#For one of their classes Crowley and Aziraphale get paired together and they realize they have a lot in common.

[obsessedobsesser]

Okay but here's another crack fic prompt

Good Omens Sky High AU

[beastsovrevelation]

Reasons why I motivate myself to work on my Good Omens fanfictions:

So I can take a certain hyper popular ship everyone loves, but I despise, and tear it apart, smash it with a hammer, and set it on fire for my own entertainment. 😊 It's not like someone will do it for me.

I would say because Lady!Crowley deserves more love, but horrific things happen to her, so, I'd be a hypocrite (spoiler alert, she's fine in the end).

Anathema and Newt's family keep a raccoon named Shovels, that they dye black, and pretend is a cat.

I have four ideas put down, so far. One's an actual detective story. Two of them are crossovers with... Legion, of all things (one came to me in a dream). All involve my Antichrist OC, who wasn't supposed to have anything to do with the GO universe, until I had that damn dream.

Another motivatior - so I can work with Maxine (the Antichrist OC) more. After a long consideration, I decided to pair her up with War (in non-crossovers, in those she's with Michael), which is problematic because they're cousins (War's mother is Satan's sister)... You know, whatever. Nobody from Earth knows. It isn't anything uncommon for royalty, either. 🤣 Besides, they're both women (offspring from donors, so no biological threats), and they didn't grow up together. I just... I adore my Antichrists. They're everything to me. Max, forgive me for getting you involved in this madness of an universe, the fanfiction gods compelled me.

Honestly, my other OCs, too. Max's best friend, Cthylla (daughter of Dagon, and... You can guess. He has a habit of oversleeping), her cat Squid, Madonna Maria (a literal jackal with vile temper and a fondness for whiskey, Maxine's biological mother;), Titan the Hellhound, Agnes Device-Pulsifer, Francisco Rossi (the Second Beast, who loathes Aziraphale even more than I do, for absollutely no reason)...

Off with Pollution, Pestilence is being reinstated to his rightful place.

I'm eager to work with canon characters like War, Michael (Legion and GO version), and Hastur - all of who, I adore

I am kind of a hater in this fandom. In the end, I've realized, fanfiction must be written for oneself, not the fandom. I will not apologize for doing what I want, with characters (and their genders) in a fic. Nor for heavily focusing on my OCs (even making them the main focus - it's something that I love doing).

The only thing I do feel some guilt for? I remember Neil Gaiman saying he likes stories where women saves themselves, which I completely agree with, yet Lady Crowley gets saved by others, most of the times... I guess, she's just in situations nobody could save themselves from. Now, her healing is another can of worms maybe that could be counted as her saving herself).

Oh... I hope no one who reads this took it as me attacking them, or mocking them, for liking what I don't. I kind of sounded like someone's evil grandma, threatening to throw their favorite toys in the trash can. 🤣 I'm just writing down my thoughts in an edgy manner. Think of this as a literal angsty, but hopeful diary page.

When I said I'm a "hater", I meant I personally have a very odd, unconventional relationship with Good Omens and it's characters. It's a... "I don't like how you're portraying biblical mythology, but I will always love you". I love Neil Gaiman. I don't know anyone im the fandom anymore, but I all the hearts to them, too. I'm just the designated class contrarian. My stories, like all fanfiction, are seperate universes from canon (and I mean no disrespect to it; the fanfiction wouldn't be here if canon wasn't).

Why do I keep hurting Crowley? I don't know, my relationship with the character is very complicated also. I find him annoying, but I named my stuffed snake after him. 🐍

Why did I write this down and post it? Because I've noticed I'm more likely to get something done after I get on a barrel, and anounce I will. These stories are so fun to write... Fine, that was kind of a lie. I'm picking at Ch. 1 of the dream storyline, and it makes me want to cry.

P.S. - I didn't see season 2, and I have no intention to (though my mom is badgering me to watch it; she's also scolding me for hurting Crowley).

[goodomenslady]

Update for May 28, 2024 (yes, it really has been that long since the last update) All fics rated E, please mind the tags, a couple of them have darker themes.

Waking Up Married by @caedmonfaith (29 chapters. wordcount 92,991) https://archiveofourown.org/works/37704184. Human AU. After a wild night in Vegas, Crowley wakes up married to the sweetest man in existence. Now he just has to convince Aziraphale to stay married until Crowley gets his inheritance.

Red as Fire, Bright as Gold by @tawnyontumblr (9 chapters, wordcount 26,339) https://archiveofourown.org/works/36631882. This is the human-shapeshifting dragon-omegaverse fic you didn't know you needed. Aziraphale is a gold dragon held captive by the powerful silvers, but the one he truly loves is Crowley. Together, they just might find a way to win Aziraphale's freedom.

Between a Book and a Hard Place by @janara7 (6 chapters, wordcount 29,361) https://archiveofourown.org/works/53594497. Human AU. Aziraphale secretly writes erotica. Crowley is a voice actor with an exquisitely sinful voice who works under a pseudonym, and he's been hired to narrate Aziraphale's latest novel.

Out of the Woods by @tawnyontumblr (8 chapters, wordcount 18,973) https://archiveofourown.org/works/53572333. Human omegaverse AU. Omega-rights lawyer Aziraphale (himself an omega) joins an exclusive sex club so he won't be alone for his next heat. He's paired with alpha Crowley, who's determined to give him whatever he wants.

The Hard Lines by AnOminous (3 chapters, wordcount 6,747) https://archiveofourown.org/works/41558913. Dark Crowley. Aziraphale is Crowley's perfect little plaything. Satan has decided to punish Crowley by striking at his beloved angel.

handsome enough to tempt me by @phoenix-soar (2 chapters, wordcount 13,671) https://archiveofourown.org/works/52424758. Human AU. University student Aziraphale has a secret crush on another student, Crowley. When he discovers that Crowley is actually a lecturer in one of Aziraphale's classes, the situation becomes decidedly more complicated.

Strictly Business by MrsCaulfield (12/13 chapters, WIP. wordcount 51,795) https://archiveofourown.org/works/37409623. Human AU. Features personal assistant Aziraphale and his boss Crowley, and what happens when they cross the line. Part of the 'Taboo Romances' series.

Bargain by @unproblematicme (2 chapters, wordcount 5,641) https://archiveofourown.org/works/25940047 Aziraphale has been living with an order of monks. When his peace is shattered rather dramatically by an attack from Crowley, it appears that making a bargain with the demon is the only way to save the monastery's treasure.

give ourselves one more chance by crowleyscardigan (2 chapters, wordcount 9,164) https://archiveofourown.org/works/53078185. A sizzling what-happened-after-the-wall-slam fic, where Aziraphale, with Armageddon looming, decides to take a chance.

Echo by snae_b (16 chapters, wordcount 51,851) https://archiveofourown.org/works/35292958. Human coffee shop science fiction AU, featuring the boys in a dystopian future. Aziraphale and Crowley are on the low end of the social ladder trapped in menial jobs, but they're more trapped than they realize.

Romeo in Black Jeans by @caedmonfaith (18 chapters, wordcount 67,510) https://archiveofourown.org/works/50779519 Human AU. It's love at first sight for fashion designer Crowley, when he spots a beautiful man at a friend's show. Aziraphale may not be on the runway, but he's just what Crowley's looking for.

Multichapter Masterlist

A request on discord led me to realize that while there are a great many one-shots with topCrowley/bottomAziraphale, finding multichapter fics is more challenging. Hence this post. I’ll reblog and add on to the list as time goes on, and they’ll probably all be rated E, with a few rated M.

This post could become rather long and unwieldy as I reblog it with the additions, so I’ll put them under cuts.

Keep reading

[lazydoodlesandfanfic]

Workload (Crowley X Fem!Reader X Aziraphale)

Characters: Crowley X Fem!Reader X Aziraphale

Universe: Good Omens

Warnings: Not eating, stress

Request: I love Gopd Omens! Would you write a Crowley x reader x Aliraphel? The reader is in love with both of the dorks and in a relationship. However those two become concerned when the reader is restless, looses weight and stressed. Until they realize that the reader started teaching chemistry and physic classes in school while still studying. So her husbands try to help her. Perhaps zhey make everything worse who knows..? XD

“Alright, I’m off, I’ll call you when lunch starts.” You told the pair you were with, giving a kiss to Aziraphale on the side of the lips and a peck to Crowley before you rushed out the door, like you did almost every morning. 

“...She hasn’t touched her breakfast again.” Aziraphale immediately mentioned, and Crowley frowned at his comment. “Am I overreacting? I know she’s busy a lot but…” 

“No, you’re not… she isn’t herself.” Crowley confirmed. “She’s not sleeping well either, and she’s always working on something…” 

“Yes, I’ve noticed that as well…” The angel agreed, starting to lightly pace. Crowley huffed, putting his hands in his pocket. 

“There must be something more to it… she was fine till a few weeks ago…” 

“What if she’s struggling? O-or maybe someone is causing her trouble?” 

“If someone is doing that, then they won’t be for long.” Crowley assured him. “I’ll have a sniff around.” He concluded. Aziraphale nodded with a sigh, and Crowley left to start his own investigation, and Aziraphale decided that he’d ask your tutors if things were alright with you there. They knew him very well- he called at least once a month to ask permission to drop in and give you a treat as well done for all your hard work or to drop off your lunch that you forgot. He didn’t like to interfere with your studies, and he made sure Crowley didn’t cause any miracles to boost your scores, knowing you’d be angry with them if they did. You wanted to get them fair and square, and Aziraphale was proud of you for it.

It was through your studies that you had met Aziraphale and Crowley in the first place. It was your first semester and you were determined to set an impression and had come to his bookshop asking about anything to do with chemistry and physics. He explained the books weren’t really for sale, and you instead asked if you could study in his bookshop, and he allowed it. You spent hours a week there, working your ass off, so it was… inevitable, that one day when there, Crowley would be there too. He’d been bored and asked what you were reading while waiting for Aziraphale to finish up, and by the time he was ready, Crowley was too busy listening to you to pay attention to his angel. It wasn’t long before they confronted each other for their shared attraction to you, and it was Crowley who asked you if you’d like to join them to the Ritz, Aziraphale being too scared of making it awkward to do it himself. Everything fit together perfectly after that. Though you weren’t actually married to them, you referenced them as your husbands and they called you their wife. 

He had your tutor’s phone number memorised by this point, and he put it into the phone quickly and waited patiently for an answer. As he was hearing your tutor say hello, Crowley was already nearly at your campus, ready to find answers, and if those answers were people making his wife’s life harder than it already is…

He waited for your arrival, seeing you get out, and almost immediately met with a tutor that he’d met once- it was your chemistry tutor, and he watched him hand a folder to you, and you nod your head before rushing off… it took a second for Crowley to realise why he recognised that colour of folder… it was one that all the tutors had. It had class work in it. Lesson plans. Student grades and development…

Crowley burst through the doors of the bookshop, about to explain what he found, when he saw Aziraphale on the phone, seeming to be having a serious conversation. “Yes… thank you, that’s very helpful, goodbye.” Aziraphale soon spoke, hanging up the phone. “I assume you’ve come to the same conclusion as me?” 

“That our wife has been teaching lessons to get extra credit?” Crowley asked and Aziraphel nodded. “She’s not going to listen to us if we tell her it’s better for her health if she drops it, is she?” He questioned, making Aziraphale chuckle, shaking his head, before a lightbulb went off in his head. “What?” Crowley asked, seeing the… devilish smirk arise on the angel’s lips. 

“Well… what do you say to being good for the better health of our wife?” He suggested.

Your day on campus finally came to an end, and you were about to call Aziraphale to let him know you were on your way home, when you heard the familiar sound of the Bentley approaching, and soon enough it was parked in front of the main building that you had just left. Aziraphale leant forward and waved at you with a silly smile from the passenger side. “Come on then!” Crowley called, nodding his head to the back of the car. You smiled, rushing and getting in the back of the old car, Crowley quickly pulling away. 

“I hope you’ve not worked yourself too hard… have you eaten?” Aziraphale asked, turning to see you, and Crowley glanced in the mirror, both seeing you freeze and silently curse to yourself. “Oh dear. You didn’t eat this morning either… well we can’t have that now, can we?” He commented. “How does the Ritz sound?” 

“I… I’ve got work to do…” You tried to explain. 

“No, that’s between 6 and 8. It’s 5 now, so you have an hour to eat, and then after work time you’re taking a long hot bath, and then you’re going to sleep.” Crowley instructed. You creased your eyebrows at him. 

“I have a bedtime?” 

“No, you have a schedule. Some structure.” Crowley responded.

“It’s just that we’ve noticed that… you've been looking after yourself, sweetie. You’ve been losing sleep and you haven’t been sleeping well and… well, a schedule will help with that. You don’t have to follow it precisely, but it should help.” Aziraphale explained. “We know you’ve been teaching lessons as well as taking lessons and… we just want you to be healthy, if your not it might affect your progress.” He fussed. He nearly jumped when you wrapped an arm around them both from the backseat, it handing over their shoulders, and you kissed both of their cheeks. 

“How did I get so lucky to have such caring husbands?” You questions, being answered with silly, proud smiles on their faces.

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in! 

*Not my gif

TAGS: @courtneychicken​  @graysonmalfoy​ @bellero​ @originalpottervengerlock​ @supernatural-pan​ @esoltis280​ @lena-stan-xavier​ @lady-of-lies​ @sebstanismylife​ @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980​ @cdwmtjb8​ @caswinchester2000​ @determinedpines​

[wanderingalicewrites]

So Much Discounted - Chapter 12

Genesis V

(Also on AO3)

Aziraphale started walking again, the creature flowing along beside him at knee height. As he did so, he contemplated the coin Mischief had thrown him. One side had a squiggle that looked vaguely like a snake, or like Crowley’s tattoo. The other side held a pair of wings - one etched into the gold, the other raised out of it, providing a contrast reminiscent of light and dark. “I wonder…” he tried to chip the gold with a fingernail, and didn’t make a dent. Then he sniffed it, and frowned.

“What do you think?” he asked the creature, which buzzed at him in confusion. “I think…” he reached into his pocket, and brought out his ring. The creature hissed, drawing back from Aziraphale at the sight of it.

“Don’t worry,” he told it. “I’m not going to let it touch you.” He held the coin up to the ring. And there, he could feel it. The coin was made of gold laced with infernal power, just as his ring was forged with ethereal light. “Hmm.” His frown deepened. “I shouldn’t be able to touch this,” he observed, examining his fingers. The wounds he should have felt the instant infernal metal touched his skin were not there. “Why isn’t it burning me?”

“It’s because you’re inside a demon’s soul,” a voice said, causing Aziraphale to jump. An aspect of Crowley lounged against a tree several feet ahead, watching him approach with eyes more brown than gold. Aziraphale hadn’t even noticed him until he spoke.

“You’re protected,” he said, standing and coming closer. The creature hummed, and he nodded gesturing to it. “That one there shouldn’t exist, but it’s the reason you can stand here at all. Its presence keeps you safe from the infernal nature of our soul, and protects you from things like that coin. Now me, on the other hand…”

Before Aziraphale could react, the aspect leaned over and snatched the celestial ring from his hand. He grinned at the angel’s frightened expression, and slipped the ring on his own finger. “See that? I’m protected by your will.” He took off the ring and dropped it back into Aziraphale’s hand. “This is a place of soul, and will, and being. It only exists because my will to survive was so strong. And you’re only here because your desire to save me is equally as strong. It’s all rather fascinating, isn’t it?”

“I, ah-” Aziraphale blinked at him, thrown off by his abrupt manner as much as his words or the eyes he could now see were just as human - or angelic - as Curiosity’s.

The aspect laughed. “Well now. Aren’t you glad to see me? You’re supposed to be looking for me, you know. I think I did very well holding myself together as much as I have. Only eight pieces, really. Well, and the big guy, but he doesn’t really count.” He took the mirror from Aziraphale’s hands and tapped the five remaining circles, one after the other.

“Give that back.” Aziraphale snatched the mirror from him, while the creature chattered and buzzed - seeming to reprimand him for his rudeness.

“Ah, apologies. I haven’t even introduced myself, have I?” He sketched a quick bow and shot the angel a cocky grin. “Pride, at your service.”

“Pride! I should have known.” Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “Just like Crowley to have Pride as one of his main aspects.”

“Well, he is a demon. You can’t expect him to have only the one real sin. Rage is well enough as the seven deadlies go, but we have always been partial to Pride.” Pride grinned. “Come on then, let me show you more of what I’ve made here. I heard you talking to Rage. You’re trying to put us back together. You should see a little more of what you’re repairing before you finish.”

He turned, beckoning Aziraphale to follow. “Bring your friend there. It’s just as important as the rest of us. It should have a chance to see the beauty of Eden.”

“Well.” Aziraphale looked between the creature and Pride’s retreating back, before shrugging at hurrying to catch up with the aspect.

“Wouldn’t it have seen Eden when Crowley was really there?” he asked, hoping to learn a bit more about his strange companion. “It is also part of you, is it not?”

Pride laughed and shook his head. “Nah. That poor thing didn’t exist back then. Or else it was just a tiny little spark. Sure it’s a part of us, but not all of us were around at Creation, yeah?” He smiled smugly, clearly proud of his ability to add bits to his personality. “Show me an angel -yourself excepted, of course - who can say that!”

“Of- of course.” Aziraphale frowned. Himself excepted? He was fairly certain he was still at his core the same angel he had been back in Eden. Angels weren’t built to change as easily as humans, after all. Perhaps some of his personality had shifted, but he doubted he had changed enough to have created any additional aspects. Before he had a chance to ask any questions however, Pride pushed through some greenery hanging above the path, then stopped.

“And here we are!” He spun, throwing out his arms to indicate the entirety of a large clearing within the forest. Aziraphale stopped, and gasped in wonder. While there was no part of Eden that was not beautiful, this particular clearing was… spectacular. Trees and bushes had been artfully placed amid hundreds of brilliant flowers. The stream that had been faithfully flowing beside the path bubbled in tiny waterfalls into a series of rock pools along one side of the clearing, while the other was bordered by the greenest grass Aziraphale had ever seen.

“Oh, Crowley, it’s beautiful!” Aziraphale stared in awe. It really was the most beautiful piece of Eden he had ever seen, and he had spent years before the war in Heaven guarding the garden, walking its paths until he knew it like he knew the back of his hand.

“Yeah.” Pride grinned. “I did do a good job, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Aziraphale agreed. “Very much so.” The creature at his side hummed in agreement.

“Well then, we should enjoy it while it lasts.” The edge of his grin turned a little ragged, and the light in those too-human eyes dimmed for a moment before he shook it off and gestured, presenting Aziraphale with a beautiful little garden table, set with an ornate china tea set. The kettle was steaming, and a moment later it was joined by a plate of small sandwiches and cakes.

“Oh, I shouldn’t…” Aziraphale’s stomach rumbled, reminding him that even if time was paused outside, he had still been expending a great deal of effort for some time here inside Crowley’s soul. And he hadn’t had anything at all to eat since that night in the bookshop. That had been two days ago now, though it felt like an age had passed since then.

Pride laughed. “Well, you should. Or would you dare tell Pride his offering isn’t good enough?”

Aziraphale grinned, and seated himself at the table. “Anything Crowley gives me is more than good enough,” he said.

“Is it now?” Pride asked, an odd look crossing his face.

“Well, of course!” Aziraphale told him. “Crowley has always taken such good care of me. And he has excellent taste, though I do question some of his musical choices.”

“I see.” That odd look shifts into something like disbelief before Pride replaces it with a genial smile. “Well, aren’t you going to have some tea?” He sits down at the table opposite Aziraphale, and lifts the kettle, indicating the cup in front of the angel.

“Oh, yes please.” Aziraphale watches as he pours, trying to decide what that fleeting expression had meant.

Pride sets the kettle down, and puts a few cakes and sandwiches on a small plate, which he hands to the angel. He watches in silence as Aziraphale digs in, just like Crowley always did when they ate together. On rare occasions Aziraphale has been able to tempt him to a few bites of something or other, but he almost always seemed content with just a coffee or alcohol.

“This is quite good,” he praised the aspect after a few moments in which he tried a small bite of everything on his plate. “Really, I hadn’t realized you were such a good cook.”

“Miracled food, angel,” the aspect said, grinning. “There’s not exactly a kitchen here, is there?”

“Oh.” Aziraphale frowned at the cakes, then shrugged, deciding it doesn’t matter. He was hungry, and even if wasn’t truly real, it did taste good. “Well, I suppose it doesn’t hurt. Though perhaps you could learn to cook when we get back home. I have been wanting to take a few cooking classes. We could take them together. I’m sure you’d do well.”

“Yeah?” Pride asked, “You think?”

“I know.” He looked up from his plate to see Pride still watching him. Those eyes were highly unnerving. Just as he had with Curiosity, he found himself missing Crowley’s normal eyes.

“What?” Pride asked, frowning. “Not good?”

“Oh no, no, it’s not that. I was just… wondering.” He took a quick sip of tea to hide his discomfort.

“Wondering?” Pride prompted.

“About your eyes. They’re not exactly… I mean to say, they’re quite nice, but they aren’t really Crowley’s eyes, are they?”

“Hmm?” Pride frowned. “Ah, right. He has serpents’ eyes. Pity, that. I was always quite proud of my eyes as an angel. The color is quite striking, don’t you think?”

He leaned forward so that Aziraphale could see them better. They were rather beautiful - a deep amber-brown that seemed to sparkle in the sunlight with threads of a brighter gold shot through them closer to the center. Still, he found himself wishing for the bright yellow-gold that never failed to remind him of the molten gold of the sun.

“They are rather nice,” he admitted. “Still, I miss your usual eyes. They seem more… you.”

Pride blinked in surprise. “Huh.”

“What?” Aziraphale asked.

“It’s just… I’d have thought you’d prefer me like this. I almost look like I did before I… well. Before you knew me.”

The angel shook his head. “Not at all. I love you any way you choose to appear, my dear, but I must admit I’m rather partial to your normal eyes.”

“Oh.” Pride still seemed surprised.

“Oh yes. You hide them away so often, but I do so love when you let me see your eyes.” He smiled, trying to convey how very much he meant his words. He knew Crowley was sometimes insecure about his more demonic aspects. He rarely showed it, but Aziraphale could tell in any case.

“You mean that.” The expression on Pride’s face shifted again, becoming something almost vulnerable and a little scared.

“I do. Really, Crowley should be proud of them. They’re very unique, and so expressive. They fit him very well.”

“And…” Pride hesitated for a moment, before asking “what else does he have to be proud of?”

“I… beg your pardon?” Aziraphale frowned, confused.

“I am not a very good demon,” Pride explained. “Just as I was never very good as an angel. If I return, what do I have to be proud of? An empty flat and commendations I didn’t earn?”

“You-” Aziraphale stopped, considering his words. He couldn’t risk saying the wrong thing here. “We stopped the end of the world. That’s certainly something to be proud of.”

“Only by messing up every step of the way,” Pride countered. “That’s hardly noteworthy.”

“Fair enough. Though I would point out that our screw ups rather directly caused the events that prevented the Apocalypse.”

The aspect laughed at him. “So I should be proud of my failure then?”

“Well, when you put it that way…” Aziraphale sighed. “I guess it’s not really.”

“Then what else do I have? What should I be proud of?” Pride wanted to know.

“You, well, you’ve got a very nice garden,” Aziraphale told him. “And you are quite proud of that infernal death trap you call a car, among other things. Not to mention all the mischief you get up to.”

“And you?” Pride asked, leaning back and attempting to act as if he didn’t care what he was saying. The way his eyes stayed locked on Aziraphale’s face, however, was proof enough this was important to him. “Can you find anything to be proud of in a demon?”

Aziraphale frowned, not sure what he meant by that. “I’m always proud of Crowley. He’s always been an excellent adversary.”

“Ah, and there we are,” Pride said, nodding. “An adversary. But you have said to several of us aspects now that you love him. One does not profess love of an adversary. I wonder, what will you ask of him, if he returns to you? What do you desire in a partner that you can be proud to claim? You told Rage you don’t believe either of you are still the infernal or divine agents you once were. So what will you expect of your no-longer-a-demon? What will you do, when he acts in ways you don’t approve?”

“Well…” the angel considered his response. “I suppose I would be upset if he gives in to his more… demonic nature. Oh! But that doesn’t mean I’m not proud of him in other ways!”

“So you expect him to become an angel again, is that it?” Pride watched his face with those strange too-human - too-angelic - eyes, seeming just a bit… lost.

Aziraphale paused to consider that. Was that what he expected? The answer was no, not really. But he did expect him to be… what? Less demonic? Stop causing chaos because it wasn’t his job anymore? No, that wasn’t it either. He had told Mischief he valued Crowley’s ability to cause chaos after all, and that was the truth. He may not always approve of upsetting people, but he loved watching how excited Crowley got over his pranks. No, what he expected was that Crowley wouldn’t further Hell’s agenda. But was that really fair, when he himself hadn’t stopped acting entirely as an agent of Heaven?

“If he stays at your side, angel, how much of himself will you ask him to set aside? I don’t have his memories, any more than Rage or Compassion did. But I know angels. How many times do you look at him and try to see the angel he used to be? You asked about my eyes. They are the marks of the Throne I once was. It left traces like this all over me when I fell. Pieces remain in all of us aspects, except - well. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it? How much of it is really left?”

On the table, the clear glass of the mirror changed to reflect that day in Tadfield Manor, when Crowley had gotten so angry when Aziraphale called him nice. Unnoticed by Pride or the angel, the creature hummed, watching the exchange with wide eyes.

“I, well, I suppose, ah,” Aziraphale stammered, trying to find some sort of reply.

Pride laughed, but there was no joy in it. “Well. I guess you’ll have to judge that for yourself, if you get that far. But ask yourself this - do you want to see him return to Heaven?”

“No,” Aziraphale told him firmly, not even needing to consider it. “I- I might daydream about Crowley becoming an angel again. I’ll admit that. It’s not something I’m proud of. I know he would hate that idea. And, yes, sometimes I do look for traces of the angel he used to be. But only because it’s always so easy to see. I don’t need your eyes to be angelic, or your wings to be white, or- or any of that, to see it. In some ways, Crowley is more angelic than I. But I have no illusions. Crowley is a demon, and, despite the pain in him, he does not regret falling. And, well, it might be silly of me, perhaps, but I do not think I would love him as much if he did become an angel again, because that would mean he had lost that conviction. That is something he very much can, and should be proud of.”

He smiled then, realizing what he needed to say. What Crowley’s Pride needed to hear. He leaned across the table, and took Pride’s hand in his.  At his side, the creature hummed. “I may not have been able to say it before, but I am not ashamed to love him. I have never been. Afraid? Yes, very much so. Afraid of what Heaven would do to him, if they ever found out. Of what Hell might do if they found out. And even what Crowley himself would do, if he discovered the depth of my feelings. But I have never been ashamed of him. And I never will be. If, after all of this, he will still have me, I will proudly call him my partner, or my lover. Perhaps even, eventually, my husband.”

Pride smiled, that lost look fading from his eyes. “Then perhaps returning will not be such a bad thing.” He laid his free hand on the mirror, which shifted to show an image of the two of them dining at the Ritz. And the look in Crowley’s eyes as he watched Aziraphale from across the table. It was the same look in Pride’s eyes now. “I, too, would be proud to call you mine.”

Light flashed from the mirror. And moments later, Aziraphale was left staring across the table at empty air. The creature buzzed, flowing up into Pride’s vacated chair and extending a tendril of eyes to examine the mirror even as the angel shook his head to clear the spots from his vision. Etched into the glass beside Curiosity’s sigil was the Enochian symbol for Pride. More than half the circles were filled.

“We’re almost there,” he told the creature. “Just four more now.” It hummed agreement, then reached out with a tendril of darkness, and snatched a cake off of Aziraphale’s plate.

[ourownsideimagines]

Do You See The Way I Look at You? (Slytherin!Crowley x Fem!Hufflepuff!Reader)

Characters: Fem!Hufflepuff!Reader, Ravenclaw!Aziraphale, Slytherin!Crowley, Slytherin!Gabriel, Slytherin!Michael, Slytherin!Uriel

Requested: Yes 

Requested by: Anon

Point of View: Second Person

Summary: When Aziraphale introduces you to Crowley, a Slytherin in the same year as you, you’re unsure how to feel about him. He seems the stereotypical evil Slytherin - until you get to know him, that is, then you realize how much more there is to him. Especially considering his magical background - or, really, the lack thereof. 

Warnings: Bullying, use of the term ‘mudblood’, cursing, minimal editing

Words: 1669

A/N: Crowley is muggle born, Aziraphale is half-blood, and all others are purebloods. I also decided to put Anathema into Hufflepuff because of her loyalty to Agnes’ prophecies (and because I needed a name for the reader’s roommate). I’ll do a part two of this that takes place in Hogsmead.

---

Overall you liked to think you were a kind person. You tried to be very accepting of everyone, regardless of bloodline, or ethnicity, or sexuality, or house! People deserved the benefit of the doubt - you believed that deep in your soul.

But there was something about the Slytherin Anthony Crowley that set off alarms in your head.

Before now, you had never talked to him. You’d had him in a number of classes since first year. Now in sixth year, you had to admit he was an attractive young man. He’d decided to grow out his hair over the summer, something a lot of people seemed to notice but never mention. Most of it was gathered into a half-bun on the back of his head, and what did hang down was wavy, curling up at the ends.

But you didn’t really care about appearances. At least, not physical ones. From what you had heard about his personality Crowley was as Slytherin as they came - that was to say, he wasn’t a very nice person. He screwed around in classes, he made snide comments about other houses, and it was rumored that he’d set fire to a young Gryffindor’s robes between potions and herbology class.

If the circumstances were any different, you probably would have never interacted with the hot-headed Slytherin. But here you were, sitting in the count yard with him and your good friend Aziraphale, who had made it his job to introduce the two of you. From what you could gather, Aziraphale and Crowley had met on the train first year, and had slowly but surely become best friends. It had been a surprise to you, as you’d never actually seen them hang out before, or ever heard Aziraphale mention Crowley.

Everyone had their secrets. Still, if Aziraphale trusted him surely you could as well?

You had been as open minded as possible while talking with him. You tried to get to know him, but Crowley was very shut off and wasn’t afraid to tell you to piss off if you were asking things he thought were ‘too personal’ like his favorite color and what class he had next. And he didn’t seem too interested in getting to know you, either. You’d heard Aziraphale chastise him on multiple occasions for being so rude only for Crowley to blow him off.

Christmas Break was coming up fast now, and this year you would remain at Hogwarts while your parents went to Africa on business. It upset you, but you knew the work your parents did was important to them.

‘This is the big one, sweetheart.’ Your dad had written. ‘We’ll celebrate Christmas together once school is out’.

It had been all you could think about since breakfast, when the letter had arrived. You could tell by the looks on your friends faces that they knew something was off, but no one said anything. They were all busy talking about all the exciting things they were going to do over break. And with the Hogsmead visit coming up, they also spoke about who they would go with. You had been looking forward to the visit, and planned to go with your roommate Anathema, but you weren’t looking forward to also be spending time with her boyfriend Newt. He was clingy to say the least and you suspected you wouldn’t get to talk much with Anathema.

You had your books gathered in your arms, rushing to potions, and not exactly paying attention to where you were going when someone popped around the corner and you walked full force into them. You yelped as the books fell from your arms, landing onto the person’s foot.

“Damn it!” You looked up, heart suddenly racing as a pair of violet eyes glared down at you.

Most people knew who Gabriel was - a Seventh year Slytherin with an even worse rep than Crowley. You’d done your best to avoid him and his crowd, but it looked like you’d really done it this time. Beside him stood two of his friends, Michael and Uriel.

Yeah. You were fucked.

“Oh, my god, I am so sorry-” Your natural instinct kicked in, apologies spilling from your mouth. You dropped down, reaching for your books, but the three began to kick them away from your hands.

“Do you even watch where the hell you’re going?” Gabriel sneered at you. You managed to get a hand on one of the books, only for Michael to stamp their foot down on your fingers. You cried out in pain, pulling your hand back to your chest as you fell onto your butt. “You’ve made me late to class, Hufflepuff.”

“All of us.” Uriel said coldly.

“I didn’t mean to-” You tried again, tears forming in your eyes.

“Look, Gabriel, she’s crying.” Michael taunted. “She makes us late, and she’s crying.”

“Maybe we should teach the crybaby a lesson.” Gabriel said, smiling suddenly. You began to scramble backwards, letting out a small yelp as you hit someone else. You looked up, catching a flash of red hair and a green tie before Crowley was stepping in front of you, books clutched to his chest as he stood tall.

“Leave her alone.” He hissed at them. Gabriel scoffed.

“What are you gonna do about it, mudblood?” Gabriel drew his wand, and Crowley did the same with lightning speed. “You’re a disgrace to the Slytherin name.”

“If you knew me,” Crowley began. “You’d know I don’t care.” Then, he turned his wand down to your books, which sat between their feet, and your eyes widened as he spat out, “Incendio.” And the books roared into flames at Gabriel, Michael, and Uriel’s feet. The three Slytherin jumped back in surprise, giving Crowley enough time to help you to your feet, racing with you down the hall. 

You can hear them following you, which distracted you from the fact your books had just gone up in flames, and which carried you further and faster down the halls.

There were no students left, and Crowley seemed to know the exact halls to take to avoid any adults who would yell at you if they saw you out of class.

“Get back here, Crowley!” Gabriel shouted. “Get back here you filthy mudblood!”

Crowley yanked you left, and you allowed him to pull you through a large set of double doors. He then lead you to a nearby column that had just enough room to hide both of you from view. As the doors flew open, you bit your tongue to keep from screaming as Gabriel, Michael, and Uriel stampeded past the two of you. Your breathing calmed down after a moment, finally free from them.

But you weren’t out of the woods yet.

“They’re gone,” Crowley said from behind you, his warm breath ticking the back of your neck.. “So could you please move so I can get out.”

“Oh, my lord, I’m sorry.” You squeaked, quickly rushing away from him. Crowley steps out from behind the column and brushes himself off with his free hand. “Um, thank you. For helping me.”

“It’s nothing.” He said, shaking his head gently. Then, you remembered what had happened, and a sudden wave of anger came over you.

“You set fire to my books!” You snapped suddenly, and his head lifted up. “You set my bloody books on fire!” He stared at you from behind his dark sunglasses for a good few moments.

“Wow,” He said suddenly. “I honestly didn’t think you could get mad.”

“How dare-”

“Here.” He said, shoving his books into your arms. “I never use them anyway.” You looked down, surprised to find that he’d handed you the exact same books you had dropped. They were in much better condition than the ones you had owned.

“I, uh, what-”

“We’re late for class.” Crowley turned on his heels, prepared to head back in the direction of class. “C’mon.” A sudden burst of confidence had you reaching out to him, grabbing the fabric of his cloak sleeve. He stopped, turning back to you.

“Why… Why are you being so… kind to me?” You asked. Crowley didn’t try to pull away from you, but he took a moment to answer.

“I don’t know.” He said. “Just felt… right.”

“Right enough to set my books on fire?”

“Are you not going to let that one go?” His tone surprised you. You’d expected it to be sarcastic, or even annoyed. But he sounded amused. “Look, it seemed like the only way out, and like I said I don’t use my books so… yeah.”

“That’s very kind,” She said. “I honestly didn’t think you could be kind.” Then, you pulled your hand away. “I honestly thought you hated me.”

“Hate’s a strong word, (name).” Crowley said. “I, uh, I don’t hate you.”

“I’m glad.” You said.

“So, uh. Class?” Class. You had to get to class. But there was one last thing you wanted to ask.

“Oh, yeah.” He began walking again, but you gently called his name. He stopped, and turned back again. “Do you, uh,” You refused to look at his face. Not being able to see where he was looking unnerved you a bit. “Are you going to Hogsmead with anybody?”

“I, um, I was, uh,” He stuttered. “I usually go alone.”

“Oh,” You nodded. “Well, I was wondering if you’d maybe want to go with me?” The long silence that followed made you panic. You’d gone to far, you were sure of it.

“Are you sure you want to go with me?” Crowley spoke up suddenly. “I haven’t exactly been very… friendly.”

“I’m sure.” You confirmed. “I mean, I don’t have to if you don’t want me to-”

“No, no, I never said that.” Crowley rushed out. “I guess I could let you join me.” He shrugged, holding out his arm to you. You rolled your eyes, and gently interlocked your arm with his.

“How kind.” You teased gently. Crowley rolled his eyes, but began walking.

“Shut up.”

[pagesofkenna]

laurenlikesstuff replied to your post “someone give me a fanfic prompt”

“We got stuck together as travel buddies for the class trip and we have to sit together on the bus and we’re not allowed to have our phones - what book are you reading?”

[AO3 link] @laurenlikesstuff

Aziraphale watched the cracked screen of his old white cellphone disappear into the front pocket of his teacher’s backpack, shamefaced. He didn’t really mind losing the phone for an hour – he’d packed more than enough books for the overnight trip as it was. What he couldn’t stand was the profound look of disappointment on the teacher’s face.

“You’ll get these back in an hour,” she said, wrenching Crowley’s sleek black phone out of his grip, “I’m not a monster. But until then.…” She indicated the empty bench behind them, right at the front of the bus, just behind the driver. Singled out from their classmates, who were all staring up at them from the back half.

Aziraphale hurriedly sat down. Crowley, instead, complained. “An hour?! What are we supposed to do for an hour?! Stick our thumbs up our asses?”

“Preferably not.” The teacher made a shooing motion and Crowley practically growled before finally, blessedly, slumping down into the seat. Aziraphale slid as far towards the window as the space would allow. “Read a book, or do your homework. Maybe you could convince your new partner in crime to help you out with that, be a good influence.”

Both the teacher and Crowley shot a look Aziraphale’s way, and he immediately turned to look out the window.

“Or just sit there quietly,” she added. “Think about what you two did.” She finally moved away, to address the rest of the students with her pre-trip safety speech. For once, Aziraphale didn’t listen. His hands were still shaking.

Crowley spoke in a low voice on his left. “We didn’t even get away with it,” he grumbled, quietly enough Aziraphale had to glance over to make sure he’d heard him. “If we’d gotten away with it, all this would make sense, but we didn’t so-”

“You tried to steal the teacher’s liquor!” Aziraphale hissed. He glanced back at the teacher to make sure she didn’t hear them talking. “Crowley that’s illegal!”

Crowley raised an eyebrow. “More illegal than her having alcohol on campus to begin with?”

“Yes.”

Crowley didn’t respond.

“Probably,” Aziraphale amended.

Crowley crossed his arms with a smirk, and Aziraphale felt righteous indignation overcoming the mortification of being tricked into aiding a robbery. “I can’t believe you,” he said, “I knew what everyone said about you and your little gang and still I-I-. I can’t believe you would just let the teacher think I had any part in your-”

“Hey I didn’t ask you to help out,” Crowley spat. He had replaced his smirk with a scowl, and the way his hands balled into fists at his sides made Aziraphale nervous, though he didn’t think Crowley was the sort to get into fights. They were both quiet for a moment as the teacher sat down and the bus took off, then Crowley added, “You’re the one who walked up and offered to hold the door.”

“Which I wouldn’t have done if I’d known what you were up to, believe me.”

“Oh, now you’re just ruining it, angel.”

An unbidden blush crept onto Aziraphale’s face. “What?”

Crowley unballed his fists to gesture vaguely in Aziraphale’s direction, as if that meant anything. “You’ve got this whole goody-goody two shoes act going on. Teacher’s favorite, top of the class, perfect little angel who can do no wrong. For a moment you let me think you were better than that.”

“I-I don’t…. I’m not…,” Azirapahle sputtered.

Crowley crossed his arms again and slumped low in his seat. Their knees were touching, Aziraphale realized too late.

“A-anyway,” Azirphale said, “did… you want me to help with your homework, or…?”

“God no, are you joking?” Crowley was a good head shorter, slumped into the bus seat like that, and he looked up at Aziraphale with the most bemused expression. “Don’t tell me you really brought your homework along on an overnight trip.”

Aziraphale stared down at Crowley, thought about the half-finished essay he’s shoved into his backpack earlier, and tried to change the subject. “I’ve got books,” he said, “if you want to borrow any."

“I can’t believe you,” Crowley said with a chuckle. “You know, I don’t think you’re even allowed to bring homework on a school trip.”

“What?”

“It’s homework.”

Aziraphale stared blankly down at Crowley for a moment while the words registered in his brain. He shook his head. “That’s… not what that means,” he said. “At all.”

“Really?”

“Really. Now if you don’t want to borrow anything, I’ll just-.” Aziraphale pulled his backpack up from its spot by his feet and grabbed the first book he saw after unzipping it.

Crowley shook his head. “I don’t want a book,” he said. “I had music. On my phone. But that was taken from me.”

“I’m very sorry for your loss,” Aziraphale said without looking up.

“You know, maybe you’re not hopeless,” Crowley said, and Aziraphale didn’t have to glance over to hear the grin in his voice. “Could do with some loosening up, sure. But you’re not as uptight as I thought you were.”

“Well you’re just as much of a scoundrel as I thought you were,” Aziraphale said. He tried to scowl into his book, but found that he couldn’t.

He looked down at Crowley – his seatmate for at least the next forty-five minutes – and found Crowley was staring back up at him with a cocky grin and a strange sort of a glimmer in his eye. Aziraphale remembered the look on his face just that morning. He’d seen Crowley trying to get into the teacher’s office and Aziraphale had grabbed the door for him, thinking he was just looking to talk to her about the trip, too. Crowley had looked shocked then, and utterly delighted.

“Well, if I’m gonna turn you into a scoundrel too, we could start by trying to steal our phones back,” Crowley said.

The teacher’s backpack was sitting with the rest of the travel bags on the bench across the aisle from them, but the teacher herself was sitting just behind it. “You’re not going to turn me into you,” Aziraphale said. “And besides, there’s no point. We’re getting them back in forty-five minutes anyway.”

“Have we been on the bus that long already? I couldn’t tell, I don’t have the time. My phone was taken away.” Crowley waved an empty hand around to demonstrate.

Aziraphale pointed up at the numbers on the display hanging above the driver. “There’s a clock right in front of you.”

“Oh, really?” Crowley craned his head out into the aisle to look. Muffled conversations from students drifted up to the front, and Aziraphale imagined everyone staring up at the pair of them. He sunk lower into his seat. “Huh.”

The book had been all but forgotten in Aziraphale’s lap. He tried to start reading again, but didn’t get far. “I do have one thing,” Crowley said, and he reached into his backpack as well. The first thing he pulled out was a pair of tangled earbuds. “I brought an old cassette player I found, in case my phone ran out of juice. But the only tape I have is Queen.” The cassette player emerged next, the tape already loaded. Crowley plugged the earbuds in, then handed one to Aziraphale. “Here.”

Aziraphale didn’t take it. “I prefer classical,” he said, trying to ignore how that must sound to a boy like Crowley.

“Doesn’t get much more classical than the 70s,” Crowley said. He shook the earbud in Aziraphale’s direction one more time. “Come on, we’re friends, just take it.”

Friends. “That’s fast,” Aziraphale muttered, but he hesitated only a moment longer before taking the earbud and sticking it in his left ear. Crowley slumped closer. The first lines of Bohemian Rhapsody played and Azirphale tried to pick up his book again.

This time Crowley didn’t stop him. Instead, he just tapped the back cover and asked, “So… what book are you reading?”

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Time to Waste 9

Good Omens 

Link to Chapter 8 

Pairings: Gabriel x Reader/Crowley x Aziraphale 

_________

Still friends? 

Over the following few weeks you began to wonder just what Gabriel’s definition of still friends actually meant? Gabriel didn’t stick around much. He claimed to be “working” on something. He didn’t even begin to elaborate on where he was going or what he was doing. 

He would turn up every couple of days to see how Matilda and yourself were doing but he never stayed long. Part of you wondered if this had to do with Gabriel still not being 100% comfortable with his daughter. If that was the problem, Gabriel never let on.  In the beginning, Gabriel would freeze for a moment when Matilda would wrap herself around his legs but that quickly changed. He didn’t hesitate to hold her for a few moments now. 

Matilda was busy using Gabriel’s cluelessness to her advantage. If she wanted something, all that she had to do was tell her father. Gabriel would make whatever it was happen. There had been a few times that you had to step in and say no.

Maybe Gabriel was seeing someone else. You immediately scoffed at the idea. If Gabriel was seeing someone else then why would have kissed you that day at the aquarium? 

You stood in the kitchen and was hovering over a boiling pot of water. When you were stressed, you cooked. You could keep your mind of Gabriel for a bit. If you kept yourself busy then you didn’t have to think about him in the arms of another woman. 

The thought was foolish. You knew that you were being stupid thinking it but the immature side in you was going wild. You had expected Gabriel be begging shamelessly for you to take him back. When he was not trying to get you in bed with him, you were surprised! Surprised and slightly hurt was the feeling that you felt a good 95% of the time. 

“Get it together, Y/n! You told him that you didn't want this. What do you expect?”

You mentally chided yourself.  For once, Gabriel was doing what you asked him to. This time, however, was it really what you wanted? When Gabriel would turn up for a visit, sometimes he would kiss you. Other times, he acted like touching you would doom him straight to hell. On those days, you wanted nothing more than to remind him that the two of you had a four-year-old daughter that he helped to create. Those days, you simply avoided the archangel. You let him have his time with Matilda and stayed away. 

Pulling yourself from your thoughts, you turned to look at Matilda. The child sat at the table coloring. She looked up at you with a little smile. 

“Alright dear?”

You asked. Matilda nodded. 

“I’m super sparkly.” 

You turned with a smile. Hopefully, Matilda wasn’t listening to your thoughts. You didn’t want her to be worried about “grown-up problems.” When she didn’t say anything, you were confident that she was worried about something else. 

The front door opening and closing quickly got your attention again. Matilda had slid out of her chair and took off down the hall. When Matilda took off like that you knew that it meant Gabriel was back. Fighting the feeling of excitement and hope, you quickly turned back to the simmering pot in front of you.  

You smiled hearing Matilda’s chattering mixed in with Gabriel maybe getting one or two words in. 

Time to figure something out….

You muttered. It was time to figure out just what Gabriel was to you. What if he didn’t want you back? What if he really thought about things and decided that he would rather just help raise Matilda without any romance thrown your way? You mentally put a hand over your face. When he started “thinking.” things could potentially get dangerous! 

Without thinking, you moved your hand too close to the pot. You yanked your hand back the moment the burning sensation hit you. 

“Son of a bitch!”

You squealed.  

“Mommy! You said bitch!” 

You quickly turned around to see Gabriel in the door with Matilda in his arms. As soon as she said “bitch” Matilda put her hand over her mouth. 

“Matilda.”

Gabriel said her name calmly. Matilda sighed. 

“I’ll go put myself in the corner.”

Gabriel sat Matilda down as she walked into the other room. He turned his attention back to you. 

“What did you do now?”

“Burnt my hand. I wasn’t paying attention. Imagine that.”

You said, trying to laugh. Gabriel rolled his eyes. He walked over to you and took your hand in his. 

“You are always hurting yourself.” 

“I guess it is one of my talents?”

You suggested as he healed the ruined skin. 

“Apparently so.”

Gabriel replied. You swallowed back the subject that you really wanted to talk about. Gabriel was in one of his “moods.” This was the time that you didn’t really want to be around the archangel.  

“Anything new happen while I have been away?”

Gabriel asked as he turned his back to you. You shook your head. Gabriel had been gone 3 weeks this time. 3 long weeks! This was giving you enough time to tell the demon in your to shut up and realize that you deserve to be loved too! Gabriel was bad at loving at points but he tried.

“No, not really. You’ve been gone a while this time.”

Gabriel nodded and sat down at the table. He smirked at the picture of a cat that Matilda had clearly been working on. 

“I have a lot to do.” 

You swallowed. Maybe you needed to put your snark on the back burner and let him see what was really going on inside. 

“I’m sure. Matilda and I have missed you.” 

Gabriel didn’t let any kind of emotion. He didn’t even both looking up at you for a few more moments. 

“The two of you appear fine.” 

You made yourself hold back the emotions that were beginning to boil in your stomach. 

“We...I wish that you wouldn’t stay gone the way that you do.” 

Gabriel sighed and looked up finally. This conversation would have been a lot easier if he wasn’t in such a horrible mood! 

“What do you want me to say, Y/n? I am not here to cater to your every whim!”

You shook your head and turned back to the stove. 

“What?”

Gabriel asked. You didn’t turn back to him. 

“Nothing.”

You knew that you were not going to get anywhere with him today! The sound of the chair pushing back got your attention. Gabriel had moved right behind you. 

“Talk, Y/n.”

You took a breath. 

“So what is going on with us?”

“Us?”

Gabriel questioned. He frowned as though this was some foreign subject. You nodded. 

“Yes! Us! You and I! What is going on?”

Gabriel shrugged, giving you an innocent smirk. 

“Nothing, I suppose. I thought that we were just friends.”

The feeling of depression hit you like a sack of bricks to the stomach. 

“Is that it?

Gabriel sighed. 

“What do you want me to say, Y/n? One moment, you want me. The next you don’t. I don’t have the patience for your indecisiveness.” 

You looked away, fighting the urge to cry. 

“I only said that I didn’t think that it was good for us to start sleeping together right away! Are you seeing other people?”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. 

“I have been out a few times. “ 

That was all that you could handle. You turned and headed for the door. 

“Funny how you say that we are just friends but there are sometimes that you are more than happy to act like my boyfriend and other times, like today, you are a giant dickwad. Well, you don’t have to worry about it now.” 

Gabriel turned and walked from the house without another word. He didn’t want to deal with a hysterical woman at the moment! 

An hour later, however, Gabriel had calmed down enough to start feeling guilty about what happened. He did love you but was also confused as to what was really going on between the two of you. You were right to want to take things slow. The last time that the two of you were hopping into bed together along came Matilda and four years of silence. 

Walking back into the house, Gabriel held roses in one hand. After watching some sappy commercial, he figured that bringing you a gift may earn him some points. 

Crowley looked up from the book he was reading as Gabriel stepped into the living room. 

“Come to cause Y/n more trouble?” 

Gabriel sighed. 

“She told you?”

Crowley shrugged making sure to be as sassy as possible. 

“I am her father.” 

Gabriel muttered a few things under his breath. 

‘I handled that wrong. I think she and I need to talk.”

Matilda looked up from the board game that she was playing with Aziraphale. 

“Mommy isn’t here.” 

Gabriel felt even worse knowing that his daughter had just heard everything. He turned back to Crowley. 

“Where is she?”

Crowley smirked. 

“Her friend Cami came for a visit. They are out looking for a better class of man.” 

“Yeah, where is that?”

Gabriel snapped. Crowley grinned. 

“Anywhere really.”

Gabriel sat down as Matilda walked over and climbed on his lap. 

“Cami is where brain cells go to die.” 

Crowley choked back a laugh while Aziraphale shook his head. 

“That isn’t nice, sweetheart.” 

Matilda held her hands up. 

“I say that because Cami thinks that we are normal people. She’s also a walking anxiety commercial.” 

Gabriel, having enough put a hand on his face. 

“Stop.”

Matilda was clearly amazed that Gabriel actually told her to stop doing something for once. She frowned and put her arms over her chest. Gabriel stood up and motioned to the stairs.

“I think that you should go to bed.” 

Crowley and Aziraphale went back to the TV show that they were watching when Gabriel followed Matilda upstairs.

“He’s doing better at the whole father thing.”

Aziraphale commented as took a sip of his tea. Crowley made a disgusted face. 

“He’s so clueless that it is pathetic! Right now he is just pouting because Y/n gave him a taste of his own medicine ...which he deserves.”

Aziraphale nodded. 

“Yes, he does but the two of them probably shouldn’t be doing all of this around Matilda. She picks up on stuff very quickly.” 

Before Crowley could, respond the shrill sound of Matilda screaming filled the room. Aziraphale dropped the tea biscuit that he was holding. 

“What’s going on up there?”

Aziraphale questioned. Crowley smirked. 

 “Gabriel is learning his first real lesson as a father. How to survive a tantrum.” 

Aziraphale winced as Matilda started screaming at Gabriel to put her down. Two seconds later Gabriel walked in with Matilda under one arm. Crowley had to resist the urge to laugh and encourage his granddaughter to give her father hell.

“Like little alligators, huh?”

Crowley asked with a smirk as Matilda tried to bite Gabriel’s hand. Gabriel looked totally perplexed by the fit the kid was throwing. 

“If you bit me again...I will lock you in a closet until your mother gets home!” 

Matilda grinned. 

“I’ll let myself out.”

Crowley stood up with a smile. 

“Candy usually works.”

He said and made a lollipop appear in his hand. Crowley held the treat out to Matilda. The little girl had stopped her struggling and was eyeing the treat. 

“If I give you this then will you please do whatever your father wanted before he has a complex?”

Matilda nodded eagerly and took Crowley’s peace offering. Gabriel sat Matilda down and she ran off into another room. Crowley gave Gabriel a shit-eating grin. 

“That’s how you do it.” 

Gabriel looked annoyed as he did the day that the apocalypse failed to happen.

“Right. Tell Y/n, when she gets home...I want to talk to her.”

Meanwhile, 

You sat at a half-empty bar as Cami downed some booze. She was in her usual happy mood.

“I figured that you would want to drink more.”

She stated and pushed a half-empty shot of whiskey to you. You shook your head.

“Nah, booze won’t help this problem.” 

Cami was quiet for a moment. 

“Can I be honest with you?”

You nodded.

“Please do.” 

If Cami had any good advice at the moment then you would be happy to take it! This day had to be one of the worst in a long time! You were kicking yourself forever coming back to England. If you had just stayed in Germany or Switzerland then you would have never ran back into Gabriel. 

The only thing that you were thankful for was having Aziraphale and Crowley again. If you left with Matilda again, they would be shattered and so would your daughter! 

“Gabriel doesn’t deserve your sadness. He knocked you up, treats you like crap, and you just keep letting him. This isn’t like you Y/n. You act like he is some kind of angel to man or something.” 

You internally giggled at that. Cami sighed. 

“I am just tired of seeing you hurt.”

You nodded. 

“Me too. Well, you don’t have to worry about it. After today, I think that it is safe to say that Gabriel and I are over. I should probably get back home. Dad will probably be feeding Matilda ice cream until she goes into a sugar coma.”

Walking back into the house, you smiled seeing Crowley watching some kind of chick flick. You knew better than to ask him about his random TV selections. He looked up and smiled seeing you. 

“Have a good time?”

You put your coat on the rack before turning back to your father. 

“It's always a blast watching Cami drink.” 

Crowley looked back to the TV for a moment. 

“Your day is about to get a lot better. Gabriel is upstairs waiting for you.”

Your mouth dropped! This was the last thing that you expected. 

“What?”

Crowley nodded. 

“He feels like the giant asshole that he is. Matilda gave him hell too which was a joy to watch.” 

You put a hand over your face. This was the last thing that you really felt like dealing with at the moment. 

“I guess I better go deal with him.” 

Crowley sighed. 

“Good luck.”

You muttered “I’ll need it” under your breath before going to the stairs. Looking up the stairs, you sighed. What was waiting for you up there? Was it asshole Gabriel or the Gabriel that you loved? Time would only tell.

_____

@brokencasbutt67-writer

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[spootiliousrps]

Ineffable 50 Questions

Stranger: If anyone had asked Crowley would have said it was Aziraphales idea. In reality the decision to visit Adam Young had been a mutual agreement, and one that would hopefully put their worries at ease. It had been a few months since the not-apocalypse but despite the understanding that everything was normal the town of Tadfield still had a strange energy about it. Not bad, per se, just strange. “So,” the demon began as the welcome sign for the small town came into view. “You remember where the kid lives or are we just gonna have to look around? Make sure nothings burned to the ground and all.”

You: [reading]

Stranger: (Np take your time!)

You: Aziraphale gave a small huff as he glanced at the Demon from the corner of his eyes as they walked down the quiet road. "Of course I remember." He scoffed lightly. "I simply..." He hesitated trying to find a way to describe it. "You see its just..." He tried again before shaking his head and giving a more frustrated huff. "Well, something is simply.... different about it all." He rushed in his annoyance with himself. "Everything just feels..... Well it feels..." He tried once more, still unable to find the correct word for the way everything seemed so odd.

Stranger: “Feels what? Off?” He tried, looking to aziraphale curiously. The town felt more or less the same to him, though he hadn’t had much time to get a feel before all things considered. “Doesn’t feel evil, that much is for sure. Doesn’t feel particularly divine either. Maybe it just feels normal.” He tried. If nothing else it seemed to be a source of frustration for the angel so it wouldn’t hurt to throw words out in an attempt to help.

You: 'Normal'... Well, Aziraphale supposed that could be the case. His brows furrowed as he considered it, lips pursing into a thin line as he grew lost in his thoughts. Though if that were true then he should have noticed the difference when the Apocalypse was about to happen. He should have sensed Adam... Shouldn't he have? Then again maybe he was simply over analyzing everything. He did so hate to be away from his shop for too long after the fire. Perhaps it simply put him on edge. "Perhaps you're right, my dear... I suppose there is nothing to worry about." He offered, though it was obvious he didn't truly feel that way. "This way, I believe." He motioned down a small street.

Stranger: Demons had the ability to sense unease. They felt discord within a person, felt pride, desires, and fears off of people. That didn’t work with angels, but Crowley didn’t quite need to feel aziraphales anxiety to know it was there. It was present in the way he held himself, how he fidgeted his hands and spoke quickly. “Right.” He hummed and turned the corner. “So we go to his house, check in on him, and leave. Should be simple, even if things feel weird. Or have an absence of weirdness, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You: "Yes, of course." Aziraphale agreed with a small nod, perhaps a bit too quickly. Still, there was no sense in worrying. He was certain Adam was fine... He was the antichrist after all. What being could possibly harm him? And Adam was such a good child he was sure he hadn't caused any more trouble since they'd left. "Perhaps we should have brought something for him... A toy perhaps? To be quite honest I am not sure what boys his age play with." The Angel admitted softly.

Stranger: Crowley paused as he tried to think of what they could have brought. A book perhaps, or a baseball bat- those always did a bit of damage now and then. He was about to speak when a deep growling came from behind them and he turned to see a small black and white dog snapping at his heels. “Oh! Hey! No, back.” He shooed, stepping back as Dog barked, the sound quickly followed by children’s voices calling for the little beast.

You: The sound had Aziraphale turning to face the small hell hound, brows arching at the way Crowley reacted. He couldn't help but give a small chuckle at the Demon's blatant unease around the beast. "Now, now, dog." The Angel chided. "That is not proper manners." He warned, holding his ground. He was well aware that a hell hound could injure him but the reverse could be said as well. And while the beast couldn't actually kill Aziraphale, the opposite could /not/ be said.

Stranger: Dog shifted his attention to aziraphale, letting out another bark before stopping all together. Crowley gave a halfhearted glare at the angels laugh and straightened his jacket out, though kept a respectable distance between himself and the hound. Within the minute four children rounded the corner, headed by a familiar not-antichrist who scooped the dog up and attached the collar to a leash. “I’m so sorry.” Adam exclaimed. “He’s not usually one to get off his lead, I don’t know what... hey it’s you.” The boy said, suddenly rather distracted by the pair of familiar faces.

You: "Yes. Quite." Aziraphale acknowledged glancing back towards Crowley before offered a soft smile. "It's us." He added lamely, obviously still uneasy with the feeling of their surroundings. He seemed to shake himself out of it however, remembering his manners. "Its good to see you Adam. How are you getting along?" He asked politely.

You: [brb]

Stranger: “Um... good. It’s good.” Adam answered, looking back at the rest of Them who seemed more or less rather confused. Crowley looked them over, brows knitting together. “Nothing weird happening?” “No. Aside from Dogs chew toy, but we think he just buried it. So were out looking for it now.” He explained. Another of the children, the taller of the other two boys, spoke up and promptly asked: “‘scuse me, but I don’t think we know who you are. Aside from before, I mean.” Crowley looked to aziraphale, thinking over how best to answer that. “You first, you’re better at this thing.”

You: Aziraphale gave Crowley a flat look at the suggestion but complied. "Of course, My apologies." Aziraphale offered with a large polite smile. "My name is Aziraphale. I am..." He hesitated, realizing that he wasn't accustomed to being so blatant about what he was. "Well... I am an Angel." He offered with a small chuckle before glancing at Crowley. "And my..." He paused again. "My associate here." He offered, deciding on the wording a bit quickly as he gestured towards the man next to him. "is a Demon. Crowley." He introduced.

Stranger: Crowley gave aziraphale a look of surprise, mouthing the word ‘associate’ as if it were an insult. “You don’t look like an angel.” Piped up the boy in glasses. “Or a demon really. Aren’t angels supposed to have wings and a halo?” “And,” added the girl. “Demons are supposed to have horns and tails.” “Adam didn’t have horns and a tail, what’s that mean?” Crowley quipped back, gesturing to the leader of their little group. “That still doesn’t explain Az...” Wensleydale paused, the name tripping over his tongue which caused Crowley to grin in amusement. “Azirifall?” He asked

You: "Aziraphale, dear." The Angel corrected politely. He couldn't help but give a smile as well though instead of amusement it was more fond. He had always had a soft spot for children. "I have wings and halo." He acknowledged. "But it wouldn't do well if I walked among Humans with them visible now would it. I fear I'd start a panic and we certainly can't have that. Besides they do get in the way quite often. If I allowed them out then how could I sit properly or enter through a doorway. No, its best they stay right were they are." He explained giving an astute nod.

Stranger: That certainly grabbed the children’s attention. Aziraphale had the patience of a saint, and the temperament to match. A kind voice didn’t hurt either. “Where are they?” Adam asked. “You both had wings before. Not at the airbase but wherever we were when you talked to me.” “They talked to you?” Pepper asked, getting a nod in return.

You: "Well..." Aziraphale began, speaking to the children in the same tone as a teacher to their class. "You see, as ethereal and occult beings we have power beyond that of a human. Just as Adam did." He explained, motioning towards the boy. "We keep our wings hidden in a small pocket..." He searched for the correct word"... dimension so that they do not interact with any objects here on Earth. When we needed to speak to Adam. We expanded that pocket to include the three of us, thus revealing our wings in the process; and while it doesn't take much power to hide something as simple as our wings, stretching that pocket drained quite a bit. We wouldn't have been able to hold it for long." He explained.

Stranger: Crowley couldn’t help but grin. Aziraphale was wonderful with kids, always so patient and eager to indulge in teaching them something new. It was sweet really. And the Them seemed entirely amazed at the angels explanation, until Brian asked further: “can you do anything else like that? With dimensions, I mean. Can you go to different places?” The question brought a devilish smirk to Crowley’s face and he looked to aziraphale before answering himself. “Funny you ask that. I remember once I had to rush to France mid-revolution because someone got stuck in the bastille.”

You: The Angel was just about to reply when Crowley spoke first. Aziraphale glanced at the Demon, gaze a bit wide in embarrassment as he sputtered a bit, flushing slightly. "Yes, well... It was all a misunderstanding. Fashion changes so quickly you see... and France has such divine culinary delights. It was an easy mistake." He defended, speaking a bit more quickly than he had been a moment before. "I had the situation handled... Truly." He excused, bending the truth just a bit.

Stranger: “By ‘had the situation handled’ he means I stooped time and unlocked the shackles.” Crowley clarified, earning him a bit of laughter. “Don’t act like you weren’t happy to see me, we had a nice evening. Minus the sounds of the guillotine.” That sparked a bit of curiosity, bringing Pepper to ask “hold on, the guillotine? Didn’t people stop using that forever ago?” “Actually,” Wensleydale interjected “they only stopped in the seventies. But frances revolution with those was centuries ago. And neither of you look like you could be that old.” “Oh kid you have no idea.” Crowley laughed.

You: "It was rather nice." Aziraphale sighed, almost longingly. "The crepes were to die for." He admitted mouth practically watering at the reminder. "They really don't make them like they use to." He sighed, before his brows arched at the suggestion and he offered another bright smile. "Well, thank you. I do try and keep everything in good condition." He beamed proudly as he glanced down at himself. "Crowley and I have been on Earth for over... What is it now, dear...." He mumbled absently. "Six thousand years? Give or take a few centuries?" He asked him gesturing for him to answer. "Its hard to keep track now and again."

Stranger: “Six thousand?” Adam asked, eyes going wide, which seemed the general reaction across all of the children. “Sounds about right, yeah.” Crowley agreed. “Wait, so, how did you two even meet? The worlds huge. You can’t have just seen each other when you first got here.” Wensleydale quipped, all rather curious.

You: A smile played on Aziraphale lips that was a bit different than the one he had presented only a moment prior. It was soft... fond... but there was also a sense of guilt that came with it. "Well you see I was the Guardian of the East Gate of Paradise. I was assigned to protect two charges; Adam and Eve. I was not to intervene in their doings; simply ensure that they receive anything they ask for." He explained. "One day... They asked to leave. Turns out a serpent tempted them to break one of God's only rules." He shot Crowley a sideways glance though there was no heat behind it in the least, only fondness. "Then they asked me to allow them to leave. When I did as they asked... watching them go on their way, the serpent appeared to me and introduced himself as Crawley." He paused a moment before turning to face the Demon once more. "Looking back, I am very glad you chose to change your name... It is far more fitting." He complimented politely.

You: [I'm currently at work and will need to head home soon. Would there be anyway possible when I do have to disconnect shortly, that we can continue this again? Maybe over email, tumblr, or even another omegle tag?]

[morganeuk]

Good Omens: hurt/comfort

https://writersmonth.tumblr.com/post/185454834074/prompt-list

(Day 2, one-shot, word prompt: hurt/comfort)

Summary: When you are living for 6,000 years....changes are inevitable.

Aziraphale stormed inside Crowley's flat, the actual running from his place in Nothing Hill up to his friend lair had left him quite flustered. But it is an emergency! "What is wrong? I just got your message... But, but Crowley, you are, nooooo, you are crying?"

"No, I do not cry!" Stubbornly, the demon raised himself from the sofa where he was moping.  

Aziraphale, not believing the lie for a second, quickly used his handkerchief to wipe the tears away. He is usually more prompt to anger and sarcasm than... sadness.  "Talk to me, my friend, what is going on? I am not used to seeing you like this, you are worrying me, my sweet."  

Not realizing the tender endearment, Crowley slowly pushed the small hands away and turned away from him, ashamed. "It's... it's ridiculous. You are going to laugh."

"I'd never laugh at your pain, NEVER!" His face froze in horror suddenly. "They discovered our friendship and want you to return you to Hell?" No, no, please! I do not want to be all alone here!

"No, no, they are still clueless... idiots, all of them. On both sides." Walking close to the window, he looked outside. The street was full of life, with the glorious cacophony of horse-drawn carriages, men pulling chariots, bicycles and the new motor cars. The 1920s is a nice decade, full of changes, the end of the war causing men to do stupid things even more than usual, good for my business... but everything is not perfect!   With a deep sigh, he murmured, "it's about Iago and Machiavel."

"Don't tell me something happened to them? They are so precious!" Crowley's stallions were a wonderful pair of elegant and impressive black horses, with only a small white star on their forefronts. They obeyed their master's commands perfectly and, for Crowley and Aziraphale, going on a ballad together with the horses was one of their most favourite activities.

"I cannot keep them in London," the demon explained, defeated. "the building is closing the stable and, even if I found a way to make them change their mind or if I find another nearby stable, the city is not a nice place for them anymore. Every week, horses are killed by the stupid automobile drivers."  

"You knew that when you found them that they were going to be your last pair. The world is changing, Crowley. Usually, you love all things modern and embrace the change. You can find a nice place for them in the country," Aziraphale replied to the unasked question, hugging the man tightly, "you are a really good master and friend to them if you think about their welfare above all else!"

His head on the Angel's shoulder, Crowley muttered automatically but without his usual energic voice, "I am not good..." The clear disgust in the last world brought a smile to Aziraphale's face, the first since he received the demon's message.

Patting his back soothingly, he murmured, "no, of course, no, you are the evilest demon there is, the most Machiavelish."   After a moment, he asked, hoping to change Crowley's mood, "but if you don't have your slightly terrifying and gorgeous horses, what are you going to do? Always use cabs? That motorcycle of yours is quite exciting, but not really dignified and most of all, horrible for my cream coat."

"Maybe I could get one of these new cars, they are coming along nicely..."

"Yes, and you know that American, Mister Ford, he created a solid car that can be purchased by the middle-class, isn't it wonderful! Maybe you can -"

"That bulky thing! I would prefer to be discorporated! " With a devious little smile, he summoned a magazine from his bookshelves and opened it. "That." He pointed at an advertisement and whispered, "that's what I want.  Come along, Angel, we are going to the Bentley dealer, I need to order a car!"

The car come from this brilliant article: https://www.animationmagazine.net/vfx/the-demonically-good-visuals-of-good-omens/

First exploration outside of the Sherlock fandom, be nice! 

Beta read by notjustmom ❤️

I will probably won’t be able to keep the rhythm of one per day for a month!

[fuskinari]

In The End Chapter 1: Summer Prologue

There seemed to be something stuck in Aziraphale’s throat. As he tried to swallow - hard - a single bead of sweat dripped down his forehead. The sun was hot on his face, and the noise around him, shouts of excitement, faded to a dull roar. His ears were burning bright red. Don’t turn around don’t turn around, please, oh please don’t turn around, were the words racing through Aziraphale’s mind. His eyes were locked onto the back of a stranger’s head several yards in front of him. Standing in a small, grassy field was a line of incoming students, Aziraphale included, waiting to pick up their first semester schedules. Aziraphale silently, fiercely prayed to go unnoticed, that he could just pick up his schedule and go back to his small, private dorm room in peace. And yet, achingly slow, a young man with flaming red hair pushed back by a pair of sunglasses turned around. His odd, golden-yellow eyes widened as they found Aziraphale’s flushed face.

Crowley’s feet froze where he stood, new schedule in hand. Another student behind him pushed past, but Crowley barely noticed. Huh, he thought to himself a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He reached up, and slid his sunglasses back over his eyes. Fancy seeing him here...

Around them, students passed by, oblivious to whatever event was transpiring between these two acquaintances, meeting each other again in the last place they expected to be together. Though they hardly knew each other, the shock of seeing the other’s face was enough to halt their tracks. And despite how infrequently they’d actually spoken, their story began many, many years ago.

----------

It was in Miss Nutter’s first grade class they met. Aziraphale, a shy, wide-eyed, blond babe, and Crowley, a gangly, red-headed mess. They sat relatively close together in the reading circle, but they never spoke. Not until the day a pair of baby birds fell from a playground tree during recess.

It was Crowley who first saw them fall. He ran away, squealing with excitement, looking for worms to feed the small birds. Aziraphale, watching from afar and trying to hide his curiosity, tip-toed over to the birds. They were much too young to be out of the nest, that much he knew. They’re gonna die… he thought, his tummy twisting at the thought. His hands clenched into fists, then opened again, repeating in a pattern of anxiety. He reached up and took off the white baseball cap his parents had given him for his birthday, and gently scooped the baby birds up into it, careful not to touch them with his bare hands.

At this point, one teacher had noticed Aziraphale’s slightly suspicious behavior, and came to intervene, gently taking the cap from him and walking away. Aziraphale did not ask for the hat back.

At the end of the day, as Miss Nutter’s class waited outside for the school bus, Crowley approached Aziraphale for the first time.

“Did you see them?” Crowley asked, his S’s hissing out of the gap where he was missing his two front teeth. “Did you see the baby birds?”

“...yes,” Aziraphale responded, clenching and unclenching his fists. He was very nervous talking to people, especially to someone as loud as Crowley. “I hope they’re okay…”

Crowley shrugged. “I guess they’re fine. I didn’t have a chance to give them my worms though.” Crowley put his hands in his jacket pockets and pulled out two small handfuls of both worms and dirt. “I was gonna give them some lunch! You saw how small they were!” Crowley gestured at Aziraphale, worms and dirt spattering the ground.

“I don’t think they were old enough to eat them anyway,” Aziraphale said, brushing dirt off his white jacket. A raindrop fell, hitting his nose, and making him sneeze.

“Bless you,” Crowley said quickly. “Hey,” he continued, eyes narrowing, “didn’t you wear a hat to school today?”

Aziraphale nodded solemnly, “I put the birds in my cap to keep them safe. I thought I could keep them away from the rowdy kids.”

“Kids like me?”

Aziraphale looked down.

“It’s fine,” Crowley said, looking up at the sky. A large, dark grey cloud had blown over the class, and it was softly raining. A sudden shuffling of nylon fabric startled Crowley. Aziraphale had opened his white umbrella and was looking at Crowley expectantly. Crowley stared back blankly. Aziraphale, the shorter of the two, scooted closer to Crowley, and clumsily lifted the umbrella to cover them both as the rain began to pick up. Crowley sighed.

----------

This is how their relationship continued for many years to come. A shared look, and very, very few words. It wasn’t that they disliked each other, but their differences heartily outweighed their similarities. The next time they spoke directly was on a farm field trip in the fifth grade. Their small, Ohio school district was drastically underfunded, yet the many nearby farms gladly accepted the students for no charge. Aziraphale was quietly admiring a pair of black and white splotched cows who were occupied with a rather enticing patch of clovers when Crowley approached.

“They don’t have very many animals, do they?” he asked, hands in his pockets. He was wearing a pair of round, dark sunglasses, and he wore his red hair long. Aziraphale had noticed it has been a while since it had been cut.

“They have enough, it seems,” Aziraphale pointed out. “They’re getting by just fine.”

Crowley crouched down to watch the cows nibble clovers through the dark wood fence and shrugged. “I just feel like a farm is supposed to have...more.”

Aziraphale nibbled his bottom lip and tucked his hands into his white jacket pockets. He didn't really consider the two of them friends, and the thought of talking to relatively loudpeople still made him anxious. He turned his head to watch three horses gallop through a nearby paddock. The two larger horses were pretty, dark gold and brown with white spots. But the smaller horse, a shining white foal, was what caught Aziraphale’s eyes. Crowley stood up, dusting off the knees of his dark jeans and turned to follow Aziraphale’s gaze. Two farm hands entered the paddock, and began leading the two larger horses through a gate and towards a faded red barn. The foal didn’t seem to notice, and kept trotting around the field, through a large gap in the fence, and wandered farther and farther away.

“Hey!” Crowley shouted, making Aziraphale jump. “Hey, that one is getting away!” Crowley began trying to climb the wooden fence, jumping up and down. Aziraphale balked.

“Stop!” Aziraphale cried. “You’re gonna get us in trouble!” Aziraphale reached to grab the hem of Crowley’s dark jacket, but stopped before he got close enough to latch on. “Crowley, stop! I’m sure they know what they’re doing!”

Crowley jerked his head around to glare at Aziraphale. Aziraphale froze.

“‘Know what they’re doing,’ are you serious?” Crowley hissed. “As if…” He hopped down from the fence and clenched his fists. “Yeah, whatever. I tried… “ Crowley stomped away, leaving Aziraphale by the cows who had ignored the whole ordeal. Aziraphale looked down at the clovers and sighed.

----------

They didn’t speak again until two years later, in the seventh grade, when a fight broke out between two other students. The crowd around the fight was strangely quiet, very different from the other fights Crowley had seen before. He danced around the outskirts of the crowd, trying to sneak a peek. It wasn’t that he was interested in fighting, just interested in whatever captured everyone else’s attention. His foot slipped, and he nearly crashed into one of his classmates; specifically, a certain blond classmate. Crowley swallowed.

“Hey, Aziraphale,” he croaked.

Aziraphale’s head whipped around. “Oh. Well, hello," he said, looking away.

“What’s this all about?” Crowley’s palms burned. He wiped them on his dark jeans and continued, “A fight?”

Aziraphale nodded solemnly. “Yes,” he said quietly, “unfortunately so.”

Crowley peaked around Aziraphale’s head and through a gap in the crowd. He looked away almost instantly.

“Why isn’t anyone, I dunno, stopping this?” Crowley asked.

Aziraphale looked back at him, worry shining in his clear blue eyes. He shook his head.

"Well, what started it then?" Crowley asked, leaning closer to Aziraphale.

Aziraphale scooted closer and Crowley's heart beat a little bit faster, "It's hard to say," Aziraphale whispered. "Mostly," he gulped, "people are upset about the kinds of things he's been saying..."

"Wha's that?" Crowley asked.

"Be kind to each other."

----------

It had been almost exactly two years since Aziraphale had spoken to Crowley. It was their Freshman year when their school decided to have a "dance." Or, at the very least, a night where the gymnasium would be decorated with streamers and balloons, and a DJ they hired off the internet would play "cool" songs for the students to dance to. Aziraphale, who rather enjoyed dancing in the privacy of his bedroom, was not exactly looking forward to dancing here. But, he thought, it might be nice to see some people from school in a less formal setting! So he bought his ticket, and that night, arrived at the school right on time.

Aziraphale entered the dark gym and was greeted with flashing lights and thumping, bass-heavy music. Around him, students milled about, chatting in small groups of three or four people. Some brave kids danced in the empty space in the center. The music was much too loud for his personal taste, and the songs that played were not songs he had heard before. He realized quickly that other students had come specifically to socialize with each other. Aziraphale had come simply because he thought it would be a neat thing to do.

"Oh!" Aziraphale couldn't stop the noise from escaping his mouth, eyes on the other side of the gym. He made his way quickly off to one side, towards a table topped with a cheap plastic cover. Aziraphale dodged around a few swaying couples who certainly weren't leaving room for Jesus, and arrived, only a little out of breath, at the table. Aziraphale smiled a big, warm smile.

"Well hello there, Crowley!" Aziraphale beamed, looking down at Crowley who was reclining in a folding chair with his feet propped up on the table. Crowley looked up in surprise, the corners of his mouth turning up. "Do you mind if I take a seat here?" Aziraphale asked, already pulling a chair up next to Crowley and sitting down.

"What're you doin' here?" Crowley asked, pulling his feet off the table and letting his heavy boots clunk to the floor.

Aziraphale smoothed the front of his white button-up shirt and loosened his tartan tie just a little bit. "I'm here," he said, "because I...thought it might be nice."

Crowley nodded at this and rolled an empty soda can across the table. He leaned forward and rested his chin on the table. Aziraphale cleared his throat.

"Might I...tempt you with another soda?" Aziraphale asked as an involuntary blush spread across his cheeks. Crowley laughed.

Aziraphale smiled, grabbed Crowley's empty soda can, and trotted away. Crowley sat up and watched Aziraphale walk away. He shook his head and crossed his arms. What is wrong with him? Crowley asked himself, a smile spreading wider and wider on his face. Aziraphale returned as quickly as he left with two unopened cans of the same soda Crowley had been drinking before. He handed one to Crowley and sat down again.

"Cheers," said Aziraphale, tipping his can gently towards Crowley.

"Cheers," Crowley replied, tapping his can against Aziraphale's.

And they drank their sodas in silence, simply enjoying the company of another person who felt equally out of place in the world.

----------

And now, there Aziraphale stood, red-faced and on the verge of hyperventilation. Oh jeez, he thought, what in heaven's name is wrong with me!? He wiped his palms on the thighs of his pants and retrieved a water bottle from his leather messenger bag. He took a hearty swig and stuffed it back in his bag. Just one boy, he reassured himself. Just one person I talked to once or twice. Doesn't make a difference now. Aziraphale took a semi-confident step forward.

[iris-writes-things]

Two Guys and a Baby: Day 1 part 1

Read on AO3, FF.net or under the cut, or read up to 2 chapters ahead as a $1 Patreon patron!

“I thought you had a babysitter!” “I thought so too! But now she’s off to Cambodia for half a year to rediscover herself after a particularly bad break up… I’m sorry, but you’re really my only hope.”

Or, Crowley enlists an old friend to help him look after his boss' baby while she's away for two weeks, and learns a thing or two about himself and the other along the way.

Chapter 1 of 20 Ongoing 1989 words Romance/Humor

Dramatis Personae:

Anthony “Anton”/”uncle Tony” Crowley (An artist turned marketing assistant)

Lucy Ferguson (Crowley’s boss, too perfect for this world)

Adam Ferguson-Zabielski (Son of Lucy, shatterer of eardrums, soiler of diapers. Like his mother, too perfect for this world)

Anathema Device (Crowley’s niece, sassy teen)

Ezra “Aziraphale” Fell (Local bookshopkeeper, historical non-fiction author and former employee at a local daycare) 

It was a nice, warm morning in the middle of March and life was good. Winter had come to an end, and spring was finally starting to set in. Young leaves and blooms were starting to grow in the trees and shrubs in the park across from Crowley’s Mayfair apartment. It was so warm, in fact, that Anthony J "usually-so-cold-he-should-probably-get-himself-checked-out" Crowley ventured to work without his coat and with a pair of sunglasses perched on his nose, ever the optimist.

On his way to work, the marketing department at the global headquarters of a European multinational, he stopped by a coffee shop, greeted the barista, and ordered a latte for himself and for his boss before continuing on his way.

His boss, Lucy, had been a classmate of his in primary school. He had some fond memories of her. But after primary school, their friendship faded. Where Crowley failed classes left and right and was set back several years, Lucy flourished in school and exceeded every expectation. Where Crowley decided to go into the arts, Lucy studied marketing and management. And where Crowley lived alone with barely a social life to speak of, Lucy had a fiancé, a son and a seemingly endless stream of friends on top of her job.

How she did it, he had no idea. But he somehow ended up being her assistant.

“Mr. Crowley, so glad you decided to join us.” Lucy flashed a devilish smile as she snatched one of the paper cups out of the carton the very second he came out of the elevator. Her caramel brown hair was done up in a neat bun, as per usual, and her black pantsuit looked stunning on her, as always.

“Good morning to you too, Lucy.”

“Ms. Ferguson,” Lucy corrected. “I know you mean well, but someone’s gotta show these sharks who’s boss. Besides, I don’t go around calling you Anton, do I?”

“Yes ma’am,” Crowley said. He mocked a salute as he followed her into her office.

'Anton' was what Lucy had called him upon their first meeting one fateful day in the schoolyard, and it stuck to him ever since. He couldn’t blame another six year old for refusing to even try and pronounce ‘Anthony’. Especially when the man himself spoke with a lisp back then.

“Anything I can do for you?” He asked before finally taking a sip of his coffee.

“Well, there is one thing…” Lucy— ms. Ferguson said. “It’s not exactly work-related, but I’m not sure there’s anyone else in the world I would trust with the task.”

This piqued Crowley’s attention. A single brow raised over the rims of the sunglasses he had ‘forgotten’ to take off.

“You know how… particular I can be with Adam’s care, right?”

Oh, Crowley knew. The last year and nine months had been an Experience, so to speak. Every day, Lucy had regaled to Crowley the many things she read in books and on websites about parenting. Once the boy was finally there, she had laid down the law for everyone. Fiancés, grandparents, friends and babysitters alike. She was strict about it, but Adam seemed to be happy and healthy. But that was Lucy: strict, diligent, and always yielding the best results.

“Yes,” Crowley tried simply, motioning for her to continue.

“I’m about to offer you two weeks out of the office. All expenses covered. On the condition that you look after Adam while Belle and I are on our vacation.”

As if they had become sentient with a sense for comedic timing, Crowley’s sunglasses slid down his nose.

“What?”

“Anton, please.”

“I thought you had a babysitter!”

“I thought so too! But now she’s off to Cambodia for half a year to rediscover herself after a particularly bad break up…” Lucy let herself fall into her office chair with an exasperated sigh. “I’m sorry, but you’re really my only hope. Belle is so looking forward to this trip to Croatia, I don’t want to have to tell her that we have to cancel.”

Crowley thought it over for a second. Deep down, he knew he had already decided, but caring for his obscene amount of houseplants proved to be a challenge on its own. Was taking care of a human baby really a good idea?

Then again, this was Lucy. Surely she would provide clearer instructions to take care of Adam than the regular garden center would provide for a ficus. He pouted and bit the inside of his cheeks some more before finally speaking up.

“Okay, I’ll do it,” he mumbled.

“You’re a lifesaver!” Lucy said as she clasped her hands together. “I’ll pack a bag with everything he needs and print you some instructions. Our plane leaves at three, so if you could come pick up Adam at my place at around nine in the morning, that would be ideal.”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure. I can do that,” Crowley said as he tried not to imagine an instruction book the size of a George R. R. Martin novel, peppered with fine print, brightly coloured post-its and a footnote here and there. “Tomorrow at nine. Absolutely.” He whipped out his phone to set his alarms accordingly with a quick note to ‘PICK UP LUCY’S BABY’. Crowley was not used to having to be places at nine on a Saturday, but he liked to think he could do it with the right precautions.

“Again, I can’t thank you enough for this.

“Hey, no, really, it’s fine. You work really hard. You deserve a nice vacation.”

Lucy smiled. “That’s really sweet of you. So, the deeds of the day?”

“Oh! Right, deeds. There’s some calls that came in after you left yesterday, I put a list of those on your desk and…”

*

It was Saturday, ten in the morning, and Crowley was sitting on a bench in the park across the street from his apartment. The sound of the children playing football behind him, using water bottles as improvised goalposts filled his ears. The pram containing Adam, who was covered in a reasonable amount of sunblock for the time of year, was parked securely next to him. He tried to relax and soak up some much needed sunshine, but instead he ground his teeth as he pondered for a while whether or not to also put his sunglasses on the toddler to shield his eyes.

Crowley noticed Lucy had packed the kid red and white striped pyjamas. He had briefly toyed with the idea of asking her whether or not he looked like the Goblin King to her, but quickly decided against it. He knew what Lucy was like when she was stressed, and joking about 80s movies in that situation would not have been the best idea.

He fidgeted with his fingers and ground his teeth some more. He didn't know the first thing about caring for a baby. He didn't know what the right temperature for a jar of mashed vegetables felt like. He didn't know how fast his patience might run out without a smoke every once in a while. He leaned his head backwards and let out an exasperated groan. Two weeks of not smoking. How had he ever agreed to this?

He gave Adam a quick glance to make sure he was entertained with his rattling teddy bear before getting out his phone, scroll through the letter A in his contacts and dial the expert.

"Hey Anathema, how are you doing?" Crowley asked, putting on his best customer service voice. He practically heard the teen's mood drop.

"Need me to help you hide another body, uncle Tony?" Anathema asked, all business. "Proverbially, of course."

"Not quite..." He said, slowly phasing the artificial sweetener out of his tone. Anathema had the best bullshit radar in the family and it must have been blaring at full power. "You still babysit, right?"

"What do you need a babysitter for?" Anathema pushed.

"Yesterday I promised my boss I would watch her baby while she's away for two weeks. And today I'm realizing I haven't the slightest idea what I'm doing."

"And now you want me to look after your boss' baby so you can take all the credit when she comes home?"

"If that's within the realm of possibility, yes."

"Uncle Tony, I have classes to go to and finals to study for. Why don't you ask that friend of yours you had a crush on? The one with the bookshop. Whatshisface. It's on the tip of my tongue."

Crowley winced when he came to the conclusion, "Ezra? I haven't talked to him in months."

"Well, you best start talking to him again. He said that before he had his bookshop, he had a job at a daycare."

"When did he tell you that?"

"When I was seven and you took me to the park by his shop every weekend so you could admire him from afar. This one time you finally built up the courage to take me into his shop with the promise of a new book, which you never got me by the way, you two got talking and he just casually dropped it into the conversation. But then again, you might have been so nervous it went right over your head."

"Yeah, that might have been it," Crowley admitted more to himself than to his niece. "I'll give him a call. You're my hero, Anathema."

"I know," the girl said. Crowley could hear the smug smirk on her face on the other end of the line. "You can call me for some quick advice, but please know that I'm going to be busy."

"Gotcha. I'll talk to you later then. Tell your mum I said hi."

"Will do. See ya."

"Right. See ya," and he ended the call. He went back into his contacts and scrolled down to the letter E. However, he was so preoccupied with his phone that he didn’t notice something, or rather someone, leaning over the backrest of the bench.

“You called?” Ezra Fell, local bookshop keeper and historical non-fiction* author ‘Aziraphale’, asked with a satisfied smirk on his face.

(*This was a point of contention between Ezra and his literary agent. Where Ezra didn’t feel comfortable calling his books historical “non-fiction”. His novels were, after all, primarily based on vague records and nearly non-existent witness accounts. However, his agent insisted on the label, since, according to them, the very label itself would sell more copies.)

Crowley flinched, but didn’t shriek. Not even a little bit. Not if you asked him, at least. “What are you doing here?!”

“Just feeding the ducks some old oats when I heard a familiar voice say my name, so I decided to investigate,” the man said as he walked around the bench to sit down next to Crowley. “Did you know bread is actually really bad for ducks?”

“No,” Crowley said simply, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“So, what about the baby? Did I miss something big?” Ezra asked as he tossed some oats to the ground. Ducks came rushing from the pond and Adam giggled at the sight of the waddling birds. "I mean, I'd assume you'd let me know if you had a baby, somehow."

“My boss took her fiancé on a vacation to Croatia, she’s probably going to propose, so I’m looking after their son until they come home.”

“Since when do you know anything about taking care of a baby?”

“I don’t. I’m just generally very good at following her very particular instructions,” Crowley said as he produced a stack of instructions from a bright blue diaper bag, roughly the size of The Fellowship Of The Ring. “That and she trusts me, I guess. I was actually hoping you could help me with these.”

A small ‘my goodness’ escaped Ezra as he eyed the stack of loose pages. “That’s all for him?” He asked, pointing at Adam.

“Look out, mister!” A young voice called from behind them, but Crowley paid it no mind.

“It is, trust me. It’s—” Crowley bit his tongue as a football hit him in the back of the head, knocking his shades off his face and the pages out of his hand. As luck would have it, a breeze picked up, carrying the pages away from them and into the duck pond.

Adam giggled and clapped his tiny hands.

“Oh dear…”

“Fuck me…”