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freyjawriter24 · 2 years ago

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AO3 is down, so I'll have to post this there later and backdate it, but...

Today's 10th July, which means there's only 18 days left until Season 2 of Good Omens!

To commemorate this momentus point in the @gomenseveryday countdown, please enjoy the little fic below the cut...

August 2008: 11 years until Armageddon

Aziraphale was trying desperately not to think about it too much. He was failing, of course. But really, how could he be expected to just forget? This was, quite literally, the end of the world. And even if it was still eleven years away, well, that really wasn't long at all, if you thought about it. Which, despite his best efforts, Aziraphale certainly was.

He'd tried putting on some music to distract himself, but that had failed dismally, too. What a Wonderful World, Louis sang, and the angel couldn't help but picture it as a mourning song, covering everything Aziraphale would be heartbroken to lose when the war destroyed it all.

He'd quickly changed the record, but for some reason the next, usually upbeat track suddenly sounded sinister.

Everyday it's a-gettin' closer,

Goin' faster than a roller coaster...

Oh dear. Eleven years really wasn't much at all, was it? He wished Crowley were here. Why had he only agreed to meet with him the following morning? That was hours away. And in the meantime, he had to sit with memories of destruction and the echo of Buddy's words circling around in his head.

Everyday it's a-gettin' closer...

August 2009: 10 years until the Apocalypse

A decade left, now. Only a decade. Crowley had slept through more than one of those by accident, and now it was all the time they had remaining until either the Earth was annihilated or they, impossibly, miraculously, succeeded. Ten years.

You wouldn't think it, looking at him. Warlock Dowling, the Antichrist. It didn't feel real, watching the rise and fall of his chest as he slept. He was still so small. One year old, and so much potential held within him. He looked like any other human child.

Still, ten years. Just a drop in the ocean in Crowley's lifetime, but for a human – a human child in particular – that was aeons. They had time. Time to guide him, time to encourage him, time to carefully balance the good and bad impulses in him so that Hell would fail and Heaven would be denied their war. They could do this. They still had time.

August 2010: 9 years until the End of the World

"It's admirable, really," Michael mused, only half sincere.

"Naïve, is what it is," Gabriel grumbled. "And now we're getting yearly check-ins, as if anything at all is going to change."

Michael nodded sympathetically, and shuffled some paperwork on her desk. She wouldn't have minded Aziraphale's visits really – it often made for an entertaining change of pace, watching him attempt to make his busywork sound important – except that they always seemed to leave Gabriel in a bad mood.

"Well, at least you've got less than a decade left of that to go."

"Yes!" Gabriel said, brightening. "Only nine years left, and then war. What a delightful thought."

Michael smiled. "Glorious indeed."

August 2011: 8 years until the End Times

"I don't get it," Beelzebub muttered.

"He always did like going above and beyond," Dagon reasoned.

"Yeah, but yearly check-ins? It's just pointless. We know the child is going to be evil, he's the Antichrist, for Satan's sake. We don't need constant updates just to state the obvious. Certainly not every year."

Dagon shrugged. "I think he just likes showing off. Fair enough, really. He's been doing some outstanding work up there. It's only demonic that he come and gloat." The Lord of the Files rifled through a damp-looking cabinet, and pulled out a mouldy-looking folder. "Have you seen what he did with the global economy the other year? I'm thinking of sending him another commendation for that."

Beelzebub hadn't, but didn't want to let on in case Dagon launched into an explanation. "Why doesn't he come and give us presentations on that, then, rather than some snivelling child?"

Dagon raised an eyebrow. "Because you'd hate that too, and understand it even less. He's not stupid. Don't you remember the M25?"

Beelzebub groaned. "Okay, yeah, fair enough." There was silence for a moment, broken only by the steady drip of yet another broken pipe. Then: "Do you trust him, though?"

Dagon snorted. "No. Of course not."

"Good. Just checking."

"Like I said, he's doing it for his own benefit, not ours. Self-obsessed little prick, prancing his pet project in front of us every year. But at least it's only for another handful."

"Mmm. Suppose so."

Beelzebub looked gloomily into a corner, lost in thought.

Dagon sighed and slammed the filing cabinet shut. "Want to go torture someone for a bit?"

"Fuck yes. I thought you'd never ask."

August 2012: 7 years until the Destruction of Earth.

Everyone was so happy this year. London was buzzing with the energy of it all, the weather seemed determined to echo the mood, and Warlock was picking up on the collective indulgence in the simple joy of living.

You wouldn't think there was only seven years left of all this.

They took him to the Olympic Stadium, and the O2, and the Velodrome, even though he was probably still too young to understand all the rules and nuances of the sports they were watching. He loved clapping and cheering, though, and would do so regardless of who won, calling out with pride when Kenya got gold, when France did, when China did.

Thaddeus was getting more and more red in the face with each passing win for another country, but Nanny Ashtoreth's sharp gaze stopped him from doing anything about it. She'd had the forethought to warn him in advance that there would be no stifling of Warlock's joy this summer, as he was far too young to be trying to understand the nuances of the geopolitical landscape his father occupied.

Harriet sat fairly quietly the whole time, trying not to look bored, and clapping politely whenever either the USA or UK did well.

When it came to his birthday towards the end of the month, Warlock's parents got him a bike. A simple gesture, but one surprisingly aware of their son's interests.

Nanny carefully fitted a pair of stabilisers to it, and Brother Francis gifted Warlock a set of knee pads and elbow pads, alongside a helmet printed with an illustration of grass and ladybirds.

Warlock learned quickly, and took great joy in shouting out garbled imitations of Olympic commentary as he cycled around the garden.

"And Warlock Dowling cwruches his enemies under his heel, shooting stwaight into first place and winning five hundred gold medals for Team GB. And, uh, America."

Nanny watched with pride, and ignored the flutter of nerves that whispered that she might be doing a better job at influencing the child than her counterpart, and all that would mean.

August 2013: 6 years until the start of the Second Angelic War

Brother Francis tried not to think too hard about it all while he neatened up the flowerbeds for the garden party that afternoon. Warlock was turning five, and miraculously the weather had speckled the garden with enough rain overnight to keep everything looking green and vibrant without threatening any ruination to the outdoor celebration that was to come.

Five years old. Six years left.

He tried not to think about flaming swords and burning wings. Tried not to consider what might become of this garden in a few short years if they failed. Tried not to imagine what would happen to the Antichrist himself if he accepted all his inborn power.

"Brovver Francis!" came a high-pitched call, and the gardener turned to see Warlock – still tiny, really, barely more than a toddler – running across the grass towards him, Nanny following protectively just behind.

"Hello young Master Warlock. And happiest of birthdays to you! How old are you now?"

"Four," Warlock said, a little uncertainly.

"Ah, you were four, weren't you my little Prince of Darkness," Nanny said, crouching down. "But today is your birthday, and that means you get to add one year to your age! So how old are you now?"

"Five!" Warlock said brightly.

"Yes, you clever little cherub!" Brother Francis beamed.

Cherub? Nanny mouthed over Warlock's head.

Francis raised his eyebrows and shrugged slightly. Ashtoreth rolled her eyes.

"Almost halfway to conquering the world, aren't you, my little charcoal dove?"

The gardener gave Nanny a look then, too, but she just smiled, a touch wickedly.

"Come on then, Warlock, let's let Brother Francis finish his work so everything's ready for your party."

"Okay Nanny! Bye Brovver Francis!"

"Goodbye, Warlock!"

Only six years left.

August 2014: 5 years until the End of Humanity

Warlock was turning six this year. He was very excited.

Six was bigger than five, and four, and three, and two, and one. It was much bigger than zero. Not quite as big as seven, true, but six was a very good number. It did lots of clever things with factors and division, which Warlock liked, and it had a special sort of meaning when three of them were next to each other, which Nanny liked. And three was half of six, too, so even better. Warlock liked maths a lot.

Six was also over halfway to eleven, which Nanny said was going to be important. That was when he'd come into his powers and rule the world. Mummy said it was when he'd go to big school, too, so maybe that was what Nanny meant. But either way, he was over halfway there now. Six was a very good number.

August 2015: 4 years until the Events of Revelations Come to Pass

Warlock had been looking forward to his birthday, as usual, until he'd learnt from his father that seven-year-olds don't have nannies, they have tutors, and that meant Ashtoreth would be leaving him soon. The child was heartbroken, and even Nanny couldn't console him for several days.

He seemed to cheer up a bit, though, when he met the first of his two new tutors – Mr Harrison, it appeared to Thaddeus and Harriet, was exactly the sort of no-nonsense teacher that little Warlock needed to get over his childish attachment to his Nanny. Warlock looked up at his new tutor in awe, and chose not to suggest otherwise to his parents.

The changeover day was to be his birthday, when neither Nanny nor tutors would be required, and it thus marked a turning point in young Warlock's life. But he knew he would be safe. Growing up wasn't all that scary when you had trusted people there to protect you. And, as it turned out, Mr Cortese looked rather familiar too. Maybe the future was going to be okay after all.

August 2016: 3 years until the End of Days

"Maths! Why did it have to be maths?"

"I don't know. I can't imagine where he gets it from."

"Makes no sense at all."

Warlock was thriving in his lessons, but that was the one thing Mr Harrison really couldn't get over. Maths.

"I mean, if it had been anything else..."

"Well, perhaps it's our fault. We really should have learnt enough by now to keep up with him on it."

"Yes, but..." Mr Harrison spluttered for a moment, unable to articulate his thoughts. "It's maths."

"Point taken."

The only maths Mr Harrison was capable of doing at the moment was subtraction. Specifically, counting down from eleven. And he was getting shockingly close to zero now...

August 2017: 2 years until the Day of Reckoning

Mr Cortese was getting rather into this teaching lark. He hadn't done much of it for centuries, but the knack hadn't left him, and he was rather enjoying things. Pity about the maths, but he was less distraught about that than his counterpart.

He just had to remember that this wasn't forever. It was a temporary measure, designed to prevent the end of the human race and all life on earth.

He didn't like reminding himself of that. But needs must. He shouldn't lose sight of the goal.

Not that Buddy was letting him forget any time soon.

August 2018: 1 year until Judgement Day

The tutors both got Warlock's birthday off, and so Crowley and Aziraphale were holed up in the bookshop, celebrating dismally the one-year-left anniversary.

"It will be fine, won't it?"

"We've done all we can."

"Not quite yet. Still a year left."

"Yes. A year."

They sat in silence for a long while. Well, the outside world was silent – Aziraphale could still hear the echoes of an earworm he'd had for the last decade, insistent and unrelenting. He began to tap his foot absentmindedly.

"What's that you've got there, angel?" Crowley asked after a few moments.

"Hmm?"

"What's in your head? You're tapping."

"Oh. Yes." He sighed. "Buddy Holly."

"...Buddy Holly?"

The angel sighed again, then got up and put the offending record on. The upbeat music filled the bookshop, and the demon winced.

"Ah. Buddy Holly."

Everyday it's a-gettin' closer...

August 2019: Adam Young's 11th Birthday

Adam opened his eyes. Yes. Today was the day. Eleven years old. He he grinned up at the ceiling, then scrambled out of bed, still grinning, and headed downstairs.

Today was going to be a brilliant day.

#my writing #fanfiction #good omens #GOmensEveryday #everyday it's a-getting closer #aziraphale #crowley #warlock dowling #archangel michael #the archangel fucking gabriel #beelzebub #dagon #adam young

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aziraphales-library · 1 year ago

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Hi there! I recently re-joined the fandom after s2 came out and have been craving a kid-fic that features Muriel in a sort of family dynamic, either because Azi/Crowley/both of them are Muriel's legal guardian/parent (Muriel would be a kid) or because they're raising them together. I've tried looking on Ao3 myself, but unfortunately couldn't find anything. Thank you so much in advance, I know it's specific, no worries if nothing's found. Love to the mods this account is awesome!!

Hello. Here are some found family fics with Muriel...

Their Own Tribe by alex23222 (G)

Muriel spots a kid with their parents and they start wondering about who a parent actually is. They go to Nina and come up with some interesting conclusions.

I am Creation both Haunted and Holy (made in Glory) by NonBinaryStarsInAPurpleGalaxy (NR)

An unscheduled molt leaves Beelzebub and Gabriel in the unique and disturbing position of vulnerability and at a loss of what to do. With Hell largely full of unwinged Demons and Heaven full of reliant Angels, they are faced with the realization that Bureaucracy left both sides unable to molt alone. Molts are handled in office, scheduled and overseen by another being - always. Muriel, away from Heaven find themselves also facing down a molt completely alone. This has never happened before, and the Metatron asked them to stay on Earth, or rather, out of Heaven. They don't know many beings to turn to, as they are the only Angel stationed on Earth. In embarrassment, Muriel attempt to hide the panic. Luckily, there's a being that's spent 6000 years away from both Heaven and Hell. Luckily, this being has always been too nice for their own good.

One Of Us (All It Means Is Hope) by RepQueen15 (G)

“You’ve never seen them before, have you? Stars.” “No,” Muriel whispered, eyes reflecting galaxies. They gripped Crowley’s hand tight. “They don’t tell us.” Around them, snow fell hard and fast. Towards the heavens, everything shon. It felt impossible, but nothing was ever impossible with Crowley, was it? “Hope. That’s what stars are.” ** Muriel is exactly what Aziraphale and Crowley need. Soft December fluff! Hot chocolate, ice skating and Muriel seeing the stars for the very first time.

5 Times Muriel Copied Crowley, and 1 Time Muriel Copied Aziraphale: by live_write_edit_sleep (T)

Muriel is learning a lot about Earth, especially from their role model, Crowley, who keeps trying to stop them from copying him. They don’t know why, though. They like Crowley.

Muriel's Stories by rayvennswritingdesk (G)

“A book is a dream that you hold in your hands." - Neil Gaiman Muriel was confused. They didn’t understand what “us time” was, or why Crowley wanted it with Aziraphale. They couldn’t understand, watching through the bookstore window, why they both looked so sad, when they had seemed so happy together before. Then Crowley had kissed Aziraphale, and Muriel had started to make sense of it all. A story of learning what ‘home’ is and learning what ‘human’ is, of making new friends, of small smiles from grumpy demons, apologies from wayward angels, of confusing notions such as truth, time and alrightness, of warm feelings, wet weather, hot drinks, music, plants, stars, of all kinds of love, and of course, most of all, this is a story of stories.

Lily Of The Valley by ChassyOwl (G)

Crowley has lost his own eternal source of happiness and is slowley losing himself. But before he´s about to make a big mistake, he gets an unexpected call for help. Maybe his heart can be mended after all with the help of an unexpected angel.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #muriel #found family #crowley & muriel #aziraphale & muriel #aziraphale & crowley & muriel #mod d

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eiressofinspirationwrites · 1 year ago

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Of Heaven and Hell - Traitorous Heart

Pairing: Crowley x Female OC/Reader x Aziraphale

Word Count: 1381

Warning: Spoilers ahead for Good Omens Season 2 Episode 6.

Description: Aziraphale makes a decision that will change the lives of the ones he loves most.

Note: This fic is written from the second person POV but features a female Half-Demon/Half-Angel OC of mine from this one-shot I wrote several years ago.

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"Aziraphale!" The angel heard the voice of his partner before they burst through the doors of the bookshop.

"Lia, you're alright," Aziraphale breathed a sigh of relief seeing you already up and around after the injury you'd sustained during the demon's attack on the bookshop. Crowley had whisked you away to the home the three of you shared a few blocks over the second the demons were gone. You'd been in dire need of healing and rest you wouldn't have gotten in the chaos surrounding Gabriel and Beezelbub's revealed tryst. You of course had insisted Crowley return to Aziraphale's side the second you were patched up, "I have the most wonderful news."

"Zira," the crack in your voice made Aziraphale's heart stutter. He hadn't heard that sound from you in decades not since... no he couldn't bare to dredge up that memory, "Please don't do this."

Aziraphale realized Crowley must have already told you what happened between them.

"You can come with me," Aziraphale took a step towards you, and his face momentarily crumpled when you fell back a step in response and he saw the tears threatening to spill down your face, "The Metatron promised things would be different with me in charge. He told me that Crowley would be welcomed back and you would be permitted entry. We just have to convince Crowley-"

"You honestly believe that after everything the angels have put me through, put us through they'd just let a demon and a hybrid monstrosity walk right into their ranks with open arms?" you spat, every ounce of disdain and disgust you held against Heaven dripped from your voice like acid, "Do you not remember what they did to me? How they experimented on me? How they fucking hunted me like an animal for centuries because my parents were an angel and a demon? How they hunted and hated a child simply for being born?"

"It will be different now," Aziraphale's eyes pleaded with you, "I'll make things different."

"You honestly believe you can change a system that has quite literally been like this since the dawn of time?" Aziraphale hated the look in your eyes. The doubt and pain in them was a knife in his chest, "Zi, Crowley was cast out simply for asking questions. What makes you think they will welcome me into their sterile white paradise? I'm an abomination, remember? I'm below the demons in Heaven's hierarchy of trash."

"Please, Azalia," Aziraphale stepped forward to take your hands in his, and this time you let him, "I know they have hurt you. I was the one that pulled you out of that prison the angels locked you up in to do those experiments. I helped Crowley nurse you back to health. I may not have loved you as long as Crowley has but I love you just as much. You know that. Please tell me you know that."

"I do," you nodded.

"Good," Aziraphale brought a hand up to wipe away the tears now running freely down your cheeks. A small smile graced his lips as you leaned into his touch, your eyes closed, "I wouldn't have proposed this if I thought for a second they would hurt you. I will never let them lay a hand on you in Heaven."

"They don't have to lay a hand on me to hurt me," you whispered and opened your eyes to meet his, "Please, Aziraphale. We've worked so hard for the life we've made here. Why do you want to give it up? We're free here. Finally free after centuries of hiding who we are. In Heaven, there will be rules and expectations even you can't change."

"Azalia," Azirphale started but you cut him off.

"I know you believe in Heaven. That you believe they can change," you took the hand he held to your face in yours and squeezed it gently as you lowered it, "I wish I could believe in that as much as you do."

"Lia," it was Aziraphale's turn for his voice to crack, "Don't do this. I can't lose you, too."

"I'm sorry Aziraphale," you let your hands fall from his and began to back away, "I love you so much, but if you go back to Heaven... I can't go with you. Not after everything they've put all of us through. Not just me but you and Crowley. I know you can't see it yet, but Heaven has victimized you, too, and I can't forgive any of it."

Aziraphale was speechless as he watched you turn your back on him and walk for the door just like Crowley had. Hope fluttered in his chest as you paused upon the threshold of the shop.

"If you change your mind about all of this madness with Heaven," you didn't so much as turn your head as you spoke instead keeping your eyes fixed on the door as you held it, "You know where to find us."

Not me. Us.

As you pushed your way out of the bookshop and disappeared into the morning crowds, it hit Aziraphale that he'd lost both of you. You and Crowley chose Earth and each other over him. If the Metatron hadn't walked in seconds after the doors swung shut on your departure, Aziraphale would have fallen apart. He still might.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As you walked away from the bookshop and your partner inside, it felt like you were being burned alive from the inside out by holy water and hellfire all over again. That had nearly killed you nearly 5 decades ago. This might as well.

You might have fallen apart in the middle of the street if you hadn't found your other partner waiting down the block from the shop by his car. The second you were within arms reach of Crowley, he opened his arms to you.

A sob escaped your lips as you buried your face into his chest. The familiar scent of him was an immediate comfort as he wrapped his arms around you and rubbed circles on your back.

"I'm sorry, love," Crowley muttered into your hair before he rested his chin atop your head. He wasn't usually one for public displays of affection but today he made the exception.

"I tried," you whimpered, your face still buried in his shirt.

"I knew you would," you could hear the sad smile in Crowley's words.

Neither of you said anything more or moved for several minutes. Not until you felt Crowley tense.

You turned away from Crowley enough to face back towards the bookshop but your partner kept you tucked close under his arm. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw Aziraphale exiting the bookshop with the Metatron.

Aziraphale hesitated by the doors of the lift that would take him back to Heaven. Both you and Crowley held your breath as the angel you both loved so passionately stood on the threshold of a decision that would change your lives forever. If the thoughts of two people alone had the power to change the will of another, Aziraphale never would have taken that final step away from his partners.

"Let's go home," Crowley whispered after the doors to Heaven closed on the pair of angels.

He was the first to move and ushered you around the Bentley towards the passenger side. He kept his arm around you as he opened the door and only broke contact when you were seated inside the car.

Your thoughts drifted away from the Bentley as Crowley started the car and pulled away into the street to drive to the home you had once shared with the two loves of your life.

Now where it had once been three it would only be two hearts in that home.

You wanted to hate Aziraphale for forcing you to choose like this. You wanted to hate him for being blinded by Heaven and not seeing the truth in why you and Crowley couldn't go. You wanted to hate him for leaving both of you. You wanted to hate him for it all so badly but your traitorous heart wouldn't let you.

You'd loved the Angel of the Eastern Gate so much and for so long it wasn't likely the hurt of today would dim that any time soon.

#good omens #good omens fanfic #good omens season 2 spoilers #good omens spoilers #crowley x reader #reader insert #anthony janthony crowley #crowley x aziraphale #crowley x reader x aziraphale #good omens hurt no comfort #hurt/no comfort #Eiress: Of Heaven and Hell #good omens 2

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darkhighness · 1 year ago

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Good Omentober Day 28 - Zombies

Prompt by @disaster-dog

Crowley watches some scary movies with Aziraphale and enjoys watching the angel squirm.

With a bowl of popcorn at the ready and admittedly too many wine bottles, Crowley was prepared to show Aziraphale some of his favourite classic zombie films. This American thing called Halloween seemed to be generating some steam in England, and Crowley was keen to adopt the spirit. Aziraphale, significantly less enthralled by the creepy and the crawly, was not nearly as excited.

As the opening credits of a black-and-white zombie flick began to roll, Crowley reclined on the sofa, sipping his wine lazily straight from the bottle. Crowley had seen many of the films before, their cheap horror and gore effects no longer having the same lustre they once did.

Aziraphale, on the other hand, sat at the edge of his seat, his eyes barely peeking out from behind a cushion he clutched as if his life depended on it.

"Crowley, my dear, must we watch this?" Aziraphale's voice quivered with unease. He would’ve much rather watching anything else, or even read a good sci-fi book if it absolutely had to be spooky but he knew how excited Crowley was for this.

Crowley grinned, his snake eyes almost glowing in the dimly lit room. "Oh, come on, angel. It's all in good fun. It's not real, you know."

Aziraphale reluctantly lowered the cushion but kept one eye on the screen. He couldn't help but flinch at the special effects and the zombie hordes, “Looks awfully real.”

“Oh angel, this is nothing,” Crowley laughed, taking a small amount of pleasure in the angel’s anguish.

As the movie progressed, the tension in the room mounted. Aziraphale occasionally sought refuge in his wine glass, taking larger sips as the fear grew. Crowley and Aziraphale found themselves engrossed in the marathon of B-rated films Crowley had prepared for the evening. Aziraphale, still much more afraid than he would dare to mutter out loud, shifted closer to Crowley on the sofa. Crowley, pretty quickly getting what he was after, moved to hold his arm around Aziraphale as a small token of comfort.

By the time the credits rolled on the last film, Aziraphale was quite ready to read a good book and pretend none of this happened, “Well, that was…something.”

Crowley grinned, pouring another glass of wine. "See? I knew you'd come around eventually. Maybe we'll make a horror aficionado out of you yet."

Aziraphale chuckled unsurely, sipping what was left of his fourth glass of wine. "Well, if we’re going to do this again I think I should at least get a say in the movies we watch. Something less brainy, perhaps."

Crowley raised his glass in a celebratory fashion, glad to have slowly started to chip away at Aziraphale’s tough exterior. "To embracing the spooky and the supernatural, even if it takes a bit of wine and some company to do it."

After a brief pause, Crowley reached for the remote control. He switched from horror movies to a different set of films, and the Disney logo soon began to play on the screen. He scrolled down to find a film he knew that Aziraphale would love.

Aziraphale's eyes widened with surprise and delight as he recognized the familiar films. "Oh, Crowley, you sly demon. Are you trying to redeem yourself with Disney now? You know how I love Hocus Pocus."

Crowley grinned, his arm still around Aziraphale. "Well, angel, I thought it might be a good idea to end the evening on a lighter note. After all, it's Halloween, and what better way to celebrate than with some Disney enchantment?"

Aziraphale settled back into the sofa, a genuine smile on his face as he watched the familiar film. It was one he’d watched with Crowley many times before during some of their other quiet nights in. A few more viewings and he could probably recite it. He leaned into Crowley's comforting embrace, feeling safe and content.

By the end, Aziraphale was fully curled up into Crowley’s form, gently humming along to the song playing throughout the credits. His little murmurs brought a smile to Crowley’s face and he reached to fuss with the angel’s curls.

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” Crowley teased, watching as Aziraphale’s eyes fluttered shut.

With his eyes still closed, he retorted, “Shut it, you wily serpent.”

Crowley just enjoyed the comfortable silence, letting the previews play through on the screen as they sat. Their bottles of wine had since been discarded and snacks abandoned but the demon didn’t mind. He was just thankful for these moments. After all they’d been through, there was always some kind of anxiety that they were running around of time.

Aziraphale didn’t seem as worried about the development as he fell into a light sleep, small snores barely escaping his pink lips. Crowley gently trailed his fingers along the angel’s soft skin, enjoying each delicate touch. He eventually reached over and turned on his favourite film.

It was a guilty pleasure and if anyone brought it up he would deny it to Hell and back but as he saw the opening credits of Encanto begin to play, he almost felt himself tearing up pre-emptively.

It shouldn’t have made him so emotional but somewhere in the pit of his darkened heart, it touched him. The last time he watched it with Aziraphale, they were both sobbing messes by the end. As Crowley’s favourite song came on, he began singing softly, still softly fussing with his lover’s hair. The language, while still a little bit rusty, came back naturally to him.

Dos oruguitas enamoradas Pasan sus noches y madrugadas Llenas de hambre, siguen andando Y navegando un mundo Que cambia y sigue cambiando Navegando un mundo Que cambia y sigue cambiando

#good omentober #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #ao3 fanfic #aziraphale x crowley #good omens 2 #crowley #good omens #anthony j crowley

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meme-the-frog · 1 year ago

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There is one interesting moment about naming...

So, it just popped up in my head out of a sudden. In their first ever meet Crowley didn't say his name and Aziraphale only knows him as Serpent, Demon, Crawley, Crowley etc. Many names, but none of them which could name him as an ANGEL.

Why is it so important? Well. As we know, each name has it's own meaning, especially in the very beginning when it was the absolute defining of the essence of a person. For an angel it is more than just necessity. It's the very point of their lives.

And in our case it is also meaningful because... Who was that brave and cheerful angel, who wasn't afraid of asking questions and giving advices to the Up Stair? Who wanted the Universe, almost his own creature, his child, to live forever? Or, at least, not 6000 years. It's nothing! And we do not even know his name.

I was picking up some variations of a proper angelic name for Crowley.

The first one, obviously, was The God's Light ('Let there be Light!'). He was the One, who gave these gorgeous colours to all what surround us. And he has so bright smile. Unfortunately, the nickname is already taken - Uriel. So go further.

Next was God is what Up, because everything we see in the sky and above was created under his words and hands. It would sound something like Imalael. Seems to me kinda soft and strong at the same time, Archangel Imalael. Still not what can suit him. Besides, God is also in what Down, in what Inside everyone and everything, not only Up.

It must be the name with so HUGE HIDDEN meaning, clearly understandable when it gradually comes to you. And then the spark of a little idea turned to a flame. How couldn't I see that before?

What was the value of the scene when Crowley creates the Universe? To show his LOVE to the work. He really in love with the Starfactory, planets, nebulas, his emotions are childishly joyful, like when you do something that brings so much happiness. What was the value for him to make a deal with Aziraphale? To show his LOVE to the Earth and people. So much were experienced, so much were seen and tried and done. He just can't lose it. It would be so unbearably dreadful. What was the value of moments shared with Aziraphale, helping, talking, walking, having supper in Ritz? To show his LOVE to the angel...

In fact, Aziraphale always touches Crowley while feeling love around. Always.

Maybe that is why he is not SO DEMONIC as the others, because the Love is too strongly good feeling, which is not available to demons (except Beelzebub now). This love is not about passion, lust or something, it is deep inside you. He didn't fall by the reason of act a sin. Because love isn't a sin. He has it more than God herself.

This is the moment. The Naming. This will give him his purpose, his function, his identity.

I'd call him Amael. Which means God's Love.

Peculiar, open, hidden, protective, romantic, quiet, loud, huge, or in small ways - every. And just like Love - his work is everywhere. Even being demon, still he is the One, who brought Nina and Maggie together, he is the First demon, who tries to avoid murders.

He can't become a true demon due to Aziraphale. Being around angel makes him feel his true nature. And that's why he is afraid of losing him and want Aziraphale to go with him wherever place in the Universe together.

Pure, bright and ginger Archangel Amael.

#i'd kill for that baby #i'm in love #am i ginger??? why i am not ginger #i want to be ginger #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #azicrow #aziracrow #good omens aziracrow #good omens aziraphale #go2 #good omens crowley #good omens ineffable husbands #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #david tennant

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binbogummy · 6 days ago

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Humans are —

Chapter 3

This fic is fairly mundane so far, but things get a little sillier next chapter. But things pick up just s bit in the next chapter. As much as a sickfic can pick up, I suppose.

Some tags: Female-reader | Platonic x reader | Fluff | Sickfic | Post-Seaon 1, Pre-Season 2

Words: 3k+

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

The morning came gently and with it, the roaring sound of last night's downpour had been replaced by the softer tapping of raindrops against the windowpane.

Your eyes had just barely opened, but the muted gray light of the overcast sky peeked weakly through the undrawn curtains, and you could already imagine the damp chill of the world outside, a stark contrast to the cozy warmth enveloping you now.

You rolled over with a sleepy hum and noticed that your phone, keys and a few neatly folded bills were setting on the nightstand. It was the contents of your pant pockets you'd forgotten to empty before undressing last night; placed there with care by Aziraphale no doubt.

The fancy glass bottle he'd brought had also been refilled. You'd nearly emptied it last night after waking up rather thirsty once or twice, but it was once again full to the stopper. A doily had also been placed underneath it to catch the condensation growing on the sides as well as a coaster under your glass.

As you finally shifted to sit up, the ache in your head made itself known, along with the stuffiness now completely blocking your nose. And you couldn't help but groan, accepting that the cold you'd brushed off last night had fully settled in.

Plucking a tissue from the box on the nightstand, you were prepared to make an effort to relieve the pressure in your sinuses, only for a soft knock to rap against the door.

“Good morning, my dear,” Aziraphale’s voice sounded carefully through the wood, hoping to alert you to his presence if you were awake but stay quiet enough to not disturb you if you weren't. "Are you awake?"

You almost responded but felt the slight resistance in your throat and clammed up immediately. You knew for sure your voice would betray your condition immediately.

While you didn't have much of a game plan, you were relatively desperate not to let Aziraphale know that you really were sick now. The still clean tissue in your hands was quickly crumbled and tossed in the trash to hide the evidence, and you resolved to keep quiet. If you didn’t speak, maybe he wouldn’t notice.

Aziraphale’s knock came again, this time accompanied by the silent creak of the door opening slightly. His head peeked around the edge, expression tempered by cautious concern until he saw you sitting up in bed and smiled brightly.

In your mind, you felt caught like a deer in the headlights.

"Ah, you are awake! Very good." He nodded, his head disappearing back behind the door for a moment before letting himself in the rest of the way.

He was practically glowing. Humming a happy tune as he carried along a wooden tray table inside with him. Atop it sat a plate, covered securely by a silver cloche, as well as a small ornate tea tray at the side, complete with two cups, a flowery teapot and the servers for sugar and cream respectively.

You were a bit doe-eyed at the sight but were far too distracted with the thought of giving away your condition to give it much thought.

His happy humming continued, even beaming proudly for a moment when he saw you staring, unaware you were practically staring through him, as he set everything down on a nearby dresser.

"How are we feeling?" He asked, a flicker of anticipation passing over his features as he arranged a few things on the tray. "Still a bit out of sorts?"

Not quite thinking, you shook your head vehemently.

He hadn't been looking in your direction, though, and turned to you with a hum when you seemingly didn't respond.

"Hm?"

With his eyes on you now, you shook your head again with what you hoped was a convincing display of casualness this time.

"Ah, that's good. Quite good. What did I tell you? The wonders of a good night's rest!" He seemed to almost sigh in relief, his smile returning as he lifted the little tea tray from the larger tray table and closed the distance to place it on your bedside table. "I thought you might enjoy a bit of tea to start the day?" The question was likely intended to be rhetorical, but when you only continued to glance about doe-eyed, you saw his expression shift expectantly.

So you nodded quickly, overcompensating with enthusiasm in an attempt to reassure him.

Luckily, he seemed to brush off the strangeness of your silence once again with an agreeing hum and began to set everything carefully in its place, his movements always precise and practiced as he poured the steaming liquid and added just the right amount of milk and sugar before stirring it with a soft clink of the spoon.

After that, the gentle clink of porcelain was the only sound in the otherwise quiet room.

Your head felt like it was filled with cement and your body ached just sitting up, but so far so good, you guessed.

For a little while, as he prepared each of you a cup of tea, the two of you sat in the quiet that Aziraphale had usually found peaceful, but as you continued to avoid offering him so much as a, 'Morning, Azzy!', he fidgeted slightly, smoothing down nonexistent wrinkles in his waistcoat between each action as if looking for something else to say.

But he forced his movements to remain calm and methodical, and was sure to unfurrow his brow before turning to you with the lovingly prepared beverage.

"Here we are~ Just the way you like it." He assured sweetly, his full smile returning as he was sure to earn your signature and always grateful little 'thank you!'

But when he passed you the tea, you reached for it silently, gripping the saucer with both hands and only an acknowledging smile.

His brow didn't remain unfurrowed for long.

You, on the other hand, smiled a bit more genuinely as you lifted the china cup to your lips, taking a comforting sip and sighing quietly at the way the warm beverage offered a bit of relief to the pressure in your sinuses.

Your enjoyment, though, could only last a few seconds before you felt his gaze lingering on you and you dreaded the worst.

You dared not look up, keeping your eyes on your tea as Aziraphale tilted his head slightly, giving you something akin to a stern, expectant pout; like a parent waiting for their child to admit guilt.

Setting his own untouched tea back on the nightstand, the angel was sure now that something was amiss, and his mind began to race through the possibilities.

Until...

"You're cross with me, aren't you?"

You froze mid-sip and finally looked up at him, cocking a brow in confusion with a barely audible, "...hm?"

"Oh, you are cross with me. I knew it!" He reiterated, throwing his arms up slightly as he began fretting in place.

Your eyes widened in alarm when you finally realized that he'd completely misinterpreted your silence. You opened your mouth to reassure him, but the thought of speaking and revealing your stuffy voice made you hesitate. Instead, you waved a hand frantically, shaking your head again to indicate that nothing was wrong.

"No, no, you must be," Aziraphale continued, his voice tinged with regret. "Oh, I've overstepped, haven't I? I've been far too meddlesome? I do tend to get carried away with my... fussing. Oh, I'm a fusser!" He winced at the word, as if yours and Crowley's teasing had finally gotten under his skin.

You kept shaking your head, mouthing the word, "No," and motioning for him to slow down but the angel was already beginning to ramble.

The earnestness of his guilt made you feel awful. You wanted to reassure him, but the more he spoke, the harder it became to find the right way to communicate without using words. So instead, you quickly set your tea aside and reached out to place a hand on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze and offering your best reassuring smile.

Aziraphale paused, his lips parting slightly as he stared at your hand, then back at your face. "Oh- oh... are you... not cross with me?" he asked, his voice now soft and hopeful.

You shook your head emphatically, your expression earnest. No, you were in no way "cross" with him.

Aziraphale's face softened immediately, relief washing over his features as his shoulders sagged just a touch. "Oh, my dear..." he murmured, his hand lightly covering yours where it rested on his arm with a sigh of relief. "You've no idea how much better that makes me feel."

You smiled and nodded gently, but before you could relax entirely his brows knitted together again, this time out of curiosity.

"Then... whatever's the matter?" he asked, leaning in to get a better look at you. "You've been so quiet this morning. It's not like you at all." he added, a new note of concern creeping into his voice. "Are you sure you're feeling quite yourself?"

Of all the moments you could have hesitated, this was the worst and your hand slid off his arms as soon as you noticed that he'd noticed the small pause in your expression.

You gave an awkward thumbs-up and kept your lips sealed in a tight smile.

Despite what the bulk of this morning so far would lead one to believe, Aziraphale was quite observant, and his gaze quickly flicked to the tissue box on the nightstand, then back to your face. The flush in your cheeks, the slight weariness of your eyes, the way you sniffled ever so softly; it all seemed to click into place.

Aziraphale’s expression hardened, “You do look a bit peaky," he muttered. "Come now, let's have a look."

Your eyes widened in horror as a gentle hand was extended to your forehead, and with the kind of speed that made your aching head pound harder, you ducked under the covers to avoid it.

Aziraphale blinked in startled surprise as you disappeared beneath the covers, clutching them tightly around youself like some kind of shield. His hand hovered in the air for a moment, then slowly dropped with a sigh.

"Really now, hiding under the covers?" He chided, "I promise, I'm only trying to help," he coaxed gently, his voice adopting the soothing tone someone might use with a frightened animal.

You shook your head, your voice muffled but unmistakably nasally as you spoke without thinking, "I'm fine!"

That was all the confirmation Aziraphale needed.

"Come now, there's nothing to be embarrassed about," he cooed, the mattress shifting slightly under his weight as he sat at the edge of the bed. "It’s perfectly natural for humans to catch colds from time to time. All the more reason for me to help you."

A hand landed atop the blanket over your shoulder, and you felt a pang of guilt. In that moment as you hid under the blankets like it would do any good, you were becoming increasingly aware that your actions were almost as over the top as Aziraphale’s silly mother-hening.

Now you were being unintentionally silly too, borderline childish, immature even, and it was all because you were in the presence of one of the few people you felt safe being 'silly' around.

There was a moment of silence, the kind that suggested Aziraphale was waiting for you to give in. When you didn't after a few seconds, still coming to terms with it all, he sighed dramatically, the sound as theatrical as something that should have come from Crowley.

You finally peeked out from the edge of the blanket, your eyes meeting Aziraphale’s soft gaze. He wasn’t angry, or even exasperated. He looked... fond. Too fond to be looking at you, you thought, and just fond enough to force you to give in. With a sigh, you poked your head out the rest of the way and let the blanket slip down to your shoulders.

"There now," he said warmly, his smile thankful as if you’d just done him the greatest favor. His hand hovered cautiously, giving you the chance to move away before it landed lightly against your forehead and the coolness of his palm felt heavenly against your overheated skin.

"Oh, dear," he murmured after a moment, his brow furrowing in concern. "As expected, you've a fever."

Aziraphale withdrew his hand and you hung your head as a good few seconds of silence stretched between you.

"I knew it!"

Aziraphale's triumphant exclamation was accompanied by a radiant smile, or perhaps it was a self-satisfied smirk, and you cocked your head up immediately in surprise. "I knew it!" he repeated, his voice brimming with pride. "I had my suspicions last night, of course, but I thought to myself, 'No, surely they'll admit it when they're feeling truly under the weather.' And yet, here we are!"

He straightened up with an almost smug little huff, his eyes sparkling with a mix of satisfaction and concern as he regarded you. "It's quite a good thing I insisted you stay the night, or heaven knows what state you'd be in now."

All that remorse from moments ago in regards to his 'fussing' had vanished, replaced by the vindication that he really had made the right decision from the get-go.

You blinked slowly, reminded that despite his good nature, even an angel couldn't resist the allure of a good "I told you so".

But he seemed to remember himself after a moment, coughing into his hand to begin again with more humility as his eyes settled back on you with a soft look of concern, "But that's no matter now." He amended. "What matters now is seeing you well again."

You glanced away as he leaned in closer to examine you once more

"Let's start with your symptoms. You've the fever, of course and you're rather stuffy by the sound of it, as well as harboring some congestion I'd imagine? What else? How's your throat, any soreness?" He interrogated you with earnest concern.

You shook your head softly.

"You're quite sure? You are being honest with me?"

You nodded. It was true. Your throat wasn't sore exactly, but the congestion in your chest and pressure in your head did make talking a bit of a chore.

"I see. Is there anything else? Anything at all?"

"My... head hurts." You admitted. That couldn't be more true. When you glanced too hard in any direction, when you shook or nodded your head, and even when you sat up or laid back down, it felt like your brain made a soft thump into the inside of your skull.

He hummed thoughtfully then gave a serious nod. "I see, well I'm afraid that leaves no room for argument then. You're far too unwell to be gallivanting about. It's clear you need at least another full day, if not more, to recover properly. And I'll see to it, personally, that you stay put."

"Mmmmm...." You pursed your lips and made a chittery groan from your throat in an exaggerated show of disdain at the idea. Aziraphale was at sweetheart. Probably the sweetest person you knew. But to this day you still found kindness, from him or anyone else, hard to accept. Knowing Aziraphale had helped you work on that. The guy was nothing BUT kind after all, stubbornly so to the point where your usual attempt to deflect didn't even work.

At least last night you had the mercy of going to bed, but a full day if not more of being subject to these levels of protective angelic cosseting might actually kill you.

"Really now," Aziraphale began with a half sympathetic, half exasperated look that faded to something soft and coaxing when he met the pleading look in your eyes, "Hmm," He hummed and then smiled kindly, "Do you think you could do me a favor, my dear?"

You narrowed your eyes at him and he let out a little chuckle.

"Since I must insist that you remain where I can keep an eye on you, perhaps you could find it in your heart to enjoy your time here; under my care?"

Dammit... enjoy it? How could you not enjoy it?

You glanced around yourself, at the layers of blankets tucked over you lap, at the quickly cooling tea you'd set aside and then down at the nightgown you were wearing in defeat.

Guilt, that's how. But regardless, you were sure denying him now, while he was giving you that fond, affectionate look would only make you feel guiltier.

So with a single word, even more final than the one you gave last night, you rolled your eyes and gave in. For real this time.

"Fine..." You scoffed but there no no bite behind it at all, only a deep pink rushing to your cheeks as Aziraphale seemed to feel every bit of emotion you didn't dare express outwardly and grabbed your hand to give it a tender squeeze.

"Oh, thank you, dear! I assure you you're in the best of hands." He beamed, "Now then, I'll ensure that you have everything you need for your convalescence, but for nowー" He raised his eyebrows playfully and turned to fetch the tray table he'd set aside earleir, returning to your bedside with it in hand, "how about some breakfast to start the day, hm?"

"Azzy, no!" You exclaimed with a hopelessly bashful look as he gently set it to straddle your lap and adjusted it just so. "You didn't..."

"Aziraphale, yes!" He countered enthusiastically, once again correctly interpreting your 'distress' as the bashful appreciation that it was. "No tummy troubles I'm assuming? So it'll be important you keep your strength up, and a good breakfast is sure to set the precedent for a good day!

Aziraphale grinned, his excitement palpable as he carefully gripped the handle of the silver cloche and, after waiting a second for dramatic effect, lifted it with a flourish.

On the plate underneath was a big croissant sitting beside a serving of scrambled eggs, topped with a bit of parsley, a few slices of bacon and a small dish of fresh fruit containing strawberries, blackberries, and some orange slices. At the side, there was also a dish of butter and a dish of marmalade, neatly placed for spreading. The presentation was tidy and thoughtful, prepared with care like the kind of thing you'd see served at a fancy Cafe.

"Voilà," Aziraphale said with pride, gesturing to the tray as though he'd just successfully pulled off one of his magic tricks. "A proper breakfast; made with love, of course. Nothing too heavy, just enough to lift your spirits and nourish the body."

"Oh, Aziraphale, this is..." You began in awe, about to insist that it was too much, that he didn't have to do all of this, when a small, 'ahem', from the angel cut you off. You looked up and met his smile. It was soft but expectant.

"If I recall, we did just agree to let ourselves enjoy our time here? Did we not?"

So you took a small breath and smiled, you really smiled, and then continued differently.

"Perfect. It's perfect. Thank you, Aziraphale."

"Think nothing of it, my dear! I assure you. Seeing to your well-being is an absolute pleasure." He reached for the teapot and refilled your cup, adding a bit more cream and sugar before placing it on your the tray table as well. "Now, eat up while it's still warm. And don't hesitate to ask if you'd like anything else. I'll be happy to oblige."

You hummed happily and began to dig in.

You couldn't help the small hum of appreciation that escaped you after a few bites and Aziraphale beamed from his place beside you, picking up his own cup of tea and taking a seat at your bedside. For a few minutes, you ate and he sipped his tea with an air of quiet contentment, reading the morning paper he'd brought up with him and silently emoting to whatever it said.

You glanced at him between bites, noting that he didn't appear to have brought anything up for himself. He seemed content just to sit with you as you ate, but you couldn't shake the question that had popped into the back of your mind.

"You're not eating?" you asked softly, your voice still a little hoarse but warm with curiosity. Food was one of his favorite earthly things after all.

Aziraphale blinked, startled out of his thoughts, and turned his attention to you. His expression softened immediately. "Oh, my dear, I've already had breakfast," he explained, setting his teacup down on the bedside table with a delicate clink. "This morning was a bit of toast with marmalade and some tea. Quite scrumptious." He mused joyfully. "I made a point of having it quite early, you see. Knowing you might still be unwell, I rather wanted to focus on making sure you had the best morning possible!"

"Aww, Azzy...that's so sweet."

"But worry not!" he added quickly. "I’ll have plenty of chances to join you for meals yet. Lunch, of course, followed by afternoon tea, then dinner. And with you bit more settled, breakfast tomorrow morning as well. And I’m quite looking forward to <i>all</i> of it, if I do say so myself~ On top of that it's–" his face scrunched a bit in thought, "what day is it, my dear?"

"Thursday." You answered with a sip of your tea.

"Ah, yes! Thursday! The shop's closed on Thursdays– or wait, perhaps that was mondays?" He seemed to think again but waved the details off with a flutter of his hand and a smile, "Doesn't matter! What I do mean to say, is that for the rest of the day you'll have my undivided attention!"

#good omens #GO #aziraphale #crowley #platonic good omens x reader #good omens x reader #ineffable dads #anthony j crowley #Technically he's not in this chapter but he's gonna be a bigger part of this fic as a whole #so I'm tagging him #Also #I haven't taken requests in ages #buuuut #I'm definitely the the mood for some inspiration #soooo #If you have any good prompts/ideas send em my way #and maaaaybe I'll take a crack at em

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frowley · 1 year ago

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I keep thinking about this one scenario:

Imagine something happens between the ending of season 2 and this scenario, everything gets sorted out and the story is about to end.

Crowley is sitting in that chair in the bookshop, it's late at night, it's really dark outside and there's not really a lot of cars or people passing by, just the empty street and the lights of the near shops. He's drinking wine, just waiting, not really sure of what, but he's waiting. He feels anxious and can't help but to feel a little bit excited too. He gets up and starts looking at aziraphale's music discs, he picks one and gently places it into the gramophone, the song starts playing, that glenn miller song moonlight serenade.

In the front of the bookshop, the door opens, the little bell rings announcing it. Aziraphale makes his way into the bookshop listening to the song that's almost just starting. The angel looks at the walls, the books, the full shelves, the floor, every single detail. His eyes travels from surface to surface, he's enjoying it. The smell of the old books, vanilla, tea, everything is just as he remembered. It wasn't too long since the last time he was there, not too long for them eternal beings that can deal with the thought of eternity, but aziraphale didn't worked like that though, and he missed his bookshop, he missed his safe place, he missed earth. He let his hand slide through the surface of some books near the entrance, while watching the candle lighting, ready to walk some steps, entering more in the bookshop, while following the shelves shapes with his hand.

And that's when they saw each other, Aziraphale standing there, still touching one shelve, while Crowley layed in the chair, legs crossed, playing with an almost empty glass of wine in hands. The demon was well hidden under the shades, but even then couldn't bring himself to really look at the angel, so he kept playing with the edge of the delicate glass. Aziraphale brought his two hands to the front of his stomach, crossing them and taking the opportunity to adjust his clothes, as usual.

"You and your music" said Crowley, getting the bottle of wine from the table next to him, filling his glass up.

"It's just as I left it, every single thing." Aziraphale started looking everywhere once again, still amazed at everything surrounding him. "Every single book..." He looked now next to the demon, blinking calmly. "Even my notes..." The demon looked just where the angel was pointing at, letting a sigh out.

"Well, I tried my best" said softly, not wanting to be heard, taking the glass to his mouth, swallowing the wine.

The song stopped playing, starting again in loop, like if it was the only song in the disc. In fact it was one of aziraphale's favorite songs, so maybe he had something to do with that. The angel started walking around the bookshop, more relaxed, hands now in his back, inspecting the other part of the bookshop, Crowley still in the chair. The steps were loud but delicate, they were in sync with the song, almost like if the angel were dancing with himself.

"So..." The angel stood in his place, looking for those yellow eyes, wanting to see them. "Saved the world again?" He said with a small smile, waiting for his companion response.

"I suppose" Crowley answered after some seconds. Watching again at the empty glass, feeling the alcohol in his veins. "Don't even know if the first time counts really". He didn't know what to say, his mind was overflowing with thoughts, so many things he wanted to say, too many feelings in his chest, and not enough alcohol. "Wine?" The demon offered, stretching his arm while the glass filled itself. Aziraphale shook his head gently, taking the glass off Crowley's hand, placing it in the table.

"I think an apology is... in order." After the angel's words Crowley finally looked straight at him, under the shades, half surprised and half confused.

"There's no need to." He said with a gentle tone in his voice, he really meant it. "Really" He tried to reach for the glass of wine. "I forgot about everything, we are now left to live in peace..." He stood up, grabbing the glass in his hand, followed by aziraphale's intense gaze. "So you'll do the same, right?" His voice sounded a little bit tense, maybe a little bit nervous too.

"I can't." Aziraphale in other hand sounded determined, his mix of blue and brown eyes had a sad look in it, and they kept on looking for Crowley's ones. The angel was tired of pretending everything was alright, he knew they worked together to saved the world, he felt Crowley's honesty and knew he really meant it when he said everything was alright. But he needed more, the angel wasn't going to settle for that again, not now when he finally realized how bad was he starving.

The song started once again, and Crowley looked at the gramophone, placing the glass back in the table after swallowing all of its content. He looked at aziraphale's worried expression and offered his hand.

"¿Dance?" The demon asked, trying to satisfy that thought in the back of his mind, the one that was burning him, the one that screamed at him to hug aziraphale, to protect him, the way he always did. "Not that I love this song." He shrugged his shoulders, waiting impatiently. "But you do, angel." Both felt a chill running down their spines, it had been a long while since the last time the demon called him that.

-------

I got sleepy and I suck at writing scenarios, plus I don't speak English, but yeah that's the scenario basically, that damned song is messing with my poor brain.

Maybe I'll write a part 2, I have in my brain a long conversation I would like those two to have.

#good omens 2 #good omens #aziraphale #crowley #good omens 2 spoilers #aziracrow #go2 spoilers #good omens spoilers #david tennant #fiction #good omens scenario #moonlight serenade #neil gaiman

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usedtrashbag39 · 6 months ago

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CHAPTER 6: Lovers rock

(yes inspired by the song “lovers rock” by TV girl)

It was a cold crisp evening and Crowley was sitting- or rather sulking- in a soft armchair in the bookshop he used to spend every day in with his beloved angel Aziraphale. It had been a few weeks since Aziraphale threw away the opportunity for him and Crowley to have their own life away from all the chaos of heaven and hell to be an archangel.

As Crowley lost himself in a freshly opened bottle of Chateauneuf-du-de-Pape Aziraphales favorite wine he still couldn't help but miss the angel. Yes drinking wine didn't do much anyway when he could easily sober himself up within seconds but it worked in the moment. Since Aziraphale left Crowley found himself subconsciously doing things the angel did like drinking his favorite wine or listening to his favorite vinyls even trying sushi.

A knock at the door echoed through the shop causing Crowley to grumble something under his breath and shift his position in the chair.

“We’re closed!”

He shouted to the person outside his voice, slurred from the amount of alcohol in his body and strained from the amount of time he had spent sulking and crying over the past few days. Another harder knock on the door elicited a low growl from the demon. He pulled himself up barely standing on his trembling legs. He sighed again before quickly sobering himself up, grabbing his glasses and moving toward the door where the knocking became a bit more frantic rather than demanding.

When crowley finally reached the door through his lethargic strides he gave the doorknob an aggravated turn and wung it open. Crowleys yellow eyes widened behind his glasses and he had to keep himself still right where he was. Before him stood aziraphale. The angel. No, HIS angel. The angel hadnt changed much except for a bit of white stubble on his face.

“Crowley…My dear. May I come inside?”

Aziraphale urged softly. His voice was shaky and unstable. The man had always been quick to get emotional. Crowley moved aside without saying a word. The angel hesitated before taking the invitation and walking inside. A small relieved yet sad smile crossed the angel's face as he looked around taking in the fact the only difference was a few more plants scattered around the shop.

“I wasnt going to let your shop go to ruin angel.”

Crowley stated coldly but it sounded like it was laced with a genuine care. Aziraphale turned to meet crowleys gaze.

“Y-yes. I see that. Thank you.”

Aziraphale hesitantly walked closer to crowley to which the demons body visibly tensed up. Aziraphale reached a hand toward crowleys face ever so slowly. Crowley brought a swift hand up to grab the angels hand and shoving it away.

“Are you serious? Dont try that shit with me aziraphale.”

Crowley snarled. His aggression much to aziraphales surprise. Aziraphale pulled his hand back letting it rest by his side tilting his head down to look at the floor as crowley began to speak again

“You left me for heaven after everything theyve done to us. Done to you. You left to be some supreme archangel. You ran after more power when we couldve had everything we ever wanted here. As an us you-”

“I know! I know…i hurt you and i had no right nor reason to leave you like that and im sorry. I know i will never be able to make it up to you…”

Crowley sighed heavily. The angel looked pathetic he looked vulnerable. Crowley took off his glasses and tosses them on a nearby table. When he looked back at aziraphale the angel could see the puffiness and red tint of his eyes. Crowley grabbed aziraphales hand and pressed a gentle quivering kiss to the back of it

“Just. dont leave me again…that would be enough. I need you angel…”

The angel looked into crowleys eyes. They were full of hurt and genuine feelings. Aziraphale gave a small nod to the demon a small symbolic promise to never leave his side. The demon placed another kiss onto the angels hand before leading him over to a small sofa. They sat down next to each other hand in hand just admiring each other and the fact they were back together again. The soft music of a vinyl record that crowley had been listening to was now the only sound in the air. As they turned to look at each other they found their faces inching closer only to be broken out of their trances by the sound of the record skipping. Crowley got up slowly and walked up to the record player gently flipping the disc. He sat back down next to aziraphale this time close enough for their thighs to touch flush together. The demon cupped the angels face pressing their noses together.

“Ive missed this angel”

He whispered softly. Their lips intertwined, and their eyes fluttered closed as they enjoyed the reunion, their bodys slowly melting together more and more as the moments went on.

#fanfic #good omens #i tried

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mimisempai · 6 months ago

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You don't touch my angel

Summary

Aziraphale returns from a shopkeepers' meeting annoyed by the flirtatious behavior of a certain carpet salesman. Crowley isn't about to let that go.

Notes

I know, I know, poor Mr. Brown...

On Ao3

Rating G - 514 words

Aziraphale sighed as she slid into bed beside Crowley.

"Oh, come on, Angel, it couldn't have been that bad, could it?"

Aziraphale wrapped his arms around Crowley's waist and rested his head on his shoulder before answering, "I assure you it was."

Crowley kissed him gently on the forehead and said softly, "My poor angel, if there's one thing I don't envy about you being a bookseller, it's those meetings with the shopkeepers."

Aziraphale grumbled, "Since you're a resident of the bookshop, I should force you to attend."

Crowley chuckled and gently kissed the angel, this time on the hair.

Aziraphale continued, "I'll make you come next time, and you'll be the one subjected to the flirtatious carpet salesman. It was awful. He kept trying to play footsie with me under the table, and he kept giving me flaming looks. Stop laughing, you meanie!"

The angel patted Crowley's belly, shaking with laughter, and continued, "The worst was when we finished the meeting with coffee and dessert. He kept looking at me obscenely when no one was looking at him, twirling his tongue around his fork. He gave me the creeps, I won't lie."

Crowley, now serious again, replied, "Okay, next time I'll go with you and make him understand that you don't touch what's mine. And if I have to, I'll crush his feet under the table so he won't want to play anymore."

Aziraphale chuckled softly as he said, "I'll remind you."

Then he raised his head to watch Crowley and continued in a lower voice, "In the meantime, help me forget this terrible evening."

Crowley complied immediately, leaning his head toward Aziraphale and capturing his lips in a kiss that was both tender and a touch possessive.

The next day, as Mr. Brown walked down the street, everyone could see him flinching every few steps.

Justine, who was setting the tables on the terrace of her restaurant, asked, "What's the matter with you?"

The carpet salesman shook his head and replied, "I don't know, ever since I left home my toes have been hurting, a little bit like someone crushed them."

Aziraphale, hearing this as he left Maggie's store, hurried back to the bookshop. Crowley, slumped on the sofa, asked him, "Any news from Whickber Street?"

Aziraphale told him about the discussion he'd overheard, and when he saw Crowley's look, and especially his proud smile, he knew.

"Crowley, did you..."

Crowley nodded.

"How long?"

"Just over an hour."

Aziraphale dropped onto the sofa next to the demon and shook his head, a small smile on his lips, "Little demon."

"And proud of it."

Aziraphale turned to the demon and, planting a light kiss on Crowley's lips, said softly, "Thank you, my dear."

Then he added seriously, "But that doesn't excuse you from attending the next meeting."

Crowley laughed before wrapping his arms around the angel to hold him close.

He would go to the meeting.

To finish convincing Mr. Brown.

After all, Aziraphale was Crowley's and he wasn't to be touched, even if it was just to play footsie under the table.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Growing Love - Series post S2 - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Ineffable fan fictions Masterpost : here

#good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #aziraphale #crowley #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale

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ridiculoser06 · 1 year ago

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Can’t see the stars ~ Good Omens★

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I got a comment on Ao3 and I’ve been crying about it for like 3 hours now. (I don’t get compliments very often.)

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Aziraphale lay looking up at God's magnificent galaxy. All those pretty lights made just for those little humans.

"Aren't they just wonderful? All those planets, and yet here we are. Our Earth.” Aziraphale said, sighing, stunned by the world's beauty "And to think that we helped build some of this. It’s mesmerising, we are such an integral part of this world Crowley. It really makes you thankful for creation- doesn't it?"

Crowley lay by Aziraphale, looking up and seeing nothing, tears began to form in his eyes.

"You made that one." Aziraphale glanced at Crowley and saw tears running down her cheeks. "... I remember... it was beautiful wasnt it?"Aziraphale nodded slowly, agreeing but confused.

"Is something the matter?" Aziraphale turned their head to Crowley "All that above us- and you're-"

"I can't see the stars." Crowley hissed angrily, he put his arm over his eyes "I built- some of all that. I built a lot of that!" He gestured upwards, but looked to Aziraphale "And- They- God took away my- they won’t even-" he choked on his words, he rubbed tears out of his eyes "won't even let me see them." He said, deeply pained.

"You... can't see them at all?"

"I don't have very good eyesight." Crowley hissed, still angry but not specifically at Aziraphale. "I don't see much. And the stars are one thing I can't see! I can't fucking see them because they're too far away and they're too small!!! I never understood why I was tasked with building all those breath-taking star systems only for them to be a fucking speck in their night sky!” Crowley scoffed.

“You try and question it- you ask a simple question of Why?” Crowley laughed “you’re tossed thousands of feet out the sky into a pool of boiling sulphur. Absolutely pointless. Stupid universe.”

"I'm so sorry, Crowley." The way Aziraphale said Crowley's name sent goosebumps up the demons arms, it was melodic and soft- a certain sincerity that Crowley had never found in anyone else in the entire universe.

Crowley sighed, sending a shiver up his spine "I shouldn't get so annoyed. It's not like it'll do anything" he began to calm.

"I could describe them to you!" Aziraphale said, excitedly he took out a book from his satchel.

"Why do you have that?" Crowley couldn't help but crack a smile.

"I've been studying astronomy. You like the stars- so I thought I'd read up." Aziraphale said, opening the book at the index.

"Well.. what would you like to-"

Crowley budged closer to Aziraphale "the one you helped me with."

Aziraphale flicked through pages "There it is. Alpha Centauri... 4.367 light years away the star-"

Aziraphale read to Crowley and Crowley gladly listened, trying his best to remember his stars.

"One day... we should go off together. You and me Angel. Up there- into the stars." Crowley was looking up. "The humans don't know what they're missing."

Aziraphale rested his head on Crowley's shoulder.

"That sounds amazing." Aziraphale smiled, a shiver creeped up his spine. Aziraphale wasn’t actually listening to everything after Angel. Angel. Of course, that was what he was, he’d been called an Angel before- he was an Angel. But the way Crowley said it, the slight flick of the tongue when he spoke, the devilish smile- it made Aziraphale weak. If his mind wasn’t so sober he may’ve confessed his undying love in that very moment- if he wasn’t the being he was he would’ve asked Crowley to marry him.

”Angel is a human term of endearment." He thought to himself, “I wonder if Crowley knows that… if I tell him- will he never call me Angel again… perhaps I’ll let him figure that out himself.”

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #i love them #gomens #good omens season 2 #good omens season 3 #aziracrow #azirafell #aziphalhalala- hah.#i’d smash michael sheen. it’s the internet i can admit that freely.

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bakerstreethound · 1 year ago

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Orbiting Souls

Relationship: Aziraphale x Crowley

Warnings: Good Omens S2 Spoilers and angst to hurt to comfort

Summary: The separation weighs heavily upon the angel and demon. Aziraphale reminisces about the first time he met Crowley in the skies as he was creating his beautiful Nebula all beautiful and sublime, not a care in the world.

All writings belong to me @bakerstreethound (Do NOT claim, repost, copy or translate my works to other sites. I only publish here and on A03 under the same username)

Word Count: 531

A/N: Majority of this fic was inspired by Saturn by Sleeping at Last and Cherry Wine by Hozier that @starks-hero suggested to me for a song analysis. I couldn't decide who fits each song more, so I decided to pair them together. I may have gotten carried away with it, but I hope you enjoy. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Aziraphale would find himself searching for Crowley's smile any hints of him lingering but Heaven is oh so lonely and bleak, his status as Archangel changing nothing other than making him feel more alone and craving for a time back on Earth. Nothing is the same, not without Crowley.

Crowley is doing very much the same as he drinks alone curled up in the safety of the Bentley and he finds himself looking up at the stars wondering when his angel will be back, remember the error of his ways.

Say give it six months or so (felt like an eternity), Crowley goes back to the bookshop patrolling around it, he can't exactly help it and on the floor, there's his angel, his wings spread as if he's just collapsed.

Aziraphale pulls himself to his feet, looking at a perplexed Crowley who shuffles his feet, unsure what to do. He pushes his sunglasses higher on his face, expression bleak as if he's in a dream.

"Crowley- I'm...I'm so sorry," Aziraphale speaks quietly, his voice rough, his purple hues almost startling Crowley with their intensity. Since when had Zira gotten so close? His body thrummed, he wanted to pull away but Aziraphale is magnetizing even with a new shade of eyes.

His angel came back for him. He knows this, feels it. Crowley doesn't pull away, not when Aziraphale strokes his cheek, shy and unsure, fully taking in the contour of his face, tracing his thumb along Crowley's lips, stained red from the countless bottles of wine he'd consumed.

"Could you ever forgive me? I realized....I...I was wrong I can't do this without you. I was wrong about Heaven, I was wrong about us, I should've chosen you....It's always been you, Crowley and I-"

"Oh, angel," Crowley hesitates before stroking his finger over Aziraphale's cheek, starting into a hopeful tear-stained gaze, his hand falling to the small of Aziraphale's back. "You know I have nothing more to say on the matter. I gave you time."

The silence passes eerily quiet.

"Yes and I came back! For my sake I...I adore you Crowley. I can't bear to be without you. The universe calls your name to me every hour of the day! I'm hopeless without you. I'm nothing."

Aziraphale shakes in Crowley's arms, sobs staining the front of his shirt, burning through and he bites back a hiss. And there they stay in each other's embrace before Crowley pulls Aziraphale on to the sofa, the one that has years of history between them and Aziraphale says nothing, tears brimming in his eyes again as he leans into Crowley, oh so carefully taking off his glasses.

"Won't you say something?"

"I -"

That's all Crowley manages before Aziraphale's lips are meeting his own and he doesn't break away, feeling the love, the blinding truth shining through. Aziraphale has broken away, they were an us, it was them and nothing more than the universe. Just as it should been and as it shall always be. Crowley has never felt freer than to fall again, gracefully this time into the arms of an angel who had finally, finally come to their senses.

******

Her fight and fury is fiery, oh, but she loves Like sleep to the freezing Sweet and right and merciful, I'm all but washed In the tide of her breathing

******

With shortness of breath, I'll explain the infinite How rare and beautiful it truly is that we exist

******

#ineffable husbands #good omens imagine #good omens fanfic #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale

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the-late-one · 1 year ago

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Hello and welcome to a new episode of me writing a thousand words ficlet that turned into a 4k+ one.

Today, I am presenting you some pre-fall fluff and other things at the end.

Enjoy !

I knew you

(A Good Omens ficlet) G-rated

One star was shining brighter than the others in that part of the universe. A white blinding dot was sitting here, on what will much more later be the floor of an immaculate Heaven's building, but was for now invisible.

"Gnnnnk- Ouch !"

The figure, which appeared to be an angel with his wings deployed, was grumbling and swearing while picking at his feathers.

Aziraphale should have known not to get too close from the asteroids belt, but he really wanted to see the Earth from closer. The project was still kept secret, and the angels were authorized to suggest ideas for creations just because the Archangels couldn't handle all the work by themselves. But the final result, everyone would see it only when the almighty would decide to show it.

Now there he was, hiding, trying to heal his hurt wings away from his superiors. He could already hear Gabriel criticize the state of him. Luckily, he was just a cherub, and nobody was paying attention to him.

"Come on come on come on…" Aziraphale whispered, as if the broken feather on the back of his left wing was gonna get closer to hand reach.

"You need help with that ?"

The voice behind him made him jump, and before he got the time to turn around, the rebellious feather got plucked off.

"Ouch !" The cherub let a little cry escape his throat, taken by surprise.

"Oops, sorry. I'm not used to doing it for the others."

Aziraphale looked behind him to find the other angel standing here, examining the feather with crossed eyebrows.

It was him. The star maker, with his red hair and big brown eyes. Eyes that flicked to Aziraphale's face in a second.

"Ah ! Aziraphale ! I was sure I'd seen these wings before." The angel smiled, all teeth out.

"It's you ! Wait, you remember me ?" Said Aziraphale, turning completely to the mysterious angel.

"Of course I remember you ! Why wouldn't I ?"

Aziraphale stumbled upon his words, "Well I'm– I'm not–"

"What happened to you anyway ? Look at your feathers, are you hurt ?"

The star maker circled him to check on the wings.

"Nothing, really." Said Aziraphale, folding the limbs against himself, "I just flew too close to erm… what do you call it ?... Asteroids ! It's entirely my fault."

"Not my asteroids I hope ?"

"Oh, no ! No no it was down there." The angel pointed behind him, "Around the Earth."

The star maker nodded, palming his chest in relief, "Phew ! You got me worried for an instant ! As you are here and that's my part of the universe. Well, not my part, but the part I helped crafting. We helped, by the way."

"I did nothing." Replied Aziraphale, a strange feeling building in his cheeks.

The star maker jumped in front of him, "You're joking ? Without you all of this would still be dark matter and dust !"

The feeling in Aziraphale's cheeks became more and more present. It was warm, and growing up the roots of his hair. If he could have hidden his head completely between his shoulders, he would have. Instead, he stared at the translucent floor under his feet.

The angel was high ranked, he could feel it. He didn't know his name, but you can't create stars and nebulas without a decent amount of power. Aziraphale wasn’t even sure he had the right to talk to him directly. At least, this angel was nice to him, the small cherub hoping to make friends among the vast Universe the Almighty created. Was he his friend now ?

Aziraphale got pulled off his trail of thoughts by soft hands landing on his left wing.

"Why don’t you use a little miracle to get them all clean ?" Wondered the star maker, absentmindedly stroking the longest feathers.

Aziraphale tried to ignore the chills running down his spine at the contact, "I'm afraid I can't do that. I'm not powerful enough to perform miracles for myself."

"I can do it for you–"

"No !" Aziraphale shouted, and the other angel stared at him with round dark eyes, "No, I don't want you to use your powers for me. Even less for my mistakes. I don’t think she would like that."

Aziraphale stepped aside, sitting back on the ground and gripping nervously at his wings, "I'll take care of that myself. But thank you for offering." He fumbled into the feathers to get back to work, suddenly very flustered.

Why would this angel perform miracles for him ? It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t his fault.

After a short moment of silence, Aziraphale felt a presence sitting behind him.

"Let me help you with that, at least." Said the star maker, running his fingers between the feathers to preen them.

At first, Aziraphale froze, undecided if the angel's insistence at helping him was a good thing or not, but he had to admit that a helpful hand was welcomed. He relaxed after the first few feathers being plucked, but kept his head low to be sure his new friend couldn't see how red his face was.

"You shouldn't do that." Aziraphale said, voice low and quivering.

"Hm ?"

"You shouldn't– you probably have way more important things to do than taking care of me."

"This is important. Isn't it important for you to look good ?"

Aziraphale hesitated, "Well, it is but-"

"Then it's important for me."

A long silence followed. Not an uncomfortable one. Not a heavy one. Just the kind of silence one could find relaxing after a hard day of work, even though work hasn't been invented yet.

It's the unnamed angel that broke it, shifting position to get somehow closer to Aziraphale.

"So, what are you doing here ? I thought you were working on the Earth project ?"

"I wasn't. I mean, in a way, but I wasn't directly involved in anything. I'm not qualified for that."

The unnamed angel hummed, very focused on his task. Aziraphale continued :

"I made a few suggestions though. About plants mostly. Did you know that humans will have to ingest things to survive ? I did not understand how it works exactly but, they will. It's called "eating"."

"Weird."

"Isn't it ? I'm sure it will have a purpose."

"So what did you suggest ?"

"Oh I'm not sure it-"

"No no, go on, I'm curious now."

Aziraphale hesitated. It was the first time someone was asking him about his work here with genuine interest.

"Erm… I thought about something round. Maybe not completely round but, something soft, with multiple colors. Maybe red, or yellow, or green. It grows on trees so it's easy to find. I'm not sure about the name."

"Little colorful balls ? That's funny."

Aziraphale smiled, "Really ?"

"Yes. Sounds funny at least, especially to eat. What a concept. What is it called ?"

"I wrote down 'abble' but maybe they'll change it. To be honest, I don't even know if they'll use my idea."

"I did one too."

"Oh ? What about ?"

"Not for eating activities, it was for a living thing."

Suggestions for living things were only taken from the cleverest angels, because they supposedly knew better about life. That's what Aziraphale heard when the Archangels asked for ideas.

"A living thing ? You mean animals ?"

"Yes, one of those. I don’t think it's gonna make it to Earth neither, I didn't finish it. Had to fix a black hole before finishing it and when I came back the paper was gone, so." The angel giggled, "It was stupid. It's like a long thing with a head but you can't really tell where the neck stops and the body begins. And it has big teeth that hide inside his mouth so they don't stick out of it, and I was supposed to add legs and wings but I couldn't ! They just saw the sketch of the poor thing and went with it apparently."

"It doesn't have legs ?"

"No ! Maybe they'll add some themselves but otherwise it will have to crawl on the ground or something."

"Oh no…"

Aziraphale tried to contain a laughter but failed, and soon the two angels started to laugh together at the imaginary picture of the failed being. Hiding behind one hand, Aziraphale heard a new song that instantly became his favorite : The star maker's laugh. It was deep and unashamed, head falling backwards and eyes squinted so hard tears were starting to pool on their corners. For a moment, Aziraphale forgot about everything around, all the stars and nebulas and galaxies, because the shiniest object in space was the angel laughing in front of him.

When the star maker took a deep breath to stop himself, Aziraphale turned his head right away, realizing just now that he was staring, and that the other angel had started staring in return.

"That's cruel !" Said Aziraphale, composing himself.

"Not my fault !" Retorted the other, swiping his eyes, "Those idiots had to let me finish my work, that's all."

Aziraphale stopped smiling all at once.

Idiots

This wasn't a word anyone was supposed to use to call the upper angels. He tried to change the subject, suddenly tensing.

"And erm- what are you doing here ? The universe is so vast, have you already finished all the stars ?"

The star maker shifted again to be in Aziraphale's view, "My work is done for now. We have other things to care for. Something called 'gravity' for a start, so your humans will not float away from their planet. And it's gonna keep everything in place around us."

Aziraphale made a little sound of approval, honestly more focused now on the angel busying himself with his wing than on his own task.

"So I stay here, checking if everything is working well." Continued the angel, "Plus, this is one the best spots to look at my creation."

With a growing smile, he pointed at the stars above them, "Look. You see these ones over there ?"

Aziraphale followed his finger, but for a novice, every object looked the same. He squinted his eyes, and his neighbor probably saw it because he got closer to him, aligning their eyes so they could look in the same direction.

Aziraphale tried very hard to ignore the funny feeling building in his stomach when their temples brushed together, staring right in front of him instead.

"Here." The other angel insisted, lowering his voice to just above a whisper, "See the star next to the gas cloud. Well it looks like just one, but if you look closely there are two, and a third little one, staying close to each other."

Aziraphale finally spotted the star system the angel wanted to show to him, and in an attempt to nod, forgot for a second their proximity, almost bumping their heads together. But the star maker didn't seem to bother, suddenly grinning with excitement.

"These are my favorites ! Alpha Centauri, I called them."

Aziraphale made his eyes dance from the angel's cheery face to the stars, trying to understand why, in all the colorful, gigantic, artistic creations displayed in front of them, these three little stars were making him so happy.

He couldn’t stop his own smile from stretching his lips. "They are beautiful." He agreed, staring at the angel's glittering eyes.

The star maker's expression changed into something softer, content, as he turned to Aziraphale. "They are ours." He said, scanning his face with a new interest.

Before Aziraphale got the time to ask why, the angel sat back and resumed the preening. "I'm glad you like them too." He said, and for an instant, Aziraphale was sure he saw the angel's cheeks changing colors. Changing into something warmer.

"I like all of them." Aziraphale stated, almost shouting, words escaping his throat like a punch. Why did he say that ? He was meaning it, but did he need to say it out loud.

"Aw, thank you. They're not just mine but... thank you." The angel answered, visibly proud.

They both averted their eyes to focus on the last ruffled feather again, before the star maker mumbled something.

"I'm not getting that a lot."

"Hm ?"

"Compliments." Precised the angel with a clearer voice. "I don't– they never told me they liked them. Up."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Said Aziraphale, a sudden need to get closer to the other drowning him. He wanted to take his hand. He never wanted to take anyone's hand before, or even touch another angel. What was that ?

"It's all right. They don't tell me a lot of things to be honest. Sometimes I feel like they're avoiding me."

Aziraphale took a moment to digest this information. How could anyone want to avoid this angel ? He was the nicest being he met so far. He was joyful, clever, even a little bit funny.

"Oh I'm certain it's just a feeling." Aziraphale tried to reassure him. "They've all been pretty busy lately."

"I'm not the only one thinking that you know ? Actually we're a few thinking the same thing : it's like they were trying to push some of us aside."

"What are you talking about ?"

"I'm telling you, something is up with the Archangels."

Aziraphale was confused, and a certain fear grew inside of him.

The other angel went on :

"Sometimes I find myself in the middle of a conversation, and all of a sudden everyone around is giving me a look and telling me that they have things to do somewhere else. Once or twice, I understand, but now they barely speak to me anymore."

Aziraphale was stunned. What this angel was telling him was beyond understanding. Was he saying there were teams forming ? It was impossible. Everyone was under the same umbrella, putting aside the ranks. And above all, negativity had no place here.

What was even more worrying was that, apparently, the star maker wasn't alone feeling this. Who else ?

"Maybe, " tried Aziraphale, a small smile on his lips, "Maybe they just don't understand what you're talking about ? I like hearing you speak about the cosmos but, I have to admit, I'm not as passionate as you are and I feel a little lost sometimes."

"No it's not about that. Earlier, I was trying to peek on what was going on with the planets, because you know they made an almost exact replica of Earth next to it ? Well they almost erased it, took all of the water off, and put it on Earth instead. I asked why, they told me she preferred Earth, I said 'but why not use both ?' and they answered they didn't have time for that. Samael was so sad, he built it all by himself."

The angel was visibly becoming more and more angry.

"They want to destroy everything anyway. You told me the Universe would be gone in 6000 years. Earth too ! The people you worked on, they'll be gone ! Nothing left ! Lucifer told us. This one is a good guy, always welcoming."

The name echoed in Aziraphale's head.

Lucifer

The supreme Archangel.

"What is the point of working so hard to create everything for nothing ?" Concluded the angel.

Aziraphale released his wing, turning to the star maker, whose face was scrunched in this somehow adorable way Aziraphale saw earlier. He wasn't that angry, he was more confused and disappointed.

"I don't think you should get that upset about all of it. We can’t do anything about it, it’s God's plan. We can’t question it. It's ineffable."

"Well maybe someone should start questioning it ! Several angels even. Maybe you should."

"Would you please stop that !" Yelled Aziraphale, standing up and taking a step away, covering his mouth immediately.

The other angel stared at him, startled. "Oh, sorry, did I hurt you ?" He asked, concerned and looking at the wing he had between his hands the moment before.

Aziraphale shook his head, "No, you were very gentle, thank you. But it’s not about my wings ! You have to stop confronting the almighty like you do !"

"Why ?" Asked the angel, shrugging.

"Because it's- it's wrong !" Aziraphale was searching for a better answer, but he didn't have one. All he knew was that he had a bad presentment about all of this.

He looked around themselves nervously, then crouched in front of the star maker.

"Listen." He murmured, "I really don't want you to get into trouble. If she planned all of this, it's for a reason, and we shouldn't care."

"Why are you so scared ?" Asked the other, leaning closer, adjusting his tone of voice to match Aziraphale's.

"I'm not– … I don't know. I just- feel like this isn't right."

"I'm just asking questions. I just want to understand."

"I know. But-" Aziraphale took his hand in his. It was warm, so warm. It was the first time his angelic skin was touching another, and it felt magical, almost too good, almost too much. But instead of dropping it, he squeezed lightly at the fingers against his palm. "What if it annoys her ? I don't want anything to happen to you."

The star maker stared at him for a moment, not saying a thing, letting his eyes jump from their joined hands to Aziraphale's eyes, and other spots on his face apparently as much interesting to look at. Then he smiled softly, using his free hand to cup the cherub's cheek.

This time, Aziraphale felt something inside of him stop. He didn't know what, but it stopped. The warm feeling nested in his face since the beginning of their interaction flowed down his entire corporation, making him feel like he was about to turn into a cloud of stardust. He couldn’t move, and he was pretty sure that if he started to speak, what would escape his mouth wouldn't sound like any form of language.

It didn’t last long before the star maker took back his hand, letting it fall on Aziraphale's.

"You could make a good principality." He said, his expression shifting into the excited one Aziraphale found himself so fond about all of a sudden.

"What ?" He whispered, his voice half gone to the nearest galaxy.

"You seem so attached to protect me. I think protection is your thing. They're searching for applicants to protect the people of Earth."

Aziraphale came back to himself, "You know things about Earth ?"

"I'm just hearing things." Said the star maker nonchalantly, a smirk stretching his lips.

Aziraphale looked at their squeezed hands, thinking for a moment. "A principality ? Me ?"

"Why not ?"

"It's a very high rank for me. I'm nothing. I'm just a cherub." said Aziraphale, sharing a small smile.

"So ? We were all cherubs once. We just got assigned jobs without asking. You should try. And hey, haven't you helped me create my nebulas ? That's one big step. Plus, we've got you all set, look at you ! All clean and fresh !" Said the star maker, pointing at Aziraphale's wings.

Aziraphale chuckled, looking at his feathers. He turned back to the angel, catching him moving his lips in a silent word while staring at the white wings. He didn't catch it, and instead took back his hands to slide an open palm against the rearranged down.

"Thank you. For that. I really needed a hand."

"Anytime." Answered the star maker, winking and standing up, and he instantly changed his expression again. "Not that you should get hit by meteors again ! But, if you need help, anything, I'll be there. Somewhere. Just– call my name very loudly and I'll come to you."

The burning feeling in Aziraphale's cheeks came back. "Oh that's very kind of you. I'd like to reciprocate but I don't know if I could be of any help at all."

"Noted." Said the other. "Being there for each other, there should be a name for it…"

Aziraphale frowned, thinking for a moment before the star maker interrupted his path of thoughts.

"Friends ! That'll do it. We're friends now !"

"Friends ?" Aziraphale wanted to protest again, claiming that they couldn’t be friends because of their rank difference, but he didn't. Somehow, the shining smile of the other angel made him forget about his worries. "All right. Friend… you're my first friend !" The cherub giggled.

"So are you for me." The star maker chuckled.

They looked at each other one last time, without a word, scanning each other’s face, searching for something, something they couldn’t put a name on yet into their eyes.

Without a warning, the star maker unfolded his wings and turned away, "Well, see you, Aziraphale !".

"Until we meet again !" Answered Aziraphale, raising his hand, "Wait !"

But it was too late. The star maker disappeared in a reddish ray of light across the sky.

Aziraphale put down his extended palm, intertwining his fingers together, suddenly feeling very alone. He stared at the dark spot where his friend was sitting a moment ago, mumbling between his teeth.

"You didn't tell me your name…"

***

"I'm Aziraphale ! By the way."

Crawly looked at him from head to toes, eyebrows crossed, "Yeah. I know." He said with a soft voice.

Aziraphale couldn’t contain his surprise, along with the feeling of happiness and relief growing in his chest. "You- You know ? You remem–"

"Yeah, I heard you talking with the humans. It's not my first day here, y'know. Had to do a little bit of scouting before executing the plan."

Aziraphale's expectations died there and then. Crawly, as it was his name now, wasn't remembering him. He had no idea how bad of an effect the fall could have on an angel, and sadly, he was starting to get the picture. The demon next to him was only looking like someone he used to know, he probably wasn't him at all anymore.

His hair wasn't looking as soft, his skin was paler, his eyes the ones of a snake. His wings were pitch black and ruffled, not white and impeccably preened.

He was someone else.

"Thank you."

Aziraphale didn’t answer, only nodding at the unexpected gratitude. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Crawly for too long, memories of his lost friend stinging his heart like a thousand wasps. Instead, he kept observing Eve and Adam going away in the desert.

When they disappeared from his view, he sighed, tilting his head to the sky to feel the rain pouring on his face.

"Interesting." He mumbled.

Crawly was still looking at him. He could feel the golden eyes heavy on him. Maybe it was the first time he was seeing an angel since his fall. Or maybe he was trying to remember…

"It’s called 'rain'." said Aziraphale. "I heard God talk about it but I never thought I would see it happening."

Crawly turned his eyes away.

"Amazing isn’t it ?"

"Huh ? Yeah…"

They both looked away.

"You’re not afraid of me ?" Asked Crawly.

The question was strange. "Should I ?"

Crawly took a minute to answer, "I don't know. I'm a demon, we're supposed to fight each other, aren't we ?"

"I don't wanna fight. It's not my role. Do you think I'm a danger to you ?"

Crawly’s eyes danced from the angel's face to his wing above his head, then he scoffed, "Really ?" He shook his head. "I don't wanna fight either."

The rain eventually stopped, leaving the two beings completely soaked. They parted ways, Crawly awkwardly stepping away from where he was being sheltered.

Aziraphale shook his wings in a few bats before starting to preen them, using just enough of a miracle to dry them clean. He was done in a few seconds.

"Well, that was something !" He said, with a cheeky smile on his face. "A few more minutes and we would have turned into fish !"

Crawly, on his side, wasn't in the mood for a laugh, struggling with his damp feathers.

"It’s not an easy task, is it ?" Tried Aziraphale, guardedly approaching the demon.

"I’ve never been wet before." Said Crawly, shaking his wings.

Aziraphale fumbled with his hands before stepping closer, "I can give you a hand if you wa–"

"No ! I can do it myself !"

It was brutal and defensive. Snake eyes fiercely piercing through the angel's ones. It was so aggressive that Aziraphale had to back off to feel safe again, the demon's aura becoming darker.

"All right." Aziraphale whispered.

They stopped Interacting for a few seconds before Aziraphale started again, opting for a lighter tone.

"I have. Been wet before, I mean."

This seemed to get Crawly’s attention back, but the demon was still looking away. Aziraphale went on.

"I wanted to see the waterfall from closer. Until I remembered why it was called a waterfall. Didn’t know it was only water. Silly me."

Aziraphale smiled at his own story while Crawly looked at him in disbelief. He couldn’t contain a little smirk and turned his face away. Aziraphale heard a small chuckle before the demon looked at him from above his shoulder.

"You are not the principality I was imagining while coming up here." He admitted.

Crawly stood up, deploying his black wings completely.

"Are you sure you don't want my help ?" Asked Aziraphale once more.

"No, don't bother."

And in a snap of Crawly’s fingers, the wings were dry, along with his hair and togas.

He still had his powers.

Aziraphale stared at the feathers with more insistence now that they were completely exposed.

"There are a few broken ones." He murmured. He wasn't supposed to say it out loud, but Crawly heard him.

"They're still growing back." Said Crawly, eyeing at the black feathers.

Growing back ?

Aziraphale didn’t dare to imagine what this single sentence implied. Flashbacks of the war popped in his mind, and screams filled his ears. One scream in particular, and one painful smile.

Without realizing it, the angel had stepped so close to the demon that his hand had landed on one of his wings, tracing the damaged plumage with his fingertips. He came back to the present moment when he heard Crawly gasping under his touch.

"Oh ! Sorry ! I didn’t mean to do that !" Aziraphale pulled back abruptly, feeling the tears that started to nest in his eyes on the verge of falling. He blinked them away, holding his right hand with his other one as if he was incapable of controlling it.

"It's all right. You're curious. I get it."

"I really shouldn't have."

"It's okay, I– argh !"

Suddenly, Crawly grabbed his chest, like he was being pulled to the ground by some invisible force.

Aziraphale wanted to run to him, but kept himself to do so. What if it was his fault ? "Oh no, are you all right ? Did I do something wrong ?"

"Yes. I mean no. I think they’re calling me down there. I have to go."

"But- Oh… so that's how they do it." Murmured Aziraphale.

Crawly stood up, finally visibly relieved, and approached the end of the wall. He turned to Aziraphale.

"I guess," started the angel, "I'm not supposed to say it was nice meeting you ?"

Crawly huffed, "No. I think that's against our side's rules."

"Maybe, until next time then ? Who knows. Sometimes you think you’ll never see someone ever again, and yet…" Aziraphale lost the end of his sentence, reminding himself that he was the only one remembering Crawly’s past life.

Crawly nodded, and was about to jump from the wall, when he turned one last time to Aziraphale.

"It was nice anyway." He admitted, barely looking at the angel's eyes. He raised a finger "Oh and you better clean what you’ve done to the wall before going. Trust me, you don't want her to see that."

Aziraphale frowned, looking around in panic, "How much do you know about what I've done here ?"

Crawly smirked, jumping from the wall to land lightly on the ground, "Until next time angel."

Aziraphale smiled at him in confusion, and watched as the demon turned into a snake again, before disappearing under the lush vegetation of Eden.

A feeling of emptiness gained him as he walked alone along the walls of the garden. The humans were gone, and the only other being he could talk to was not only a demon, but also went back to where he came from. The tiniest hope that Crawly would remember him was also gone.

Nervously, Aziraphale fiddled with his ring, looking up at the sky, mind filled with questions, about why they've done this ? Why to him ? Why send him back to Aziraphale ?

He asked nothing, hurrying instead to mask what he'd done for Adam and Eve.

As much as he loved him, he didn’t want to end up like Crawly.

He didn't want to fall.

But deep down, he knew.

Maybe it was too late.

#good omens fanfiction #good omens ficlet #good omens #crowley #crawly #Aziraphale #pre fall crowley #angel crowley #before the beginning #garden of eden #the author is healing #fluff #light angst

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