#crowley and muriel

[actual-changeling]

a continuation of this post

-

Demons do not need to sleep, and yet he does, mostly because time spent unconscious is not time spent crying, which demons also do not do, and yet.

A deep, crushing pain resides in the middle of his chest—a heartbreak not entirely unfamiliar; he never forgot the smell of burning books and the lack of his angel's presence anywhere on earth. He never forgot what it felt like to lose Aziraphale, and the reminder he received was entirely unnecessary.

If anyone were to ask, he'd deny the crying, arguing that technically not a single tear has left his eyes in the last three months, sixteen days, and seven hours—not that he is keeping count—although there is no one left to care. Except Muriel, who adjusted surprisingly quickly to living on earth and having a demonic snake curled up by the window.

Crowley sleeps and endures a never-ending series of nightmares for about two months, and while he wakes and slithers out of his chair, he decides to remain in his serpent form.

The most surprising development is perhaps how easily he bonds with Muriel. They offer up a steady arm, having switched the uniform for a sunshine-yellow pastel jumper and a simple black skirt, and to hell with it all, the warmth, the touch, the soft breaths, and the regular heartbeat pulsating next to him do not heal the wound, but they stop the bleeding; for a while, anyway.

So they go about their days, Crowley coiled around their shoulders while they read or do inventory, reorganise books, and then organise them differently as soon as they're done, never selling a single copy. They sing, too, having apparently discovered a lot of earthly pleasures during his nap, low and quiet, soothing in a way he did not expect.

Once upon a time, not too long ago, the Serpent of Eden wrapped around an angel's shoulders was a familiar sight. The serpent remains unchanged, although if you were to ask anyone regularly passing by the shop, they'd tell you it seems sadder now, somehow.

The angel has changed, however.

As time passes, Crowley waits not in a garden but in a bookshop, longing for a thunderstorm and a white wing above his head. He watches the sky, he watches the door, and he waits and waits and waits.

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

[angel-huang]

Happy New Year's Eve!!! Crowley and Muriel welcome the New Year together!

"Is this ...... okay to dance like this? Crowley?"

"Well,ignoring the times you stepped on me was good enough."

[intenseperpetualbrainrot]

Uriel and Michael: hi :) can we come in

Muriel, flipping through handbook: piss off! :)

Michael: WELL I NEVER

Uriel: Great Heavens

Muriel: Mr Crowley?

Crowley, cracking knuckles: are you here to buy a book?

Michael:...no?

Uriel:...yes?

Crowley (to Michael): fuck off customers only

Crowley (to Uriel): fuck off we don't sell books.

[goodomens-girlie]

okay Muriel has the best playlist:

not much explanation needed but I will give it anyway

1. Ain’t No Mountain High Enough - they’ve been on Earth for maybe 24 hours and they’re already cultured af

2. Another One Bites The Dust - Crowley where are you??

3. Dancing Queen AND Let’s Groove - hell yeah, they’re already a disco queen

4. Get Lucky - Muriel definitely does not know what that song is about (probably hears Mexican money like the rest of us)

5. Walking On Sunshine - me too babe, me too

[karakuli-by-ds]

Well… I love them

[lalalunamoth]

Muriel is a duckling that imprinted on Crowley you can't change my mind. It doesn't even matter that he’s a big scary demon he was kind to them for like two seconds and that was it. Muriel went from being a cop for Heaven worried about getting into trouble to excited about "US TIME" with the demon (and the demon's angel) because he gave them a good-job-kiddo-shoulder-punch. Crowley my beloved grumpy domesticated demon you aren't getting rid of them congratulations you're a mama duck now.

[ironpool99]

Muriel is like the dog that the dad (Crowley) didn't want but ended up caring about more than anything.

[thescholarlystrumpet]

I like to think about Agender Muriel and Genderqueer Crowley solidarity.

Like.

Agender Muriel: there's all this extra gender around and I don't need it... anyone want some?

Crowley, who is 27 genders in a trenchcoat: Ooh! Over here, thanks!

[finleycannotdraw]

13. Crowley & Muriel ~ you’ve got a friend in me (x)

Everyone ignore that this is a day late🤠

Anyone else completely obsessed with Crowley and Muriel’s dynamic this season??? He’s so patient with them and they’re so silly on their mission to heaven! Why are they fist bumping here? Who knows. Maybe they did a miracle together to fuck with the Metatron. Maybe they’ll team up in s3! Honestly they’d be more of a buddy comedy than Aziraphale and Crowley ever were, because there wouldn’t be any romantic angst. yeah I’m making myself more invested in this concept with each word I type.

[actual-changeling]

winter returns. aziraphale does not.

there have been a lot of internal arguments throughout september and october, but eventually crowley decided to transfer all of his plants and a handful of other important belongings to the bookshop. he wasn't leaving it except to nip over for coffee or take the bentley on a drive so it wouldn't get cranky, so why bother returning to his flat?

it turns out to have been the correct choice.

before the first snow, before the nights got longer than the days, long before the end of the year, crowley cranked up the heating in the shop and curled up in his armchair once more. he does not quite hibernate as such, but he comes close while in his serpent form.

muriel, who has taken to not addressing him by name at all after crowley had told them several times to drop the 'mr. crowley', gently picks him up throughout the day and allows him to settle where he pleases. mostly around their shoulders, sometimes along one or both of their arms; other times he seeks out the warmth radiating from their skin coiled up tightly in their lap.

no one sees the serpent of eden dozing on a lower angel's stomach, and no one hears when they read to him, talk to him.

"he will come back, you know. eventually. i haven't known you for long, but i can feel how much you mean to him."

"it was kinda weird at first since you're a demon, but i- well. miss nina said we are friends, and miss maggie agreed."

"i've never seen snow before; it's pretty. hopefully you're not cold."

no one sees him pressed against the window, uncaring for the chill forcing its way through his slim body, staring up at the sky in a fashion unheard of for snakes, waiting, waiting, waiting.

crowley tries to dream of the garden again, seeking out the blurry memories of warmth and ethereal protection, remnants of a grace he is no longer allowed to carry within himself. the sweet aroma of ripe apples, the smell of blooming flowers and desert sand soaking in their first taste of rain, the feeling of feather-rippled wind catching in his hair, a caress that isn't one, a touch that could be one in a few millennia.

crowley tries to dream of peace, but no matter if he wakes or sleeps, all he gets is smoke and ash and a profound sense of loss so ancient he aches and aches and aches.

still, he waits until that is all he is, a desperate wish shaped in his image.

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

[angel-huang]

Happy Chinese New Year!Share one of my favourite artworks!

"The fig tree forms its early fruit; the blossoming vines spread their fragrance. Arise, come, my darling; my beautiful one, come with me."

And I have designed some acrylic signature boards XD

[intenseperpetualbrainrot]

Muriel: ...hello

Crowley, turning around, stroking black cat: where have you been, young- well, the point stands.

Muriel, looking around: with other dad.

Aziraphale turning around, stroking white cat: wanna try again?

Muriel: oh, did I say dad? I meant demo-

Beelzebub, forming from flies: right...

Muriel: de mom, obviou-

Gabriel: you're not even American?

Muriel: obviously I meant Anathema, not you.

Anathema, from behind a door: NOT QUITE.

Muriel: hold on... How many people are here

(a group of seventeen fall out of the airing cupboard coughing)

[goodomens-girlie]

they’re serving the same dishes

they’re also serving the same dishes

[soliusss]

new favorite specific trope I've been becoming obsessed with lately with is Single eccentric brooding possibly ancient Guy adopting a weird little daughter. aya and bram are so cute. Bram reminds me of Mor-ivinya