#Aziraphale and Crowley invented on again off again

[oatmealaddiction]

No but the thing about the Magic Show is that it's happening right in the middle of their fight about the Holy Water. Like Aziraphale telling Crowley how kind he is and being nothing but giddy with affection, and Crowley showing up to help him, supporting him the entire time even when the magic show is absolute shit, not supplying even a little sarcastic comment—it's like honeymoon behavior and they're in the middle of a fight that isn't going to resolve for another 20 years. Like at first it almost feels anachronistic, like Neil forgot, but he clearly didn't because he remembers to have Crowley be punished by hell the episode prior, which actually sets up the fight about the holy water.

So really what we're learning is that this is how shit they are at conflict management. Like the codependency is so bad that their reaction to a fight is to flash cold and then hot. They don't talk to each other for 80 years, and then meet up again and act like nothing is wrong and shower each other with affection until the conflict comes up again and they go cold. It's pretty clear when Aziraphale shows up to deliver the water in the 1960's that this is coming off another cold period, because SURPRISE that initial fight in 1862 wasn't ever actually resolved and even when Aziraphale hands over the water in 1967 it still isn't really resolved. It mirrors what's happening in Season 2 because it's clear they start the season in the middle of another fight, then they flash hot again while they're working together to help Gabriel, only for Gabriel and Beelzebub getting together to trigger the most explosive fight they've ever had, AND STILL they cannot figure out how to tell the other what they need to hear.

[aziraphales-library]

Hi, i hope you don't get asked this too much, but could you recommend some established relationship fics? canon or au is fine, but not kid fic, if that's possible. Thank you.

Hey. We have an #established relationship tag you can check out. Here are some more to add to the collection...

Where the Cliffs Meet the Sky by springofviolets (M)

Crowley plans a meaningful, romantic anniversary trip to celebrate 1 year of being openly in a relationship with Aziraphale, but things keep going wrong! How will our hero cope? A South Downs Cottage origins story.

One Hundred Days by Lady of Prompts (G)

They should have discussed it more. Wasn’t that what humans did? Spend weeks and months talking about what sort of home they want, what sort of life, dreaming of what moving in together will be like. Making sure their dreams matched up, their expectations. They didn’t buy cottages – in the middle of a forest, no less, half a mile from the nearest village – without considering questions of…of hobbies, and use of space and…and living arrangements. They certainly didn’t take such a step without…defining their relationships. -- Aziraphale only begins to consider the implications of *moving in together* after they've already done it.

Hozier Missed A Trick When He Called It 'Real People' Instead Of 'Joe Bloggs Snogs' by indieninja92 (E)

Months after Armageddoff, Crowley and Aziraphale enjoy a cosy night in. A brief moment of anxiety about a completely invented turn of events sends them off on a rambly, giggling conversation that asks, if they were human, what kinds of humans would they be? Very silly ones, it's safe to say.

Five Times They Weren't Very Sexy and One Time They Aced It by ZehWulf (E)

“Have you ever wondered what it feels like?” Crowley asks while contemplating the dregs at the bottom of his wine glass. He’s aiming for philosophical but fears the faint wheeze at the end of the question might have given him away. “Have I ever wondered what ‘what’ feels like,” Aziraphale asks finally. “Sex,” he says, much louder than intended or reasonable. They both wince.  “Oh, have you never…?” Aziraphale asks with polite disbelief. “You have?” Crowley demands. Look, when you're largely inexperienced sex-favorable asexual ineffables, it takes a bit of practice, a lot of communication, and some bull-headed persistence to get your sex life in commendable working order. Or, five times things got (hilariously) awkward during sex, and one time after they've got it mostly figured out. A companion fic to "Scratching That Itch." (Sex acts, such as they are, tagged per chapter in chapter notes!)

a moment's silence by viperinz (T)

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

we shall have the world forever for our own by quitequaintrelle (M)

Your new beginning starts here! Lying wholly within the South Downs National Park, the village of Wood’s Bottom is your destination for an idyllic retirement. This quaint hamlet is a short five miles away from the seaside resort of Brighton, with its vibrant array of shopping, culture, and leisure attractions. Boasting stunning landscape views, entirely average weather conditions, welcoming neighbours, and intimate rural charm, Wood’s Bottom is your opportunity to live the exceptionally normal and relaxing lifestyle you’ve always dreamed of. Aziraphale and Crowley have finally found their forever home after successfully ensuring there is still a “forever” to share. Surely they will integrate perfectly well amongst their new neighbours. Surely.

- Mod D

[crowleysgirl56]

IT’S FINALLY HERE SQUIRRELS!

OMG I’ve been biting my nails for weeks on how he is going to react. Already from the thumbnail we can guess that he is not happy and has reacted the exact same way as us.

So let’s dive into my highlights of his reactions. As always, under the cut to avoid spoilers. Here we go.

- Already from Danny’s opening monologue he’s guessed exactly how most of this episode will go in terms of plot beat and story structure. But it is clear he doesn’t know about the 90 minute finale.

- Love how Danny’s immediate response to Crowley’s heaven disguise is “You’ve only made him hotter!” Funnily enough he mentions “it looks like he invented whiskey”. Funny considering David Tennant did that add for whiskey…

- Danny is everyone when he heavily sighs when Maggie accidentally invites the demons in.

- Danny finally gets his payoff about the fly being the key.

- About Beelzebub and Gabriel. He so casually says “I kinda want them to fall in love and I’ll murder anyone who disagrees with me”. Yeah, well…at least ONE angel and demon couple got to do that and go off together! I also love how within 6 minutes he is 100% invested in their relationship.

- “David Forgettit. Azirawho”. HOW DARE YOU SIR!

- Good Omens fandom: deep dives into why no one recognises The Metatron when he’s in his corporal form. Danny when the Metatron enters the books shop: Who’s this guy? Is this God? Did they recast God?! (Crowley then says the last time he saw him he was a big floating head) Oh it’s Zordon! Proving that, yep, it is THAT simply to trick everyone, no deep dives necessary.

- Danny points out Muriel is holding the Crow Road, but then doesn’t try to deep dive into why that’s important. And yeah, if you didn’t know what that book is it doesn’t really mean anything, but looking back at that scene, it is framed so deliberately that it HAS to mean something.

- And now we finally get to it. Danny’s ENTIRE journey of reacting to the final fifteen. I could devote an entire post to everything that he says and does. The clutching of his chest and chair, the pleading of David Tennant to stop being such a great actor, his joy and heartbreak and yelling of “THEY KISSING!”, the depths of despair of wanting to start up smoking, to getting really drunk even though it’s 11am, and to becoming addicted to cocaine. WE. ARE. ALL. STILL. THERE. MY FRIEND!

- It’s funny how Danny went from being such an advocate for Aziraphale this entire time to just holding his head in his hands exclaiming “what the fuck I can’t even, I can’t even, why would you do that?” right at the very end.

Danny’s whole reaction is interesting in that it’s such an immediate reaction, he doesn’t have the luxury like us who have spent the last year and a bit overanalysing everything with a fine tooth comb. Because it’s almost like, maybe that is how we should be reacting? Love to hear everyone’s thoughts on this and his reaction.

And that’s the end. Hopefully he will react to the final 90 minutes once it’s released. What a journey. Now, I really feel like I need to rewatch the entire show over again.

[vidavalor]

You really think they've kissed before? I want to believe.

Dammit, Scully, the truth is out there! *rustles through file folders in the basement until uncovers the correct one and then flourishes it with an Aziraphale-ish "AH-HA!"* What about the other arrangement in The Arrangement scene in S1, perchance?

In The Globe Theatre scene, it is established that Crowley and Aziraphale each knew before the scene begins that they themselves are assigned to Edinburgh by their respective head offices later in the week but neither of them knew the other was until they learn from one another that they are during the course of the scene. As a result, triggering The Arrangement-- in the 'only one of them doing both of their work assignments' sense-- cannot have been why they were meeting up. We also learn early in the scene, though, that Crowley asked to meet without being specific as to why (which is an answer in and of itself, imo lol), other than to convey that it wasn't an emergency/they hadn't been caught because Aziraphale is relaxed and popping the food kinky Serpent of Eden's favorite fruit in front of him for the duration of the scene. So, Crowley asked to meet and Aziraphale picked the place-- this meeting is an *arrangement*-- but that is then subtly semi-hidden in the scene with some sleight of hand distraction that calls your attention to the revelation of the fact that they both can-- and sometimes do-- do each other's work. The scene about them doing each other's miracles is really also about them doing each other lol. Using past tense by using 'thought' in this bit of the scene though, Scully, kind of says a lot about the reason Crowley wanted to meet though, yeah?

Everyone so on about that 2.06 disaster that they've forgotten about the trailing-off-verbal-ellipsis-into-kissy-pout that is Crowley for Hell is sending me away for a few days so my first thought was that I want to see you and that I was willing to endure a few minutes of one of these depressing plays you like-- thank you for sparing me the first few acts with this meeting time, btw-- and show up with some love poetry and my glasses halfway down my nose and some big Bildaddy energy and see if I could flirt my way into your bed while you do that thing where you pretend to be scandalized by the thought while eating grapes in front of me because old movie chemistry, us, even though old movies haven't been invented yet so anyway, angel, what if I just pivot this straight into The Arrangement since you were hinting you'd be down for that by commenting on how my assignment didn't seem that difficult a moment ago and we'll see if the audience notices what the scene is inferring that it's implying by the fact that when you look at me, I pout at you *again* while suggesting only one of us goes to Scotland, furthering suspicions that The Arrangement isn't just about inventing occult/ethereal weekends for each other but that it's a sex game where whoever goes and does both of our work assignments gets to be the one to choose whatever they want in bed from the one of us who had the day off which is also why, instead of taking turns as we would if this were just about the miracles, we flip a coin because I live to cheat on the coin toss because anything you want, angel...

[alecscudder1987]

ive just had a thought. see ive been joking as much as the next person about the ineffable beurocracy getting their shit together after 3 dates while it took aziraphale and crowley since literally before time was invented BUT it's quite literally just privilege.

you saw the shot where aziraphale grabs crowley's shoulder just after beelzebub and gabriel declare their love--this level of visibility is unprecedented, and something he and crowley have never been able to afford. while they (and we) might have softened to not-gabriel throughout the season, the second gabriel is gabriel again, he uses his position and leaddrship weight as archangel to fuck right off with his beloved. which, good for him.

but to aziraphale and crowley, this is fucking bonkers information. they spent their entire existences compromising on their relationship in order to not...be compromised. and gabriel just up and speed-runs dating the enemy because the worst consequence he faces is getting fired. gabriel and beelzebub never face consequences for their relationship, so of course it goes off without a hitch. no one looking over your shoulder because you're the guy looking over everyone's shoulder.

while im thankful they fucked off to alpha centuri so i don't ever have to see gabriel's smug face again, i do wonder if the "going off together" is really the good relationship A & C ought to model. if it's a happy foil to miserable wee morag and her girlfriend from the minisodes, it's still not what i believe crowley and aziraphale are going to do.

they've spent all of time becoming increasingly codependent, and while that's fun and all for a while, crowley and aziraphale really need their little human mundanities. going on walks. getting dinner. going for a drive to blow off steam. their path is getting distinctly more human-looking, and i think someday they're going to have to reckon with the idea of letting other people into their lives.

to bring it back to my first point, i've just been thinking about WHY crowley and aziraphale are Like That, when we've been presented with a new couple who most certainly isn't, and it made me think about it in terms of power. they have leverage, but they built it for themselves by learning everything about earth their superiors didn't know, getting a leg up anywhere they can. gabriel and beezlebub don't need a leg up. they have it. they're stepping on your chest and brushing dust from their costs as you try to climb past the first stone.

you could also look at it like queer versus straight relationships. queer relationships are often by circumstance somewhat secretive and full of codes and longing glances and not-talking-about-your-feelings BECAUSE it might get you into trouble. straight relationships often don't have this problem (though they might have others relating to other intersecting & marginalized identities) so they can get straight away into the declaring it part.

TL;DR beezlebub and gabriel got hitched immidiately while it took crowley and aziraphale all of time to kiss because the ineffable beaurocracy has about a million times more power and a billion times less consequences for getting caught about it than the ineffable husbands do.

[acatwithstockings]

Could you please, please tell me everything about the 1990's Good Omens (very bad) Movie script? you mentioned not being able to taIk about it because no one is interested (which I very much relate to, but in just basically anything Good Omens related) I was not there for when it was leaked, so I'd really like to know like... all of it (I promise I am so interested, and also very very obsessed with Good Omens. I'll absolutely be your captive audience.)

the only things I think I know are that Crowley's mean and has a nightclub, and Aziraphale has a museum(??). and it's in America??

You don't know how happy it just makes me to ramble on about that one. Could write a whole essay tbh (I try my best not to bc my spelling is atrocious pff ).

Only snagged it myself after a whole year of searching when it got put up on Dropbox for a few hours. Got taken down quickly again. Idk if it was bc of a copyright claim or if the owner took it down themselves bc it isn't supposed to be spread around due to said issues and they (not quite so cleverly) posted the Link on a post that would make it especially easy for the copyright holder to find it. At any rate, I Got really lucky in that regard. The copyright issues around this thing are fascinating in general and could make for a great study in regards to the flaws of that system.

As for the script contents... Well it's something.

Yes Crowley is mean, it would be wrong however to reduce that version of him to that. (I will try and point out why later). Yes he owns a nightclub, the aptly named hellfire on a hill (? Idk enough about british topography to know if that's a hint towards a real part of town or just bc the visual of it is cool ) in London. So It does not play in America and Aziraphale is working at the British museum. Canon explanation why they try everything and anything to not give back the artefacts they stole, I suppose. (That was a joke. In the script itself it isn't even as much as mentioned that our favorite angel has any interest in collecting anything, missed opportunity if you ask me)

In general the whole thing plays out extremely differently from the story we all love. And sadly lacks the Prattchian humor... For obvious reasons. It does have it's moments tho not many but they are there. ( "Crowley un-snakes" will never not be funny)

What follows is a lengthy summary which will have a bit of analysis and personal interpretation mixed into it . Bc who needs good struktur if you can do stream of consciousness? Am I right?

We begin with the protagonist Crowley in company of Aziraphale, who in this version sadly takes a bit of a backseat, playing checkers in Aziraphale's study. In this version they are color coded: with pure white clothing and hair and pure black clothing and hair. Crowley remarks that 'everything is going too well'. To which Aziraphale points out, that complaining seems to be a favorite past time of the demon. in this version he has a knack for putting down/dismissing Crowley on basis of being a demon (" Oh, isn't that just like a demon? Six-thousand years and all you do is complain") and it's part of his ark , kinda. Cohesion and following things through isn't exactly a strong suit here.

It looks like Aziraphale is about to win, however Crowley uses the cliché 'Lock over there' trick to cheat. In the following dialogue we learn that they have been playing one checkers match a week for the past six thousand years. So basically it's presumed they played their first match in Eden before checkers was even invented. (Then again the stage direction describes a painting depicting Crowley as green snake wearing sunglasses in Eden, so they just have been trend setters from the start) . They then set a date for their next match, Crowley makes his distaste for earth known, they meet Aziraphale's assistant Polly, who is very unimpressed by Crowley and then he is off not without causing some mischief with a stolen wallet.

Aziraphale gets a little scene where he is appraising a painting for its authenticity. He gets called 'bramy as a box of fruit bats' and tells the ones that brought the painting that if it were real, he'd know bc he would have seen the master paint it. The interesting thing here is that this scene essentially is there to show us, that despite not acknowledging Crowley's cheating or directly calling out the forgery and its purpose (to gain money), even calling it pretty, he knows what's going on he simply chooses to play/be aloof .

Next we get introduced to the nightclub. Nothing much happens here at first except that we get introduced to the Barstaff. Or well at least Tina (my love) the barman. As it seems Crowley is managing a successful business and outside of a little rant, calling people sheep and wanting bigger cocktail umbrellas, he genuinely seems to be competent in his leadership and friendly to his staff. Even knowing them by name .

Other notable staff members are Warren, I think he has one line and is the handyman/security of the nightclub and Marjorie who gets a few more lines and is part of the waitstaff. Who by the way are put in full body imp costumes bc of course the nightclub is themed after hell.

Crowley then contacts hell, where he ultimately gets told that Satan himself has a special task for him. And we get the first clue that Crowley, who so far has given us very cool very early 90's style Anti"hero' is scared shitless. Not just that, hell thinks he is a bit of a loser, not being impressed by his mission reports and all that.

We then get to the good old Hyde Park scene with a nearly drowned drake safed by Aziraphale's intervention and everything. What is interesting here however is, that Crowley is a full blown nihilist and Aziraphale just very over enthusiastically positive. Aziraphale saying a woman is doing something good by giving her ice cream to a child while Crowley points out that the ice had first been dropped to the ground and been liked by a dog. (Script!Aziraphale as much as I love you but I am with script! Crowley on this one). Aziraphale points out that that hardly matters because the child is happy and that makes it a good deed. Crowley snarkily retorts that happiness is a stupid metric for good things and says he likes one thing about humans : that they are reliable in doing the selfish bad thing.

Aziraphale then tries to get Crowley to reveal why things are going to well. Crowley points out that they are enemies and he shouldn't give out that information despite the arrangement (sadly we don't get more information about that but I would love to know how it looked in that universe) and only is convinced by Aziraphale being hurt about it and giving him sad puppy eyes. Crowley then invites Aziraphale over to his nightclub after hours to talk about what head office actually wants from him.

We then jump to the nightclub again. Crowley is surprisingly decent towards people, Tina is managing the club and all seems rather nice. Madam Tracy is making an entrance. In this version she is an slowly aging out of it IT-girl. It's implied that she had a multitude of affairs and that she has now been payed off big time. (I enjoy Madam Tracy in this version a LOT). She never seems to be quite there but still owns any situation.

Her and Crowley have a little conversation that gets broken up when he decides to deal with a Troublemaker at the bar instead of letting Warren take care of it. (Side note that part of the script gave me the HC that script! Crowley is very short, definitely shorter than script!Aziraphale don't ask me why) . He is having a full blown Anime protagonist moment, including using the bribe the trouble maker gives him to give to the Waitress the Troublemaker had harassed in a very cool™ manner and stopping a punch with one hand. Just believe me it's very anime. But again Crowley seems to be actual decent boss, believe it or not.

He then gets a Call in the bathroom . Satan talking to him through the mirror without prior notice. He orders Crowley to get to a graveyard within 30 minutes. Crowley is keeping it together but he is panicking. He is having a short conversation with Tracy again in which he stays relatively friendly surprisingly enough.

Fun fact this whole film would have had "Every day' as musical theme. Bc from this moment the song gets mentioned continuously.

After speeding and vandalizing a cop car out of desperation since he is late and they determined to stop him, we get to meet satan. In this version he is a cold calculating (but very cool) business man . Crowley, in German we'd say 'legt sich erstmal ordentlich auf's maul' (meaning he trips and falls on the ground). He is groveling before him, bootlicking and trying to appease his Master (for real tho if that movie would have been made there would have been Satan/Crowley shippers bc that shit is some fuel for a toxic ship). At any rate Crowley is making a bit of a fool of himself and Satan is enjoying the Powertrip. In the end he gives Crowley the antichrist with the task to raise the baby or else suffer worse than anyone else in hell. However if he succeedes he is getting to leave the planet (again he supposedly doesn't even like earth in this version)

Anathema is introduced. She is just a little occult girl that felt the antichrist coming to earth. No mentioning of prophecies or anything. Our beloved Agnes does not exist in this universe. Just a little girl with green eyes and a sense for the occult.

Now with a baby he is supposed to take care of, Crowley makes his way back to the nightclub. There he hides the newborn from his employees and gets pulled away to discuss something by Tina. Since he is hiding the baby he puts the newborn down, right into Madam Tracy's money bag. And well, while he is off talking with Tina , Madam Tracy is taking her bag without noticing the child and off she goes. Leaving Crowley with the problem of a lost antichrist and for some reason a slowmo shot of him trying to catch up with a taxi.

He starts drinking. He knows he is done for so what's the point. (The first bottle he grabs is Aardvark Snapps idk why I finde that interesting) . At this point he has accepted that he will end up for an eternity being punished. Hours later Aziraphale makes an appearance and is a little bit judgemental about Crowley being drunk. (Side note: an other hc of mine is that script!Aziraphale is straight edge bc of that scene). Crowley tries to have him join him drinking but fails. And then just tries a to have a little heart to heart. ("I am doomed, Aziraphale") Only getting a little speech about being a demon and therefore inherently being doomed ('duhhh!') back.

Crowley eventually just confides in Aziraphale how much he has fucked up having a bit of a monologue about it. Eventually Aziraphale offers to help find the boy, but only if he is allowed to influence him. To which Crowley reluctantly agrees, because it would mean that he still fails his task of raising a boy that Satan could be proud of. But Aziraphale is a little bit manipulative (also Crowley is still drunk while Aziraphale is sober) so they shake on it. Anyway this exchange is one of my favorites in the script .

We finally jump eleven years into the future and get to meet Adam.

He has been adopted by Madam Tracy. And is now running a bed and breakfast in the quaint little town of Tadfield. Instead of an army base this Tadfield has direct access to the sea. Including it's very own pier. Anyhow I said Adam is running the b&b that's because Madam Tracy is a neglectful parent and as much as I enjoy her script version, she is not doing great here. Adam is running errands, making breakfast for his mom and generally keeping things together. His whole introduction is him being a little adult .

He finally gets some child time and we meet 'the Them' except they are not 'the Them'. Brian, Pepper and Wensleydale are a friend group and they try to talk to Adam because Pepper wants to be friends with him ( I think the intention was to make Pepper and Adam as THING but idk) . But Adam wants nothing to do with them and instead just wants his peace and quite. So he gets insulted for not having a father and sulks off.

Anathema has also arrived at the scene. And has a culture shock bc of the lackluster infrastructure out here. She arrives in Tadfield with some difficulties and now has to somehow find a place to stay. And while the town seemed overrun with places renting out rooms it also has a case of outdated world views and nobody is willing to take Anathema in for some reason or the other. She eventually gets pointed into the direction of Madam Tracy. Where she is informed that she can have a room . And Madam Tracy casually dunks on Picasso which I can support.

Anathema then repeatedly runs into Adam and tries to strike up a conversation but he just doesn't want to and runs off. As both of them eventually go home at the end of the day he accuses her of following him, since they both are taking the same path. As he gets told that Anathema also lives at the same address as him now he gets angry and stroms to Madam Tracy, disrupting a seance to scold her for taking on a lodger without his approval. He is angry that Madam Tracy is so reckless taking in people without proper background check.

Following that, Adam interviews Anathema. And they bond .

At night Adam sneaks off to the pier and we learn that he has build a model of Tadfield in an abandoned arcade.

He and Anathema bond a bit more over breakfast. (And honestly I like that version of them more relationship wise. As much as I love Prattchet, he did have a particular style of writing children that also came through in Gomens . It lends itself great to hypotheticals and punchlines, not so much for interpersonal relationships)

Back to Crowley and Aziraphale. Last time Crowley had been hopeful and appreciative of the angel. Well now he is running out of time and he is getting grumpy and down in the dumps and ready to give up. While Aziraphale is still unrelentingly optimistic. Poly makes an other entrance, Crowley puzzles together an ancient Etruscan pott. All riveting stuff.

Shadwell, or what's left of his character makes a short appearance as 'MAD OLD MAN' shouting and standing on a soap box as set dressing for Crowley to buy a newspaper and... Pay for it . (Honestly I would have not expected HIM to pay for anything)

He gets zapped into hell without notice.

(Side note Miss Ashtoreth is mentioned as secretary of Satan himself.)

Satan wants to check up on his son's progress. Crowley is shitting himself and lies, reassuring Satan that the boy is properly evil and all that . Of course Satan wants to see the boy real soon and tells Crowley to tell the boy that he is ready for when the boy wants to see him. And after taking a look at Adam by rearranging the universe itself to show a likeness in the stars (hell is a very surreal space with an office above the pit and direct view of all of the universe) Crowley gets zapped back to earth. (Also Satan calls Crowley 'Crawler' which is the script version of Crowley's name change, probably)

Crowley Is now properly stressed out.

On the other end of London (probably) Aziraphale's Crowley senses tingle and he just starts running (presumably) towards Crowley. This never gets brought up or explained. And is so bizarre I couldn't skip it.

Back in Tadfield Adam and Pepper get a bit of a bonding moment. Talking about action figures, Pepper giving Adam a lecture about not being sexist , getting fish and chips. The topic of Adams lack of a father gets brought up again and he lies. Telling Pepper he had met his father before and his father is some sort of international business man, that meets with presidents and is very busy. Eventually Pepper asks about Anathema and tries to convince Adam to take her (pepper) to the movies.

Back in London one Angel apparently unable to use public transport arrives at the nightclub. We can assume that he had been running the whole way. He gets pointed towards Crowley by multiple staff members, 'Every day' gets another cameo and he accidentally stumbles into the dressing room for the waiting staff, which is very embarrassing for him but not for the women.

When he reaches Crowley's office, the demon doesn't want to talk. He is panicking and packing to go on the run for the rest of eternity. (Which for him just means a suitcase full of sunglasses) . What follows is the infamous dialogue script!Crowley get his reputation from. (I might make myself very unpopular here but I think that reputation is not quite deserved. Yes he is an asshole but also the harsher exchanges only play out when he is stressed/panicked and usually if he goes too far he will try and paddel back. Still worst of the Crowleys without a doubt just not quite as bad as people like to paint him. Also script!Aziraphale isn't half as naive and helpless as people like to paint him either and in this house we let him have his agency! But also more on that later)

The exchange switches tone once Aziraphale lets his unbreakable optimism fallter and gets sad. To which Crowley immediately reacts bc trying to reassure him that they are in fact friends and that he shouldn't be sorry. Pointing out that he (Crowley) now knows what the boy looks like to counteract Aziraphale's pessimistic statement that they could never have found the boy bc they didn't even know what he looks like. They agree to hit one more town in their search for the boy.

In Tadfield Anathema finally gets to talk about her quest to find the SOMETHING with Madam Tracy. And have her witness a fight between Brian and Adam about Adam's father. (Srly Adam gets constantly bullied bc of that.) Anathema steps between the two to protect Adam. They make a deal to tell each other's secrets. First we get Anathema showing Adam stuff about the antichrist and the weapon she plans on killing him with.

Then we get an intermission with Crowley and Aziraphale discussing how they should choose which town to go to. They decide with a dart throw.

Back with Adam and Anathema. Adam shows Anathema his model of Tadfield. To the question what he plans on doing once that model is done, he tells her, he is going to build the rest of the world and rule over it. He also voices his desire to go somewhere else so he is no longer stuck in Tadfield.

Aziraphale and Crowley arrive in Tadfield during a Thunderstorm and face the same problem as Anathema. No one wants to rent them a room in town. And while with Anathema the whole thing was rooted in sexism, disdain for outsiders (aka read as Americans) and misunderstandings about her occupation, for those two it's the obligatory 'People think they are a gay couple' thing but with a giant side of Homophobia.

Crowley want to give up, Aziraphale want to go on and eventually they end up at Madam Tracy's.

Madam Tracy mistakes them for the gas person, Crowley wants separate rooms, Aziraphale a shared one,(we never get to know which they now took bc the script has both, scenes with a shared room and with a separate rooms. It could also be that Crowley simply stays longer than Aziraphale and therefore the shared room becomes his single room. At any rate it is never specified. And to be honest there are multiple parts of the script where the author very obviously had given up on it , soooo) Crowley praises Aziraphale's skill as homemaker, Madam Tracy tells them, they have to wait for Adam. Adam comes home Crowley recognizes the boy.

Crowley and Aziraphale take a stroll on the beach and come to the agreement that each should spend a day with the boy, despite Crowley trying to avoid having Aziraphale influence the kid. They also witness how Brian's father is getting things set up and ready to tear down the pier.

In the evening they play an other game of checkers. Adam witnessing first hand Crowley's cheating as he gets the both of them to have dinner with the whole house.

At the dinner table they convince Madame Tracey to let them take Adam to London for a day. Adam being obviously overjoyed about the whole thing.

Anathema sees Aziraphale's and Crowley's true nature for a sec. And I am sorry if this part comes across as rather dry, it's also rather dry in the script.

Adam gets taken to London. First Aziraphale get to show him the museum and talk about human creations . (Side note , when I first got my hands on the script I thought I was missing a page bc the dialogue has a really awkward jump in this scene but no ... It's supposed to be like that and either it was the author giving up or it was supposed to be a kid thing. Jumping from one topic to the next with not much logic. We will never know)

Adam then confronts Aziraphale about Crowley's cheating. And here comes the part why I will never see script!Aziraphale as truly naive or helpless. Aziraphale admits to Adam that he had always known Crowley cheated, he just thought it virtuous to not point it out. Bc he played fair and in his mind that was enough to stand above the other and win in a sense and just let him do the cheating. Adam points out how it's stupid, and that was that. Aziraphale is stunned and does what most people with too much money and no idea how to handle kids do, exactly drag him somewhere, where he can buy shit.

Next up is Crowley. First he drags Adam to Soho. Not Good Omens there might be a cozy bookshop somewhere Soho but well 90s it's a bit of a cess pool Soho. With hookers and homeless teenage girls ( and for all those people that take Crowley being displeased with Adam for giving the girl some change as point to call him fundamentally mean/bad... I implore you learn what character motivations are. He has been tasked with raising an evil child, has promised an evil child, obviously he is displeased when that child is doing something selfless. And he wouldn't do something selfless in the presence of said child either bc again he is supposed to influence him towards evil) Crowley then gets him a milkshake and takes him to his club where they have the mirror conversation to Aziraphale's. Ending with Adam pointing out that it is pretty boring to always win for the wins sake by the means of cheating.

On the way back they have a short (also very old couple and married) conversation about their respective experiences with the boy. Accidentally letting it slip that they know who Adam's father is, believing the boy to be asleep. He is not.

That night Anathema finally succeeds in her endeavor of finding the antichrist. Her crystal ball revealing to her that it is indeed Adam. She is so shocked by that, that she lets the ball fall but luckily for her Aziraphale does his thing and it lands safely without breaking. (That another quirk of the script apparently Anathema and Aziraphale were supposed to be something and what ever that is, it's even weirder than Adam and Pepper)

Madam Tracy also finally recognized Crowley from THAT night and they have a honest heart to heart. Or whatever you call it when the otherwise always woozy character suddenly seem lucid and aware of what will happen.

That night Adam goes to Anathema for emotional support bc of the father thing. Anathema however is in the middle of a crisis bc she now knows what Adam is and had tried to get herself ready to murder him but struggles with herself to do it. Eventually Adam notices the knife behind her back and with the first flair of his antichrist powers forces her to show it to him before storming off hurt.

Being emotionally distraught he runs to his hideout on the pier and calls out to his feather. First nothing happens but then after Adam went off the pier and back again it is completely transformed into a bright happy carnival. His Father has arrived. Satan immediately takes Adam under his wings . He even dresses him up as a mini self.

The next morning the whole town of Tadfield is one giant carnival. There is a parade with elephants. And the people from around town are all mindlessly attending the celebration.

Crowley has a short meeting with Satan (on an elephant can't stress that enough) and gets told that he is supposed to come to Satan to talk about his promotion to alpha centauri. AND

( Don't ask me why I find this too funny to not share, my humor is very broken )

The town is being further transformed and more people are made mindless puppets. But now Crowley is happy to have gotten away with his stunt. He is roleplaying flirting with someone in a mirror. (Also in the script notes it literally says James Bond for acting directions for Crowley, and that's such a dorky idea I love the theory of it ... Bit of a waste in this tho).

Aziraphale tries to change his mind but Crowley shuts him down by pointing out that he was the one saying happiness alone is making things a good deed so it shouldn't matter if people have to be made into mindless puppets first. They are happy after all.

Meanwhile Adam is torturing Brian by throwing tomatoes hat him and having the rest of the town join in with the fun. He just wants his father to be proud of him (nawww ) (that naw was sarcastic). In the crowd Anathema is fighting to regain control over herself.

Aziraphale still tries to convince Crowley. Tugging at his heart strings but even the tried and true "I thought we are friends" won't work this time. Crowley wants to seize his opportunity, he wants out and up.

While those two are arguing, Anathema struggles. All she wants it the knife but she is exhausted.

Crowley is looking for a starting point for his launch towards alpha centauri. He is climbing onto a church tower. Behind him Aziraphale still hasn't given up. Despite not liking heights (!? Wasn't mentioned before will not be mentioned again but apparently script!Aziraphale has a fear of heights). He finally gets an idea and challenges Crowley to one last match.

Crowley for once doesn't cheat and it looks like he is about to win but then Aziraphale DOES cheat, desperate to keep Crowley on earth and have him fight at his side. And Crowley just shrugs and accepts. His next line after acknowledging the win already calls Satan his ex-boss and if that is not a very impressive 180° turn then I don't know what is. (Just a throw back to character motivation, we could speculate it's because most of what Crowley has said were lies and half truths and deep down he actually likes earth and bla or he just remembered how much he would miss his nightclub BUT I as number one script!Crowley (not really) defender say ... It's just unfinished/bad writing and there simply wasn't enough time or inspiration or whatever to finish his character ark)

Anathema manages to give both of them the knife. Crowley is so idiotic and tries to grab it but it burns him . I mean, duhh! Anathema literally tells them that this knife can hurt the antichrist why should it be harmless for a way lesser demon? So Aziraphale takes the knife.

After calling Crowley his best friend, Crowley himself calling himself stupid, Aziraphale, presumably (presumably is important here) with the knife, goes off to confront Adam. He tried to talk Adam out of it. Trying to point out that no good father leaves his kid alone for eleven years and if this is really what Adam wants. As he points out that Madam Tracy despite all her flaws still love Adam he gets discorporated, by Adam. But bc this is a Movie script and we don't have much time left he just stays in his true angel form (which is very much just white robes , wings and halo ) right where he is, further trying to talk Adam out of it .

(here is an other line in my mounting pile of evidence that script! Aziraphale is neither naive nor helpless and simply chooses to carry himself that way bc he thinks it's virtuous. He literally acknowledges that people can do bad things. Something he would not do at any point before that in the script. I rest my case )

While Aziraphale is trying to make Adam think about things, Crowley is off confronting Satan, presumably without the knife.

Satan acknowledges that Crowley had lied to him but is still in such a good mood that he still wants to give out the promotion. Even throws in the titel of fiend extraordinar. For a moment it seems like Crowley considers but ultimately he tells Satan that he wants to quit. Satan is not happy about that and after Crowley also pulls out a pink rubber glove and the knife (yhea Crowley had the knife all along , take that continuity or rather scree logic, like not showing how they get a rubber glove is fine, what ever but having the last scene with the knife be the one where it's shown that he can't touch it and Aziraphale had to carry it would have made it feel a bit too deus ex machina.) Satan forces him into half snake form and summens hands that try and drag him back to hell.

Thanks to his already established Crowley senses (probably ) Aziraphale suddenly shows up and charges at Satan. Who in turn is like 'An angel, really? You betrayed me,..' and then roasts Aziraphale to a crisp before destroying the knife .

Adam confronted with a robotic acting madam Tracy, listening to his every command, starts to reflect on his actions. Getting called in by his father to greed the four horsepersons he notices Aziraphale and Crowley.

Adam now faced with all the destruction says: no, I am not doing it. Stan tries to threaten him into obeying but he gets the good old 'You not my dad'. For being a deadbeat for 11 years. Adam then heals Aziraphale and frees Crowley. Now flanked by the two Adam banishes the horseman.

Satan demanding obedience once more, gets reminded by Crowley that he himself once rebelled. And after laughing about that revelation he tells Adam that it was interesting meeting him but as it seemed he wasn't cut out to be a dad. To Crowley he says that he is now banned from hell and to Aziraphale that he should tell his boss, that at least his son (the antichrist) had more guts than his(Jesus and yes the script sadly uses he/him for God).

After Satan vanishes they have to escape a collapsing pier. Noticing too late that Madam Tracy is also still there. Adam ends up releasing her from her trance by calling her mom and telling her that he loves her. Aziraphale ends up saving both of them, flying them to safety on the beach.

At the beach they also meet Anathema, who promises not to kill him, and Pepper . They watch as the pier explodes and burns to the ground. Anathema also has uncomfortable eye contact with Aziraphale while he ripples back into human form . (Don't ask me why it feels uncomfortable, Anathema is described as looking tens while he still full angel and softening once he is human again, so idk)

Apropos Anathema and Aziraphale. The next Morning, he comes to say goodbye and ends up offering a job bc (I forgot to mention it when it happened) Polly, his assistant had a promotion. So he is in search for a new assistant. She end up kissing him on the cheek and calling him angel but in a way where it's ambiguous if she now knows that he is one or if she just thinks he is a good person and something always makes her forget what he really is. At any rate Aziraphale says he had never gotten a kiss on the cheek in six thousand years and knowing a bit about history and cultural practices I am inclined to calling him a liar. But then again this is fiction .... So sure ... Cheek kiss virgin this one.

While that is happening Madam Tracy is asking Crowley if she can keep the boy now . And Crowley reassures her, that after this, no one is going to come for him. He even offers to throw a birthday party for her at his club, all she should do is to just to look after the boy. It's actually a very sweet exchange.

Outside Brian and Adam have a little exchange, Brain trying once more to get to Adam with the father thing. But Adam has no daddy issues anymore. Instead he asks Pepper out to the movies and Brian just tags along without being asked. Where is Wensleydale you asking ? Take your best guess, he was mentioned once said one thing and then fell off the earth. He probably exploded with the pier and nobody even remembers.

With the kids now finally as a group we have the last shot of Aziraphale and Crowley. They are walking along the street , Crowley one stolen apple in hand . Having their talk about good and evil. Accusing each other of being a little bit of a good person (press x to boubt) and just enough of a bastard (oh absolutely). How they both knew the other was cheating all along. And maybe alpha centauri isn't such a good idea after all. You can't even get booze there. The last thing that is said is Aziraphale telling Crowley to 'not start THAT again', after being offered the apple.

I lied one more screenshot bc Every ...it had been for told by the cursed script for ages now. (I am pretty sure it had been in the talks to put go to Every day' even before the script was ordered so that is just a joke)

At any rate I do have to go to work in ....eh three hours ... So I will leave it at the summary for now. I am dyslexic and English mu second language so I am very sorry for all the mistakes I probably made . If someone reblogs this before I get the chance to correct them, let it be said that at least nobody can claim this is ai pfff.

Also not I said the name of the author the two times I mentioned him simply bc I don't feel like acknowledging the name of the person. I got into Gomens bc of Sir Terry and I stay here for him. This little obsession with the shit script happened by pure chance and purely against my will pfff

[edosianorchids901]

Last Call

@flashfictionfridayofficial prompt - "calling, calling home"

In Aziraphale’s opinion, homesickness was rather silly. For most of his existence on Earth, he hadn’t really had a home at all. Orders frequently came to move from one place to another, and he never spent too long anywhere.

Until the past several centuries, anyway. He’d been primarily stationed in London since the War of the Roses, albeit with occasional stints elsewhere. And then he’d opened his bookshop, and that became home.

Still, he’d only been away for a week. And not even very far! He was simply in Edinburgh, another place where he’d spent an awful lot of time. It was so silly to be upset.

But even though it was silly, he couldn’t ignore the twisting pain in his stomach when he thought of home, or the ache in his chest. And not just for his bookshop, either.

He missed Crowley. And that was even more silly.

It wasn’t as if a week was a long time to go between seeing each other. In the past, they had gone decades or even centuries apart! But since reconciling about twenty years ago, they had met up much more frequently. Going out to lunch, feeding the ducks, and relaxing in the bookshop became regular events.

In short, Aziraphale had gotten awfully used to having his friend around. Now, the empty space to his left made him ache. Crowley ought to be there.

But they still had the Arrangement, after all, and it only made sense for Aziraphale to handle Crowley’s assignments in Scotland. They would have plenty of time together when he was done here.

Aziraphale sighed again, and ordered another drink. He wasn’t really in the habit of going to pubs—not by himself, at any rate—but he hadn’t been quite sure what else to do. He had needed something of a break from performing blessings and temptations, and he hadn’t felt like reading. It just wasn’t the same to read while sitting in a lonely hotel room.

Drinking scotch alone did not help with the pervasive misery, though. His mood simply sank lower, until he was blinking away tears while sitting at the bar. Oh dear, he really was being so absurd. If only he could talk to Crowley for a bit…

Oh. He could actually talk to Crowley, couldn’t he? That was one of the wonderful things about humans, they were always inventing new technology. Telephones, for example.

Shaking his head at himself, Aziraphale clambered off the barstool and tottered across the bar to the nice phone. It was a bit blurry, but then, so was everything else. He might have drank a little bit too much scotch, but at least the pub would be closing soon, and would save him from the impulse to drink even more.

He fumbled with the phone, then with the coins in his pocket. After a moment, he gave up and simply used a nice miracle to make it work. His dexterity seemed a bit compromised.

He also very much did not remember Crowley’s telephone number at the moment. Instead, he simply said, “Call Crowley.”

The phone rang for a moment, and then picked up. “Fell’s Bookshop. Nothing’s for sale, so bugger off.”

“Oh, Crowley! It’s so nice to hear your voice.” The situation registered as somewhat odd, and Aziraphale paused, frowning. “Why is your voice coming from my bookshop?”

“Because I’m in your bookshop, obviously.”

“Why are you in my bookshop?”

Crowley was silent for a moment, then gave a soft hiss. “Needed somewhere to hang out.”

All at once, Aziraphale understood. He smiled a little, leaning against the wall. “I missed you too, Crowley.”

“Oy, I didn’t say I missed you. S’ a good spot to have a drink. You’ve got a terrific sofa.” Again, Crowley paused. “Are you drunk too, angel? You sound drunk.”

Aziraphale considered it. “Well, um. Perhaps a bit tipsy.”

“Right, okay. Move the phone away from your head.”

“Why?” Aziraphale asked, already doing it.

The phone vibrated oddly, and then something burst from the speaker. Aziraphale yelped and dropped the phone, stumbling back. He nearly overbalanced, and caught the wall to steady himself.

The stream of particles from the phone resolved into a slightly disheveled, slightly breathless Crowley. He gave a lopsided grin. “Hey, Aziraphale. Nice pub you’ve got here.”

“Oh, it’s not my pub,” Aziraphale said automatically, struggling to catch up to what he’d seen. “Have you just come through the telephone line?”

“Yup. I don’t do it very often, but it comes in handy occasionally. Really compresses you, though.” Crowley stretched, then crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. His eyes widened behind the dark glasses. “Oop. You’ve been crying.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Yes, you have.”

Aziraphale reached up and felt his cheeks. “Ah. They are a bit damp, I suppose. I-I just… I was lonely.”

For a moment, he thought he might start to cry again. But then Crowley took his arm and gently pushed him into a chair, then dropped into a seat across from him. “S’ all right. I’m here now, yeah? You want another drink?”

“The pub’s closing soon.”

“I can miracle it to stay open.”

“Ooh.” Aziraphale really shouldn’t indulge more. But then, he had been drinking on his own all this time. Drinking with Crowley would be much, much more fun. “Oh, why not? We can always sober up if we get too inebri… in… drunk.”

Crowley flashed another delighted grin and waved to the bartender. “Terrific. Good way to pass the time until we can head home, eh?”

Really, Aziraphale already felt home. He always felt home when he was with Crowley, no matter their actual location on Earth. Placing that call had been a very good idea after all. “It certainly is.”

[ineffable-problem]

things that i 100% think Crowley invented

Sunglasses (he felt bad that his eyes scarring humans so he found a way to cover them)

Selfies/mirror selfies (when the camera was invented he wanted a picture of him and Aziraphale but there was no one to take it so he set it up Infront of a mirror)

LEGOs (so kids could have fun but also because he thought it would be funny if a parent stepped on one)

punch buggy (one of the reasons Aziraphale rarely rides with him)

those stickers on lids that never fully come off (he regretted it later on when he encountered it himself)

the cardboard on products that also never comes off (same regrets at the stickers)

glitter glue (again to annoy parents and Aziraphale )

those erasers that only smudge stuff (no explanation, just think it fits

The Game (which you just lost)

pineapple on pizza (no i will not explain)

[quadrantadvisor]

Moulting, Good Omens, Falling!Aziraphale au, 2831 words

-

Aziraphale sipped at his chardonnay (not vintage, nothing special, just something he’d picked up to share with company) and sighed contentedly. It’d been a lovely day. Not inasmuch as that the weather had been nice, but rather in that he’d met up with Crowley at St. James’s Park that morning, underneath the gloomy, overcast sky, and then they’d spent the day together. A walk until the rain started coming down, lunch in a new restaurant owned by a pleasant Korean couple, and a trip to the cinema at Crowley’s insistence. Then, finally, to the bookshop to drink and chat. It was getting late, now, and the sky was dark with heavy clouds.

“So you didn’t like it? Not even the actors?” Crowley asked, a note of complaint in his voice.

Aziraphale resisted the urge to roll his eyes, because it was a terrible habit really, and suited Crowley much better. “That isn’t what I said, I’m just not sure that I understood the point of it all. They all seem rather manic, running around as they do, don’t they?” He took a sharp breath, and tried to work his shoulders back and forth discreetly.

Crowley gestured towards Aziraphale with his wine glass, nearly spilling, but of course the liquid knew better than to slosh out. “In about 50 years you’ll get used to them, and then they’ll invent some kind of immersive hologram technology, and you’ll be saying what a shame it is that no one appreciates films anymore because they were true artistry.” Crowley was looking at him, then, and frowned. “Are you feeling alright?”

Aziraphale gave his best smile. “Oh yes, of course, tip top shape!” Aziraphale knew that he was no good at coming up with excuses on the spot, so he’d prepared one earlier. “I tried out that sleeping thing again, but all it seems to have done is bother my back. These corporeal forms really are much too sensitive.”

“Mm, right,” Crowley said, and Aziraphale couldn’t tell if he was buying it or not. There was certainly no reason for him not to buy it. Aziraphale was too tipsy for this, and Crowley was still wearing his blasted shades. Crowley pulled out his mobile phone, glanced at it. “Speaking of, I ought to be off.” He downed his drink and grabbed for the jacket he’d slung over his chair.

“I thought that there was no rest for the wicked?” Aziraphale tried, smiling weakly.

He was rewarded by Crowley giving him a sly look and saying, “Surely you’ve heard of beauty sleep.”

Aziraphale chuckled at him, and stood at the same time Crowley did, to walk him to the door. Only polite. “Don’t forget to sober up before you drive,” he chided. “It’s dangerous.”

“I know, I know.”

The rain was coming down heavily, the sound near overwhelming once the front door was open. Aziraphale thought that Crowley met his gaze for a moment, but the lights were too dim to tell. “See you later, Angel.” He stepped out into the wet, immediately drenched.

“Yes. Later.” Aziraphale kept watching him, saw him shake himself free of both the alcohol in his system and the rain, which began to sheet away from his artfully tousled hair. He got into the bentley, drove off into the dark.

Aziraphale closed the door gently, muting the downpour. He stood for a moment, breathing.

Well. Best to get it over with all at once.

Aziraphale rolled his shoulders back and gently, gently, pulled out his wings. He stretched them to their full length. Then he shook them.

Pain lanced through him, like hot irons applied to exposed nerves, and he gasped. Blackened, singed feathers fell straight down, rather than fluttering, and made soft plink-ing noises as they hit the floor. Like huge, dark raindrops. As they built up around him their smell began to waft up, and Aziraphale nearly choked on it. Sulfur and burned hair and acrid smoke. There were so many this time, must be a few dozen at least.

Good. Aziraphale wished that there was a way to speed this whole process up.

There was, of course, but he didn’t know how to implement it without coming off strange. It wouldn’t do to crowd the dear boy; Crowley needed his space, certainly, and Aziraphale would never want to intrude where he wasn’t welcome. When Crowley wanted to see him, he would seek him out, and Aziraphale would have to continue relying on that.

He’d just left, and Aziraphale already missed him. How silly. His wings seemed to be clear, and Aziraphale let them droop, near touching the floor themselves. He swiped at the tears building up in his eyes. How pathetic. An angel, making such a fuss over a few feathers. It was good that Crowley was gone. Aziraphale wouldn’t want him to see him like this. No point in feeling sorry for himself. No point in feeling lonely. Aziraphale had already made his choices, and now he would see them through.

Just one more moment. Just a few more deep, ragged breaths.

Aziraphale went to find his dustpan. Couldn’t leave the ghastly things lying about, where anyone could see them. That wouldn’t do at all.

-

It had all started some months after dear young Adam had kindly stalled Armageddon, nearly a full year. Aziraphale had been in the middle of sorting inventory (read as: doing some light reading) when the phone rang. Aziraphale jumped to answer it, because odds were that the only person calling would be Crowley. Aziraphale had put the shop's phone number up on its website, naturally, it was the done thing, but that didn't mean that anyone else had access to it. Said website was nigh unsearchable, and completely innavigable for anyone who did find themselves there (could Aziraphale be blamed for having trouble with all this newfangled technology? The fact that it was the perfect cover to keep his bookshop out of the public eye was just a bonus.)

Aziraphale picked up the phone with a bright, "Hello!" wondering what plans Crowley might have for the day.

"Ah, Aziraphale," said a familiar voice. Charming and confident, affable in a way that was distant, above it all. "I see that this human contraption works, after all."

"Gabriel?" Aziraphale was frozen in shock. He had seen neither form nor feather of another angel since they'd dragged Crowley off to heaven in his body. He'd been quite hoping that they'd all forgotten about him after the hellfire incident. And in any case, heaven never communicated through indirect channels. For his entire time being stationed on Earth, Aziraphale had always sent and received paperwork through heavenly messengers, and if his supervisors wanted to check up on him, they did it personally.

"Yes, Archangel Gabriel, that is my name."

Evidently, no more was forthcoming, and Aziraphale adjusted his grip on the telephone. As his corporation came back into feeling, he realized that he was shaking. "What is the meaning of this"? Aziraphale asked, trying for all the world to harden his tone, but knowing he came off as weak and soft as he ever had. "I thought we had an agreement that I would be left alone."

"Yes, Aziraphale, exactly right. None of us will interfere with you. As things are now, heaven won't touch you." Gabriel's strangely chipper cadence gained a new edge to it. "And isn't that a pickle? An angel, with no connection to heaven."

Again, Aziraphale waited for him to elaborate, but apparently Gabriel was determined to draw this out. "I'm afraid I don't catch your meaning," he admitted.

It seemed that that acknowledgment was all Gabriel wanted. "Well, we've been discussing your"—Aziraphale could hear the sneer in his voice—"situation, and found ourselves pretty confused, all things considered! You have obviously been corrupted, deeply, deeply corrupted, and yet," this time it's confusion that Aziraphale hears, the utter bafflement of it almost… innocent. "You haven't Fallen."

"Ah." Aziraphale swallows. "I suppose I haven't."

Gabriel was back to cocksure, the innocence purged. "So, like I said, we were talking about it, and the only thing that makes sense is that you've been affected by an overabundance of demonic influence. And no wonder!" His laugh grated Aziraphale's ear. "You've been stationed down there for what, 6,000 years, give or take a few decades? Not that we had any way of knowing, of course, that your adversary had successfully tempted you into some sort of arrangement, or we would've pulled you millenia ago for some recuperation."

They were trying to blame Crowley. Of course they would. "Now, Gabriel, I—"

The archangel interrupted him. "Don't you see what this means, Aziraphale?" he asked, as sunny as ever. For a moment, it seemed as if he was waiting for a response again, but maybe it was just a dramatic pause. "It means there's still hope!"

"Hope?" Aziraphale was a great proponent of hope, generally, but the word felt like ash in his mouth. "Hope for what, exactly?"

Gabriel, with exaggerated patience, explained, "Hope that you might return to the fold. Return to the Host, Aziraphale. Like I said, you've been gone for too long. Michael wasn't a fan of the idea, but I'm fairly certain that if you spend a few thousand years in quiet contemplation, bathing in heavenly light, you'll be able to purge yourself of all of that, ugh, unpleasantness."

Fear's grip on Aziraphale had tightened, and it felt like it was constricting the muscle in his chest. "You can't take me, you can't, we had a deal—"

"Calm down, of course not," Gabriel said, amused. "We won't do anything against your will. Aren't you the one who always said that it means more if they choose, on their own, whether to be saved or damned? So," the silence on the line stretched for only a moment, and then, "I'm offering you a choice."

"What does that entail?" Aziraphale felt cold now.

"Well, it was difficult to set up, I'll tell you that much. We don't normally do this manually, but we found some old files on the process. I guess you could call it a bit drastic, but, drastic times, and all that."

"Spit it out, Gabriel." Aziraphale wasn't quite sure where that came from. He was no longer feeling like a present part of the conversation.

Gabriel let out a short, aggravated hum. "Alright, here it is. Heaven's ultimatum for the Principality Aziraphale. You've allowed your angelic essence to be tainted by associating with the demon, Crowley. We are offering a chance for you to return, willingly, of course, and purify your essence. However," he says, and he wields the condition like a knife, "should you reject Heaven's forgiveness and generosity, and continue perversely consorting with our enemy, we will have to," Gabriel hummed again, but this one was pleased, self-righteous, "cut you off, so to speak."

"You mean—"

"Yes, Aziraphale. There aren't bad angels. It's antithetical to what we are. We found the files on the manual process, and we'll do it, to keep the Host pure. You'll be damned."

Aziraphale closed his eyes. Breathed in. Breathed out. "You're saying that I must choose between Heaven and Crowley, under the threat of Falling."

"Yes." And wasn't Gabriel proud of himself, for his clever solution to their little problem. Neatly smudge away the black spot on his record in one move. Checkmate, no options for escape.

Aziraphale, finally, felt calm. "Ah. Well. I choose him."

"What?"

Annoyance crept into his voice. "I choose him, Gabriel. I thought that should be rather obvious. I chose him, and the Earth, over you and your organization already. Remember that? It was rather a big to-do. Does Armageddon ring any bells?"

Gabriel's tone was pricked with discomfort, but firm. "My threats are not idle, Aziraphale. Every moment you spend with him will draw you further from the Almighty's Grace. The contract has been drawn up and sealed. You will not be allowed to continue in this manner."

"And yet, I plan on doing exactly that. If there isn't anything else, I'll be going now."

A few flustered noises, the likes of which Aziraphale had never imagined an archangel making, came over the phone line. Then Gabriel seethed, "Fine. Enjoy your Fall from Grace, freak." The call ended.

Gabriel had never expected Aziraphale to even consider option two, that was obvious enough. It was merely coercion, to get Aziraphale to do what they wanted, which was to sit down, shut up, and become the perfect little soldier that would go along with it the next time they tried ending the world in glorious battle. Bugger that. Aziraphale was his own ethereal being, and he would make his own decisions.

Well. Not "ethereal" for much longer, it didn't seem. Aziraphale refused to let himself be afraid, and so he wasn't. He wasn't.

And there wasn't any reason to be. Everything was perfectly fine. A couple of days later, Crowley really did call, and even if Aziraphale could hardly bring himself to pick up the phone, he made it before it rang out. Crowley had tickets to an outdoors theatre, and oh, wouldn't that be lovely? The evenings were just getting warm enough, the sun lingering in the sky, and they'd sit or stand and watch a performance like they had so many times before. Aziraphale agreed readily, and Crowley said he'd pick him up at 6:30.

The first one had shocked him, it really did. He'd yelped aloud in the middle of a soliloquy, and gotten dirty looks from the audience around them. Aziraphale barely noticed, because his wing, his wing, something had happened to it, and the sharp pinprick pain of a burn was giving way to an ache, deep in the bone, traveling all the way up to his back, a celestial insistence that something was wrong, wrong, so very wrong.

"Angel, what's happened? Are you alright?" Crowley was saying quietly, urgently. He was leaning in towards Aziraphale, who was having to fight against the sudden, foolish impulse to take his hand and let the contact ground him. It was light enough for Aziraphale to catch his eyes darting about, scanning for possible threats. His gaze turned back to the angel. "You jumped like something bit you."

"I—" he couldn't finish the statement, didn't know how to. He tried again. "You know, I suppose something must have." Aziraphale chuckled weakly. "How odd, insects generally know better than to bother us. I suppose it just surprised me, that's all."

Aziraphale managed to excuse himself, promising to be right back. He felt Crowley's gaze on his back the entire time he made his way through the crowd.

It was difficult to find a spot with the requisite amount of privacy and space, but Aziraphale managed. He manifested his wings into physical space, and pulled the afflicted one forward to assess the damage.

He had barely touched it when the feather detached, and fell. 

Aziraphale stared at it. Leaned down, picked it up. A single feather. Among thousands. He was holding a scorched secondary. He had felt no relief when it fell, just a harsh continuation of the pain.

He noticed the ugly look of it, the way it had practically calcified rather than burning away, he noticed the smell.

Aziraphale didn't know what Falling was like. Crowley never talked about it. They'd been out of sight of the Host, when they'd undergone their transformations. There was a war, there were half as many angels in the heavens, and then there were creatures below that turned into beings that always seemed familiar but that no one could ever quite recognize.

Apparently, Falling hurt. Aziraphale knew that, at least, before. It was supposed to. It was a punishment, after all. This was the start, the first taste, and Aziraphale didn't care for it much. One feather out of thousands.

Was he the first angel to Fall, since the war? He hadn't heard of it happening to anyone else. Maybe it wasn't supposed to. Maybe God had split up her teams in the Beginning, and didn't care much what they did after that. Wouldn't that be something, all those angels scared into obedience when The Almighty wasn't even keeping score.

Best not to speculate. It was happening. It had started, and now he had to go through with it. He would go through with it, because some things were worth a bit of pain, a bit of risk.

He considered keeping the feather, but it did smell dreadful, and Crowley might notice it and there'd be no way to explain that. He'd have plenty more, later, if he wanted. He shoved the feather in a bin, and returned to the play. He couldn't very well keep his demon waiting. And, if what Gabriel had said was true, if every moment they spent together mattered, then Aziraphale was going to hoard and savor those moments with every atom of his angelic being.

[mimisempai]

Equivalent Exchange

Summary

Crowley loves the human invention of the shower for the comfort it brings him, but what he loves even more is Aziraphale's hands in his hair as he dries it.

Notes

Another short and sweet fluffy thing

On Ao3

Rating G -  1100 words

Crowley grunted in satisfaction as he turned off the faucet. One of the things he found superior to everything else about humans was the shower. He didn't really need one, but the ability it had to relax him and make him feel good afterwards was incredible.

The demon got out of the shower, dried off, put on a pair of pajamas, and after briefly drying his hair with a towel just enough to keep it from dripping, he grabbed the hairbrush and headed for the bedroom where he knew he'd find Aziraphale. He smiled when he saw the angel sitting against the headboard, obviously engrossed in a book.

However, despite his evident concentration, as soon as Crowley entered the room, Aziraphale closed his book and placed it on the nightstand. 

The angel watched him approach and smiled as the demon asked, pointing his chin at the book, "Have you finished it?" 

Aziraphale shook his head, "No, but it's not like I never read it."

With that, the angel spread his legs and tapped the space in front of him, motioning for the demon to sit down.

Crowley approached, handed him the hairbrush, and planted a light kiss on the angel's lips before climbing onto the bed.

Then he moved into the space created by the angel's open legs, crossed his legs beneath him, and leaned his back against the angel's chest. 

He curled his right hand around Aziraphale's leg and gently stroked it up to his knee, marveling at how familiar this kind of gesture had become. 

As much as he loved to pamper the angel, he also appreciated it when Aziraphale did it for him, and this little ritual had been going on for some time. After denying themselves for so long, both the angel and the demon enjoyed being touched as much as they enjoyed touching, so this special moment satisfied both of them perfectly.

Aziraphale leaned over and asked him gently, placing his hands on his shoulders, "Do you want me to finish drying your hair first?"

Crowley, who had not been drying his hair for that purpose, simply nodded. The angel, not fooled at all, laughed softly in response and pressed a light kiss to the damp hair before gently pushing the demon forward. 

He then grabbed the towel from Crowley's shoulder and laid it on the demon's head to gently dry the red hair, starting with the longest strands at the top of the head, then slowly working his way down to the nape of the neck where he gently rubbed the towel over the shortest strands.

Aziraphale broke the silence and said quietly, "You know, I'm proud of you."

Crowley, more than a little surprised at this sudden praise, asked him confusedly, "For what?"

"Today, I arrived a little early to wait for you at the exit of your planetarium session, and I got to see how well you managed to captivate your audience. There wasn't a single person who wasn't hanging on your every word. You're excellent at what you do, the way you share your knowledge, my dear."

Crowley turned his head toward Aziraphale with that expression the angel knew so well. The expression he wanted to erase. The one that was the same when the demon was told he was a kind person.

Crowley, visibly moved, said nothing, just kissed Aziraphale's hand that rested on his shoulder before turning his head forward again.

They remained in silence for a few seconds while Aziraphale gave Crowley time to collect himself and placed the towel beside him.

Then the angel ran his fingers through Crowley's hair, gently massaging the back of his head, and the demon leaned his head back, resting in Aziraphale's hands and humming with pleasure.

The angel then slowly combed Crowley's hair with just his fingers, gently untying the few knots in the longer hair. Then he grabbed the brush and began to slowly run it through the red hair, starting with the ends of the strands, then making wider but no less delicate strokes from the top of the head to the ends of the longer strands. 

There was a kind of precious bond between Crowley and Aziraphale in these simple touches. They didn't speak, the silence of those moments almost religious, like the echo of a sacred moment, bringing them into communion far more than words could have done.

When he was finished, Aziraphale set the brush down beside him.

Crowley slowly straightened up, turned and sat facing Aziraphale, his legs over the angel's, then wrapped his arms around his neck. He pressed his lips gently against Aziraphale's as the angel in turn wrapped his arms around Crowley's waist, returning the kiss with the same softness.

The demon nibbled gently on the lower lip of Aziraphale, who responded by opening his mouth to invite him in. The kiss deepened as Crowley pressed the angel a little closer.

Aziraphale's arms held him tightly but gently, while his hands ran gently up his back under the demon's pajama top.

The kiss lingered until they both pulled away to catch their breath, neither releasing the embrace of their arms.

Aziraphale smiled, eyes misty and cheeks flushed from the kiss they'd just shared. Crowley couldn't resist and slid his hand from the angel's neck to his face, delicately tracing the outline with his fingertips before running his thumb across the swollen lips.

Then he murmured in a breathy voice, " Gorgeous."

Aziraphale replied with a soft chuckle, "Look who's talking.... "

But the demon didn't let the deflection pass, and looking straight into Aziraphale's eyes, he repeated, "Gorgeous, I'll keep telling you until you believe me, my angel."

He shook his head a little before continuing, "How can you see beauty in others and not in yourself? "

Aziraphale shrugged and replied in a slightly bitter tone, "Force of habit, I suppose..."

Crowley pressed a kiss to his forehead and said with a mischievous smile, "Then it's a good thing you're paired with a demon who likes to shake things up. You're gorgeous, Angel."

"I love you." 

Aziraphale had just said that without transition, as if he couldn't help himself, as if the confession was pouring out of his mouth without him being able to hold it back.

Slightly surprised, as he was every time the angel said those words, the demon didn't wait more than a split second before he answered softly, "I love you too, Angel."

Then he pressed his lips to Aziraphale's in another agonizingly loving kiss.

Because it was them.

This constant equivalent exchange.

Giving and receiving.

Loving and being loved.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Growing Love series : (After season 2) 

Part 1 Story 1-99

Part 2 Story 100-?

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here (Before season 2)

[mckiwi]

The Dance of 1650

Chapter Five: Guardian Angel

Read on AO3

Start<< Prev< >Next

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Category: Gen

Fandom: Good Omens

Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley, Aziraphale/Crowley

Characters: Aziraphale, Crowley, OFCs, OMCs

“I did the ‘I was wrong’ dance in 1650, in 1793, 1941–” -Aziraphale S2:E1 39:45

If 1793 was the crepe incident and 1941 was the magic show, what happened in 1650? Or rather, what happened the time Crowley was accused of witchcraft?

---

This is written for Whumptober 2024. All of the prompts will be used by being divided up between six chapters throughout October. Each chapter will have a list of the prompts used in the tags.

“You can quit the begging and praying. No angels will come save you.”

“He will if he ever wants to see me again!” 

Aziraphale wrung his hands together and paced in one of the church’s back rooms. He’d gotten Crowley off of the consecrated ground, at least. That was his most pressing concern, but now that she was dealt with, he didn’t even know where to begin. This was as far as his hastily put-together plan had taken him. 

He could really go for some crepes right about now. And a drink. With Crowley. Far away from this town and Scotland in its entirety. The weather here was too dreary and chilly for his liking, anyhow. 

That could wait. General Bell would be back anytime now, more than likely wanting to discuss Crowley’s sentence. Obviously, he didn’t want her to die, that was simply unthinkable. If Crowley were to be discorporated, she’d be downstairs for decades! Who could he possibly thwart in the meantime? 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could admit to himself he’d miss her company immensely, regardless of the accompanying wiles. But those were thoughts for the back burner, once those were invented. For now, he had more pressing matters. 

Four knocks in quick succession at the door broke Aziraphale out of his thoughts, “Yes? Who is it?”

“General Nicholas Bell. May I enter?” The man announced. 

Aziraphale steeled himself and crossed to open the door, “Hello, General. How can I help you?”

The general seemed slightly put out. “Afternoon, Brother Fell. I was just wondering of your intentions with the demon.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow,” the angel lied.

Bell searched for his words for a moment before stating, “I’ll admit, at first I thought your intervening with the trial to be troublesome. Brother Rowe let my men and I decide the fate of witches. Your insistence has delayed the witch’s sentence, certainly. But for that very reason, I’m thankful. If we had proceeded with the sentencing without knowing the truth, that poor woman the demon is possessing would have died unjustly.”

What about all the other women who died? A voice that sounded suspiciously like Crowley argued. Aziraphale shoved that thought to the metaphorical back burner, too. “I see. Pardon me if I sound obtuse, but, what difference does it make if your subject is a witch or demon?”

“That’s what I was here to ask you,” Bell answered. “I’m a Witch Hunter. I’ve no experience with the supernatural. You, however, gave me those verses to reveal a demon’s nature and how to cleanse a body with holy water. Do you know of a way to kill a demon?”

Yes. He very well knew how to kill a demon. It was his job, admittedly one he was very bad at. 

Aziraphale looked down at Crawley. Would he kill her? He looked out across the mass of tattered blankets and sleeping children. He looked at the baby who had never been safer than in the arms of a demon. The ark gave a particularly awful lurch, or it might’ve just been the guilt settling in his stomach as he turned the other cheek. “I’ve been commanded to protect every life aboard, and that’s what I intend to do.” 

“You can’t kill this demon,” Aziraphale said in way of an explanation. It wasn’t a lie. They can’t kill Crowley. He wouldn’t allow it. “The most you could possibly do is send it back to Hell.”

Bell nodded, “and how do we do that?”

Aziraphale hesitated, “Give me some time and I’ll have a solution. This is a very delicate matter, you see. I can’t afford any mistakes.”

The general accepted this, “Understood. Thank you for assisting me. Is tomorrow morning sufficient time for you?”

“That should do, yes. I’ll be here in the morning.” Aziraphale agreed. 

His wording seemed to trip something in the other man’s memory, “Your lodgings! I’m sorry for the state we left it in. I will have some of my men repair things for you. By the time this ordeal is over, all of your things will be just as you left them.” 

Nothing would be the same after this was over, but he let it go with a short hum. General Bell took it for the dismissal it was and left Aziraphale to his thoughts once again. 

The sun had long since set on the horizon. Aziraphale had papers strewn out in front of him and a cup of tea that had hardly been touched. It was fortunate angels didn’t need sleep, not that Aziraphale would be able to regardless, not when he still didn’t have a plan in place. 

He’d had several ideas, though none of them seemed worthwhile. His most promising idea thus far involved causing an earthquake and breaking the doors to the cell, allowing Crowley to escape, but that’d been done before, and it’d surely be noticed by humans and Heaven alike. Scotland wasn’t exactly known to have foundation-shattering quakes, after all, so that idea carried about as much potential as a piece of wet firewood. 

Wet firewood… he could suggest Crowley be burned at the stake, but–

No, that wouldn’t work. Aziraphale hung his head in his hands and scrubbed at his face harshly. How had they gotten into this situation again? 

He mulled over several more ideas in the following hours. One such idea involved Crowley turning into a snake and slipping out unnoticed through the mob of people. He thought better of it when he remembered what God had last said to the Serpent of Eden. He will crush your head, and you will strike his heel. Best not to have Crowley around that many snake-crushable boots. 

As the sun rose and the fog dissipated, Aziraphale set out through the village in search of… something. He first stopped by the cells but found them guarded and locked. Crowley was inside, he could sense that much. She wasn’t on the verge of discorporation, at the very least, though Aziraphale would wager Crowley’d complain she’d ‘die of boredom’ if only given the smidgen of the chance. She loved to complain and gripe, though hardly ever did anything to solve the apparent problem. “Why would I thwart my own wiles? That’s meant to be your job, innit?” She’d said once. 

There were three ways they typically executed witches. He visited all three sites and plotted. 

Trial by Water. This was the most common trial, and perhaps the only execution that could somehow be deemed a ‘trial.’ The accused would die either way, but there was the possibility of a posthumous decree of innocence. The witch was tied and thrown into the lake. They would either drown, proving their innocence, or they would survive, only to be convicted of witchcraft and hanged for it. 

Aziraphale eyed the docks of the nearby lake. They didn’t technically need to breathe, so perhaps Crowley could stay submerged long enough for the crowd to disperse and for Aziraphale to fetch her. 

Trial by Hanging. This wasn’t so much of a trial as it was a death sentence, plain and simple. The accused would be hanged for their supposed crimes. At the very least, it would be a swift death. 

Again, they didn’t technically need to breathe, but the rope might cause undue damage to Crowley’s throat or even decapitate her, and Aziraphale didn’t want to risk it. Though, if the rope frayed just so, and if it just so happened to snap… Aziraphale tucked away that idea for further review. 

Trial by Fire. It was less an execution than it was an act of theatre. A spectacle for those fully believed to be witches and to serve as a warning to others. A pyre of wood was lit aflame with the witch tied to a stake in its midst. 

Could he make it so the fire wouldn’t ignite? Or at the very least not harm Crowley? Their corporations were resilient, yes, but still mostly human. Fire would destroy her corporation all the same. 

Hellfire might not, though. 

——————

That afternoon, Aziraphale convinced General Bell the only way to send a demon back to Hell was with fire. Hell was often depicted as a fiery pit of sulfur and brimstone, after all, so it wasn’t too difficult to have the General come to this conclusion. The best lies always hold an element of truth, as Crowley had told him once. 

And so Aziraphale began to plan this spectacular escape. He couldn’t get too close to the Hellfire himself, else he meet a rather gruesome and permanent end, dooming them both in the process. He could remove the Miracle-dampening shackles, however, and tie a knot loose enough around her wrists to trick onlookers but be enough for Crowley to slip through. 

Now all he had to do was get down to Crowley’s cell and tell her of his plan! She would think his plan was genius!

“Full offence, Angel, your plan’s horrible.”

Or perhaps not. 

They bickered the point back and forth until it suddenly came to a screeching halt. 

“Why not!”

“Because it could destroy you!” Crowley bellowed. Aziraphale stared in stunned silence. “I’m not living in a world where I’m the reason you’re not.”

What could he possibly say to that? Aziraphale swallowed, “And the feeling is mutual.”

It didn’t take long before Aziraphale caved and brought the demon into his arms. She stiffened at the contact and the angel retreated, fearing having hurt her, but she ignored his concerns and leaned into the hug. He allowed himself this moment. They would figure things out. They would be okay in the end. He mustered up enough self-control to stand and leave the cell with a promise of wine tomorrow night. 

——————

The rising sun was met with cheerful birdsong, unbeknownst to Aziraphale’s emotional turmoil. A pyre was being set up while other people went about their everyday lives as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Aziraphale felt sick to his stomach. 

Soon enough, a band of people strode forward with two people in tow, one of which being Crowley. She still had the Miracle-dampening shackles on and a gag in place, looking worse for wear. Three days chained to a cold, hard floor hadn’t done the demon any favours. She looked as if she hadn’t slept the entire time if the half-lidded eyes and sluggish movements were anything to go by. Or that could just be the old wounds reopening from the unusual movements after being mostly stationary. Aziraphale, not for the first time, felt a tug of regret. He shouldn’t have ever gotten them tangled up in this mess. A torch was lit aflame and Aziraphale took a stabilizing breath as Crowley was led to…

The docks?

What?

Aziraphale was about to question the purpose of the pyre when he took notice of the second person being brought to trial. 

Doctor John Davis stepped up and was tied to the stake.

“Hang on just one moment! This isn’t what we discussed!” Aziraphale exclaimed and strode over to General Bell. “We said Crowley would have a Trial by Fire! Whatever happened to that?”

Bell nodded, “I understand your confusion. I do appreciate your valiant effort to help the cause, but the more I thought over your words, I realized that if you want something done right, you’ll see it done yourself.”

Aziraphale gaped, “what about the doctor? Where does he get involved in this?”

“He confessed to being a witch in exchange for his daughter’s life,” Bell answered. 

“This is– this is a right outrage! We had a deal!”

“No, Brother Fell, I don’t believe we did,” Bell chided. “I asked for your advice, which you gave. I never said I would do what you said.” Aziraphale was struck with the thought that Gabriel and Nicholas Bell might get along splendidly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have a Trial to get started.”

Bell nodded toward the man holding the torch. The man pulled away Davis’ gag and asked, “Any last remarks?”

Davis took a deep breath and spoke, “I only hope my wife will be there to catch me should I fall for my sins and that God will forgive me for my trespasses.” 

Aziraphale sent a quiet Blessing his way. 

Bell nodded toward the man holding Crowley and removed her gag. “Any last remarks?”

Crowley licked her lips and wrinkled her nose in disgust, “yeah, no. I’ve already done the whole ‘Fall for my sins’ bit. Not a fan. But really? This entire charade has been something Hastur would love to hear about. In fact, I think I’ll introduce you to him personally.” At that, Crowley levelled Bell with an impressive demonic glare, which really wasn’t helping her current allegations. 

“That is all then,” Bell started. “I hereby sentence Doctor Davis to burn at the stake and the demon Crowley to be cleansed by holy water.”

Angel and demon looked up in utmost alarm. “I beg your pardon?!” Aziraphale all but shouted. 

Bell exhaled heavily and cast Aziraphale an annoyed glance, “Yes, Brother Fell? Are you in objection to my using the verses you gave me specifically for if a demon should come across my path to God’s Light?”

Aziraphale huffed, “Well I didn’t mean for it to be this particular demon.”

The Witch Hunter caught onto his wording like a hound to a fox’s scent, “Be careful how you speak. You being a minister doesn’t give you any protection from the righteous flames of the pyre.”

Crowley struggled in the man’s hold, “Oi, watch it!” She spat even as the man tightened the ropes. 

“I’m growing tired of these interruptions,” Bell seethed and raised a hand, “benedic aquas has in nomine angeli!”

Aziraphale saw the way Crowley instinctively shied away from the water despite not feeling the effects himself. “So that’s it then?” Crowley asked the Hunter. “You tie me up and throw me in just to die either way. I’ll sink or swim.”

Bell hummed, “‘Sink or Swim’ you say? I like that. I think I’ll use that.” At Crowley’s indignant scoff, the Hunter looked out across the gathering crowd. “Light the fire. Throw her in.”

Aziraphale and Crowley screamed as one as the demon’s back hit the water. 

[jadevalentine-writes]

Living in Sin - Chapter 8 - Good Omens Season 2 Roommates AU - NOW AVAILABLE ON AO3!

Read it on AO3 here. Read it from the beginning here.

Chapter Preview:

Crowley was one-hundred percent convinced that grocery car parks were one of Hell’s many inventions. Driving in London was always challenging so really Crowley should have tempered his expectations if he thought a small area jammed with cars, people, and those blasted grocery carts would bring out the best in humanity.  Crowley spent almost a half hour inching along the pavement aisles attempting to find a suitable parking spot for his beloved Bentley. Aziraphale would gently point out a spot and Crowley would make his approach only to be beaten out by parents’ Tokyo drifting their minivans into the sighted parking spot at the last second. He let them know just how he felt by blaring his horn and stringing together creative curses that had parents’ jaws dropping in horror and their kids’ jaws dropping in admiration.  After his outburst, Aziraphale would gently pat his arm and point out another open spot and the process would start all over again.  Finally, Crowley’s patience extinguished and he drove to a corner of the lot and discreetly miracled a parking spot. He turned the Bentley into it sharply and flipped off a minivan as it zoomed past behind them.  “Fuck off!” he shouted as he flung open the door. Apparently a man shouting obscenities was commonplace at the grocery and barely anyone turned in his direction.  “Really, dear,” Aziraphale chided softly as he straightened his waistcoat, “was that necessary?” Crowley growled and snapped his fingers to place an anti-cart ward on the Bentley. Like heaven was he going to stand seeing her damaged by someone’s carelessness to return a cart.  “Let’s go,” he snapped as he sauntered towards the grocery entrance. If Crowley thought the car park was a hellish invention, then he could argue that the grocery itself was the tenth circle of hell.

Also never done this before but...@goodomensafterdark !

[aziraphales-library]

Hello! First off I want to say this is one of my favorite tumblr blogs out there :) I’m sure it’s a lot of work but it definitely pays off with how easy it is to find a fic on here! I love the work you all do.

I’ve perused the #crowley’s-eyes fics quite a bit and am looking for more— specifically relating to Crowley having trouble with his vision. I have vision issues myself and it makes me happy to see that aspect in my favorite character.

Thank you in advance! 🫶❤️

Hi! Yes, we have quite a few posts on our #crowley's eyes tag. Here are some more recent fics to add...

Snake Eyes by DrHuggles_j (G)

It's difficult to keep from your book-loving angelic counterpart that Crowley, in fact, cannot read words that small on a page. Sure, he can read and write, but human text has a tendency to evade him at times, opting to guess or simply miracle the text to a readable size. He's kept the secret for this long, what's for the rest of eternity?

Your Eyes Hold the Stars by ForrestToffee (G)

When he fell Crowley was cursed with snake eyes. And sure, it made the first several couple millennia a little challenging until glasses were invented. But he didn’t really know what he was missing. But fast forward six thousand years, and fooling Heaven and Hell with their little body swap scheme unexpectedly gave Crowley the opportunity to see the world as it was meant to be seen. OR Crowley gets the opportunity to see his stars as they were always meant to be seen.

until the stars fall from the sky by theivytree (T)

The stars have always been one of Aziraphale’s favorite things about the universe. Millions of stars, thousands of planets, so expansive and beautiful. He remembers being in space, watching the nebula burst in an array of colors the angel had never seen before. Gorgeous was the only way it could be described in Earthly words. Or; Aziraphale and Crowley go stargazing on two separate occasions.

Bright as his eyes by HenlyesTales (G)

"What do you mean?". Crowley shrugged "Heaven destroyed most of them when I fell" Aziraphale stared at Crowley for a few seconds, "Crowley they’re all- they’re all here. Heaven didn’t touch your stars". -Or- Crowley and Aziraphale meet again in 35 AD, go on a walk together and Crowley realizes how much his snake eyes affect him.

Snake Eyes by Strummer_Pinks (NR)

Aziraphale pines over Crowley, unable to voice his true feelings for his friend. In other news, Aziraphale doesn't realize that having snake eyes, Crowley can't see in colour. Insanity at a sushi restaurant ensues.

The Crowley Collection by OverlookBrooke (M)

Aziraphale wasn’t an idiot. He knew Crowley enjoyed James Bond and botany and old cars. There were so many wonderful novels on these topics—Crowley really ought to try reading once and a while. (He could definitely learn to enjoy his hobbies and interests even better if he dug his nose into a book every now and then!) Aziraphale had to wonder, why wouldn’t he read? No matter. If he didn’t want to read, Aziraphale would collect books for him. Just in case he wanted to. No other reason. Right?

- Mod D

[victorluvsalice]

Merry Christmas Ace!

@ace-of-tales You asked for Aziraphale and Crowley from Good Omens visiting Secundus, as you thought Aziraphale in particular would like all the inventions there...and then I mentioned him getting a taste of the March Hare's tarts, and you were like "YES THAT." XD So here that is! Hope you like!

--

“Oh, these – these are absolutely amazing! Crowley, you have to try some!”

Alice did her best to stifle a laugh as she watched one half of the newest pair at the tea table go to absolute town on the March Hare’s tarts. “I take it you’re pleased with the vittles on offer?” she commented, leaning on her elbow.

“I think it’s safe to say this is now his favorite part of our trip here,” Crowley replied, grinning at his partner over an untouched cup of tea. “Always been a bit weak for good food, haven’t you?”

Aziraphale shot him a playfully-scolding look. “It’s your fault,” he declared once his mouth was empty. “You’re the one who introduced me to it.”

“Yessss,” Crowley said, smirking back. “Best bit of temptation I ever did.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “I won’t argue with that.” He grinned over at the March Hare. “Genuinely, these are absolutely fantastic. I thought Jane Austen’s tarts were delectable, but these – ! Oh, you can simply taste the love.”

“I make every batch with as much love – and strawberries – as I can fit in them,” March said, beaming back and bouncing in his chair. “Delighted to hear they pass muster! Though not mustard. That’d be horrible.”

“It would,” Victor agreed with a little laugh.

“Oh, indeed – but instead, now you can tell everyone who comes by that your tarts are truly heavenly,” Richard added, giving March a nudge and a theatrical wink.

“Oh, I’m sure they’re much better than that,” Crowley said, picking up a tart and examining it. “You lot are a lot more – creative than Heaven or Hell. Part of the reason Aziraphale and I were so keen on sticking around on Earth – that and avoiding all the nonsense Upstairs and Down. Humans make some fascinating things, when they put their minds to it.”

“I’m a hare,” March pointed out, pulling up his ears for emphasis.

“I think he’s using ‘human’ to mean sapient creatures as a whole,” Alice said, patting his head. “After all, it doesn’t sound like they have anything like you, Dormy, or Cheshire where they come from.”

“Not that I’ve seen – our world is quite sadly lacking in intelligent animals with stupendous baking skills,” Aziraphale confirmed. “I don’t believe we have anyone quite like your ‘Touched’ either, which is a shame. Some of the inventions you have around here are fantastic – that clock tower, for instance, with the giant bird coming out of it on the hour. Most amusing!”

“Oh, Cuckoo Ben? That nearly scared the life out of me when I first heard it go off,” Victor admitted, grinning. “But it is funny, once you get used to it.”

“Me, I liked that motorized bicycle we saw the other day,” Crowley said, with a sharp-toothed grin. “The one that fellow was bragging could outrun any horse. Reminded me of the Bentley, the way he was zipping around. I could something like that while we’re in the city. Get us places a lot faster than that carriage we rented.”

“I’m – I’m rather content with the speed at which our horses move,” Aziraphale said, grinning nervously. “And that demonstration did end with the inventor going straight into a wall. I had to, ah, assist slightly in making sure he didn’t end up in the morgue.”

“I noticed – though I don’t know if you really had to,” Crowley pointed out. “Based on what we’ve heard, these folks could have just shocked him back again.” He frowned, turning his tart over in his hands. “Which – does feel like it should be causing more of a fuss on both our ends. Hell doesn’t like a sinner escaping.”

“And Heaven would be rather cross about the population going down,” Aziraphale agreed. “But I don’t know much about the local theology.”

“We’re still trying to figure that out ourselves,” Richard told them. “The recently undeceased don’t tend to remember much about their time on the other side. What little we’ve gotten out of them makes it sound like everybody gets chucked into a waiting room first.”

“Mmm – meaning the local versions of Heaven and Hell might have already compensated for our propensity for bring people back to life by not letting anyone in until they’re sure they’re dead,” Alice added.

“Maybe,” Crowley shrugged, and took an experimental bite of tart. “Not like I’m going to – oh.”

He stopped, blinking behind his sunglasses. “Oh wow,” he continued, sounding lightly stunned. “This is good.”

“What did I tell you?” Aziraphale chuckled. “Congratulations Mr. Hare – you’ve won over the agents of both Heaven and Hell with your cookery.”

“Excellent – though it does feel like those should cancel each other out,” March noted, rubbing his chin. “Guess we won’t know until I die, though! And get past the waiting room.”

“Which hopefully won’t be for a long, long time,” Alice said, patting his head. “Anyway – is there anything else you two wanted to see while you’re visiting?

“Well...” Aziraphale grinned. “I did hear something about a restaurant where the food literally rains down from the sky...”

[geekthefreakout]

So, I've been having this thought.

Crowley, perhaps post-bookshop divorce, is sitting in a pub or a coffee shop and the server calls his name, but they say it wrong.

They pronounce it like with the "ow" sound, like in Supernatural. And Crowley, mildly miffed, is like "where did you get that from?"

And the server is a Supernatural fan and explains that there's a demon named Crowley-like-owl-not-crow who helps stop the apocalypse.

And Crowley is like "imagine that. That's weird. Say more."

And the server explains a bit. How SPN!Crowley is this demon who is aware that should the big fight happen, he won't be counted among the winners regardless of which way it goes, and he just wants the world to keep on as it is, so he joins forces with the Winchesters and their renegade angel to stop it. He becomes King of Hell after to fill the power vacuum (and here GO!Crowley gives a bitter scoff) and he is both a villain and a hero and sometimes neither of those things.

Crowley inquires more about the angel, Castiel, and the server enthusiastically describes him. They remark that Crowley(spn) and Castiel have a fun dynamic, because they hate each other but also have to work together, because they're in love.

Crowley looks dumbfounded, and of course the server can't know why, but they do clarify that they are in love with Dean, not each other. Dean being a stand-in for humanity, of course, which is how the show runners wanted you to see it.

"But then at the end they FINALLY let Cas be all the way gay for Dean. Like, a decade of subtext and queer baiting denial, and FINALLY with 2 episodes left in the whole show, they let Cas tell Dean that he cares about humanity because he cares about Dean. Like, he actually gets to tell him he's in love with him."

A pause.

"Well, and then he gets sucked directly to Turbo Hell, so. That sucked. It went canon in THE most homophobic way possible, which is kind of on brand for the show--"

"Turbo hell?????? What is that, the tenth circle?"

"Oh, the place that angels and demons go when they die. The Empty. They don't get an afterlife, they just sleep forever and dream about the bad stuff. It's pretty awful, but Cas gets rescued from their off screen by the end so at least that's something-"

"What about the demon?"

"Oh, Crowley-like-owl? He got killed off for good at the end of season 12."

Crowley-like-crow stares through his sunglasses and the server elaborates again. For some reason, they haven't been called to other tables for anything the entire time they've been speaking.

"It was a good death, I think. He died to save the boys and trap Lucifer in another dimension- it's complicated. But he got to say that he actually hated being King of Hell, and he hated Lucifer, and he got to go out on a good deed. I think the actor was tired of the writers playing around with the character's arc. Walking back development, never committing to what they wanted to do with him... And that led to Crowley being kinda inconsistent and underappreciated. So he asked to be killed off and he walked away from the show."

"Huh. Shame, that."

"Yeah, everyone missed him. There are some characters that I REALLY wish he'd gotten to meet. And I also wish that he got a little more love."

"He was a demon. Love's not exactly in their repertoire."

"It's not supposed to be. It was, though. Cas practically invented free will because he loved Dean. And I guess Crowley also didn't fit into the mold God had set for him, either."

"I suppose God's Plan is... Ineffable in the show."

"I mean. Kinda at first? But the last season God is fully the bad guy."

"WHAT??"

Anyway, Crowley watches Supernatural and has no idea if he hates it or not. He probably does. But somehow, Crowley-like-owl and Castiel and their often unappreciative charges make his heart ache. He deliberately notes all the ways that Castiel is nothing like Aziraphale, thank you very much. He supposes he's glad that Adam never turned either of them into action figures.

He watches and he tries not to wish Aziraphale was watching with him.

[kill-the-hand-of-shakespeare]

“Unknown”

7

———————

Aziraphale took a deep breath, and cleared his throat. He pulled at the hem of his waistcoat, and then cleared his throat again. He searched the bookshop with flittering eyes- trying to find solace in ‘home’. He did not.

He knew every little detail of this bookshop. It was his, and he had seen every millimetre of it. He knew it better than his own corporation. But now, after months being gone, it felt... odd. Like he was a guest in his own home- like he knew it all too well, but didn’t have the right to it. He guessed that’s what humans must have felt when they sold a home or left a job and came back- like it is no longer theirs, but was so wholly before.

He smoothed the off-white fabric on his thighs, partly because he hadn’t before he sat down, and in part to wipe the sweat that gathered on his palms. Nervous - a rock sat heavy in the bottom of his stomach and his searching eyes found Crowley’s profile.

The demon was doing that ‘thing’ - Aziraphale hadn’t come up with a name for it, but Crowley used to do it before he wore (invented?) glasses.

He found a far off object to look at, squinted his eyes a little and made them unfocused- a far away look that hid all the emotion he could without hiding behind shades of black. The Angel had once thought that the glasses were simply to hide his snake-like eyes from humans. He’d been so oblivious. Those gold eyes held so much of Crowley’s thoughts- the glasses were there to keep him stone cold, unreadable to the world.

Aziraphale bit the inside of his cheek, and turned to face Crowley a bit more- knocking their knees together. Both him and Crowley quickly yelped apologies out of anxious habit, and Aziraphale had half a mind to pull his knee away. But that was quickly overcome by the need to be close. To touch. It had been so long since he had been in someones bubble after eons of constant closeness.

Heaven was stoic. Cold. Everyone kept to themselves, hands clasped tightly behind their backs, crossed fingers hidden as they spoke. Their smiles never reached their eyes. The lower ranked angels were sweet, but never had time to chat- busy bees doing their work. It left Aziraphale’s palms itchy- he had learned to touch Crowley so easily...

Aziraphale stared at their knees for a moment, Crowley’s hands in his lap, nails digging crescent indents into the skin. He wanted to slide his palm against the demons, smooth away the hurt, relax him and comfort him, but didn’t know how. He didn’t know if he was allowed.

Aziraphale was a bad Angel. Or maybe a good one- he couldn’t tell; he was just really damn good at playing stupid. Being around Crowley had become easy, the more comfortable he had pretended he was, the more comfortable he actually ended up being. What was that human saying again? Oh yes- “fake it until you make it.” The Angel was good at that.

He would be able to read just about anyone, Angel, demon, human or... otherwise, and quickly give them what they wanted. Crowley included.

If this was ‘before’, when things were simple and they tip-toed around each other and their only intimacy was loving glances. Aziraphale would have said something random, and then gently took Crowley’s hand into his own and patted it, forcing his hand to relax. The demon always lounged, but now he sat too tense, even as he slouched with bad posture. The Angel wished he could think up a way to relax him- but everything was a subtle touch, and they were both too aware of each other to play dumb. Even the legs that lingered close were tense with precaution.

Aziraphale cleared his throat again and watched Crowley’s jaw tense in a flinch, it broke his heart.

“Oh, Crowley...” he whispered softly, the demon closing his eyes tight, swallowing hard. Aziraphale could tell hearing his name from the Angels lips hurt. “I had so much time to think about all the things I would say... But now they all feel... As if they’re not enough.” Aziraphale said, hearing the strain in his own voice. He couldn’t hide it. And didn’t know if he wanted to.

“Well, if you have nothing to say, I have things I could be doing.” The demon snapped, trying to be aggressive, but his heart wasn’t in it- it was to deflect; to try and rid of his own feelings and thoughts. The fact that the demon did not move away, said so much. He had learnt to read Crowley’s body language like any of his books, carefully and meticulously, paying attention to what was unsaid; in between the lines. Aziraphale took a deep breath. He would say what he needed to.

“Crowley,” he started, “I don’t forgive you.”

———————

Anni oop-!

Sorry for the long wait for an update, the holidays and some personal things got in the way. Enjoy this cliffhanger, and feel free to leave predictions 😈 I’d love to see what ya’ll think!

Lots of love, tho. I won’t hurt you... too bad.

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