “Did you lie to me?”

“Yep!” Adam nodded enthusiastically. “I'm sorry.”

“Doesn't look sorry to me,” Crowley muttered.

“Well, dear boy, you're forgiven, but can I ask why you lied?”

“Needed you to come over so you could talk to Crowley!” Adam admitted, ushering Aziraphale in and practically throwing him into a chair at the kitchen table. The one right next to Crowley. Adam shut the front door.

“Crowley and I talk to each other all the time,” Aziraphale only looked more puzzled now. He gave a small wave of his hand and his coat moved from being on him to being hung up neatly on a coat rack (that hadn't been there when he came in).

“Adam has gotten it into his head that,” And here Crowley stopped. He wasn't embarrassed by the thought that he and Aziraphale were in love. Crowley knew exactly how he felt about that angel. But the idea he had been so obvious that a child had picked up on it was making him uncomfortable. And despite Adam's insistence, he wasn't completely certain where Aziraphale stood on the topic.

“Yes?” Aziraphale prompted Crowley to continue.

“I could leave?” Adam suggested. “Give you two alone time?”

“In your parents' house?” Crowley didn't say it, but he wanted to point out that it wasn't the most romantic of locales.

“I could go up to my room or something.”

“No, no,” Aziraphale shook his head, “It's your house and if it's so important to you that we both be here, we should discuss it. Is this, perhaps, about your uh...non-earthly father?”

Adam pulled a face. “That guy's not my dad.”

“True, very true,” The angel nodded his approval. “But then what did you want us both here for?” He shifted his attention back to Crowley. “I'm sure we'd both try to help, whatever it is. We're both in that unique predicament of no longer being on the side of who sent us, so the three of us are ..ship mates, if you will.”

“Mating's got something to do with it,” Crowley muttered so low that neither of them heard him.

“You're an angel, right?” Adam demanded.

“Well, yes, but-”

“So you're supposed to tell the truth, right?”

“I don't know what you're-”

“And you're in love with Crowley,” Adam finished, his eyes boring straight into Aziraphale's.

“I'm not certain this is an appropriate conversation for us to be having,” Aziraphale sat up, ram rod straight and started dusting at his already spotless pants. “Is there something else I could help with?”

“No,” Adam said stubbornly. “If you're an angel then you should do it right. You have to be honest – do you love him?”

Crowley's breath caught in his throat. It had never occurred to him to press Aziraphale in this manner, though he was pretty certain he wouldn't have, even if he had thought of it. Aziraphale was resolutely looking away from both of them, staring at the floor. He looked like he was having an internal debate with himself. After what felt like an eternity of silence, he finally spoke up.

“Yes,” he said softly.

“Wait,” Crowley jumped out of his seat and flung his glasses off so that he could look Aziraphale in the eye. “You're in love with me?”

“Well, yes...” he admitted. “But aren't you in love with me, too? I had thought you were. Did I misunderstand?”

“Did you misunderstand?! Did you misunderstand?” Crowley paced back and forth in the kitchen. Adam and Aziraphale exchanged glances, both confused about what was going through the demon's mind now. “I didn't bloody think you felt the same! This whole time! How long, angel?” he demanded.

“At least since Germany...possibly further back. I don't know.”

“And this isn't one of those things where you mean like a friend, right?”

“No. I mean, at first, yes, I loved you like a friend and then it ...it became more.”

“And you knew how I felt and you didn't say anything?!”

“I didn't think I needed to,” he shifted. “I thought you knew and that we didn't do anything because of ...well, you come from there and I come from the other side so I didn't see how it could possibly work.”

“And now?”

“Now what?”

“Now what, he says!” Crowley threw up his hands and looked at Adam, giving a 'do you see what I've been dealing with all this time' look. “Now neither of us is with our original sides – heaven tried to kill you, hell tried to kill me and we were both tossed back here. Aziraphale,” Crowley put his hands on the other man's shoulders, “There is nothing holding us back anymore.”

“There's nothing holding us back,” Aziraphale repeated in wonder. “We could ...I could...”

Crowley pulled him up from his seat and immediately went in for the kiss. Adam looked away, trying not to intrude on their moment.

Aziraphale pulled away first. “There's a child present.”

“It's just a kiss,” Crowley muttered, “That kid's seen way worse on tv.”

“That's true, I have,” Adam admitted. “Neither of you has any secret spouse you're going to have to kill, right? I like you two, I don't want you to have to go off to Mexico.”

“What is he talking about?”

“No idea, angel,” Crowley had his arm around Aziraphale's shoulder and seemed intent not to move it.

“So are you going to get married now?” Adam persisted. “Now that you know he feels the same?”

“But we aren't human-”

“Don't even start with him, it's a lost cause, trust me. Look, Adam, we are not getting married. ….at least not yet.”

“Do you think we should?” Aziraphale looked thoughtful. “If we end up moving in together it would seem more proper, don't you think?”

“And it will save you money on taxes,” Adam offered helpfully.

“We'll revisit the question,” Crowley insisted. “You and I have a lot of catching up to do. You'll be all right then, Adam?”

“Yeah, my homework's done. Will you still come sit with me sometimes?”

“Do I even have a choice in the matter?” Crowley pointed out. Adam gave a crooked half grin in response.

“We all have a choice. You just needed a little nudge this time.”

[charliebrown1234]

Whumptober Prompt No. 7

No 7. I’ve got you

Support | Carrying | Enemy to Caretaker

London, 1888

“Aziraphale, look out!”

Aziraphale turns, startled, then looks back down at the child at his feet. With an angelic miracle Crowley can feel in his teeth, the child vanishes, leaving Aziraphale completely exposed to the explosion roaring through the armory. Crowley watches as the shockwave catches Aziraphale in the side, sending him flying, and in the millisecond before the blast hits him, Crowley snaps himself away.

He’s entombed, surrounded by crushing pressure and dirt and did he miracle himself into the ground? There’s the overwhelming pressure of Hell and then he’s -

topside, gulping breaths of air on his hands and knees. Aziraphale, he needs to find Aziraphale. He heaves himself onto his feet, staggering closer to the roaring inferno that was once the royal armory and scanning the dusty debris for any sign of Aziraphale. There’s no sign of him where he was standing, but if he’d been thrown by the blast -

There! A familiar form crumpled on its side, covered in dust and scorched by heat. Crowley stumbles over, shouting, “Aziraphale!” but Aziraphale doesn't move. As Crowley gets closer he can see the blood pooling under Aziraphale’s head. 

“Aziraphale, wake up,” Crowley urges, crouching and rolling Aziraphale onto his side. Oh, no, that’s far too much blood. It’s covering the side of Aziraphale’s head, and when Crowley touches the wound Aziraphale’s skull shifts in a way it’s not supposed to.

A small explosion behind them has Crowley cursing and fluttering his hands anxiously about Aziraphale’s face. What is he supposed to do? He can’t leave Aziraphale here, and he doesn’t know how to move him without doing more damage.

“Fuck!” Crowley hisses. What does he need? He needs to get somewhere safe. Why can’t he do that? Because Aziraphale’s skull is reminiscent of bloody Humpty Dumpty!

So all he needs to do is fix Aziraphale’s skull. He can do that. No problem. It’s not like demons are completely incompatible with angels. It’ll be fine, Crowley tells himself. He’ll make this work. With a deep breath, Crowley places his hand over Aziraphale’s damaged head and wills Aziraphale’s skull back together. He focuses intently, funneling energy into Aziraphale’s wounds, but only a fraction gets through. Crowley focuses harder, willing away the darkness at the edge of his vision until Aziraphale’s head feels less like Humpty Dumpty and more like a newborn baby.

“There,” Crowley pants, releasing Aziraphale’s head. “Now you need to wake up.” Nothing. Aziraphale remains as unconscious as ever, except now there’s blood dripping from his other ear. Not good. “Aziraphale, you need to wake up now!” Crowley says, tapping Aziraphale’s cheek. He spares a glance behind him, on the lookout for more explosions.

“I can’t carry you Aziraphale, someone might see! Hell’s the one who tipped me off about this, who knows who else could be around!” He’s getting desperate, almost shaking Aziraphale. “Aziraphale, please!”

A grey eye slides open, unfocused and dim. “Aziraphale! There you are, up and at ‘em.” Crowley is pulling at Aziraphale now, bullying him into sitting upright. Aziraphale goes white at the movement, eyes rolling, and Crowley holds Aziraphale close as the angel teeters on the edge of unconsciousness. “Stay with me,” Crowley pleads under his breath.

Aziraphale opens his mouth, but all that comes out are raspy, uneven breaths. “We’re gonna stand now, alright angel?” Crowley says, pulling them both onto their feet. Aziraphale is quivering against Crowley, eyes half lidded and almost completely limp, and his face is only growing paler. “Stay awake, angel, just keep breathing. We’re going to get somewhere safe, and then I’ll take care of you. Just one step at a time, alright?”

Crowley coaxes Aziraphale forward, holding him upright with Aziraphale’s arm over his shoulder and a hand fisted on the waist of Aziraphale’s jacket. The fine fabric is slippery, not meant for this kind of rough treatment, and Crowley knows that Aziraphale would be protesting if he was in his mind enough to care.

“There we go,” Crowley murmurs, encouraging another shuffling step forward.

Aziraphale groans weakly in response.

They need to get somewhere safe. Where is safe? Crowley can’t think straight, blessed bollocks to everything! All he can think about is Aziraphale’s wheezing breath in his ear and the smell of rusty blood coming from Aziraphale’s head. Crowley can feel the panic rising within him, thoughts of Aziraphale discorporating or someone from Hell finding them choking his brain with gibberish.

No. He needs to be calm. Or at least, calmer. Crowley forces himself to take a deep breath, filling his chest and holding the air. The smoke from the fire is grounding, hot in his lungs, and Crowley lets it loose again with a heavy exhale. They need to get out of range in case the armory explodes again, and then they need to find a room. Crowley can do that.

In the end, Aziraphale’s injuries determine what “out of range” of the armory entails. After several streets, Aziraphale’s breathing gets alarmingly raspy and uneven, and he starts to lean on Crowley so much that Crowley worries about his ability to stay upright.

“Just a little farther,” Crowley coaxes, holding Aziraphale as he gasps for breath. “I’ve got you.”

Crowley arbitrarily picks the nearest building and begins dragging Aziraphale towards it, hoping against hope that they’ll be rooms inside. Thankfully, his luck does seem to be holding, and there’s rooms to let upstairs. With a quick “notice me not” curse on Aziraphale and himself, Crowley heads toward the stairs in the back.

Aziraphale is flagging even more now, breathing labored as Crowley practically drags him towards the back staircase. They just need to get to the stairs, and then get up the stairs, and then -

The staircase looms before them, narrow and steep. Fuck, it might as well be bloody Everest. Crowley groans and leans Aziraphale against the wall, letting them both rest before attempting their next obstacle. How is Aziraphale doing? Hopefully not too terribly.

Crowley glances down, peering at Aziraphale where he’s sandwiched between Crowley’s chest and the wall. Bollocks, Azirpahale doesn’t look like he can make it up the stairs. His face is covered in sweat and sickly pale, which makes the blood stand out even more where it’s trickling from his ears. His whole body is shivering, ripples of exhaustion making his hair tremble on his blood stained scalp. Aziraphale’s eyes flutter as Crowley watches, like he isn’t sure if it wants to be conscious or not.

Unfortunately, unconsciousness isn’t an option for Aziraphale. Crowley needs him at least semi-conscious to get up these stairs, as there’s no way Crowley can get him up there when he’s dead weight. Not without a major miracle at least, and the last thing he wants to do is draw attention to himself.

Perhaps he could get Aziraphale up the stairs piggyback? That might work, if Crowley’s thighs can hold up. He’ll crawl at this point. With a quick shimmying maneuver, he twists himself so that Aziraphale is leaning against his back instead of his chest.

“I’m going to carry you up the stairs, okay?” Crowley says, pulling Aziraphale’s arms over his own shoulders. “I just need you to hold on, I’ll do all the work.”

Aziraphale’s arms are limp. “Aziraphale, please, just hold on for me,” Crowley begs, feeling pushed past his limits. “Angel,” Crowley whispers.

Aziraphale twitches.

“Aziraphale, I need you to hold onto my shoulders, or at the very least clasp your hands. Can you do that?” Crowley guides Aziraphale’s left wrist into the grip of his right hand and tries to ignore the blood that’s smeared on both their palms. Slowly, Aziraphale’s hand closes, and Crowley takes the movement as consent to lean forward and shift Aziraphale’s weight further onto his back. Something grinds in Aziraphale’s chest as Crowley moves and Aziraphale wheezes out a whimper in response.

“I know, I know, shhh,” Crowley says. “It’ll all be over soon, don’t you worry.” He leans further, takes Aziraphale’s thighs in hand and all of Aziraphale’s weight, then determinedly mounts the first step. And then the next step. Aziraphale’s head lolls as their combined weight shifts from side to side, and Crowley can feel the drying blood from his head wound touching his cheek. The cold damp makes him want to gag, but he focuses instead on mounting the next step, and then another. His thighs are burning and trembling. Two more steps, and Crowley decides to stop counting.

But finally, there aren’t any more steps. Crowley stares at the floor, then stiffly lifts his head to find the nearest room. He shuffles over to it and pushes the door open with his head. It’s blessedly unlocked and empty, so he painfully makes his way to the bed and unlocks his hands to let Aziraphale down. Aziraphale seems to take this as a cue to release his own hands, and it’s only Crowley’s quick thinking that prevents him from cracking his head on the wall.

With aching, trembling arms, he maneuvers the rest of Aziraphale onto the bed, then stares dumbly at him. What does he do now? Should Aziraphale lay on his side? His back? Does Crowley attempt to finish healing his skull, or discover what kind of damage the blast had done to Aziraphale’s chest? Should Crowley try and heal him at all? Someone would notice that large of a demonic miracle unless he wards the room. Crowley is drowning in choices, and he doesn’t know which are the right ones. He can feel himself panicking again, Aziraphale’s bloodied face serving as a catalyst to make his breath go high and tight -

Crowley sucks in a deep breath and lets it out slow, forcing himself to calm. He just needs to make a new list. First on it is to figure out why Aziraphale isn’t waking up. With a gentle hand on Aziraphale’s ankle, he sends a surface ping through Aziraphale’s corporation. Two broken ribs, some internal bruising, and some minor brain contusions. That’s not terrible. Aziraphale’s a sturdy angel, he’ll be fine in no time. Once he has a little more juice, Crowley’s fairly certain Aziraphale will heal on his own as long as he’s out of harm's way.

Second on the list… What’s second on the list? Leave and try to draw away demons that are topside? Ward up the room and hide? A wave of fatigue crashes over him and forces his decision for him. No, he’ll stay here. At least until Aziraphale wakes up.

Wait. That’s a terrible idea. What would Crowley even say to Aziraphale? Sorry about asking you to get me Holy Water a few decades back, and sorry for ignoring all your telegrams and calling cards. Also, don’t mind me at your bedside, I just happened to be in the area when you got yourself blown to bits, so I figured I’d do you a favor.

Crowley doesn’t think so. Maybe he should leave now. No awkward apologies, and no uncomfortable silences. Crowley attempts to stand, then wobbles comically. Right, never mind. Apparently, he’s going to be spending the night after all. That’s fine. He’ll take a little nap, and leave in the morning before Aziraphale wakes up. It won’t be a problem.

Crowley crawls up onto the bed and lays his head down, sparing only a brief glance at Aziraphale’s face. He looks slightly better now, or maybe that’s just Crowley’s imagination. Crowley will only be asleep for a few minutes, and there’s no way Aziraphale will wake up before him…

The next morning, Aziraphale wakes up to a warm spot beside him on the bed and the faint scent of… something familiar. His head is too cloudy to pinpoint exactly what it is at the moment, but the scent is calming nonetheless. But why had he woken in the first place? He doesn’t normally sleep, but he vaguely remembers the armory and trying to evacuate civilians from the area. Then, there was a loud noise and incredible pressure and then - nothing. He moves to check his corporation, but his head explodes with pain. The extreme agony forces him back onto the bed, panting, and it’s only after several moments that he can even think about moving again. When the agony subsides, he carefully touches his head and is met with crusty hair and a slowly healing skull fracture. He heals it with a blink, then finds himself dizzy with the expenditure of power.

What had happened last night to leave him so weak? Perhaps he’d been caught in a blast of some sort? And then a good samaritan had brought him back to this room to recover? How very kind of whomever it was.

The scent is stronger now, and Aziraphale finds himself distracted enough to close his eyes and try to identify it. It seems to be strongest on the pillow next to him, and he buries his nose there to try and puzzle out the notes. It seems to be a mix of sandalwood and … sulphur? What a curious scent for a human to wear. It almost reminds him of Crowley, but they haven’t spoken in decades. The sulphur scent was likely residue from whatever blast had knocked Aziraphale unconscious in the first place.

As Aziraphale lets himself sink further into the scented pillow (he does not snuggle into it), he lets himself dream. Dream of a version of this event where Crowley had rescued him and stayed through the night, waking him in the morning with a worried brow and a cup of tea. A version where Crowley hadn’t asked for the one thing that could destroy him two decades ago, and the two of them still met for dinner and drinks.

Aziraphale’s chest hurts. It’s probably from the broken ribs he hasn’t yet healed. Or perhaps the cruelty of reality that he’s living in. No tea, no dinners, and no Crowley. What a terrible mess. But it can’t last too much longer. Crowley will come around in another decade or two. Aziraphale just needs to be patient. And if, while patiently waiting, Aziraphale pretends that a certain demon had rescued him from an explosion, no one needs to be the wiser.

Hope you enjoyed! If you want to bookmark on Ao3, the link is here. Happy Whumptober!

[crantzypants]

The Thing About the 1992 Good Omens Script...

…is that I totally understand HOW this version came to fruition. Adaptations are HARD; the movie version of Series of Unfortunate Events is probably the best to compare this to. In that, they combined the first three books into one whole movie. With that, you are cutting out characters, themes, settings, and plot enforce the author’s original intent. There are a lot of missing nuances that audiences WILL catch. But in adapting books to movies, sacrifices have to be made, especially when it is a book with a wider cast/plot. That’s why the Netflix adaptation felt so amazing! They had the Time and Budget to craft this detailed, accurate portrayal of the book series. And that is what Good Omens was able to receive in its miniseries.

Under the cut I go into more detail about how I think the movie version came about, btw.

Like, ok, the set of criteria listed is A) It’s Good Omens and B) It cannot be like the book. 

So what do you do? First would be to look at the whole book, and see what plot/characters can be put to the side. Obviously, even with the book still being newly released, Crowley and Aziraphale are two major selling points. Adam clearly has to be in it, because the story revolves around his nature vs nurture (Son of Devil vs Growing up as a normal human).

So what can leave to make a 2 or so hour movie in 1992? Well, you don’t need the Witch Finder Army, because Newt and Shadwell do not directly play with Adam’s story. The Horsepeople aren’t needed either, because their journey is to just get to Adam; you might as well combine their goal of “Make Adam do the End of the World” into Satan. Anathema is an interesting choice, but her character plays into the more magical aspects of the world, and she can replace the Them basically. 

Without the Witchfinder army, and trying to make a simpler plot, you also can’t go into Agnes Nutter and Anathema’s lineage. It would take too much time, so simplify it to Anathema being psychic. 

And of course, you cannot have the Heaven and Hell aspects that the book goes into more detail with. A sideplot about how both are rearing up for war, how Aziraphale and Crowley are torn between their jobs and their lives on Earth, would take too long. 

Storywise, this is the streamline you are left with at the moment

We have Aziraphale and Crowley

The Apocalypse is coming, and Crowley gets the baby

SOMEHOW, Adam ends up with human parents

There is an 11 year jump, and Aziraphale and Crowley have to look for the Real Antichrist

We meet Adam, without the Them. Who is he in this situation? Who are his parents?

Anathema comes to find and stop the Antichrist

Aziraphale and Crowley have to find Adam

Adam has to struggle, but overcome the temptation of his powers

The Apocalypse is averted

That is the working skeleton that you are left with. Does leave a lot of holes and questions of where to go next, doesn’t it? So, how to fill those holes into a coherent script for American Audiences in 1992? You have to quickly establish our main supernatural beings, and move into the meat of what the script is going to be. You can’t have Aziraphale and Crowley taking care of the wrong boy for 11 years, because then you have to explain a detailed baby swap. Easier for Crowley to loose the baby, simplify your three cups into one poorly decided handbag. Crowley also then has more screentime in the beginning. Without Aziraphale really chatting to Heaven, and Crowley being tied into Adam’s story by loosing him, it means Crowley is more akin to a “main character” for the audience.

In trying to keep other characters from the book in the screenplay, you make it so that Madame Tracy is the one to take Adam. Now, you also have to change her profession a bit. She needs to live in Tadfield and raise Adam, but you also need to find a way to bring characters together, mainly Anathema. If Anathema has a reason to be around Adam so much, then the two can become friends (and Anathema’s betrayal of attempted stabbery can have more impact), so make Madame Tracy run a B&B. Nature vs Nurture is the theme in the film (to me at least), so challenging Adam by having him interact with Satan is where his character growth is going to come from. 

That’s sort of what I have gathered from reading the script, at least. I think the character I am most curious about IS Crowley, though. I don’t even have a guess on how his character was translated from a Demon that is sly and cunning, working “smarter, not harder” by doing stunts like gluing coins to the ground or bringing down cellphone towers to inspire anger, and who really does love humanity and Aziraphale, to a character that seems rather based in disgust and hatred for everything around him. Like, I can’t tell if it was Neilman, higher ups at the company, the fact it was going to be for American audiences, the fact that is was in 1992, the idea that they wanted Johnny Depp, or some combination of these factors. That’s the one thing that I am still trying to puzzle out in this adaptation.

[my-mixed-fandoms]

Two Demons

If you have any more Good Omens request please send them in!!

———————————————————————————–

The Fall

The Fall was violent. Crowley liked to joke that he ‘sauntered vaguely downward’ but he was tossed from heaven straight into the burning sulfur pits just like everyone else. The fire burned your feathers black and the wind tore at your skin, leaving scars that even miracles couldn’t heal. But you weren’t the worst off, some of the others had permanent boils on their skin, or missing limbs, even worse most of the ones who fell had their wings completely burned off.

“R-Raphael! Raphael! Where are you?!”

Bright red hair slowly came into view, “Here! Y/N, ‘m here!”

You quickly drag yourself closer to the other Archangel, “You’re alright, I couldn’t find you at first – I thought …”

Raphael flicked his, now golden-silted, eyes up at you. “I’ll be okay, Y/N, just a bit of a sulfur bath, nothing you didn’t go through too. And I don’t – I don’t think I want to go by Raphael anymore, now that we’ve been kicked out.”

“Okay, that’s fine. Whenever you decide on a name, just let me know. For now, I’ve been told to ‘go up and make some trouble’ care to join me?”

“Anything to get out of here”

--

The Garden

Crawly, as Raphael now wanted to be called, could turn into a snake. A very convenient corporation to sneak around Eden with. You can turn into a sleek black cat, which is lovely for climbing trees and stalking the smaller animals the She made.

“Well, that went down like a lead balloon”

You take shape on the other side of the angel, “Quite, I really wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction, but then with the Almighty’s reaction to a couple questions I really shouldn’t be surprised”

Crawly looks over at the empty-handed angel, “Didn’t you have a flaming sword?”

“What?”

“You did! It was flaming like anything! What happened to it?”

The angel glances over to you, but you just raise on eyebrow in question, “I gave it away!” Crawly gives an incredulous look, “I gave it away! It’s dangerous out there, and she’s already expecting!”

Crawly and the strange angel continue talking and you watch as the humans fight off a lion. When you Fell, you and Crawly had vowed to stay together, and now you had a feeling that this angel would be regular presence in your life.

--

1347 - Italy

“Aziraphale, how lovely to see you again” You quickly glide by the angel, black robe fluttering.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Aziraphale quickly trotted behind you, trying to keep his tights and tunic clean on the filthy streets. “Is this whole Plague nonsense your lots doing? And where’s Crowley? The two of you are usually inseparable”

“Crowley is probably doing the same thing I am trying to do, Aziraphale, which would be stopping people from dying as Heaven deemed it necessary”

“I’m sure I would have been told if Heaven was responsible for this! And besides, how are you explaining to Hell that you’re saving humans?”

You step into one of the many houses with a string of posy on the door, “Well, we tell them that we’re working against that Ineffable Plan, saving humans so we have more time to tempt them into giving up their souls to Hell. It’s quite simple really”

Aziraphale watches as you quietly heal the boils on two of the children’s faces, as you turn rotted skin whole again, and as you quietly purify the air, getting rid of all trace of disease.

The two of you step back out to the street, “You really do heal them”

“Of course I do, and the ones that are too far gone to save I ensure have a peaceful passing. Crowley and I … we try to make this time as easy as possible for the ones we can save.”

“But why? You are a demon! Healing … that seems more like my sides job”

If Aziraphale’s asking this, then he doesn’t know who Crowley was before his fall, and he hasn’t connected your name. “Human’s don’t deserve everything they’ve been handed, their lives are so short and neither of us like to see people suffer, especially children.”

--

1862 – London

Aziraphale stares down at the note that Crowley handed him, “Holy water!? I’m not – I’m not going to give you a suicide pill!”

“Neither of us want to find out what happens if Hell finds out about you, Aziraphale”

The angel glares at the two demons, “Well, Heaven wouldn’t be too happy if I was caught fraternizing with some of your lot”

“Fraternizing!”

“Well, whatever you want to call it!”

Crowley’s face twisted up in a sneer, “I have plenty of people to fraternize with, angel!”

You reach out and gently place a hand on Crowley’s shoulder, “We’ll think of something else, Crowley. If they find us out … we’ll have to deal with it”

Aziraphale throws the paper in the river, and storms off, while you and Crowley turn towards the other direction.

--

1967 – SoHo London

Aziraphale doesn’t say anything when he first approaches you, just stands back and watches Crowley with his group of thieves. You … have not been very kind to the angel since his comment about fraternizing in 1862.

“I don’t believe I ever apologized for what I said to you, about fraternizing. I didn’t truly mean it. The thought of you or Crowley going to that sort of extreme … is quite terrifying to me, in all honesty.”

You let out a sigh, “I know, I was angry because I consider you a very dear friend and you hurt both myself and Crowley with your comment. You realize that the holy water would be a last resort, don’t you? We didn’t make the request lightly, nor would we take our own demise lightly”

The angel let out a heavy breath, “I know, that’s why I’m giving you this”

Aziraphale hands you a tartan flask that you assume is filled with holy water, “I’m really not sure if I should thank you for this, angel, but I will anyway. So, thank you”

It’s about that time Crowley finishes talking to the humans and decides to join you and Aziraphale, “Well hello, angel. Wasn’t expecting to see you here”

“Just dropping a little something off”

Crowley smirks and raises an eyebrow, but you subtly shake your head, “Well, at least let me offer you a ride. Anywhere you want to go”

The angel lets out a soft sigh, “You go too fast for me, Crowley”

--

11 years before the End of the World

“The bloody Antichrist! Why would we be chosen to deliver the bloody Antichrist?! You know I’m quite fond of Earth, I’d rather not be the catalyst that helps start the apocalypse!”

Crowley groaned softly, “I know! But we’re ‘well liked’ down there. Apparently, Lucifer still thinks we’re good enough to trust with his son”

You peek into the basket containing the Antichrist, “We need to tell Aziraphale, we need to figure something out”

“We will, Y/N, but we have to deliver the baby. We don’t have much of a choice in that”

“Unfortunately not. Drive on, then. We have a nunnery to get to”

———————————————————————————–

Let me know what you think! Send any ideas or requests you have to my Ask Box!

[inkwell1013]

Good Omens - In Just Twelve Days - Chapter 1

Next Chapter

Pairing: Aziraphale/Crowley

Genre: Fluff, Christmas, Human!AU, lil bit of angst (for flavour)

Chapter word count: 896

Warnings: Abusive family dynamics (background/implied), divorce (also background)

Summary: Crowley is a reporter in London, who is sent to the small village of Tadfield, to report on the villages famous Christmas festival. There he meets the towns innkeeper and bookshop owner, Aziraphale, who is a single father to eleven year old Adam. Crowley has never liked Christmas, because of some negative experiences in his childhood and Aziraphale is determined to change Crowley’s views on the holiday. 

Notes: Am I writing a Hallmark Christmas movie? Yes. Can anyone stop me? No.

I’m planning on posting a new chapter every day until Christmas but schools been crazy so no promises.

- - - - - 

Christmas sucked. It was one of the few constant truths in Crowley’s life. The sun shone, his parents were the worst and Christmas fucking sucked.

The entire season had been unkind to Crowley. He had suffered through it twenty four times in his lifetime and it had never once been good. One of his earliest memories was his dad walking out on them on Boxing day. And it had all went downhill from there. Every holiday season after that had been tenuous and stressful, especially with his parents ensuing divorce.

Then he came out at seventeen and was promptly thrown out of the house. On Christmas too. In the seven years since, he had not bothered to celebrate it. The whole experience had left a bad taste in his mouth and he didn’t see the point. It was a stupid holiday anyway.

He took a swig of his coffee, and sat at his desk. Turning on his computer, he vaguely noticed that it was December 13th and frowned. It was close enough to Christmas that the mildly irritating behaviour of his co-workers, such as humming Christmas songs when they should be working, would be amplified into invites to office Christmas parties, ugly Christmas jumpers and tinsel everywhere.

How irritating.

“Happy Holidays Anthony!” Lee said cheerfully, setting some papers on Crowley’s desk. “Can you check these over for me? Miss Beatriz is on a warpath today and I don’t want to submit anything with mistakes in it.”

“Sure. Know why she’s in a bad mood?” He took the first sheet of paper and started correcting Lee’s admittingly interesting piece on the city’s new youth program. Lee’s writing was mostly good, but he wasn’t the best at grammar.

“I don’t know,” Lee shrugged. “Just stay out of her way and you’ll be fine.” Crowley handed Lee his papers and got back to work. Not even three minutes later, he felt the domineering presence of his boss standing right behind him. He turned around and a tight smile spread across Beatriz’s face.

“Anthony, can you step into my office for a minute?” she said, beckoning her to follow him. So much for staying out her way.

He followed her into her office and shut the door behind them. “I assume you’re busy,” she said. “So I’ll be quick. I need someone to travel to the village of Tadfield to cover their Christmas celebrations. Damien was going to go but his baby was born premature so he’s taking time off. You’ll be there for twelve days. Can you do it?”

“With all due respect, I hardly think I’m the best person for this story. I’m not exactly a big fan of Christmas.”

“Anthony, not to be rude, but I don’t care. Someone has to take this assignment and you’re my next best reporter after Damien.”

Crowley sighed. “I don’t have a choice here, do I?”

“You don’t.”

He frowned a little. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

It was last minute for sure, but at least the pay was good.

Crowley caught the train to Tadfield the next morning. Beatriz had arranged for someone named Aziraphale Eden to pick him up from the station. According to Beatriz, Aziraphale owned the only inn in town, as well as the local bookshop, and Crowley would be staying there until Boxing day.

Crowley fetched his bag from the overhead locker and got off the train. The station was small, which Crowley had expected. This was a small village after all, it wouldn’t have made sense for the station to be as big as the ones in the city. It was very quiet there, with just a handful of people wandering around.

One of these was a man standing not so far away, who was holding a sign with Crowley’s name on it. “Hey, you’re Aziraphale, right?” Crowley said, approaching the man.

The man smiled and lowered his sign. “That’s me. I’m guessing that you’re Anthony then.”

“Yep.”

“The inn isn’t very far from here. I hope you’re okay with walking.” Crowley shrugged. He had no problem with walking. If anything, he was looking forward to seeing what this village looked like.

The pair left the station and stepped into the town square. It was colder outside than Crowley had expected, and he could see his breath turning to mist in the cool air. There was a large Christmas tree set up right in front of them.

“I see the town’s ready for Christmas,” he remarked, shoving his hands into his coat pockets, as they kept walking

“Yes. Isn’t it exciting!” Aziraphale beamed. “I adore Christmas. It’s my favourite holiday.”

“Why?” asked Crowley. “There’s nothing great about it.”

“Nothing great about Christmas?” exclaimed Aziraphale. “There’s giving gifts, eating good food, snowball fights, carolling, being with your family and much more. The season’s full of good. That’s why I love it so much.”

Crowley winced at the mention of family. His family had ruined almost every Christmas he had had as a child. “I’ve never been a fan,” he admitted. “Had some bad experiences and they sort of… put a damper on the festivities for me.”

Aziraphale gave him a determined look. “How long are you in Tadfield?” he asked.

“Twelve days. I’m leaving on Boxing day morning.”

Aziraphale for a moment in thought. “Twelve days…” he said. “I reckon I can make you love Christmas in twelve days.”

Next

[caffeinechic]

Good Omens Fic Recs 1/?

I went to fix a link in this post and managed to delete the entire thing like an absolute fool. 

But my complete annoyance with myself won’t be bested with my determination to post this lot. So here I go again. I am so sorry if this has shown on your dash a million times. And sorry for the double links / tagging as I honestly went half mad over even the basics. This is where I am with life.

I have about 300 Good Omens fics bookmarked at this point to trying to pull out my absolute favourites sent me down a re-read (and in many cases a re-re-re-re-read) rabbit hole, which was an absolute joy so no complaints here!

These are just some of the ones that have just really stuck with me for one reason or another so I’ve gathered them up under the cut

4 Authors I just need to do like a HUGE rec for as they’re life ruiners. How dare they be this good. HOW DARE THEY.

@princip1914 @princip1914

Yeah I started pulling out the bookmarks I had for @princip1914 and realised it was...everything they’d written. All of it. Just...all of it.

But my particular favourite out of an outstanding batch is the following - which I have read approximately 70 squillion times. It stuck with me for so long in a way that I don’t think many fics have, ever. I actually can’t recommend this enough:

Doubt Thou The Stars Are Fire

“But how,” Aziraphale gasped, agonized and close to tears. “How can you be sure. Crowley, dear, you got thrown out of heaven for questioning everything. How can you be sure about this?”

Crowley loves and Aziraphale doubts. God intercedes. A groundhog day kind of situation ensues wherein Aziraphale has to fall in love with Crowley over and over again as a human until he gets the point. Highlights include: delivering medical care in rural Louisiana, stargazing in Vegas, strangers on a train, and teaching middle school.

@bestoftheseekwill @bestoftheseekwill

Same “problem” with @bestoftheseekwill - READ EVERYTHING. Oh my god, the human AUs, THE HUMAN AUS.

Special shout out to Acts of Service which was the first Human AU I’d read and got me completely hooked and now whenever seekwill posts I immediately read.

Acts of Service

"You seem very familiar to me. I can’t say why that is." As Aziraphale spoke, Crowley turned away from the fire, and Aziraphale was momentarily concerned that the spell had been broken, that he had crossed some invisible line. But Crowley smiled and brought his beer to his lips.

"Maybe we met in a past life. Does your lot believe in that?"

"Past lives?"

"Yeah."

Aziraphale smiled into his wine. He was sure Crowley was poking fun, ever so slightly, but he liked it. "Not strictly speaking. No."

Crowley shrugged, taking another long sip of his beer. “A mystery then."

After receiving direct instruction from God, village reverend Aziraphale leaves his countryside congregation to serve the underserved and in-need at an urban church in London, a transition made all the more complicated by the mysterious and handsome Crowley, who always seems to appear when Aziraphale least expects him.

OH!! but also

That this could be the kingdom

- this one sat with me for a while. Stunning

I have lived my whole life with a wrecked heart. Fr. Aziraphale Fell’s present mirrors his past, as long ago roommate, classmate, and former friend Anthony Crowley reappears in his life in an unexpected and disarming way, challenging Aziraphale’s choices, and bringing him back to the breaking point, when he made a decision he couldn’t take back. It isn’t temptation, it’s revelation.

@mygalfriday @mygalfriday

Ah here, listen - I went to get my bookmark list for @mygalfriday and just ended up re-reading all 12 fics this week.

i can't say the words, so i wrote you into my verse

Aziraphale blinks as it slowly dawns on him exactly what he’s looking at. Crowley has a tattoo. Well, another one anyway. Unlike the small serpent curled just beneath his temple, this one takes up far more space.

And listen if you don’t read the blind date au series then I don’t know how to help you!

I couldn’t find Rend_Herring  Found @rendherring @rendherring on Tumblr but I had to put my phone and my head down after I read both of these.

The Lightness of You

God should not have built them with such discrepancy, made them need for love, and long for wholeness, then left them to their own devices.

This Soul Outstreaming

“Why did you come here?” Aziraphale interrupts. “Why do you keep doing this?” All the saving, he means, all the chasing after Aziraphale he does. It can’t only be that he’s not keen to endure a replacement. That can’t be it, not anymore. He’s going to get himself in trouble, and then it’ll be Aziraphale’s fault.

Crowley’s mouth shuts with a click. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, reaches for the handle of the fork and taps his fingertips against it before setting his hands in his lap.

When he speaks, it’s very soft. “Don’t you know?” he asks.

Aziraphale, unaccustomed to his heart refusing to translate why it throbs with such haste, shakes his head.

Fics that, to me, are just stunners. I love them so much.

Slow Show - @mia-ugly @mia-ugly Honestly if you’re seeing a rec list WITHOUT slow show...I’d be legit surprised In which temptations are accomplished, grand romantic gestures are made, and two ineffable co-stars only take four seasons of an award-winning television program to realize they’re on their own side (at last, at last.)

Barriers, and the breaking thereof - @cardinaldaughter @cardinaldaughter Ezra Fell has long been comfortable in his loneliness. He’s content to simply run the Soho Public Library and otherwise keep to himself. However, when a handsome stranger bursts in one evening with a baby, frantic and in need of help, Ezra finds those carefully constructed barriers he’s long maintained begin to crack.

Perhaps it’s time to let them fall.

Anthophilia - @fortinbrasftw @fortinbrasftw Anthony J. Crowley's life seems like it's finally falling into place: his floral shop has begun to gain an undercurrent of appreciation in the design elite of London, and he might have even finally found a boyfriend who looks just right lounging on his Tenreiro sofa. Things seem almost perfect, until one day the empty shop across the street is leased to frumpy fellow Oxford alumni, who doesn't seem to remember Crowley nearly as well as he remembers him, which really shouldn't bother him as much as it does - it was ten years ago after all, and it wasn't even that good of a kiss.

The road to rapture has a lot of pit stops - @emmagrant01 @emmagrant01 Five times they kissed over four thousand years, and one time they actually meant it.

Demon and Angel Professors - Ghostinthehouse - not 100% sure that this is also their tumblr handle so if anyone can confirm that would be great! They're professors. They're married. Their students don't realise. Cue shenanigans.

Multiple short arcs with one-shots (and often pauses) between them. Characters continue from one arc to the next. It's marked as complete, because each short arc is complete in itself, but there will be more arcs and one-shots in the future.

The Grinch Who Sold Christmas - @forineffablereasons @forineffablereasons Anthony J. Crowley, a big-time attorney from London, is sent to small-town Tadfield to close a deal before Christmas that would sell out half of high street to a fancy developer and put him up for partner at his firm. The deal will run the local businesses out and change the landscape of the town forever, but that’s none of Crowley’s business; he’s just doing a job.

But as the town invites him to share in their lives and their hopes and their holiday celebrations, and as the enigmatic Aziraphale invites him to share in something more, Crowley starts to wonder: if everything has its price, is he still willing to pay what this deal will cost?

Slow - write_away It started like this: A boy with the ability to warp reality met an angel and a demon and he made assumptions.

You might say it started like this: An angel and a demon found a marriage contract hung on the wall of the angel's bookshop. They didn't question it.

It also could have started like this: Once upon a time, the angel told the demon he went too fast. The demon took it to heart.

Aziraphale and Crowley find themselves somehow married. Crowley fears going too fast. Aziraphale forges ahead. Neither know how to ask questions of each other.

You, soft and only - @thehoyden He hadn’t expected a sudden lapful of angel.

“Very sorry about this,” Aziraphale said, and kissed him.

A Bushel and a Peck- @thehoyden  Sometimes, a family is a demonic nanny, an angelic cook, and a kid who isn't actually the Antichrist.Or: Crowley helps Aziraphale secure a different position at the Dowling Estate.

Long is the way, and hard - Kate_Lear The first time Crawley meets the angel, the celestial being is twisting its shining white robe in its fingers and looking wretched. It hardly spares him a glance as he shifts from snake to human, and Crawley is a touch put-out. It’s taken some practice to be able to do it so fluidly.

A story of Crowley's thoughts about Aziraphale, from the Beginning to the present day.

And also of temptation, and want, and whether - for a Fallen Angel - redemption is possible after all.

the 21st century, in which they finally work it out - @fieldbears @fieldbears This is light speed in comparison to the last few centuries of their relationship, but Crowley is barely holding on to his patience.

A Few More Rescues - @poetic----nonsense @poetic----nonsense 5+1 Times Crowley Rescued Aziraphale According to the Romantic Tropes of the Era, and One Time Aziraphale Turned It Around on Him (plus Prologue)

The Cottage, the Husbands (series) - Dragonsquill A demon and an angel fall in love and decide to take on the monumental task of living together in a cottage by the sea.

[ineffablemiracles]

In which the angel Crowley gives the demon Aziraphale a predatory plant as a joke, and immediately regrets everything:

Soho, 1968

It was meant to be a joke. The angel known on earth for a large number of years now as Anthony J. Crowley--and A.J. Crowley Jr., etc, etc as the years passed--was very, very fond of plants. And the demon Aziraphale, as far as Crowley had been able to determine, didn’t really think much of them one way or the other. So when Crowley came across the small venus fly trap at the greenhouse, he couldn’t resist. Maybe a plant that caught its own food would at least amuse Aziraphale, who’d been inexplicably grumpy the last couple of centuries. Someday I’m going to learn not to listen to my impulses. “It, uh… you just water it.” Crowley said to the demon, who was holding the little potted plant as though it might explode. Or worse, get dirt all over his neat suit. Now that the angel was here in the demon’s shop (Mr. Fell’s Curious and Carnal Antiquities), it didn’t seem like all that good of an idea after all, but it was rather too late to take the thing back. “It’ll feed itself. It eats flies.” “Ooooooooh.” A complete change came over Aziraphale, his expression brightening as he poked curiously at the nearest bud, watching as it closed in response to what it hoped was prey. “You mean, it’s carnivorous?!” Crowley began to doubt every choice he’d ever made. “Well, yeah. I guess. Technically.” Rubbing the back of his neck, Crowley debated his chances of grabbing the thing and making a run for the door. Not good, since Aziraphale was now practically cooing to the tiny plant, holding its pot close without even worrying about his clothes for once. “It’s not like it could eat anything much bigger than a fly, after all.” These things didn’t grow much, did they? Crowley didn’t think so. It should have been a comfort, but he knew as well as any celestial being that when something got exposed to Divine or Infernal energies for extended periods of time, ‘normal’ tended to go out the window. Especially energies with intent--like the devious gleam he saw in Aziraphale’s eyes now.

“Well. We all have to start somewhere, now don’t we?” Aziraphale said, cheerfully, talking to the plant as though Crowley had already left. He looked around, finally deciding to put the little pot on his huge, ancient desk. “And flies. Hmm. You know, I think I’ll call you Bub. Lord Beelzebub can’t be too displeased with my naming you after them, with you being such an adorable little hunter. Even if you do help get rid of all the little pests they leave behind every time they visit.”

“...” None of this was going as planned. Crowley had expected Aziraphale to give the plant back to him. Possibly by throwing it at his head, considering the demon’s recent moods. Certainly the most positive outcome he’d imagined was Aziraphale being faintly interested or amused before telling the angel to take the thing away. This strange, almost paternal response was, quite frankly, terrifying. 

“I shall have to go out and find a book on proper care tomorrow,” Aziraphale was still fussing over the plant, oblivious to anything else. Crowley cleared his throat, and the demon looked up. “Ah, oh yes. Crowley. Thank you for the unexpected gift, my dear Angel. I’ll take such good care of it.”

That’s what I’m afraid of. Crowley managed a thin smile, and shook his head mutely when Aziraphale asked him if he’d dropped by for anything else. He needed to get away from… whatever this was. Seeing Aziraphale acting like someone with a new baby over a plant was definitely one of the oddest things he’d ever seen the demon do. Crowley fled. Climbing up the outside steps from Aziraphale’s dark basement shop, Crowley couldn’t shake the feeling that the joke was on him.

Soho, Present Day

The plant had disappeared from Aziraphale’s desk a few months after Crowley had brought it to him, and a while after that, the angel had honestly forgotten about it. Life resumed as normal, the two coming into contact regularly, either for company or to discuss something that fell under the Arrangement. Tonight was one of the former, Crowley happily sprawled on a chair in the demon’s shop and sipping wine. He could feel that Aziraphale had something he wanted to spring on him, but he was too pleasantly drunk to be apprehensive.

The shoe dropped sometime around their third glass of wine, and it took Crowley’s stomach with it.

“Crowley, my dear, all of these years and you’ve never once asked how Bub is doing. Why is that, I wonder?”.

“When I didn’t see it on your desk anymore I figured--” Hoped. “--that you’d gotten tired of it and gotten rid of it. Or that it died or something.” “Oh, my, no. He just needed a bit more space. Would you like to come see him?”

“Him?”

“Well, it turns out that Dionaea muscipula aren’t gender specific plants, so I just picked at random. Besides, he seems like a he.” Aziraphale’s pale blue eyes sparkled wickedly.

“Right. Of course he does.” Crowley’s legs felt like they were made of lead, and it was all he could do to get up and follow his longtime friend. Over the years his nightmares had been periodically visited by various imaginings of a predatory plant under extended demonic influences. Reality, for once, didn’t disappoint. Of course not. Not when I want it to.

Bub, or ‘the thing’ as it would forever after be known as in Crowley’s head, had his own room. He had to. The plant barely fit as it was, brushing the ceiling as though looking for more space to expand. It had at least three times as many mouths as when Crowley had last seen it, and each one was more than large enough to fit an entire person in. In fact, one of them was closed around a large lump that Crowley absolutely refused to look more closely at. He might actually see what was in it.

This is it. This is the thing that gets me kicked out of Heaven. If there’s anything left to kick after Gabriel gets done with me, anyway. ‘How did you Fall, Crowley?’ ‘Oh, I gave a demon a man-eating plant. You know. Just for a laugh.’ “Crowley?” Aziraphale’s voice cut into Crowley’s horrified internal monologue. The demon was standing right next to Bub, patting the outside of one of its mouths. The angel wasn’t sure if it was that or the fact that the plant actually lowered its head to be ‘petted’ that disturbed him more. “Aren’t you going to say hello?”

“Hello… Bub…” Crowley’s mouth was currently working without any help from his brain. So was his body, because when the entire assemblage of leaves, vines and gaping maws actually turned in his direction, the angel took an involuntary step backward. 

“Oh, don’t worry, Bub. Uncle Crowley’s just impressed with how much you’ve grown.” Aziraphale gave the plant another reassuring pat, then looked up and smiled. “Crowley. You’re not scared, are you?”

“Aziraphale…” Crowley cleared his throat, continued almost a full octave lower. Uncle Crowley? Really? “You can’t. That thing is…” 

“Oh, nonsense. Bub has never had a meal that wasn’t already firmly destined for Hell,” Aziraphale tsks. “In fact, he’s probably helped you out indirectly by getting rid of some of the worst--” “Nope.” Crowley shushed the demon with a gesture. Plausible deniability. That’s what I need. The less I hear, the less I have to pretend doesn’t exist. The only alternative was to destroy Bub, and probably a six thousand year old friendship with it. Call him selfish, but Crowley wasn’t ready to do that. “I don’t want to know. I was never in here. I never saw this. If you mention Bub again, I’m going to imagine you’re talking about a cute, fluffy little kitten.”

“Ah. Ah, right. Yes.” Aziraphale raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirked upwards. “I suppose I wasn’t thinking about that side of things. Very well. Back to the wine, then?” “Yes. Wine. Wine is good. Wine is nice.” As if there was enough wine in the world to make the angel forget he saw this. Crowley sighed. “Better open a few extra bottles.”

((Now also on AO3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/21076571 ))

[nicnacsnonsense]

A few days ago @whiteleyfoster did some lovely The Birdcage AU art and @poetic----nonsense decided we needed a full AU figured out, so they tagged me. Because I am now the person who figures out fusion AUs., Which honestly, that’s fantastic; I love it. Unfortunately I hadn’t seen The Birdcage before, but it’s available to watch on Prime, so I just took care of that. The bad news is I didn’t actually like the movie all that much. The good news is my problem was in the execution rather than the premise, so I do think there’s a good Good Omens AU to be had with two adjustments. One, lean into the wacky hijinks more -- this is definitely a wacky hijinks comedy kind of plot, but the tone of the movie was oddly serious a lot of the time. And two, I want to really feel the love between all the members of our little queer family. The movie tells us they’re a happy and healthy family, but what I was seeing was a lot of Val being mean to his parents, a lot of Armand being mean to and dismissive of Albert and a lot of Albert being overly dramatic and sensitive to everything.

Moving on to our characters. In Whiteley’s drawing they had Aziraphale as Albert and Crowley as Armand, which I get that, but I want to switch it. Aziraphale as the small business owner cismale who is obviously gay (I didn’t get any obviously gay vibes from Armand, but the movie told us a couple of times he was giving them off, so *shrugs*). Meanwhile Crowley is amab and typically presents male day-to-day, but also presents female at time and is slightly ambiguous in terms of gender. I also feel Crowley’s dramatic bitch energy is a better match for Albert’s than Aziraphale’s is. 

For Val and Barbara, Whiteley suggested Adam and Warlock respectively, and while I like each of those choices a lot individually, it doesn’t work for me once you put them together. Partially that’s a personal thing -- I know Adam/Warlock is somewhat popular but it squicks me out -- but also unless you want to genderbend one of them female, you have a gay relationship which kind of undermines the whole “gay couple has to pretend to be hetero to fool the super conservative in-laws.” I still think there’s a way you could do it, but it would take a lot of work. So instead I propose Newt as Val and Anathema as Barbara. (which weirdly makes the second time I’ve had Aziraphale as Newt’s dad. I swear I’m not trying to make it a thing).

I realize the immediate impulse there is if you’re going to use those two you should flip them: Newt as Barbara and Anathema as Val. But first of all I think if Anathema was Val she wouldn’t stand for lying about who her parents are; sucks for you Newt, but you’re just going to have to come clean. And if you put aside political views, these are actually really good matches for each of their families in canon. Anathema was a “professional descendant,” her entire life was mapped out for her by her many times great-grandmother, which is something of the ultimate extreme Barbara’s controlling family. Meanwhile’s Newt’s mother seemed very loving and she supported and encouraged his enthusiasm for computers no matter how many power outages he caused. Plus I do think there’s a great parallel in Crowley and Aziraphale having to hide their homosexuality from Anathema’s parents and the idea of Anathema being a liberal, occultist, environmentalist, feminist, general social activist, probably met Newt at an LGBT+ support rally, who goes home to her family and has to hide all of that and pretend to be a good little conservative Christian girl.

For the other major characters Anathema’s parents would be Anathema’s mom (obviously) and Gabriel I think. The idea of him as Anathema’s dad is a little weird, but you can’t deny Gabriel fits the super conservative senator mold really well. You could also use the Dowlings instead if you wanted, but c’mon, Gabriel fawning over femme!Crowley? That’s too funny, guys. For Newt’s biological mother I think Michael. She could definitely pull off high-powered exec who isn’t the least bit maternal, but is willing to show up for her son in this because of a sense of duty. In this version Aziraphale and Michael would have actually been dating because Aziraphale was still in the closet and in deep denial at that point, but they broke up when she got pregnant and Aziraphale wanted to keep the baby and Michael wanted to put it up for adoption the instant that baby slid out of her. (I also totally picture that after they agreed to break up Michael said it was probably for the best, seeing as Aziraphale was just super gay.) And finally for Agador I think Madame Tracy. Admittedly as a character she’s not much like him, but looking at it in terms of the function of the character as a comic relief zany housekeeper type, I think she could do a really good job as her own version of that.

A few other changes. The whole argument about “who’s the white whine for?” still happens, but it’s playful banter, rather than any sort of serious accusation of cheating. Then after the show Crowley and Aziraphale go upstairs together and surprise! Newt’s here for a visit. He tells both of his parents about his engagement at the same time. Then again when the issue of Anathema lying to her parents comes up, Newt approaches both Crowley and Aziraphale together and presents it not as something he’s demanding they do for him, but a problem to be solved together. Then Crowley and Aziraphale are totally extra enough to be like, zany hijinks, we’ll just fake like we’re the very straight cultural attache to Greece and his woman female wife. 

Except after a bit of prep work Crowley suddenly backs out as the wife, claiming he can pull of woman sure, but he can’t pull off housewife. That’s where Michael comes in. Crowley is the one who chooses not to go into her office -- he resents her for what he considers to be her abandonment of Newt -- but when he gets impatient waiting he coincidentally barges in at just the wrong moment to what looks like flirting/cheating (but we the audience know was actually something completely innocent) and storms off. 

Aziraphale goes to talk to Crowley once they both get home and his shocked and even a little hurt that Crowley would ever think Aziraphale would cheat on him. Crowley says, no he knows that’s not what was going on and he knows Aziraphale wouldn’t, especially not with a woman. So Aziraphale is like what’s up then, you’ve been acting weird ever since Newt got home. And Crowley admits that he is jealous, but not over any sort of fictitious other lover, but of Newt. Because Newt is getting married and Crowley and Aziraphale can’t (cause 90′s). And that’s why Crowley backed out of the wife role, because tt was too close to what he wants and can’t have. The two of them have a heart-to-heart about how much they love each other and how committed they are. This also means when Crowley does show up to the dinner dressed up as Newt’s mom, it’s a heart-warming moment where Crowley is silently communicating that Aziraphale is right, that it’s real in their hearts, and that’s what matters. 

[cherry-flavored-sigh]

i really wanna write or draw a short story about a little girl coming into aziraphale’s book shop because she thinks it has so many old books that it must have a book for summoning demons and azira FREAKS OUT when he hears that’s what she wants because oh my god why would a child need to summon a demon?! (fuck it i’m gonna write it right now lol)

he’s just like “my dear girl, why would you ever need to do something as awful as that?!” and crowley is in the back of the store, listening and chuckling to himself, and she explains that she needs a demon to help her fight some bullies at school, and azira’s face just... drops.  “m-my dear, there’s no need for such... drastic measures! you just need courage and confidence to overcome the bullies!” he says, trying to force a smile. “why, they might even become your friends!” the girl shakes her head angrily, “that’s what all the other adults said to. but it doesn’t work! they just bully me more! so i’m just gonna kick their butts with a demon!” ”please, do reconsider-” “i’ll go find a spellbook somewhere else!” she shouts, knocking over a pile of his books (to which he audibly gasps in shock) on her way out and slamming the front door behind her.  aziraphale sighs, picking up the books (”you didn’t deserve that” he tells them soothingly), and crowley pops around the corner. “demon summoning isn’t a joke,” he drawls. “i know that, you don’t think i don’t know that?” aziraphale cries. “what happens if she accidentally summons a real demon?” crowley lowers his sunglasses, staring hard at the angel. “or makes a mistake and summons something worse?” he offers warily. “most of the time, when kids try to do this, nothing happens, but there have been plenty of incidents where... less-scrupulous demons take advantage of hell’s numerous summoning loopholes and just sort of... pop out.” aziraphale pales noticeably. “we have to make sure she doesn’t go looking for more spellbooks! or... heavens, what if she looks ON THE INTERNET?” his lower lip trembles as if he might burst into tears. crowley sighs the sigh of someone who has been putting up with a huge worrywart for over 6,000 years. “don’t worry, angel. i’ve got this.” he snaps, disappearing in a puff of cloudy smoke.  “crowley, wait!” aziraphale bites his lip, frowning. he has no idea what the demon is planning but he hopes it doesn’t cause more trouble. ------ the girl continues to stomp along the sidewalk, crying angry tears. she gets nasty glares when she bumps into other people on the sidewalk, but she doesn’t look up at them.  suddenly she steps on a crumpled piece of paper. she growls, pulling it from her shoe and ready to chuck it back onto the ground when she notices a scribbled red pentagram and some strange symbols on the paper. unfolding it, she leaves the sidewalk and leans against a building.  “how to summon a bully-fighting demon” is written in crude handwriting. the paper smells like cinders and ash and is fairly warm. her heart races a bit, wondering where it came from, but she grins to herself, folding up the paper and putting it in her pocket. ------ it’s past midnight, and she can barely keep her eyes open, but she has to follow the instructions to the letter, she tells herself. she luckily had found just enough birthday candles (and one of her mom’s scented candles - she’d have to be careful returning that to the living room) for the spell. using masking tape she made a crooked circle on her bedroom floor, lining up the candles around the circumference and drawing on the tape with a permanent marker.  she looks around at her handiwork. this has to work. it has to.  one by one, she lights up the candles and the room is set aglow with a dim light (and the scent of sugar cookies). she stands outside of the circle, closes her eyes, and starts murmuring, “bully-fighting demon, i summon thee. hear my call, hear my plea.” the room begins to shake. she nearly screams as a burst of bright light shoots up from the ground and flames engulf the entire circle. they’re hot and nearly blinding, but they don’t burn her. a serpentine-like figure emerges from the flames, first a dark shadow, then shapeshifts into a more human-like figure as the flames dim slightly. he looks a lot like a human in a black suit, but his eyes have an unearthly yellow glow and his skinny limbs look like they end in claws. he floats above the center of the circle and looks down at her. “you have sssssummoned the great demon crowley, hunter of bulliessss,” the tall, lanky figure declares, glaring at her with piercing snake eyes. “what purpose do you have for calling me?” she gulps, terrified, but balls her hands into fists, closing her eyes against the bright flames. “i need... i n-need you to fight some bullies for me! these two m-mean boys have been picking on me at school and won’t stop! none of the adults will believe me and all of my friends are too scared to help, either!” the tears are flowing again, but she opens her eyes and looks up at the demon. “please! make them stop! i want them to leave me alone!” crowley laughs and puts his hands on his hips. “and why should i do this for you, little girl? i’ve got lots of business to attend to. lots of bigger bullies to fight. what will you give me in return? after all, demons don’t do this stuff for free. you ever hear of a contract?” he raises an eyebrow.  she looks around her room frantically, then picks up a unicorn plushie. “w-will this do? it’s my favorite stuffed animal... his name is king grandhooves... i’ve had him since i was a baby, and he’s the noblest steed of them all...” she trails off. there’s no way this demon will care about her toy, even if it means the world to her, even if it’s been by her side for ages- “a noble steed, you say?” his eyebrows shoot up, his interest suddenly piqued. “let me see that.” she shakily hands it over to crowley, who turns it over in his hands, examining it. “yes, yessss, this will do nicely. it truly is a noble steed. it has seen many battles, and i shall use it to ride into my own battles. yes, a horse like this must belong to someone very brave indeed.” he snaps his fingers, and the unicorn disappears in a puff of smoke. “very well. hold out your pinkie.” the girl looks utterly confused. “wh... what?” crowley rolls his eyes impatiently. “we have to seal the contract, obviously! your noble horse for my bully hunting!” he says, extending a long thin pinky forward. “do we have a deal or not?” his snake eyes are still piercing, but there’s a glint of something else in his gaze. silence, save for the crackling of the demonic fire, fills the room. after a moment, the girl nods, linking her tiny pinky finger around his. she does not look away from the tall demon. crowley pulls back in a grandiose manner, throwing his arms in the air as a loud boom that sounds like thunder echoes in the room. “VERY WELL! the contract is sealed! those bullies will be destroyed - i mean, taken care of by tomorrow. now... go to bed!” he hisses, and his shadow along with all the flames and light from the circle seem to be sucked back down into the earth. the candles go out with a WHOOSH and the ends of the masking tape curl up, breaking the circle.  shaking like a leaf, she climbs into bed. she can’t believe it worked. there was a demon in her room. but somehow her parents are still asleep. she pulls the blanket over her head and shudders. she misses king grandhooves, but she has to believe in the contract. she has no other choice. ------ the next day, at the beginning of the girl’s homeroom, the teacher announces that two boys from the class have been pulled out of school, explaining that they had to transfer suddenly. sure enough, there are two empty seats adjacent to each other. the bullies. the girl’s eyes widen in shock. the other students murmur, wondering why both boys would be transferring at the same time, and the teacher hesitantly explains that they had suffered from some “heavy emotional trauma” and were being taken to schools closer to the city to receive necessary therapy. the class buzzes even more, wondering what happened to the boys, and later that day, while looking online in the computer lab, the girl sees a news story about two massive snake infestations found the night before. authorities were shocked since the two houses were nowhere near each other but the types of snakes infesting the house were the same, and in both cases, the infestation had started in their sons’ bedroom closets. out of curiosity, the girl checks her pocket. the folded up piece of paper is still in it, and it’s warm again. she unfolds it, but this time, the pentagram and weird symbols are gone. they’ve been replaced by more messy text: “THE CONTRACT HAS BEEN COMPLETED. HOWEVER, I MUST RETURN YOUR STEED, AS I AM UNABLE TO TAME IT. IT IS TOO STRONG FOR ME TO COMMAND AND WILL ONLY LISTEN TO SOMEONE WITH A BRAVE, CONFIDENT SOUL. DO NOT FALTER IN THIS AND HE WILL REMAIN LOYAL TO YOU FOR ALL TIME. AS ALTERNATE COMPENSATION, I HAVE TAKEN TWO (2) NINTENDO GAMECUBES FROM THE BULLIES’ HOUSES. NO FURTHER ACTION IS REQUIRED.” a smell of cinders reaches her nose, and the girl looks up suddenly. in the chair next to her is king grandhooves. she snatches him up and hugs him tightly. she looks around, wondering where he had appeared from or for any sign of the strange, lanky demon. she gulps loudly, hugging her plushie tighter.  “thank you, crowley,” she whispers to herself.  outside the building, in the shade of a tall tree, a demon smiles to himself.

[bottomaziraphale-ao3fanfic]

ABO Ineffable Wives Hades and Persephone AU

Aziraphale and Crowley already married ruling Hades together already so happy and so so in love. A group of underworld lords and some of the gods above being unhappy with this union so they plan against them and when Crowley leaves to check on the souls of the rotted they pounce. Pretending to want to visit their baby sister they go to hades and wait till Aziraphale drinks the memory loss potion they poured in her wine before knocking her unconscious and stealing her to the upper world. She never at the fruit of the underworld because Crowley always wanted her to have a choice in leaving if she ever wanted too. Cerberus senses what's wrong and tries to save his precious queen but he is no match for two minor gods and a major one. So he runs to his master in warning but he doesn’t make it half way before collapsing. By this time Crowley has long since felt something wrong. The minute she felt Aziraphale knocked unconscious through their soul bond she sped through hades to get back to her home only to find her servants scared and his guards murdered and her wife's wedding ring and crown on the floor.

Twenty years pass and both seemed to have withered away into almost nothing. Crowley became a ghost if who she used to be and ruled with an even tighter fist than before. Shes colder, meaner with a tongue meant for a verbal lashing at anyone who gets on her bad side. Aziraphale was a ghost with no memory of who she was. She didn’t remember the pleasures of life that once brought smiles and laughter to her face. She hollowed out with a constant ache to her soul that always seemed to remind that something important was missing. Shed ask her brother Michael and Sandolph but they would just give her empty smiles and assure it's because of her nerves for her upcoming wedding with gabriel which in every sense of the word felt so wrong to her. As if every cell in her body shook in rage and disgust at the thought of marrying him, not when her heart and soul screamed that she belonged to someone else. That she already had the most perfect alpha the heavens could ever make for her. But she did not understand this. So she lived her days as a ghost her powers never came to her and she was always so weak and frail that she was on constant supervision.

One day Sandolph and Michael are both called to mount Olympus. They both gave her strict instructions not to go anywhere or invite anyone in and that they would be back as soon as they can to get everything ready for her marriage the upcoming week. It was so clear to her they didn’t love her and trust her the way they should like in the books she read and it was so obvious to her that Gabriel didn’t like her, let alone love her. He always acted like a villain from her books instead of the dashing hero meant to save and love her. She was so tired of this. Twenty years of misery and felt like death the moment she woke up in her bed to cruel eyes looking at her smiles that denied the questions she asked.

Before she used to be so afraid of the consequences if she disobeyed but now she could feel herself on the brink of death, any day now she would wither away to nothingness and end up in hades. It may have been to late for her to change her fate from death, but it wasn't too late for her to live as much as she can before she died. She’d prefer to die than live in this empty existence anyway, especially if she was going to marry the cruelty that was Gabriel the Mighty. She would take death over him any day. So she made the decision to run away and the fates have given her the perfect moment to get away.

With her favorite book, she ran as fast and far as she could and reached a dark forest that immediately gave her entryway and stumbled upon a meadow with night colored soil, bluminest water, and star filled flowers. It was the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. So beautiful, so peaceful, so familiar. She felt safe here and happy that she gave the world a first genuine smile that hasn't been seen since she woke up.

Her smile slowly morphed to a frown as she gasped and dropped her book. Her head was swimming in pain and her vision swam. She stumbled to the closest tree and wondered if this was where she was gonna die. She took a ragged breath, and closed her eyes. Her heart was finally beating with life at the shelter she found in this dark forest, that she didn’t seem to mind the darkness clouding her vision. She was happy to find a place that brought such happiness to her, that she welcomed death with a smile for giving her this, this much before taking her away. So she closed her eyes and her body fell limp against the tree shading her from the sun.

Memories ran across her eyes like film and she dreamed of rose colored hair and wine stained lips that always stretched in a smile around her. She dreamed of their first meeting, their first kiss, the first time Crowley showed her the underworld and all the wondrous magic she held. She dreamed of meeting Anathema and Newt, she dreamed of giving Cerberus belly rubs, she dreamed of sneaking into the kitchens with Adam to eat sweet treats, she dreamed she dreamed she dreamed. Most importantly all about Crowley, her most important person, her other half, her heart and soul. Oh her poor crowley must be all alone and sad without her now, she must wake up right now to-

"Aziraphale! Aziraphale!" Her eyes slowly opened and she groaned. Her vision gave a blurry image of a man that slowly cleared away to reveal gabriel who held annoyance in his eyes and wore a displeased frown. Immediately her blood boiled at the sight of him.

"We've been looking all over for you! You were told not to leave! Made us all run around in worry when all you were doing was napping insufferable brat! Let's go you've caused enough trouble for one day."

There would've been tears at the words he struck against her except she wasn’t the person who blindly ran away to this safe haven withering away praying for death. She was who she always had been, Persephone- Goddess of Vegetation, Spring, and the Underworld. She was not one to be trifled with.

He went to grab her and she snarled "don’t you dare touch me!" He jumped and leaped back at the ferocity from her voice.

His eyes widen in confusion "what has gotten into you today??!! First you run off like a child and now you're talking back-

"Shut up" she regarded him coldly and stood up carefully still weak from her collapse.

She took a ragged breath "you've treated me like a cockroach to be crushed beneath your feet ever since I came to existence. Now you've stolen me from my home, my alpha. I've bitten my tongue too long for you lot since you were my family and I loved you all despite your treatment towards me. Not anymore. You hurt my alpha by hurting me and now you shall have to answer to her and I will not vouch for any of you a moment longer. I am going home.”

Gabriel stared at her in shock before laughing and her body shook in rage at the gesture.

"Oh sunshine you think we'll let you go back after all the effort it took to get you here? No ones going to let you leave and look at you! You're one breath away from withering into dust. You can’t do anything! You're weak and useless, you need us, you have no choice but to stay with us."

Vines quickly sprouted around gabriel and tightly wrapped around him to the point he couldn’t breathe. He choked from the one around his neck that made him face her in all her rage. For the first time ever in his immortal life, he felt afraid of Aziraphale, who tightened the vines around him and made him gasp in pain.

"You," she snarled "have no control over me. You never did and you never will. I never needed you nor will I ever. You forget what they named me. Persephone! The dread queen of the underworld." She took a step forward towards him, "Peresphone, to destroy," vines tightened and he gave a silent scream, “to murder."

She smiled coldly at him, "yes I am kind but I've been told I can be a bit of a bastard. Lucky for you I have no intentions of killing you. You are nothing to me and I couldn’t care less about your putrid existence. Let this be a warning to you Gabriel, you come after me or any of my family in the underworld and not only will you have to answer to me, you will have to answer to my Alpha who will rip you and everyone else limb from limb and cast you all down to tartarus.

"You. Would. Start. A war!" he gasped out.

"You started it the moment you took me." She replied coolly.

She snapped her fingers and a dog whistle appeared in her hand, she brought it to her lips and gave a long whistle. Seconds later the ground shook and out came the hound of Hades who growled with all heads snapping until they saw who summoned them. Immediately their tongues lolled forward and their tail wagged in excitement. They made to leapt at her until they saw the condition she was in and whimpered.

She gave them a large smile and rubbed all their heads. "Oh you good boys you've all grown! You've immediately came when mama called, such good babies! I promise you'll get a big treat when we see your other mom!" She cooed.

Cerberus kneeled down and let Aziraphale settle on him before standing on his legs. She glared at gabriel and let the vines release him, dropping him onto the floor while he gasped for breath. "Tell the others what happened and remember my words Gabriel. Come after any us, and we will destroy you."

Gabriel tried crawling towards her, but Cerberus growled and snapped his teeth in warning. She petted all his heads before whispering in his ear, "take me home" and they disappeared.

They sped through the underworld with the wind nipping at her skin, her eyes watered and the world blurred around her. She was so tired, especially from using her once forgotten powers, but she had to keep going just a little while longer. Cerberus sensing the state of her master, sped faster rushing through the guards guarding the palace, destroying the entrance and everything in his path until they reached the throne room.

“Cerebrus what the hell do you think you're doing!"

Aziraphales heart races at the sound of her alpha. She leaned her body away from cerberus and raised her head to her shell-shocked alpha who couldn't seem to believe she was here.

The throne room was deathly quiet and aziraphale felt such an ache tears sprung from her eyes. She gave a wobbly smile "Crowley" she croaked and a cough shook her frame and she gasped from the pain of it. No, no please she just got here! Just a little while longer please! She begged in her mind to Thanos who lurked in the corner of her eye.

Immediately Crowley was at her side taking her in her arms. Aziraphale sobbed at the comforting scent of her alpha. She forgot what she smelled like, oh how could she forget.

Chaos ran around them but all Aziraphale could register was Crowley. Her face, her scent, her touch. Heavens she missed her so much! She nearly choked on a sob and took a ragged breath. She could feel herself getting weaker and weaker.

Crowley who seemed to sense this patted her face with urgency to make her stay awake. "Angel please you have to stay awake just for a little while longer. Anathema is on her way. When she says it's okay, then you can sleep, but you have to wait for her word first, sweetheart please!" Crowley begged with desperation.

Oh her Alpha, her poor alpha looked so tired and aged she wished she could do something for her other than lay in her arms, dying. Tears kept streaming down her cheeks, she was so so happy she could see her Alpha one last time, she was so tired. She heard voices in the background as her vision spun to darkness but all she could hear was Crowley who begged her to stay awake, to stay by her side, to never leave her. With a deep pang of regret she realized for once she might not be able to listen to her love. She was really going to die. She prayed to anyone and everyone for Crowley to find happiness and love after her, as much as it hurt that she couldn’t be there by her side. Tears clogging her throat she mouthed I love you one last time before her hand in crowleys went limp and fell against her side.

Her body ached and she was in pain from what felt like the worst hangover shes ever had. She groaned when she opened her eyes and light filled in. Her vision blurred before clearing and it took her a second to remember what happened. She quickly sat up looking for her alpha who immediately fled to her side from the chair across her bed.

"Easy love, you're alive, you’re safe, you're here in my arms. Nothing will ever take you away from me again I promise you this."

She sobbed against Crowley's chest who rocked her in her lap on the bed she slept on and patiently waited while stroking her hair.

Her alpha whispered quiet reassurances until a few moments passed and Aziraphale stopped crying. She sniffed one last time before raising her eyes to her alpha who looked as wrecked as Aziraphale felt.

"Darling, what happened?"

Crowley took a deep breath and threaded a hand through Aziraphales hair, quietly stroking through it. She waited patiently as Crowley quietly got her bearings together.

"Love, you've been poisoned. The potion they've been giving you for the past twenty years was made of the darkest black magic to suppress our souls bond so we couldn’t feel or sense each other at all. The effects of it were poisoning you slowly," Crowley took a ragged breath "angel you nearly died" she shook as tears fell down her cheeks and she grit her teeth.

"I thought you died," she choked out, "these past twenty years I thought you died because I couldn’t sense you. But then I searched every inch of this place and I couldn’t find or sense you at all! I nearly went mad with trying. All this time you were alive and you could've died any moment and I wouldn't have known!" crowley shook and Aziraphale immediately pressed Crowley’s head against her scent gland who immediately inhaled her scent to assure herself Aziraphale was still with her, alive and still breathing.

"Darling," Aziraphale whispered with love, "Do not for a second blame yourself for any of what has happened. I know in my heart that you've raised heaven and hell to find me. I do not blame you, so don’t you dare blame the love of my life for crimes other people have committed against us. It is not your fault. Do you understand me my alpha?"

Crowley sniffed against her scent gland before raising her head and pressing it against Aziraphales. "Yes, my love. My omega."

Aziraphale knew it would take far longer for Crowley to believe her words, but that's alright. She was here now by Crowleys side, and she would remind her everyday until her alpha believed her.

They stared at each other letting moments pass just basking in each others presence and enjoying every touch and caress they offered each other.

"Love, I know you've just woken up, you must still be exhausted and in pain, and I will wait until you are ready to tell me, but I must know what happened to you the moment you were gone."

Aziraphale hesitated for a moment wondering if there was a right time to tell her before deciding there would never be a right time. So she told her about Gabriel, Sandolph, Michael, Hastur and Ligur, inviting themselves for dinner spiking her wine with what she assumes was the memory loss potion. How they knocked her unconscious and when she woke up they told her she was in an accident. How they kept her on a tight leash and belittled her for breathing every second of the day till she reached the point of praying for death. They wouldn't let her do anything but read, they almost never let her step foot outside. They never let her eat or drink anything but a glass of wine that she now realizes must of been the soul poison. She tells Crowley everything from how Gabriel told her she was finally ready to be his obedient little wife to the confrontation with him at the forest where Crowley and she first met and then running away with Cerberus with her memories regained and intact.

She didn’t realise she was crying until Crowley gently pressed her head against her scent gland urging Aziraphale to inhale her scent to which she gratefully did and immediately calmed down.

They stayed there pressed against each other, holding each other in comfort until Aziraphale felt Crowley shake.

"They took you. They hurt you. They made you pray for death. I will destroy them and tear them limb from limb and let cerberus chew on their bones. Never again angel, I promise nothing will ever hurt you or take you away from me again." Crowley swore and there wasn’t an ounce of doubt that Aziraphale held for her. She believed every word.

[metaphorical-love-for-a-car]

Wretched And Devine-- Aziraphale x Reader

Request; “Can I get a aziraphale x human reader? They're madly in love but aziraphale refrains himself cuz being an angel etc. but he's in pain but turns out she's one of the heavenly beings god put among humanity but she just doesn't know and really dramatic & romantic confessing scene maybe?”(@imaginesyes​) 

Warnings; reader is an Earth Angel, I recommend skimming the article just to get a general idea of what it is

Word Count; 3.2k (buckle up, folks! it’s gonna be a hell of a ride)

Notes; my last Aziraphale fic got flagged, hopefully this one will stay up 🤷🏻‍♀️

You had a relatively normal childhood. You were born to an average working-class family. Your parents called you their 'miracle baby' because just when they thought they were unable to have children, you came about.

You graduated from school with good grades and went on to search for a decent job. But as you began to experience the world on your own, you realized that you weren't quite as normal as one would assume. Things seemed to move around your small flat on their own accord. The movements were never a hassle. In fact, they were always beneficial. Yet you could never remember physically moving the stuff yourself. You brushed it off, joking that either a ghost lived with you, or you had superpowers. Either way, you didn't mind.

Your flat was situated in the middle of Soho, and you often found yourself wandering the city during your free time. One of your favorite places to visit was the park. Sometimes you would go to sit, read, and relax; other times, you would bring some bread with you to feed the ducks. Among the crowd of regular visitors, there was one particular face that you looked forward to spotting. His spiffy choice of clothing and light, curly locks never failed to draw your attention. There was something about him that you found endearing and slightly... nostalgic. You couldn't quite place your finger on it, but you made it your mission to get to know him.

It started small,  commenting on how you liked his bow tie then introducing yourself. After a while, the two of you were able to have a steady conversation with one another. He eventually invited you to his bookshop for tea. The two of you just seemed to hit it off, and, soon enough, you were popping into the bookshop on your way home from work nearly every day.

The more time you spent with Aziraphale, the more you felt yourself falling. You thought he felt the same way, but he started to grow distant. He would disappear for days on end or give excuses as to why he couldn't make it to dinner. It was all odd. You couldn't figure out why his demeanor had suddenly changed, and it was tearing your heart to shreds. He was slowly pushing you out of his life, and you wanted... no, you needed to find out why.

Crowley lounged across the sofa and warily watched Aziraphale pace back and forth across the small room. He was muttering under his breath and occasionally chewing on his thumbnail. The demon rolled his eyes. "I just don't see what the big deal is." A cynical chuckle left Aziraphale's throat.

"Oh, I'm quite sure you do." Crowley scoffed and sat up.

"Okay, so, you're in love." As soon as the 'L' word had left Crowley's lips, Aziraphale froze, staring at the demon with wide eyes. "Don't try to deny it. It's painfully obvious. But despite that, you're pushing them away. Why?" The angel grimaced for a moment. He looked as if he would discorporate at any given moment.

"Because... because they're..." Aziraphale huffed, unsure of the right words to say. Crowley nodded.

"Right. They're human, and Heaven won't be too fond of that." Aziraphale quickly shook his head. A pained expression flooded his features.

"No, it's not even that." Crowley looked confused and watched the angel expectantly. He continued to pace for a moment before stopping with his back turned toward the demon. "Earth angel. You know the one I'm talking about," Aziraphale explained bitterly. Crowley leaned back into the sofa, face darkening.

"Do they know? Have they remembered anything?" Aziraphale sank into his chair and shook his head. He could feel Crowley's gaze burning into the side of his head. "Are you going to tell them?" The angel opened his mouth before quickly closing it again. A suffocating silence filled the room. Aziraphale sighed and finally met Crowley's gaze.

"No. They can't know." His voice cracked midsentence. The angel avoided Crowley's gaze once more, not wanting any pity from the demon.

You tried to phone Aziraphale several times throughout the evening, but there was no answer. You paced through your flat like a caged animal. Running a hand through your hair, you decided that you couldn't take it anymore. You grabbed a coat and made sure to lock the door on your way out.

The sky was dark. It was late, and dark clouds were gathering overhead. Most people were either home with the family or in a pub with a glass in their hand. As you stood on the sidewalk, staring at the bookshop's sign, you wondered if Aziraphale truly did care for you, or if you had just read the signs all wrong. Either way, you were set on giving him a piece of your mind.

You first tried to open the door. Of course, it was locked. Peering inside, you knew he was in there somewhere. There was a light on in the back, and a shadow would flicker by every now and again. You raised a fist and rasped on the door. You held your breath, hoping that he would answer.

You had stood there, knocking on the door for God knows how long. The sky was growing angrier by the minute, with thunder rumbling overhead and the beginnings of a storm hitting the pavement. You huffed. Enough was enough. You opened your hand flat and pressed it against the door. Closing your eyes, you focused all your willpower on the door and its lock. Your nose wrinkled in frustration. The door swung open with a force you didn't know lurked inside you. As you stepped into the shop, thunder roared through the air. You couldn't help the smirk that formed across your face. You apparently had a knack for badass entrances.

Crowley and Aziraphale both leaped to their feet when they heard the door crash open. When they rushed into the shop, they didn't expect to see you standing there with silvery glowing eyes. Neither of them knew how to react when you waved your hand, causing the door to close behind yourself. "We need to talk." Aziraphale swallowed hard and cast a worried glance at Crowley. He returned his gaze to you, nodding.

"Yes, I suppose we do."

You stood in the back room with your arms crossed. Aziraphale filed in and closed the door. His back was turned to you. "How long have you known?" You scoffed.

"Known what? That I have superpowers? Since I moved out of my parents' place. I've been getting better at controlling them lately." You stopped and shook your head. "But that's not what we need to talk about." Aziraphale turned on his heel, giving you a shocked look.

"I most certainly think it is! You obviously don't know what you're capable of. You could—"

"I could what? Hurt somebody? I think I can handle myself," you snapped, eyes glowing even brighter. Aziraphale's jaw tightened until he noticed the tears that were beginning to spill down your cheeks. His throat tightened. It hurt him more than words can describe to see you this upset.

"I think it's probably best that you go home." You shook your head.

"Damn it, Azi. Would you just please quit shutting me out and talk to me?" you pleaded.

"I— er— I don't know what you mean."

"Stop with the bullshit. You've been avoiding me. It's like you just cut me out of your life, and I—" your voice cracked. You sniffed, wiping your nose on the edge of your sleeve. "I can't keep going like this. I love you, Aziraphale. And you might think it's stupid, but I thought you might have loved me too." The angel's shoulders sank. Before he could even process what he was doing, Aziraphale rushed over to you, sweeping you into an embrace. You clung to him as tears flowed freely.

"I love you too," his voice was as faint as a whisper, but you heard it. A weight had been lifted off his chest. It felt good to finally say it, after all these years. "But it won't work." He pulled away from you, taking a few steps back. Hurt and confusion filled your being. As he scanned your features, he noticed how red your nose and cheeks were, and how your eyes were beginning to return to normal. Aziraphale shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts. "This. Us. It just... won't work. We can't be together. We shouldn't even be interacting for all they care." The words rushed out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"What do you mean?" You eyed him expectantly. Aziraphale bit the inside of his cheek, knowing that he had slipped up in mentioning anything. He panicked for a brief moment, but as he stared into your teary eyes, he knew what needed to be done. Aziraphale sucked in a breath and moved closer to you. He carefully placed two fingers on your temples.

"This might hurt a bit."

//

"The Almighty has big plans for this universe, which is why we need all the help we can get. Everything has to be designed perfectly. Each of you will be assigned a task for creation," Michael announced. Various angels were sorted off and given a job. You eyed the crowd, excitedly waiting for your task. You noticed an angel with red hair and golden eyes approaching you.

"Raphael," you greeted politely. He flashed you a grin.

"Your assignment is to help me piece together the cosmos. The Almighty's already planned the major bits, but we can get creative after that." Your eyes lit up as your smile widened. Raphael laughed at your reaction. "I'm excited too. This is definitely one of the more fun assignments if you ask me. Ready?" You gave him a firm nod.

"Let's go."

The Universe was just beginning to come together. It was a hatchling... a newborn... a baby... and things were already falling apart. Lucifer and his band of merry angels were, as most liked to put it, revolting. And because of that, they were getting thrown out of Heaven. You could rationalize that. It was logical. Rebel and you get the boot. But then you heard about Raphael. It was a mistake. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and asked the wrong questions. He shouldn't have been thrown out with the rest of them. He wasn't /evil/.

The rest of the archangels had gathered all of Heaven's angels. They recounted their version of the events. Your brows furrowed as your fists tightened. They made it out like he was a part of it all. Raphael, the angel of healing and your closest companion, was now the enemy. As they continued their spiel, you noticed a bright light being emitted from the front of the large room. It was sweeping over the crowd, and you realized what was happening. They were changing history, altering memories. Nothing would be the same after that. So you tried to slip out as quietly as you could, but a curly-haired angel stopped you. His dark eyes bore into yours. "Where are you going?" his tone was hushed, not wanting to cause a scene. You wracked your mind for an excuse.

"I was given an urgent task." He raised a brow at you. It was clear he didn't believe a word you said.

"And what exactly are you doing?"

"You shouldn't interfere with the Almighty's plan. It's ineffable." You glanced towards the front of the room. The light would be approaching your section at any moment. The angel's eyes widened, and he quickly stepped aside.

"Of course! My apologies..." he trailed off. You gave him your name, and he smiled at you. "Aziraphale," he introduced himself. You started to leave but stopped to put a hand on his shoulder.

"It's important that you speak to no one of this." He nodded solemnly. With that, you left. You disappeared for just a blip of a moment. It wasn't long enough for anyone except for Aziraphale to notice. By the time you had returned, the light was gone. The archangels were finishing their speeches. You managed to slip back in without suspicion. It wasn't long after that everyone was dismissed.

A handful of angels were put in Eden, and you were one of them. You were surprised to see Aziraphale again and even more so when he remembered you. The principality always kept you on your toes. He wasn't like most angels, and you quite enjoyed his company.

The two of you were standing guard on the East wall, watching the first storm roll in. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a snake slithering towards the two of you. You were vaguely aware of who it was. A demon, obviously. But it was the very one that tempted Adam and Eve into eating the forbidden fruit. You watched it carefully as it began to transform. Aziraphale pretended he didn't see it happening. He was always more strict on following Heaven's every whim. You were curious to see what the demon looked like, as you hadn't actually encountered one. As soon as you saw the fiery red hair, your heart dropped. It was Raphael, but slightly different. He had the same hair, and his eyes were still golden, but they resembled those of a serpent's. He made a comment about a balloon, but you weren't paying attention to anything he said. All you could think about was how justice failed your friend. As soon as Raphael laid eyes on you, his face fell. You quickly looked away, not wanting him to see the angry tears that were building in your eyes. "I've got to go. Important stuff. Sorry, Azi." The angel gave you a worried look but nodded nonetheless. You glanced towards Raphael and gave him a sad smile. His brows furrowed, and you nodded, just to let him know that you still remembered. With a flap of your wings, you took off towards Heaven.

You stormed down the long, empty corridor. Once you found the door you were searching for, you froze. There was only half a moment's hesitation before you pushed the heavy door open. There was a single desk in the vast room. An old man was sitting behind it, with dozens of scrolls littering the desk. Three archangels stood around him. Even though you had never met him before, you knew it was the one and only Metatron. They all snapped their attention to you. "Knocking is a common courtesy, (Y/N). I suggest you do it more often," Gabriel growled.

"Yes, we are discussing a matter of great importance. You will have to wait," Metatron huffed. You shook your head.

"I can't. I've already waited long enough." You knew you had their attention. You sucked in a deep breath and silently prayed that you wouldn't fall for any of the things you were about to say. Then you just laid it on them. You ranted about how Raphael didn't deserve to fall, how justice had been skewed, and how they were supposed to be the good guys. When you finished, an uncomfortable tension filled the air. Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose.

"How do you remember that?"

"I left the meeting." That's when all Hell broke loose. It was almost like a screaming match, who can say the meanest thing the loudest? You folded your wings around yourself. Half of you regretted even coming here and just wanted to disappear to the stars again. The other half told you that it was the right thing to do. You clung to the hope of Raphael returning and stood firm.

"Enough!" Metatron's voice boomed. Silence fell over everyone. He stood and grabbed a scroll off the desk. His eyes scanned the document as he unrolled it. Metatron handed it over to Gabriel. "We cannot have any more outliers, but condemning another angel so soon would cause chaos. Perhaps this will be a happy medium," he muttered. Michael and Uriel leaned closer to catch a glimpse of the scroll. They all nodded in approval. "Then it has been settled." Metatron slammed his hand down on the desk, then everything went black.

It happened over, and over, and over again for centuries. New life. New pain. New suffering. Grow old. Die. Round and round you go. No end in sight. You didn't remember every single detail of your lives, but you would catch glimpses of memories. Most would consider it deja vu. You called it a curse. The longer you stayed on Earth, the more you forgot about your past. You forgot about the curly-headed angel. You forgot about the angel-turned-demon with golden eyes. And, for a while, they forgot about you too. With an ever-changing existence, it was hard to keep track of you. Who could blame them?

//

Your knees buckled. Aziraphale caught you and helped you over to the sofa. A broken sob shook your shoulders. You reached over your shoulder and ran a hand over your back, where your wings used to be. When Aziraphale placed a gentle hand on the small of your back, you bolted upright with wide eyes. "Did you see them? The memories?" Panic settled into your core. What if he saw them? What would Heaven do to him? You couldn't let anything bad happen to him.

"No, I only pulled them for you to see." You sighed and relaxed again. He seemed hesitant to touch you again, so you leaned into his side. Aziraphale wrapped an arm around you. A few stray tears slid down your cheeks. He carefully wiped them away with his thumb.

"Thank you," you whispered, "for showing me who I am." He nodded. The two of you sat like that for several minutes. You were almost too afraid to move. You didn't want to ruin the serenity of the moment. You felt Aziraphale take in a deep breath.

"Maybe..." He paused, trying to figure out what to say. "Maybe we could figure out a way for this to work." You sat up to get a better look at him. A soft smile graced his lips, and his eyes were full of pure adoration. It was clear that he meant it when he said he loved you. You could practically feel it radiating from him at this moment. You leaned closer to him until you could feel your breath mingling with his. Aziraphale closed the gap between the two of you, pressing his lips to yours. It was sweet and gentle, everything you'd imagine it would be and more. After a moment, he pulled away from the kiss and rested his forehead against yours.

"Forbidden lovers," you hummed, gazing into his eyes. "Like Romeo and Juliet. But hopefully without all the death." Aziraphale pulled away from you and laughed.

"Well, yes, I should hope so." He gazed at you with a bright and loving smile. You took his hand into your own, tracing shapes in his palm.

Neither of you knew what tomorrow would bring, but the least you could do was enjoy the moment... together.

~*~*~

Tag List;

@kawaiiusagichansan

@fatbottomedboi

[anotherhawk]

5 Times Crowley Died Carelessly (And 1 Time Aziraphale Insisted on Caring) Ch1 - Good Omens Fanfiction

Summary: The fire in the bookshop was the first time Crowley had ever experienced the horror and loss of suddenly and violently being the only occult/celestial being on Earth. Aziraphale, on the other hand, has had plenty of chances to get used to that feeling over the previous 6000 years. Spoiler alert: he hasn't got used to it. Not even a little bit.

Warning for repeated temporary character death and an exceptionally loose and inaccurate account of the Book of Genesis

This should be 6 chapters. You can read it on AO3 here or click the read more below.

He wasn't sure just why he had followed Cain out into the east. If anyone asked he'd probably say that the first murderer seemed an ideal figure to hang around, what with his general remit being to cause trouble and everything. Truthfully he just hadn't really known what else to do. He couldn't have stayed - there. The grief of Eve and Adam had been too much for him to bear.

Most of the time he stayed in his snake form, slithering along in Cain's shadow, unseen or at least unacknowledged, keeping the worst of the weather and the wild animals away from the human and, discreetly bringing him food and water on those occasions when Cain spent more than a day or so lying under a tree, staring dry-eyed at his hands.

Every time he thought about showing himself – saying something. But he couldn’t imagine what he could say that could possibly make any of this better, and he could easily imagine plenty of things he could say which would make it worse. No, the thing of it was, he didn’t understand what had happened. Not really. He didn’t understand and he was pretty sure he was the one responsible.

Eventually Cain cried less and walked more, finally coming to a beach where he built himself a little hut out of assorted tree bits woven together and took up fishing. It wasn’t much of a life, all told, but then no one had much of a life really. There should be more than this, shouldn’t there? What was any of this supposed to accomplish?

As always his questions went unanswered.

With an uncomfortable pang he left Cain behind and spread his wings to fly across the ocean. From there he sort of just kept going – flying, walking, slithering , whatever it took to keep moving and not have to stop and think. Days, turned to nights, turned to days again, and the weather got colder until eventually the rains fell frozen from the sky and gathered in heaps so white they reminded him of Heaven and he hated it. They burned too, in a way that fire didn’t, and at the foot of a mountain range he stuck his hand deep into a drift, wondering if this was holy. It wasn't, he eventually decided. It was just cold.

He gazed up at the clouds obscuring the mountain top. Maybe the view would be clearer from the top. Maybe he'd be able to look across the world and understand what it was all for. Maybe, if he was that high up, She wouldn’t be able to ignore him anymore.1

He decided to climb the mountain on his own two feet, or at least the feet he was currently manifesting. Felt like it was the sort of experience you should work for, and the burn of the ice on his feet distracted him from everything inside his head.

It quickly became apparent that this was more of a struggle than he’d been expecting. In spite of his stern words to the contrary his corporation keep insisting that it needed more and better air to breathe than was available. As a sort of revenge he stopped breathing at all, but developed a splitting headache after an hour or two. And the cold just got worse, the wind biting right through his robes until he couldn’t feel his fingers or toes at all, and his body just wouldn’t stop shaking.

Staring vaguely at the white blotches covering his fingers, he sat down heavily on a miraculously handy rock outcrop, sticking out of the snow field. Just a few moments rest and then he'd either carry on or head back down.

The snow was falling thicker again. He tilted his head back and looked up. “What iss thiss all about?” he asked, scowling as his tongue felt more clumsy in his mouth than usual. Really this body was more trouble than it was worth. “Was it my fault?” he wondered forlornly, and he could pretend he was talking to the uncaring sky, rather than an uncaring anyone else.

He'd spent time with both Cain and Abel as they'd been growing up. Keeping an eye on them, enjoying the day to day family drama. He'd been fascinated when instead of joining his parents in foraging in the forest Cain had started collecting seeds and planting them, letting food grow on the first family's doorstep instead of having to go off and find it. He'd taken to following Cain around his fields and orchards, asking what he was doing and offering suggestions until finally Cain had shoved a couple of stick tools at him and told him to help.

Well, helping wasn't the sort of thing he was supposed to do, but he figured that any way of getting close to the humans was probably alright. 2 So sometimes he and Cain would sit and talk in the fields at the end of the day, watching the sunset. And sometimes Cain would complain about his brother, about being overlooked, and about favouritism and, well, he had never been anyone's favourite anything, and so he sympathised, he really did.

 He sympathised. And he was supposed to stir up trouble. And he'd been bored. So yes, he'd egged Cain on a bit. He'd wanted some fireworks, metaphorically speaking. A bit of a barney, a good old-fashioned family argument with everyone drawn in and taking sides.

 He'd never imagined what could happen. He'd never seen it coming.

 Of course he knew about mortality, there had been plenty of animal deaths by this point. If it came to that he'd seen angels die in the War, and even more die in the Fall. But this had been different. He'd watched Cain and Abel grow up. He'd seen them running and playing together, seen Abel cry in sympathy when Cain fell and bloodied his knee, and he'd seen Cain give up his last few figs to share with his brother. He'd thought they loved each other. He'd thought he understood that at least. But he'd seen Abel lying there on the ground, his face frozen in eternal surprise, and he'd seen Cain standing over him, the rock in his hand, and he'd realised he didn't understand  anything.

 It was only a few words. Only a little temptation. “They are made in your image though, aren't they?” he shouted into the storm. “I suppose overreacting is part of the design!” He stood up dramatically, arms thrown wide and immediately got buffeted off his perch by the wind and swept a little way down the mountain.4 He picked himself up and trudged doggedly back up the mountain. “Where was I?” he asked blearily, trying and failing to find his rock. At least he wasn't shivering now. Small mercies and all that. Actually he didn't even feel that cold anymore. Clearly he was getting the hang of this corporation lark. He looked up towards the top of the mountain. Might as well press on then, really.

 He wished he'd said something else to Cain. Wished he'd said something afterwards. Eve's scream echoed through his mind.

 Cain had been cast out. Cursed. So this couldn't have been part of the divine plan, could it? All of this, all of the little family's suffering, this wasn't by Heaven's design. He had seen the shock and horror on Aziraphale's face, had been certain it was mirrored on his own. Not Heaven's design, and it couldn't be Hell's because  he  was Hell's agent and he hadn't  meant  to. It had just been a few words... But that left it being something Cain had chosen to do himself, and that couldn't be right, could it? He'd loved his brother, hadn't he? If it was a choice, why make  that  one?

 Snow was falling on his face. The ice was hot against his back. He'd just lie here for a minutes more then he'd get up and be on his way. He'd just -

  1Actually if we accept that She is omnipotent we must accept that She is capable of ignoring anything She chooses to. However if we accept that She is omniscient then we must accept that She is also constantly aware of everything that She is actively ignoring. In this way, as in many others, we should probably accept that the demon-who-will-be-known-as-Crowley is something of a headache for all concerned.

2This was the same logic that he had earlier used to justify being Eve's first choice of babysitter on date nights. His angelic counterpart3 kept a dignified distance. Crowley invented peek-a-boo, claiming he was taunting the babies for not understanding object permanence.

3Aziraphale.

4It's possible this could be considered a minor form of divine smiting as a punishment for insolence. It's more probable that it was simply weather. It may even be possible that were we to suppose divine influence in this moment that it was intended as a message along the lines of 'Get off the blessed mountain you bloody idiot, you're literally a snake, you're sitting in a blizzard, and you're not even wearing shoes.'

 It had been the first truly harsh winter and Aziraphale had been kept busy. Eve was expecting again and now.... now the boys were gone the little family had struggled to survive. He'd started off trying to be circumspect about his miracles but in the end he'd just made sure that the fields yielded a full harvest whether anyone was tending them or not, and even then as winter wore on far too long he'd resorted to miracling the food stores full again.

 It was perfectly legitimate, he told himself. The humans were struggling because of demonic action. Angelic intervention was necessary to keep them going.

 It had been demonic action, hadn't it? He'd seen the demon, Crawly, talking to Cain not long before the murder, and Gabriel had certainly been satisfied with that as an explanation. Only Aziraphale had also seen the look on the demon's face afterwards, and that hadn't been satisfaction at a job well done or even enjoyment. That had been bewilderment and grief.

 He would have liked to have had a chance to maybe talk to the demon about if after – get the other side's perspective, so to speak. But he'd been far too busy trying to help the poor parents, and by the time he'd thought about it again Crawly had gone and he hadn't come back.

 Which was fine by him, really. It stood to reason that his job would be much easier if his demonic counterpart decided not to bother doing his.

 Still, it had been a long hard winter and it wasn't surprising that he felt a little odd, he considered, as he watched the sun rising over the hillside. It was only the nature of the oddity that struck him as peculiar. 5 He felt alone, which was strange, since he'd been the only angel permanently stationed on Earth since the Garden. So that shouldn't be a new feeling at all. He'd noticed when the others left, or at the very least he'd felt their absence which was sort of the same thing. So why was it hitting him harder today? Perhaps he should check in with Heaven? He didn't have anything in particular to report, there had been nothing significant since Abel's death, and after the way Gabriel had spoken to him then, he wasn't exactly in a hurry to repeat the experience...but perhaps he should? Perhaps he was lonely. Angels  were  supposed to be social creatures after all.

 But that wasn't exactly what this felt like. It wasn't coming from him, it was coming from the world. As though some vital piece had been ripped out, leaving nothing but a jagged hole. Something was missing. Let's see, he was here, and the humans, and...oh. Oh, dear. That was about it, apart from the expected assortment of God's creatures. Just him and the humans and a jagged hole where his demonic counterpart should be.

 This was the sort of thing he should investigate, wasn't it? Heaven would surely expect a report on demonic activity. And if he focused he thought he could sense where Crawly had last been – where he'd died presumably. Or discorporated, rather? This was all so new.

 He made absolutely sure that the humans would be fine on their own for a while and set out, flying across the world in a matter of days. He could have done it faster, of course, but then someone might have noticed and he'd really rather not have to explain what he was doing every time he turned around.

 Eventually he found himself flying up the side of the tallest mountain in the world. He was well above the snow line and good gracious it was cold. He shivered and automatically performed a minor miracle to keep the air immediately surrounding him at a comfortable temperature.

 He found the remains of the demon fairly easily, thawing the ice around the sad little lump so he could dig it out of the snow. There was no sign of violence or injury. It looked as though Crawly had just laid down and died.

“What in the world were you doing up here?” he asked, knowing that he was talking to nothing but a husk of flesh, the demon himself long since departed. “And why didn't you just miracle yourself warm for heaven's sake?”

 In death the demon didn't look especially intimidating.6 In fact, if it wasn't for the pale skin and those snake eyes, Aziraphale could easily have mistaken the body for human. Remembering how Adam and Eve had acted he reached out to close the eyes over only to find that in his transition between snake and human Crawly apparently hadn't bothered to install eyelids. He clicked his tongue and smoothed out the frown lines from the brow instead. Evil was apparently troubling even to its instigators. He didn't know how to feel about that.

 There didn't seem to be anything for him to do here. This wasn't any hellish scheme, Crawly had simply got too cold and discorporated. Probably he was down in hell right now, doing whatever it was demons did on their own time. No doubt either he or another demon would be back sometime soon and the status quo would resume. In the meantime he should get back to the humans, no point in lingering here.

 He lingered there, staring down at the red curls strewn across Crawly's face. Enemy or not, empty husk or not, just leaving him here didn't feel quite proper. The remains of a demon shouldn't just be left lying around, should they? That had to be some kind of hazard. The humans might come here at some point and it might be dangerous.

 Justifications firmly in place, Aziraphale carried Crawly down the mountain and buried him beneath an apple tree.

5Not that he had much to compare it to.

6Aziraphale had never been especially intimidated by him in life either.

[our-smooty]

Flowerbeds and Fertile Soil: Chapter 2

Fandom: Good Omens Rating: Explicit

Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens, )Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer

Tags:  Kidfic, Mpreg kind of, they can choose to present however so idk, Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley Has A Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has A Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has A Vulva (Good Omens), OCs Galor, parenting, using your snake form to avoid confrontation, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Pregnancy, if I missed a tag lemme know

Summary: They could do anything, go anywhere, all without the worry of Above or Bellow making a fuss. Even so, they mostly kept to their little patch of Eden, their cottage and garden and the simple life they’d carved out among the locals. Aziraphale opened a book shop in town, where he only occasionally sold any books (and the ones he did sell, were all modern and stocked specifically for that purpose). Crowley focused his attentions on the garden, and if he occasionally helped their elderly neighbour with her disobedient willow tree, then that was a secret no one needed to know. Lately, however, they had both been feeling rather restless, unbeknownst to each other. Aziraphale tried reorganizing his store, changing the way he tied his bowtie and even ate pizza –something he considered to be far too messy for him personally. Crowley had branched out into birdwatching, and then car maintenance (the human way), and even reading. Nothing scratched the itch for either of them.

Ao3 Link

My Ko-Fi

“Oh Crowley,” the angel moaned right in his ear, breath hot and damp and making the baby hairs near his temple stick down. Crowley was pressed into the bed below Aziraphale, the entirety of his back in contact with glorious, soft skin. The hot hardness of Aziraphale’s cock inside him, splitting him open and really making him feel it. “So good, love, so good for me.”

“Aziraphale,” Crowley moaned into the pillows, canting his hips back, trying to get more of the angel inside him. Aziraphale’s cock was thick and long, hitting all those perfect spots inside. “Aziraphale yes.”

“I’m not going to last dear.” Crowley shuddered and thrust his hips again, trying to force Aziraphale to move. It worked and the angel began pulling back, then thrusting in at a slow, indulgent pace. “You’re so wet for me, so soft.”

“For you, angel, for you--!” And it was true, Crowley had never felt this way with anyone else. He’d had many human partners over the years, some he’d even sort of cared for, but none of them could compare to what he felt for Aziraphale. His love for the angel was a white-hot, burning thing that ate up anything in it's wake. “Take me, take me, take me.”

"I will,” Aziraphale answered darkly, keeping the slow speed but pushing in harder and there--! “I’m going to take everything you can give me Crowley, and then I’m going to give it all back.”

That was a very Aziraphale way of saying he was going to cum inside the demon, filling him up in that way Crowley craved from time to time. Tonight he’d practically begged for it, rutted into Aziraphale’s lap as he read until the angel noticed the dampness seeping from Crowley’s sex onto their trousers. Crowley hadn’t outright said anything, but Aziraphale always seemed to just know what he needed.

“Oh please angel, do it, do it!” Crowley was mindless with pleasure, clawing at the bed and howling as each thrust pummeled his g-spot. His clit barely brushed the bedsheets on the downswing but it didn’t matter, he was going to cum no matter what. Even though he’d already come twice with Aziraphale eating him out and once from his fingers. Whenever Aziraphale took it upon himself to spoil Crowley he always did a very thorough job.

Aziraphale removed his hands from where they’d been pinning Crowley’s arms to the bed to ghost over his hips. One of them cupped the demon’s lower belly, pressing and kneading at the flesh there. Crowley moaned at the added pressure. Though it really shouldn’t have, it shot a bolt of lust through him. There was something about the protectiveness and maybe the possessiveness of the action that made things that much more intense. 

“Built to take me--oh Crowley good Lord you wicked, lovely thing!” Aziraphale was babbling but Crowley didn’t care. He liked hearing Aziraphale’s voice, and he especially liked hearing Aziraphale’s voice say those things. There was a gathering heat in his belly, right under the angel’s hands and he began whining, high pitch and needy.

All of a sudden the only thing he could think about was how it would feel when Aziraphale came inside him. How wet he’d be, the noises, the sticky-satisfied feeling he’d leave behind. How Aziraphale would, possibly, beg to eat him out afterward. What would happen if Crowley, for just one brief second, gave in and tweaked his anatomy, switched a few things on. The mere idea of having something of Aziraphale and him inside him, some proof of their love and their devotion to each other, was enough to make him clench down subconsciously. 

“O-oh Crowley!” Aziraphale stammered his cock thickening and then spilling honestly excessive amounts of cum inside him. Between the pressure of the angel’s hand on his belly and the swelling of the cock inside Crowley felt so full, so full--he couldn’t help but come, convulsing against the sheets with a strangled, low moan. 

The moments between when they came and when Aziraphale pulled out were nothing but warm, contented bliss for Crowley. He couldn’t have cared less about what was going on around him; his mind was stuck somewhere in that gentle, soft place created by the bed and Aziraphale’s weight on his back. He’d been right, things felt downright soaked down there, and the stickiness was more than a little unpleasant. It was worth it though, for a sense of pure satisfaction he felt. Behind him, Aziraphale was nuzzling against his spine, staying as close as possible. 

“Crowley?” the angel hummed, voice sleepy and sated. Crowley wiggled happily, grinding his arse back against the soft cock still pinned there. 

“M’good angel, s’good,” he slurred. There was cum leaking out of him and onto the bedsheets. He reached down to stick a few fingers inside, keeping it there for a little while longer. “Why’d you pull out?”

“I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable, darling,” Aziraphale answered. “Normally you’re so sensitive after.” 

“I am sensitive, that’s what makes it good,” Crowley laughed, shuddering as Aziraphale ghosted his hands over his hips and arse. They could go again, of course they could they weren’t actually human. They could fuck as many times as they wanted in a row without the need to stop and rest if they so chose. It just happened both of them both chose to let themselves be a little more human than the average demon or angle. Eventually, Crowley removed his fingers from his cunt and Aziraphale rolled onto his side, pulling Crowley along with him so they were spooning. 

“Are you tired?” Crowley asked. Sometimes Aziraphale didn’t feel like sleeping, though he did so much more often now that they lived together. Crowley still preferred to sleep on a regular schedule, however, so he always asked before passing out and trapping the angel. 

“Very, you wore me out thoroughly, Crowley,” Aziraphale murmured into Crowley’s hair. It’d come free of the braid the demon normally kept it in and fell in sweaty hanks around his shoulders. Between that and the drying cum between his legs, Crowley was beginning to feel uncomfortable, so with a snap, they were both clean and the bed linens were fresh. 

“Good, wanna sleep with you.” He was already drifting off when he felt Aziraphale shifting behind him, running soft hands up and down his sides. Usually, when they were about to sleep, Aziraphale would go still and silent. Even after 10 years of sporadic sleeping, it didn’t come naturally. But now he was moving, keeping Crowley awake with his constant petting.

“I wanted to ask if you’ve given any more thought to that… thing we talked about a few days ago?” Aziraphale’s voice was still quiet, but much less sleepy than Crowley’s own. 

“What thing?” He was more interested in getting reacquainted with their comfy pillow and sheet set than doing much thinking. The 1000 thread-count sheets had been one of his choices since Aziraphale knew nothing about fabrics outside of his clothes. The colour had been a compromise, a nice earthy green that they could both agree on (though Aziraphale had fought long and hard for tartan, Crowley stood his ground). 

“The, well, the baby thing?”

For a few moments, Crowley could only think about the strange thoughts that had taken over him right as they both climaxed. They’d been nice thoughts, little fantasies he’d planned on keeping to himself. But they were fantasies and he knew that. Apparently the angel couldn’t understand that. 

“Told you no, thought I made that clear,” he said, sobering some and shaking off the afterglow. His desire to snuggle further into the pillows and sheets was immediately crushed; all he could think about was getting away from this conversation. “You said you wouldn’t keep going on about it.”

“But you want the same as me, Crowley, I can feel it!” So much for sleeping in his nice comfy bed. Crowley slithered out from under Aziraphale’s arm and to the edge of the bed. Sure, Azirahale could feel things in the way that angels and demons could feel lots of things others were experiencing, but it was all up to interpretation. Crowley wanted, yes he wanted, but there was a difference between wanting and getting that his angel didn’t seem to understand. “It’s not like you to be scared like this! Id we could just talk--”

“Shut, up!” Crowley seethed, willing his legs not the shake as he left the bed in search of his trousers. Surely there was a bar open somewhere where he could drink himself silly and no one would try and talk to him. Or maybe he could take the Bently out for a drive, burn off all this extra feeling on a long country road.

“I don’t even think this is about Heaven and Hell!” Aziraphale shouted from where he sat on the bed, arms crossed and face ruddy. “Crowley I see how you look at the girls, how you never want to leave after our meetings with them. And I’ve seen you for 6000 years being especially kind of children. I can sense love and you love children. I’ve never known you to let Above or Below stop you from getting something you want. Why now, that we’re finally free to--”

“We are a demon and an angel! Can you even imagine the things Heaven and Hell would do to get their hands on our children? You remember what they did to the Nephilim, yes? How they were destroyed, or turned into monsters haunting the lowest pits of Hell? N-now think, just God-damned think Aziraphale, if that was our kid! I couldn’t live with myself if that happened, or if they came out all wrong because of what I am, or--”

“Because of what you are?” Aziraphale interrupted brown furrowing. “Crowley is this about you being a demon?”

“Of course it’s about me being a demon! We don’t even know if an angel and a demon can… and if we can if the demon bits will work with the angel bits or if they’ll just ruin everything. Oh Somebody what if they turned out s-sick or s-something, because of--” He hadn’t even considered the fact that him being a demon could taint the kid. Or maybe he had, but he hadn’t thought about it because kids could not happen. And if they didn’t happen, he didn’t have to think about how his Fall was still torturing him over 6000 years later. 

“Crowley!” Aziraphale called, getting out of the bed and rushing over to where Crowley had stopped dead in the middle of the room. “Crowley dear calm down!”

“Don’t tell me to bloody calm down! I told you to drop it! And you won’t stop asking! It can’t happen!” He was getting hysterical now. Hadn’t they been over this before? Why did Aziraphale have to keep dragging everything back up? Rubbing what they couldn’t have in his face over and over. There were tears at the corners of his eyes and he wasn’t sure if they were from anger or frustration. Aziraphale stood a few feet away hovering guilty.

“It’s not fair!” Crowley bemoaned through clenched teeth. That was the core of it, wasn’t it? That they could have anything they wanted not, except for this. Because he’d asked questions, stupid questions 6000 years ago. The regret was strong enough to make him gag a little. “If I h-hadn’t Fallen, we could h-have--” 

“Crowley, Crowley, Crowley,” Aziraphale said breathlessly. “I didn’t realize--I’m sorry.” Aziraphale was often a little tone-deaf to situations like that, but he usually knew not to push once Crowley said no. Stupid, headstrong angel, who was moving too fast now?

“I told you we can’t, you said you’d drop it but you aren’t.” He took a deep breath before turning away from the angel to look for his shirt. “You aren’t fucking listening to me, I said we can’t! I can’t! And you going on and on about it isn’t going to change that!”

Aziraphale watched him get dressed silently. It was unusual for the angel to have nothing to say, but then again it was also unusual for Crowley to get this upset. Crowley rarely raised his voice, not in anger at least, and never towards Aziraphale. The fact that he’d gotten close made it abundantly clear that unless one of them backed off, this fight was going to cause some serious damage.

“I think I’m gonna go back to my flat for a while, cool off.” It nearly physically hurt him to say, but it was necessary. If Crowley didn’t put some distance between them now he knew from experience that one of them would say something truly hurtful. But even if it was for the best, it was still extremely difficult.

“O-oh,” Aziraphale whispered, hie eyes immediately beginning to shimmer with unshed tears. Crowley had kept flat for instances like this, where one or both of them needed time to themselves. He hadn’t had to use it very often in the last decade, but there were occasions where one of them felt strongly about something, and the other disagreed, so it had come in handy. The transition from hereditary enemies to lovers wasn’t always as smooth as expected. 

“I’ll be back in a few days, call if you need anything.” Of course he’d answer if Aziraphale needed anything, he wasn’t that mad. The angel wiped at his eyes and nodded glumly. It was a sorry sight, and enough to make Crowley soften a little. “Two days, OK? Just give me some time.”

Aziraphale looked up and offered a sheepish look. “Yes, OK. I’m sorry dearest.” Suddenly he seemed to remember he was completely naked and snapped his fingers so a soft, taupe robe fell around his form. “If you could let me know you’re alright… I would appreciate it.”

Crowley sighed again then snapped his own fingers so he was wearing a full outfit. It was late outside, and getting colder, so he added a jacket and scarf before turning to leave. “I’ll text you, angel. Get some sleep.”

The Bently was, of course, waiting for him in the driveway where he’d left it after running out to pick up lunch. Crowley stalked over to it and flung himself into the drivers seat. Right before he pulled out he saw a swish of the curtains to their bedroom window, then a shock of light hair. It really was hard to stay mad at the angel. But if 10 years of cohabitation and 6000 years of waiting had taught him anything, it was that boundaries were important. And Aziraphale had stamped all over his.

[crowley-fe11]

Started dabbling in Ineffable Husbands

You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!

You both like mpreg, ineffable husbands, and omegaverse.

Stranger: Hey Angel. How are you feeling? How's Little Angel? C Do you need anything? C

You: Hello Darling. We're both doing well. A Just a cuddle would be lovely. A

Stranger: Yeah? You're free now? I could come over. C I got a few things. C

You: Oh, that's incredibly sweet of you. A But yes, whenever you're able. A

Stranger: I'll be there in three minutes. How long have we got? All day? C I got some tea that's supposed to settle your stomach too. Is that any better? C

You: Oh, that is delightful! And you're welcome to stay as long as you'd like. A But that will be a lifesaver, thank you. A

Stranger: Really? Even if the shop is open? I'll take you up on that, angel. C Are you hungry? C

You: I've been mostly resting in the back in case anyone comes in. A But I've been barely able to keep much down. It's rather miserable. A

Stranger: Angel... why didn't you say something? I'll bring the tea and some soup. C

You: Please, you know I don't like making a fuss. A You're really too kind, you know that? A

Stranger: Angel. We both love making a fuss. C I'm just kind enough. You're having my baby. Or at least I assume it's mine. Never asked. C

You: Of course it's yours! Whose else would it be? A But I appreciate everything you've done. A

Stranger: Well I don't know. There was that poet.. or author... or playwright... whatever. C I've hardly done anything yet. C

You: You're still coming by with things and to keep me company. A

Stranger: I've hardly gotten started, angel. Don't thank me until I do something out of the ordinary. C ...You like chicken soup, right? Noodles or rice? C

You: Watch out, or you'll have me spoiled rotten this whole pregnancy. A Either one would be lovely. A

Stranger: That would be a good thing. C I'll bring both. C

You: Though full disclosure, if you spoil me so much, you'll likely receive more compliments. A

Stranger: I like those. C When I earn them. C

You: I just figured I'd warn you. A I take it I'll see you soon? A

Stranger: I'm speeding your way now, angel. C

You: Just be careful. A

Stranger: Always, angel. Always. C

You: See you soon, love. A

Stranger: Crowley sauntered in with difficulty a few minutes later. He was hindered by quite a few bags. "Angel?!" he called. "I'm going to put the kettle on so you can try this tea. You need to eat." he said. He shoved all the baby things in one pile and took another three bags into the back for Aziraphale.

You: Aziraphale sat in the back with the office door open, figuring if he needed to make a run to the toilet with any wave of nausea that hit him, he might as well not do so with any customers around. Though when the bell rang with the demon's entrance, he smiled a bit and got up to greet him. "You're too sweet, thank you," he told the other gratefully, though the other bags Crowley had brought in caught his eye. "And what's all this?" He asked curiously, his heart already melting a bit at how much out of his way the other went for him.

Stranger: "Well... this is full of clothes that I thought you'd like that will fit you once you grow a bit more." he said, setting down one bad. "This is full of soup." he said, setting down another, "And this has a few kinds of tea that claim to settle the stomach. Let's start with... ginger." he said with a cheeky grin. He immediately switched on the kettle and took down Aziraphale's favorite mug.

You: "Ginger sounds like it would be a safe option," Aziraphale replied with an adoring smile as he watched the other before he peeked in the bag with the clothing, pleased to find it fit in with his usual style choices. "You are seriously too good to me," he told the other, figuring it might be best to hold off on the soup until he gave some of the tea a try.

Stranger: "I just did some shopping, angel. It wasn't difficult." he said. "There are a few bags of baby things as well. I just didn't want you to have to do it all yourself... especially since you're not feeling well. I'll do everything if you'll let me. Everything that's needed." he belatedly realized he hadn't properly said hello so he walked over and planeted a kiss on Aziraphale's forehead.

You: "I know, but it's still incredibly thoughtful," Aziraphale told him with a fond smile, wrapping his arms around the demon before kissing him softly. "I really do appreciate it all, and I'd love to take a look at the things you got for the baby." He couldn't be happier that Crowley was getting so involved, and he knew despite his dislike of any compliments, he deserved as many as he could give the demon.

Stranger: Crowley smiled and kissed him properly. "Tea first." he said. "Sit down, angel. Don't want you getting dizzy from lack of food..." Crowley eased Aziraphale into a chair and then poured his tea. He set the mug next to him and kissed his hair. "Here... it'll help. I know it. You need to feed that little one."

You: "Thank you," he told the other as he sat down and felt the tender kiss against his scalp. He then took a small sip from the steaming mug, hoping it would indeed calm the turmoil his stomach was being put through. "It's certainly yours with all the hell it's been raising," he added with a fond chuckle. "Though hopefully this doesn't go on for too much longer."

Stranger: "No doubt... here." Crowley began rubbing Aziraphale's shoulders. He knew it wouldn't help his stomach... but it was possible that it would take his mind off of it. "Alright... sit here and I'll tell you what I got for the baby. The first thing I think you'll like is a plush snake. I couldn't resist."

You: Crowley rubbing his shoulders did make for a lovely distraction, and the angel grinned as the other told him what he'd picked up for their little one. "That's perfect," he responded with a grin as he glanced back at the demon, taking another sip of his tea.

Stranger: "Also got a few onesies. Zira, they are so tiny you won't believe it. They are going to be so /small/. I almost wept in the store. And nappies. And bottles. I wasn't sure what else we need yet... I need to do some reading, but you know me... it goes slow." he said. "I've been trying. I promise."

You: "Oh that's so lovely," Aziraphale responded, drawing in a quiet breath before drinking more of the tea. The last thing he needed to do was be a sappy, emotional mess right this second, only when his nausea was beginning to calm down. "The tea's helping so far. Thank you for thinking of that, along with everything else.."

Stranger: "I just want to be good for you. For you both." Crowley said earnestly. "I love you... and I love them already and I just... really want to be good enough." he said. "Is it helping? The tea?"

You: "You've been phenomenal so far," Aziraphale told him genuinely. "And I love you too, and so does the little one. I know they do," the angel added with a small smile. He reached over to take out one of the containers of soup from one of the bags Crowley had brought, figuring maybe he could start on it now.

Stranger: "Let me heat that up for you first, angel." he said. He picked up one of the containers and transferred it to a bowl. "Have you felt them move yet? I was thinking we should go to a doctor and get one of those scan things."

You: "Not quite yet. I think it might still be a little early still, but I'm sure at some point soon we can feel them," Aziraphale answered. "Though getting a scan may not be a bad idea. Would you like to come to that appointment?"

Stranger: "Would I-? Angel, of course I'm going." Crowley said. "I wouldn't let you go by yourself." he said. He placed a steaming bowl of soup in front of his angel and sat next to him, flopping into a chair. "Angel, do you use your sofa often?"

You: "Thank you, love," he told the other when Crowley handed him the bowl, first testing with a spoonful of the broth, though he couldn't help but smile at the other's insisting on joining him. "Why do you ask?"

Stranger: "I just thought I could start spending the night here... if it's not in your way." Crowley said. "It might be nice. And it will encourage me to read more and sleep less, I'll tell you that." he said. He watched him anxiously. "How do you feel? Keeping it down alright?"

You: "So far so good," Aziraphale answered with a smile, figuring he'd go for some of the rice next, though he still took his time. "You're welcome to, if you'd like, though you don't have to resign yourself to the sofa."

Stranger: "I'll be wherever you want me, angel." he said. He stood again and started to clean up the slight mess he'd made doing a very small amount of cooking. "Have you taken to sleeping lately?"

You: "Well, I've gotten tired a bit more easily lately, so I've needed to rest more," Aziraphale shrugged. "Though, that isn't to say there isn't room for you in my bed, if you'd like to stay over. In fact, I think it could be rather nice..."

Stranger: "Angel..." Crowley asked with a dazed look on his face. "Are you asking me to spend the night sleeping next to you?" he asked it like it was the most romantic thing he had ever heard in his life.

You: "Yes, if you'd like to," Aziraphale offered, looking back over at the demon with an adoring gaze. It was a bit romantic, he supposed, by their standards anyway. "You could even move your plants in as well. I'm sure they'd be happy with all the natural light."

Stranger: Crowley felt like he might faint. This must be what it was like to be swept off his feet. After six thousand years... were they moving in together? "You know... I'm not very attached to the flat. I would love to be with you here when the baby comes... full time."

You: "You would?" Aziraphale asked, nearly fumbling his spoon at the idea of Crowley being there full time. Being there with the baby comes. Raising them together... "Oh, that sounds absolutely lovely," he answered, his heart fluttering at the thought, tears beginning to blur the corners of his vision.

Stranger: "Really? I mean... I'd like to be a proper Dad. You know... raise them equally with you. Be there every day. Feed them, change them, teach them, watch them grow... all with you and loving you every second and... I mean... if you trust me with that." he said. "Oh, Zira... don't cry..."

You: Crowley's words only seemed to invoke more of the same emotion, and Aziraphale drew in a shaky breath. "Sorry, it's the hormones," he explained softly. "Though there is no other way I'd rather spend my days than with you by my side, caring for and raising this child together."

Stranger: Crowley miracled a handkerchief for him and dabbed at his eyes. "If it's the hormones then we're in trouble, because you're almost taking me with you." he said, sniffing slightly. "I never thought any of this could happen. Being with you or having a child... moving in together. Seems impossible."

You: "And here we are," Aziraphale added with a watery smile, reaching up to stroke Crowley's cheek gently. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me along with this little one," he added as he looked up at the other.

Stranger: "So I'm the second best thing and the direct cause of the first best thing? I'll take that, angel." he said with a cheeky grin. "Come on. Eat up." Crowley reached over and rubbed his belly softly, smiling in his tender way. "Sorry." he said awkwardly after he met Aziraphale's eyes. Rubbing someone's middle probably wasn't a normal thing to do this early.

You: Aziraphale shook his head and chuckled at the other's words before he started eating again, glad to find that at this point, any nausea he had subsided, and so he could enjoy the soup the demon had brought him. Though the hand on his middle made him smile all the more, and he looked to the other with a loving smile. "There's nothing to apologise for. Though you might have better luck feeling them in the next month or two."

Stranger: "I don't believe in luck. But I can be patient." he said. He was secretly very pleased that his contribution seemed to have settled Aziraphale's stomach. He cleaned up the dishes with a bit of pep in his step.

You: Aziraphale gave an adoring smile as he set on finishing off the soup, and once his bowl was empty, he brought it over to the sink and kissed Crowley's cheek softly. "Thank you so much for all of this."

Stranger: Crowley pulled Aziraphale into his arms and held him. "You're welcome, angel. Thanks for letting a demon move in with you. Might take some getting used to. I'll try not to make the place smell of sulphur." he teased.

You: "You best not, or you might have to deal with the worst of my morning sickness," Aziraphale teased in return, though he enjoyed the other's embrace, humming as he wrapped his arms around him and nuzzled into him gently.

Stranger: Crowley buried his face against Aziraphale and breathed in his smell. "Alright, alright. No sulphur. But lots of bebop." he teased again. "And I'm going to make you eat and sleep. You'll think I'm nannying you."

You: "Well, you do have experience with that," Aziraphale chuckled, thinking back to when they were looking after who they thought was the Antichrist. "I think it sounds like a plan. Eating shouldn't be a problem once the sickness passes, but I'll appreciate everything in the meantime."