#the demon put a basket with a baby in it in the backseat of his car untethered and let it slide around

[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

[thenextchapter22]

Mail Order… Kitten Girl

Part 7: Bath Time

Description: Satan accidentally orders a special type of ‘cat’ online after having a few too many drinks…

Tags: Past Abuse, Past Non/Con, Slavery, Pet Play, Cat Hybrids, Fluff, Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content

Pairing(s): Reader/Everyone (but Luke)

Link to my AO3: Click Here

In this chapter: Continuation of the last chapter... Asmo gives Kitten a bath, featuring some fluff and hurt/comfort...

Part One  Part Two  Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

+++++ MINORS DNI +++++

Asmo carried you into his bedroom first, and then straight into his bathroom which adjoined it. It was one of his favorite places, he always told you.  

The smells that hit your nose were sweet, and the air was warm and pleasant on your exposed body. You began to purr, tail flickering lazily, occasionally brushing against his body to make him shiver. The continued contact with another person always brought you comfort, so you curled up into him, pressing your breasts to his shirt, feeling small in his arms like you did with all your Master’s when they held you or carried you. They were large demons, after all, and you loved to be coddled.  

"Smells nice," you commented quietly.  

Asmo smiled down at you. "I was hoping that these aromas wouldn't overwhelm that sensitive little nose~" he leaned down and eskimo kissed you, making you giggle.  

He set you on a cushioned bench along the wall. As he sat you down, you squeaked and reached up for him immediately, your bum tensing up. "Ngg!"  

The demon made a sympathetic sound. “Oh Kitten, does it hurt?” He lifted you up again into his arms, careful to hold you at your thighs and back with each arm. You did, after all, still have that plug nestled inside of you, your hole throbbing around it.  

You shook your head, pressing into his neck. “S-sore, ‘s all.”  

“Here, let’s lie you down instead.”  

He got a pillow and placed it at the edge of the bench, and lay you down on your side. The leash was still attached to your collar, and so you moved it to drape it so that didn’t get in your way. Your Master would take it off, you were not permitted.  

There were still some aftershocks from before, and you blushed remembering what happened. Cumming in front of all your Masters... So obscene, and really fun, too.  

But now, as you watched Asmo pouring oils of different colors into the large tub, you made the realization of just what was about to happen, and it honestly started to scare you.  

You had a fear of water. Or rather, a fear or taking baths. Of being dunked in deep water. So far you had only showered, and the warm rain-like water made you clean and felt nice—you liked the rain, it was calming—and you had room to breathe inside the shower.  

The fear was like a dark smoke clogging your lungs, and every inhale made it harder to breathe. Memories of past baths at that terrible place began washing over your mind, and you whimpered, bringing a claw-extended hand to your mouth to keep quiet. Your Master wanted you to take a bath, you had to do it...  

But Asmo heard your groan. His head popped up to face you from where he was kneeling over the giant tub. “Kitten?”  

His soft-spoken concern had you crying. You sniffled, and your voice echoed in the room, “No bath, please!”  

His orange-yellow eyes widened. “Baby, no, don’t cry,” he begged, quickly rushing to you. He took your hand from your mouth and held it tight, stroking over your knuckles with his thumb. “What’s wrong, do you not want to have a nice bath?”  

Your mouth stretched open into a wail, “Nooooo-”  

He hushed you, and pet your hair with his other hand. “Love, it’s okay, I’m here. Please tell me what’s troubling you, so I can help.” His hands kept caressing you, trying to alleviate your anguish. From your head to your cheeks, he was continuously touching you, grounding you.  

Eventually he took a seat on the bench by your head, and you crawled into his arms, the plug in your butt was uncomfortable but it took a backseat to the emotional distress. Your hands curled around his neck, and your legs outstretched one way over his, and you cried for a little while, his arms rubbing your back and neck, his lips kissing your head and cheeks, shushing you softly.  

“Darling, I have you,” he would say over and over.  

Soon enough you were just shaking, and breathing slowly and with minimal trouble. Your face felt raw, as did your throat. You leaned back a bit from his body to breathe, and glanced at his face. His kind eyes stared into your own, and you gathered the courage to speak on the past that haunted you.  

“They-” you stuttered out, “w-would make m-me go un-nder. Hold m-me, h-hurt me...”  

“You’re talking about where you came from?” he said, tense as he held you.  

“Y-yeah...” you sniffled.  

Flashes of ‘before’ came behind your eyes. Dunked in a large basin with cold water, or too hot water. Your ears got wet and it hurt. They tore your tail with rough scrubbing, and your skin was fire hot and itchy.  

You sobbed dryly. “I-I’m scared...”  

Asmo kissed your head. “Do you want me to go in with you? I can put on my swimsuit, or not. Whatever my Kitten needs.”  

You nodded. That would be better, you thought. Having him close, your Master by your side. “Please, in with me? Um, n-no clothes? But I don’t wana play... Is that okay, Master?”  

He cooed. “Of course, dearheart.” He reached around and grabbed your collar, the bell ringing, “let’s get this off, and then we’ll go in the tub.”  

The collar and leash were taken off, and he lifted you up as he stood. You gasped, not expecting that, and frantically gripped his neck, claws digging in a bit. He winced but said nothing. Then he set you down on the edge of the tub, and you stood on shaky legs. “Put your feet in and tell me if it’s too hot or cold, okay?”  

You did as he asked, dipping a toe in, and it was perfect. You looked up at him and nodded shyly. “The water is fine...”  

He grinned. “Perfect!” He held out his hand, and you took it, and he helped you step in. “Careful, there are steps here to get in.”  

You took a deep breath, each step making it harder. Eventually you were up to your breasts, and he got his clothes off quickly and slipped in the tub, too.  

“Why don’t you go over here, beautiful, so I can take out your plug,” he pointed to the side.  

You bent over the side of the tub, knees on the outer seating but still in the water, just a few inches of your back out of the warmth. He put his hand on your inner thigh and pulled you open, and then grabbed the plug to gently twist and pull. It hurt a little, and you clenched down.  

“No, no, love, you need to loosen up so I can pull it free. Bare down now,” he whispered.  

You did, and it was easier then, and the plug came loose. Your bottom felt open and loose, and he softly rubbed his finger over your abused hole. “Does it feel good, or bad?” he asked matter of fact.  

You shifted from side to side, and winced. “Hurts, not a lot, though.”  

“Hm, that’s very good. Satan used plenty of lube. When we’re done, I'll put some lotion on it to help the aches.”  

You settled back down, sitting carefully on your bottom. He came over and maneuvered behind you, and you felt him against your back, his cock wasn’t hard but it was there, and you suddenly had a thought that you should please him.  

“I-I...”  

He understood, and placed his hands around your body, skin to skin, chest to your back, his head fitting to the side of your face. He was soft and warm. “It’s okay, we don’t have to do anything. Let me wash your hair, and your tail if you’d like that.”  

You were glad of that. You loved pleasing them, but the non-sex stuff you did with them was fun, too.  

“Please... I-I'd like that, Master...”  

“All right then, lovely kitty, we’ll get your hair wet first.”  

He cupped a hand over your eyes, and water was pouring over your head, and he was mindful of your ears, too. You were tense, though, and he paused after he did it the first time. “Kitten, are you okay if I keep going?”  

You swallowed with eyes shut tight. “Y-yes. Just... my ears, please...”  

“I’ll be careful not to get water in them, I promise.”  

He used a cup and poured it over your head, and was patient when you tensed up. He kissed your cheeks, and said how proud he was of you, how brave you were. It made you blush.  

“So sweet~”  

“Master, please...”  

He laughed, and nodded. “Okay baby, now for the shampoo.”  

He lathered up a sweet-smelling shampoo that was on the outside of the tub in a basket and scrubbed it on your scalp. You immediately leaned back into it. “I put some calming oils in the tub for you, and this is one of my favorite shampoos. It softens your hair and smells like cotton candy. You like sweet things, don’t you, Kitten?” he teased.  

You blushed. “Yes, Master, I do...” It was known by now that you liked sweets. Cakes, candy, anything with cream. It was all tasty and you never got to have much.  

“I love sweet things, too. Especially sweet Kittens like the one in my arms,” he bent to kiss your neck, and you shivered. It was a sensitive spot for you, your neck. He just hummed, “Let’s rinse this out, and then we can condition your hair.”  

You were thankful he was telling you what he was doing. You still felt a nervous but having his hands caress you and guide you was perfect.  

He finished rinsing your hair, and it was done. Then he did the same with conditioner, and it was all good, no water in your ears.  

He pecked your cheek. “Such a good job,” he praised. “Can I touch your tail?”  

You nodded, and lifted your tail out of the water. “Here... ‘m sensitive at the base of my tail.” They sort of knew that, but you wanted to double check.  

“Okay, thank you for telling me.”  

He did the shampoo and conditioner and was very gentle, and it was nice to have your tail pet like that. Usually, it was just your ears that got pet, so this was a nice change.  

“Okay, my dear, all done. Do you want to soak, or do you want out?”  

“Out.”  

He didn’t laugh at how quickly you replied and instead helped you stand up. The water dripped down your nude body and the air felt cooling on your skin, your nipples hardening. Asmo didn’t pay mind to that, either, and led you to stand on a rug. He put on a robe and tied it around his waist. You did see his mild erection, but right now you didn’t want to do any of that. Your head wasn’t in the right place, and thankfully your Masters were kind enough not to force you into doing things.  

Asmo was rifling through the closet for towels, picking at them and shaking his head, looking for a specific one obviously. “I have a nice fleece robe for you, and cozy slippers. Do you want me to blow dry your hair, or let it dry naturally?”  

You didn't like the sound of the blow dryer. “No dryer,” you said adamantly.  

He chuckled. “Got it, love.” He used a towel to dry over your body, and you let him, feeling pampered. The towel was so soft and fluffy. You purred, leaning into his touch. “Ugh, you are the most precious little thing ever,” he cooed, kissing at your cheek. Then he grabbed a bathrobe, pink and fluffy, and put it around you loosely.  

“No underwear?” you asked with a frown.  

“Do you want some?” he asked back.  

You pursed your lips, and swished your tail back and forth. The robe was snug and felt soft on your body, so no, you actually didn’t want underwear.  

“No thank you.”  

He nodded. “We have to put cream on your bum anyway, so come this way,” he held out his hand, and took you to his bedroom and had you lay on the bed on your belly. He left for a quick second, and then he was back and lifted the robe up and spread your cheeks open with one of his hands, your puckered hole tensing from the cool air.  

“Master...”  

He hummed, and a cold finger glopped with something rubbed over your hole, dipping inside just so in order to curl and rub. He did this for a few seconds and then his finger was gone. “Good, that’ll help you feel better.”  

You turned your head, and then decided to just roll over on your back. He came over to kiss your nose, and you swiped at his face with your tongue playfully, catching his chin. You felt warm and soft and floaty from the last hour of sex time and bathing, or it could have been longer or shorter, you were not totally sure.  

“Playful Kitten,” he teased. Then your stomach growled. He giggled. “Hungry Kitten, too. It is dinner time.”  

He frowned a second later, and sat on the bed next to you, grabbed his phone and started texting. You leaned over to see him messaging Beel for food. You whined. “Can I have sweets?”  

“After dinner, lovely. We can all have some cake that Barbatos made.”  

Your ears perked up. “Barb made cake?” your stomach growled louder, and your cheeks reddened.  

Asmo cooed. “He came by while we we’re in the bath to drop it off. I'm not sure why or what it was for, but it looks good. And Beel promised to save some for you.”  

There was a knock on the door, and Beel peeked in after Asmo gave the okay to come inside. He held a plate of food, steaming and aromatic. His eyes ran over you, and he seemed satisfited with what he saw and stepped in fully.  

“None for me?” Asmo blinked, but he had a small smile on his face.  

Beel frowned. “Sorry, I only brought food for Kitten.”  

Asmo sighed. “That’s okay, I've been watching my figure lately anyway.”  

Both your Master’s sat on either side of you, and took turns feeding you. It was nice. You leaned back against the soft pillows eventually and yawned.  

Beel’s large hand went to your head, and he smiled. “You should sleep now after eating all that food. Your stomach isn’t as big as mine.”  

You yawned again, and smiled sheepishly. “Yes, Master. Can I have a hug before bed?”  

Beel grinned. He held you to his chest, smoshing you perfectly. He smelled like warm spices, and his hugs were some of your favorite hugs out of all your Masters’ because he was so big—muscles, you meant, not fat. He did work out, and you also liked to lick his sweat from his pecs or neck.  

The red-headed demon kissed your forehead, humming. Then his lips pressed to your cheek, and slid over to your lips. You licked at them for a second, tasting him, but he didn’t let you in. That was okay, though.  

“You get hugs and kisses, little kitty. Always,” Beel said, and he pet your wet hair from your ears and smiled.  

Cheeks flushed, you reached up to peck his lips in one last kiss. “’night.”  

Beel took the plates and turned at the door to smile at you, “Good night, Kitten. Sweet dreams.” He shut the door as he left.  

Asmo wiggled on the bed and whined. “My turn for kisses now!”  

You laughed. “Yes, Master,” you leaned over and gave him several kisses on his soft lips, and one on his nose, your fangs grazing ever so slightly.  

“Kitty has such a lovely mouth,” he sighed.  

You yawned, and reached for him. “Cuddle me?”  

He did not hesitate. “How can I resist that face?”  

He curled himself around you, his fingers went to your bare belly to rub circles, and it soothed your full stomach. His hair was wet at the ends and dripped on you, but you didn’t care. This was exactly where you wanted to be.  

“Sleep tight, lovely,” Asmo whispered in your ear, right as you shut your eyes to enter dreamland.  

[metaphorical-love-for-a-car]

Godfathers-- Crowley x Aziraphale x Reader (part two)

Request; “Could I get a plantonic X Reader where the reader is pregnant (with a ex-boyfriend’s baby) and Aziraphale and Crowley are very protective of them and the reader unexpectly goes into labor at Azzy’s shop and Crowley attempts to drive everyone to to hospital. And I say attempt as Reader ends up giving birth in Crowley’s car due to traffic.” (anon)

Warnings; none! :)

Word Count; 2.4k

Notes; the wait is finally over! sorry it’s taken me so long to post lol ALSO sorry if it’s not very accurate? i don't know anything about pregnancy, I just know what google tells me lol

"Crowley, are you sure? I really don't want to be a bother," you mumbled. He scoffed and shook his head. He tucked one of the bags he was holding under his arm, allowing himself to better talk with his hand.

"You'll only be a bother if you trash the place. Or be nice to my plants." Crowley paused. He pointed at you before giving you a stern look. "Don't be nice to them. They don't deserve it." You snorted, assuming he was joking. He opened the door to his apartment and motioned you in. You followed him inside, marveling at the place. Everything was spic and span, totally immaculate.

"Beautiful place you've got," you complimented. The tiniest smile crossed Crowley's lips.

His apartment didn't obey the normal laws of physics. It was a bit like the Tardis. The inside made the outside look unbelievable. Crowley was able to change bits of it as he pleased. In this case, he was able to add on an extra bedroom just for you. He set the bags he was carrying on the foot of the bed, glancing around the room before nodding in approval. He always considered himself good at interior design, though he'd never tell anyone that. "A friend of mine is bringing some dinner by. I just ordered some takeout, hope you don't mind." When you shook your head, he continued, "Good. Now, the entire place is soundproofed, so you can vent... or scream... or cry... or whatever it is people do after a heartbreak."

"Thank you, Crowley. I really appreciate it." He nodded and sauntered out of the room, leaving you to unpack your belongings.

You were changing into some more comfortable clothes when you heard muffled voices from the other side of the bedroom door. The rational, mature part of your mind told you that it would be rude to eavesdrop, but the curious, monkey side of your brain kept chanting about how you should listen in. It's not difficult to understand which side won. You pressed your ear against the door, straining to catch some of their conversation.

"...doing is nice, Crowley."

"Oh, shut up."

"You know, if you could whip up a whole new room, you could have miricaled a couch. Or at least another chair or two." Your brows furrowed. Miracles?

"Well, I wasn't thinking about that, Aziraphale. I've never had someone else stay here before!"

"Lucky for you, I have an idea since it'd be too obvious to add any new furniture at this point... Bean bags!"

"No. Absolutely not. I will not allow those abominations in my flat." You bit your lip to keep yourself from laughing. As much as you wanted to stay in hiding and hear where the conversation would go next, your stomach's demonstration of whale noises reminded you that that was not an option. You slowly pulled the door open, poking your head out and glancing around. Crowley had his back to you, but the newcomer caught sight of you from over Crowley's shoulder. He flashed you a bright smile. At the time, you didn't know him very well, but you recognized him from his occasional visits to Crowley's. His fluffy hair and out of date clothing choices made him hard to forget.

"Hello, my dear. It's wonderful to see you, though I wish it were under better circumstances," Aziraphale hummed as he approached you. He pulled you into an embrace. Normally, you wouldn't want a person you hardly knew to touch you, but Aziraphale was like a ball of sunshine. He was incredibly comforting, something which you desperately needed at the moment. "Come along, let's get you something to eat before the food gets cold!"

The three of you divvied out the takeout. Crowley led you into what you assumed was his office slash living room, which hardly had any furniture in it at all. You and Aziraphale plopped onto two beanbags, and Crowley sprawled across a chair that looked more like a throne. He turned on the television, and Aziraphale raised a brow at him when Golden Girls came across the screen. "Again? My boy, how many times have you watched this series?" Crowley threw his arms up dramatically.

"It's not like I choose it every time! The TV has a mind of its own. And besides, it's a good show."

"You can't use that excuse for everything, Crowley. You're starting to turn into the boy who cried wolf." The red-head scoffed at the notion.

"Please, Aziraphale," he scoffed before turning to look at you, "What do you think about Golden Girls?"

"I've heard the name, but I've never actually seen it before." Crowley's eyebrows shot up as his posture went rigid.

"Never? Here I was, thinking you were a person of sensible taste. This must be fixed immediately." He pressed a button on the remote, flipping through the channels until he found one playing the very first episode. Aziraphale sighed and sank further into the bean bag chair. He shoveled the yellow rice into his mouth as Crowley animatedly explained to you the wonderful show that is Golden Girls.

At first, the plan was to stay at Crowley's until you were able to get back on your feet and find a place of your own. But with only a part-time job and a child on the way, you weren't sure how you were going to afford it. Aziraphale could sense your growing anxiety and suggested you stay with one of them until you felt ready to move out. You gladly accepted the invitation, having grown close to them since you first moved in. The three of you had spent many nights drinking non-alcoholic beverages and binging Golden Girls, and you always enjoyed popping into Aziraphale's bookshop. It took a lot of convincing, but you finally managed to get him to help you organize the mess of books that were piled around. The more time you spent around them, the more you realized that they weren't so human. I mean, they weren't exactly hiding it. It's a miracle more people didn't put it together.

Aziraphale thought it would be a good idea to check up on Adam. They couldn't just leave him completely alone, him being the anti-christ and all. So the three of you piled into the Bentley and made your way to Tadfield. You and your rather large belly took up a majority of the backseat. Traffic was terrible, as usual, but you made it through with the help of one of your favorite snacks at the moment-- a sauerkraut sandwich. Just two pieces of bread with sauerkraut in between. It grossed out Aziraphale and Crowley, but they knew better than to face the wrath of a pregnant person... especially after they saw how your emotions constantly changed. One moment you were crying over not being able to open a pickle jar by yourself, and the next you were screaming at your phone for charging too slow. Needless to say, they were afraid of being the target of your mood swings.

Crowley led the way through Hogback Wood, while you and Aziraphale walked arm-in-arm behind him. "Please be careful with our lunch, dear." The angel grimaced every time the wicker basket was swung.

"Calm down, Aziraphale. Nothings going to happen to the food," Crowley groaned, "Their hideout is right down here. They'll probably be playing with prop swords or whatnot." You could hear the group of children shouting. Sure enough, they came into view and were swinging long sticks at each other. A boy with brown, curly locked pointed his stick toward you all.

"Halt! Who goes there?"

"Sir Crowley Hellion, accompanied by Lord Aziraphale Inamorato. We brought along our guest, the kind (Y/F/N)." The demon and angel bowed, playing along with the game. You, on the other hand, were too hot and had too big of a belly to be doing such. Instead, you just waved at them. The rest of the group of children appeared, all eyeing the three of you suspiciously.

"What's in the basket?" a boy with dirt all over his face asked. Crowley held up the basket in question, raising a brow.

"Sandwiches."

"For all of us?"

"Yup."

"Did they make 'em?" He pointed his stick towards you. Aziraphale shook his head.

"No, I did." All of the children seemed relieved by this.

"Good. I heard pregnant people like to eat weird stuff on their sandwiches." They all gathered around Crowley as he handed one to each of them.

"You're telling me," he muttered under his breath. Which, thanks so your pregnant superhuman capabilities, didn't escape your hearing.

"Sorry, Crowley, what was that?" The demon froze like a deer caught in headlights. He stuttered for a moment, trying to come up with something clever and not insulting to say. You laughed and pat him on the shoulder. "Calm down! I'm just teasing. Now, hand me one of those sandwiches so I can go sit down. My back is killing me."

Everyone gathered near their fort and ate lunch. You were beginning to have stomach pains, but you blamed it on the sauerkraut combined with all the walking you did. The Them, as you learned they were called, explained the game they were playing. Adam was playing as Henry VIII, Brian and Wensleydale were guards, and Pepper was one of his many wives to be beheaded. The twist? She fought back, not wanting to come to her untimely end just because she was unable to bear a son. "So, what're you having?" Pepper asked.

"A girl," you answered fondly. Three of the Them smiled and congratulated you, but Adam leaned back and sighed.

"Sorry, guess that means you'll have to be beheaded." The children all started giggling, and Crowley snorted. You grimaced, putting a hand on your stomach. Aziraphale watched you worriedly. He placed a gentle hand on your arm.

"Are you alright?" Adam's brows knit together.

"I was just joking. We're not really beheading you." You waved him off.

"Don't worry about it, love. Just having a spell of contractions is all." Crowley leaned forward. Worry filled his features.

"Is the baby coming? Already? Should we leave?" You laughed before grimacing again.

"No, I don't think she's coming yet. I'm not due for another three weeks. But I think it probably is a good idea to head back."

The two helped you back to the Bentley, with the Them trailing behind out of curiosity. Thankfully, you didn't have to walk terribly far. Crowley had managed to park nearby just in case of a moment like this. You all piled into the car and waved the children goodbye. Crowley peeled out of  Tadfield, causing Aziraphale to look even more concerned. As you got closer to London, the traffic worsened and so did your contractions. The three of you were sitting in a standstill, and you were groaning in pain in the backseat.

"You know, we've got car parks everywhere... McDonald's, supermarkets, stadiums... the fucking M25!" Crowley screeched, gripping the steering wheel and shaking himself back and forth.

"Crowley! Your screaming is not helping!" Aziraphale huffed.

"Could the both of you please shut up so I can focus on not imploding?" Concern settled deeper into Aziraphale's features, and a hiss escaped Crowley's lips.

"I think we're running out of time," the angel whispered. "We need a miracle." Crowley gave him a look, and Aziraphale nodded. The demon sighed, taking the angel's hand in his own. Reality seemed to warble around the Bentley, which caused you to feel even worse. You ended up hurling, and Crowley let out a string of swears at the sight. "Look! We're at the hospital. Let's get them taken care of before we worry about a perfectly cleanable mess, hm?"

"Fine, but you better be naming this kid after me for all I've been through!"

The two helped you inside to get taken care of, and they were with you for every step of the way. Several hours later, you held your daughter in your arms. She clutched onto Aziraphale's finger, causing him to smile wider than you had ever seen before. Crowley stood behind the angel, trying to look like he wasn't paying much attention and clearly failing. You offered to let him hold the baby, and he accepted without a moment of hesitation. As you watched him carefully cradle the little girl in his arms, you figured this would be the perfect moment to propose the idea you've been harboring for the past month. "I've been thinking about how much you guys have helped me. I don't know where I would be if it wasn't for you two. So, I was wondering if maybe the both of you would like to make our little family official by being the godfathers?" Aziraphale gasped, eyes widening. He excitedly looked to Crowley.

"Oh, my dear! Did you hear that? Us... godfathers!" Crowley didn't reply. He just froze for a moment. A tinge of worry went through you. You didn't even consider the possibility of him not wanting to be a godfather. You and Aziraphale shared a look before continuing to stare at Crowley.

"Ngk," he sniffled, "don't look at me. Here, angel, take the kid." Crowley passed the baby off to Aziraphale before furiously rubbing his eyes. You sat up a little more.

"Are you... crying!"

"No!" he said with a defensive hiss. "Okay, maybe I am... just a little... You seriously want me to be a godfather? I can understand him. He's a literal angel, but I'm a demon why would you want me?" You sighed, leaning back into the pillows.

"Crowley, you were the one who was there for me when I needed someone, and you were the one who took me in when I had nowhere to go. Of course, I want you to be my daughter's godfather. I couldn't think of anyone else."

The demon sniffled for a few more minutes before finally composing himself. He watched the infant be placed in the bassinette and smiled. A true, genuine smile. Crowley gently touched the baby's cheek, leaning closer. "Don't worry. I'll try to be a good godfather. If it's the last thing I do, I'll make sure you have a good life, okay?"

~*~*~

Godfathers Tag List; (might be missing some, there was a lot of you lmao)

@justcallmecinammon​

@sdavid09​ 

@lokis-sunshine​

@spookyconsultingcriminal​

@dabbingintoart​

@sirkekselord

@strangerthings14

Good Omens Tag List;

@kawaiiusagichansan

@fatbottomedboi 

@godhateskyleigh

@drhughgrection

@popbubblegumpop

@shirukitsune

@slithredn

@dabbingintoart

@groupies-do-it-better

Permanent Tag List;

@blitchen

@blitchen-fics

[positivelyominous]

Oxfordshire - 2008 AD (Again)

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Azruba’al stumbled hastily out of the cab and tugged nervously at his bowtie. To remove at least a little complication from the evening, he had assumed the form he’d first met the current generation of Sisters in. Cutting around the back of St. Beryl’s Church, Azruba’al jogged to the rear entrance, clutching the picnic basket tightly in his arms. There was a man sitting on the little terrace there, next to the dustbins, smoking a pipe and looking troubled. He glanced up at Azruba’al as he approached and made to greet him.

“Er, hullo–“

“So sorry, can’t stop to chat, very late.”

The man next to the dustbins watched the other man’s form disappear into the building. He let out a small, helpless puff of smoke. First the unexpected contractions, then the oddly behaving staff, and now some strange fellow in a big coat rushing through the back doors with a picnic basket. Mr. Young had liked the look of the hospital when he’d brought his wife inside; it was clean and modern -but not too modern- and the presence of the nuns gave it a warm, serene feeling. But now he was wondering if everything was all right after all…

⧗

“Blast that stupid machine,” Azruba’al snarled under his breath, striding through the empty hallway, “Half an hour late, I am half an hour late! Please don’t have started without– well, they wouldn’t, would they? I mean they couldn’–“

He was so lost in his own thoughts that he nearly ran right into a black-robed figure coming around the corner.

“Oh! Good grievance, I–“

“Master Azruba’al! You’ve come at last!”

The demon in question straightened up, a look of relief brightening his pudgy features.

“It’s so nice to see you again,” said the nun, who was known amongst her Sisters as Mary Loquacious*, and was preparing to live up to her name, “I was barely out of Sunday school the first time– Hell’s teeth, you haven’t aged a bit! I–“

“Yes, yes, it’s lovely to see you again too, dear girl,” Azruba’al interrupted, quickly. He knew what would happen if he let her pick up steam, “I am rather late, I believe?”

“Oh yes, forty-six minutes and twenty-six seconds exactly,” Mary replied, with a cursory glance at the watch pinned to her breast.

Azruba’al scowled, “Right, you’d best be quick about it, then.”

He pressed the basket into Mary’s arms, “Here he is. Get him to the Cultural Attaché as quick as you can.”

“Oh my star– this– it’s him? The Adversary? Destroyer of Kings? Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is Called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan and Lord of Dark–“

“Hell’s sake, yes! Yes, it’s him, now hop along, there’s a good girl,” cried Azruba’al, nearly pushing the woman back around the corner, “We don’t want him to be forty-seven minutes late, do we?”

“Of course not, Master Azruba’al,” said Mary Loquacious, lifting one of the lids of the basket to peek at the Long String of Epithets That We Shall Hence Refer To As The Adversary, “Ohh, look at him! He’s got his daddy’s complexion!”

“They’re all like that at first,” said Azruba’al absentmindedly.

“No horns, though,” she remarked.

“I’m leaving, now,” said Azruba’al, letting go of the woman’s shoulders.

“Too young for fangs, and– oh! Yes, Satan keep you! Good night!”

Azruba’al was gone before she’d finished speaking. Mary gave a little shiver of excitement and bustled quickly down the hall. She could hardly believe it. Here she was, Sister Mary Loquacious-You’d-Best-Not-Get-It-Wrong-Again, cradling The Adversary. For all her years as a Satanist -which were indeed all of them, having been born into the faith- she’d never imagined that she would be at the thick of their greatest hour. No more tea-and-cookies duty for her. Speaking of, she’d meant to take a tin to the American Cultural Attaché…

“There you are!”

Sister Mary’s thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of a very flustered Sister Grace Voluble.

“They’re getting antsy in there, they think something’s wrong! Have you got the– oh, for Hell’s sake, Mary, just a tin! They don’t need a whole picnic!”

Mary glanced down in confusion before puffing up a little, smugly, “I don’t have cookies. I don’t have a picnic, either. What I’ve got is the One We’ve All Been Waiting For, The Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of––“

“Oh, thank the Fallen One,” interrupted Sister Grace, making to snatch the basket out of Mary’s hands.

Mary drew away, indignantly, “Master Azruba’al has entrusted me with the Child.”

Sister Grace looked as if she was about to argue, before thinking better of it.

“Well you had best get him to the nursery and tag him so we can deliver him to his ‘parents’. We can’t pretend to be weighing them forever.”

Mary nodded primly and marched towards the nursery.

There is a game teachers use to explain probability to their pupils. Each child receives a chart and a bag with a variable amount of red and blue tokens inside. They are instructed to remove a single token from the bag without looking, note its colour on the chart, then put it back in and repeat to their hearts content†. The point of the exercise is to show that the probability of drawing a red token or a blue token changes depending on how many of each token there are. For example, if there were two blue tokens, and one red token, it would be less likely to draw out the red token without looking. It would be even less likely, say, if someone painted the red token blue by mistake. Even if you were looking straight at the tokens, you wouldn’t be able to tell them apart.

There were three rosy-pink babies in three blue swaths resting in three hospital bassinets. Sister Mary had just wheeled in the last one, the most important one, and was heading towards the worktable for a pen and a tag. At that moment, another Sister entered.

“Mary! What are you doing in– oh! That’s all three, thank Bowels, we can finally send them off!”

Before Mary could protest that she hadn’t tagged the Adversary yet, and what if he got misplaced, the newly arrived Sister was chivying her out of the room, insisting she get those biscuits.

Mary let out a deep, disappointed sigh as the nursery door slammed behind her. Well. At least she’d get to meet the Cultural Attaché.

⧗

Mr. Young had returned to room three by this time. He found his wife asleep, and no baby to speak of. Luckily, a nearby nun explained that the child had been taken away to be examined, and Mr. Young decided it best to retire to his wife’s side in case she woke up and panicked in the interim. By the time his son was finished being ‘examined’ and was delivered into the grateful arms of a flustered Mrs. Young, Mr. Young felt as if he’d been there for an eternity. And it was about to get longer.

“Hello! Oh, your Lady wife’s awake, then, good!”

Another nun was bustling into the room, bringing with her a tin and the air of someone who was about to sit down for a long, enthusiastic chat.

⧗

Harriet Dowling was laying in a cot in room four, surrounded by a complement of six security men in imposing black uniforms. One of them was carrying the latest and greatest in videotelephone technology, through which Harriet was meant to see her husband, the American Cultural Attaché. Thaddeus Dowling was technically on the line. He just wasn’t there visually. Spiritually, he was sandwiched next to his wife with a cool cloth and a strong hand to squeeze. Physically, he was on a business trip.

It was Sister Faith Prolix who was the first to congratulate Harriet, and, coincidentally, the first to suggest a name for the baby now cradled comfortably in his mothers arms.

Wormwood was a bit unconventional, yes, but the kindly Sister Faith was ever so convincing. Besides, Harriet didn’t much feel like naming the child ‘Thaddeus’ at that point.

⧗

The demon Azruba’al hurried through the night, too distracted to even think of calling another cab. He needed to make an urgent phonecall. A phonecall his people wouldn’t be too pleased about, but hopefully one they’d never discover.

⧗

There was a third baby. It didn’t have a tag, and presumably, didn’t need one.

Sister Constance Pleonastic had it in the backseat of the church’s old station wagon, driving it down the darkened midnight road. There were only two families, after all.

“I really can’t believe it’s finally come,” she prattled on to herself, faithfully upholding her convent’s chiefest tradition, “What a time to be alive. My grandmother would have killed to be in my place… if those Warrens hadn’t got her first.”

There was an orphanage in the nearby town. There was also a lake. The baby in the backseat was growing fussy. It could feel that something was wrong, somehow. This was not the same dark, rumbling thing it had been in before, and the endless, droning voice did not belong to the gentle hands that had wrapped it in soft blue.

It wasn’t quite ready to be the The Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is Called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan and Lord of Darkness. It wouldn’t be for another eleven years. It did, however, possess something of a defence mechanism to ensure that it at least had a chance of getting there.

And so it was that at that moment precisely, a large black cat came padding out of the bushes on the side of the road and into Sister Constance’s headlights.

The cat yowled. The station wagon swerved.

GOOD EVENING, SISTER CONSTANCE, said Death, helping a very dazed Sister Constance Pleonastic up from her body, I AM SURE YOU ARE VERY DISAPPOINTED. BUT TAKE HEART THAT YOU WILL STILL HAVE A SEAT TO THE FINAL SPECTACLE, EVEN IF IT IS LOWER THAN THE ONE YOU HAD PREVIOUSLY.

After sending the unfortunate woman on her way, Death was preparing to leave for his next appointment when something else at the scene caught his attention. Not a death; those were a constant everywhere you went. Creatures big and small; something was always dying. No, this thing was quite unorthodox, as it existed in the living world. There was wailing from the backseat of the ruined car. A wailing that Death would have ignored, had it not come from this particular source.

Death knelt in the wreckage, gently pushed aside the cushion of airbags, and lifted a blue bundle into his arms.

I DID NOT EXPECT US TO MEET SO SOON, he said, thoughtfully, as the child immediately quieted in his embrace, BUT I SUPPOSE IT IS NOT AGAINST THE RULES. I HAVE YET TO RIDE. AND YOU HAVE YET TO CALL ME.

Even still, the child needed protection. It needed a home.

Without another word, Death drew a pitch-black wing of oblivion over the infant, and the both of them disappeared, leaving nothing behind but the smouldering wreck.

———————————————————————————————————

*It was called a Chattering Order for a reason. To explain it properly, however, one would have to do the authorial equivalent of joining up. Hopefully, the name says it all.

†Certain hearts grow content faster than others.

[heelmaryse]

The signs + their ideal date w/ a wwe superstar

Aries: hiking with becky lynch. she thinks it's cute when your hiking boots don't fit and helps you put them on. she laughs when you slip in mud and finds it adorable when you grumble. you love her puns but pretend like they annoy you. becky is in charge of food, and she brings a picnic basket. 10/10

Taurus: watching scary movies with braun strowman. he wants to protect you from the scary ghosts in the movies, but he lowkey gets kind of scared himself. you guys also make homemade popcorn and homemade pizza and homemade banana bread and it's literally a great night in.

Gemini: kalisto takes you out clubbing. i'm so sorry. he is very selfish and mean. but you guys end up sleeping together on the first date. now you're pregnant with his child. i am so sorry. you end up having five masked luchador babies. this is your life now. sorry.

Cancer: roman reigns takes you rock climbing. but he decides to show off with how fast he can climb the rocks. he ends up slipping and spraining his ankle. he is sad. you kiss his ankle to make him feel better. he lowkey thinks you are creepy for doing that. he still asks you out for a 2nd date.

Leo: nikki bella invites you to her house for a private pool party. but she warns you the pool is haunted by the lochness monster. you scoff and jump in anyways. the monster gets you and you are on the brink of death. nikki saves you and performs cpr. a happy ending. 10/10

Virgo: seth rollins takes you to the arcade. you beat him at a game which makes him pouty and grouchy. he pours a milkshake over your head. you are sad. he licks the milkshake off of you. you are now grossed out yet weirdly turned on. you guys go back to his place. things get freaky.

Libra: you are star-gazing with finn balor. he wants to tell you his deepest darkest secret. he tells you he actually hates legos. you gasp in horror. he then turns into a legit demon and eats you. you are now dead. this date did not go how you planned at all. i am sorry.

Scorpio: a coffee date with sami zayn. but wait! it's actually kevin owens in a sami zayn mask. he reveals himself and you are scared at first. but then he tells you a funny joke and you laugh and now you like him. he gives you a marshmallow bracelet. very nice. 10/10

Sagittarius: sasha banks takes you with her to walk her dog. the dog does not like you. it attacks you when sasha is not looking and then makes it seem like you attacked him. sasha has a to make an important decision - you or the dog. she picks the dog and leaves you stranded.

Capricorn: late night drives with dean ambrose. except the car breaks down so it's basically just 'late night drive without the actual driving'. you turn around to see that you are not alone. kalisto is in the backseat. dean starts talking to kalisto. you are left out. i am so sorry.

Aquarius: james ellsworth takes you to the beach. you guys go swimming and he makes you fasten the floaties around his arms. halfway through doing this you realise you can do better. you tell ellsworth to run along into the water. then you leave. good riddance. you escaped him.

Pisces: enzo amore takes you out for pizza. he picks the pepperoni off the pizza and feeds it to you. everything is going great. then big cass comes and kicks enzo. enzo's face goes flying into the pizza. you kick big cass and drive enzo home. he smells like pizza - which is a good thing.

[everysongineverykey]

i know i just said how much i love that crowley and aziraphale genuinely aren't fatherly or good at parenting but it just occurred to me how it actually makes sense. they've never been children. of course they'd be awkward interacting with them. human adults can at least remember what it was like for them growing up and sympathize a little, but crowley and aziraphale came into existence with all the mental and emotional development of adults in their thirties. of course they think they can just teach the actual antichrist to be normal and reject his powers simply by tossing him back and forth between them! they've never experienced teenagerhood! neither have any of their colleagues! in a way, the demons have something like teenagerhood in the form of questioning god (the closest thing they have to a parental figure) and being forced to forge their own paths after being cast out on their own and developing minds of their own, but it's still not really comparable- most teenage coming-of-age stories don't involve great wars, after all.

god. the way crowley is very protective of children in concept- job's kids, being appalled at god drowning children at the ark- but when they're put under his care, it's clear he doesn't really know what to do with them. he'll save job's children, but he has no qualms about destroying their house and turning them into newts with little to no explanation while he does it. he'll be a doting nanny to warlock, but he won't hesitate to hiss at him when he feels it's necessary. he'll deliver the baby antichrist to the hospital if he has to, but he'll put the basket in the backseat of his car untethered and let it slide around while he does ninety miles per hour down unlit country roads at night, because baby be damned, it's his car. and aziraphale! watches crowley turn kids into newts and doesn't turn them back, even though he just turned the goats back a scene ago! just gives crowley a stern talking-to! purses his lips and nods silently when crowley says "not the kids. you can't kill kids"! suggests killing the antichrist child to the angels when it gets bad, even though just an episode ago he was acting shocked at crowley for suggesting it! cares about children as he cares about people in general, but he can't pretend he understands how they're different from adult humans. he doesn't really! neither of them do! they've never been children!!!