#like that was just aziraphale a few thousand years ago

[littlematchagirlll]

it is so precious to me how you can see that aziraphale sees themself in muriel during the tea scene 🥺

[bloodashre]

Sorry to ruin the movie magic for some of you, but it's extremely unlikely that the shots of The Kiss are edited to be longer. Like, a million to one.

How do I know? I'm in school for filmmaking, so I'll share a bit with you.

1. The first reason is the most important. It is very difficult to edit a shot to be longer (and almost never done, especially by professionals) and not have it be obvious. It is painfully obvious, particularly to other filmmakers, when someone does actually do this. I can almost guarantee that if this had happened, other filmmakers in the industry most certainly would have called them out for it. I've personally watched the scene literally thousands of times (I'm not exaggerating) and in my semi-professional opinion (yes, I've already made my own films, though I haven't been paid for any of my work yet), it's not edited to be longer.

2. Nearly as important and launching off the above, it's much more likely - and more easily and actually often done - that it's edited to be shorter.

Additionally, there's no reason to think it would be edited to be longer when it comes to the story. It's unnecessary. The reason it looks so awkward to solve of you is because - newsflash - it IS awkward! It's meant to be awkward!

Aziraphale is caught off guard, during a moment of being about to break down, crying, in the midst of an argument. He was just rejected. He's potentially thought about this moment so many times. It is possible he thought The Metatron was threatening Crowley, which just happened only a few minutes ago! And lastly, there's literally thousands of years of feelings that haven't been spoken aloud - at least not properly, depending which theory you follow.

And there's even more depending which theories you subscribe to that support this even further.

And then, there's the fact that, at least for a moment, he kisses him back. He goes from being surprised, to resistance, to acceptance, to reciprocation, to rejection in a matter of less than 30 freaking seconds - while also portraying all the unspokenness, uncertainty, and fear of 6000 years, as well as a possible threat AND rejection of Crowley refusing to come with him ALL AT THE SAME TIME.

It's so awkward and complicated and terrible - and yet also wonderful - and Michael Sheen is honestly a fucking MASTER for the amount of emotions he's able to portray in such an insanely small amount of time. Please please PLEASE don't reduce his abilities and the beauty of the story to editing some bullshit that any filmmaker with any actual integrity would never do.

[dalliancekay]

Crowley is not stupid, Aziraphale is not an idiot and other assorted thoughts

Or how nothing is black and white and my bullying home and religious trauma is a metaphor not a direct translation to what our immortals experience. And vice versa. -

I don't know what it's like to hang out on Earth since the beginning but I'm sure it is richer than we can imagine we could imagine.

Our two favourite, currently men shaped beings, are captured for our storytelling enjoyment when their time on the Green Planet is about to be cut off.

One has been thrown out from their family home ages ago, we are not sure for what misdemeanour exactly, and is now working for a dumpy place where they don't mind inflicting pain if you misbehave nor do they care whether a trial is fair. So, a mafia, basically. And our hero is tasked with collecting new additions to the unhappy family on top of that. He doesn't much care for it and seems to do the bare minimum only.

The other has been sent to the young planet to guard the indigenous humans and told something vague about an Ineffable Plan that will all work out when there's a War in a few thousand years, which 'our, the Good, side' will win and everyone will be happy. Just tell the humans to behave and if they don't kick up a fuss, we will welcome them Here.

And Here is a vast, empty place, well lit, with busy, lonely bees working and filing, and checking, making sure rules are in place and are followed as written and everything is ticking over; the higher ranks' punishments rare but swift. Everyone has learnt a lesson when half of them were unceremoniously fired when someone said some nasty things about the CEO. So things might not be perfect but at least if you stick to your tasks you will be left alone.

So, we meet demon Crowley, whose family threw him out as mentioned above and his job sucks and he hates it but it's not hard and his placement is rather a nice place so he does his best to not to lose the position. Sometimes he wonders what is the point of it all and that's when he runs into his adorable archenemy, the angel Aziraphale.

Aziraphale was sent to Earth and given a job, one that doesn't seem to quite work out (or does it?) as he follows his heart instead of the rules almost immediately but surprisingly is not punished for it by the CEO. So he spends his time helping the natives, following orders he receives as best as he can and when he runs into his archenemy the demon, he feels a certain strange tingle and flutter in his heart at the sight of the rulebreaker.

They have done a fair job of it for 6 millennia. They avoid getting fired and even manage to take on each other's tasks to lighten up the load and the (pointlessly) random business trips (does anyone Up or Down there ever heard of geography?)

When we meet our heroes in present day-ish, they've been told the End of the World sequence has been triggered and life as they know it is about to end. 

How do they feel about this? Well. Our demon is appalled. He knew this was coming. But not really. It's just something to sort of work towards right? After all, the Earth has been developing rather nicely. The alcohol got better, the food for his Angel, the music got interesting, the clothes tighter... He's having a good time. Yes, he pushes his luck sometimes. Sleeps too long, gives in and saves someone instead of ruining them. He gets into all kinds of tangles to spend time with his crush. He is rash but he's not stupid. He knows what's at stake. But he's angry. And sometimes that's hard to contain. He does go too fast. But Aziraphale is always there to catch him. And if he can't, he waits and worries and is there when Crowley returns.

So about the angel? He knows he should dislike the demon. He knows he should follow his directives. He knows he should not meet or talk to Crowley. And what does he do? Gets himself arrested in his fanciest silks so they can have crepes when the world and humanity is bringing them down with their relentless hate towards each other. He puts on a magical performance when the demon fails to deliver some contraband liquor in the midst of the Blitz bombing.

And, now. Here's the funny bit. Angel has gotten himself a part time job in the past few centuries. He's had a few before, but not quite like this. He has a place he loves now. A safe, cluttered place where a demon is welcome. It's not much like his original home. You could say... it's rather quite the opposite of it. In any case, he never really got on with his managers but tbf he likes his job. It makes the humans happy and he loves the humans and loves making them happy.

He also does not want the world to end. But his fam has always told him that once this bit is over, an even better one will come along. What that bit is was never quite explained but then, asking questions was always frowned upon and rather vehemently so. He's noticed this from the get go... unlike a red headed angel he once knew...

What is my point?

That neither Crowley or Aziraphale are wrong. Or right. Doing the correct thing. Or not. Me. You. We come from broken families, we have been friends and lovers with bad people, we have escaped religions, cults, home countries. Lies. Rules. Hate. We have fought for our love to be recognised as love.

Crowley and Aziraphale live in a world where Heaven and Hell is real. Where Satan rules over a smelly place with mould on the walls and God is engrossed in her sci fi novels and seems to have forgotten about Her Earth project.

You can't call Aziraphale stupid for believing in God. She exists. Whether She has a plan is open to debate, sure. She seems to have claimed so at some point, but then, we all change don't we. Maybe She changed Her mind and forgot to tell the upper management. Maybe She thought She didn't need to spell out all the details to them so they kill Job's kids. Maybe She was vague on purpose much in the style of King Henry II and Thomas Beckett.. Anyway. Back to Aziraphale, our angel on Earth. He is kind, has hope, wants to believe after thousands, millions of years. And this is not stupid. Aziraphale does and is brave, courageous things. And he's slowly learning to trust himself more too. To know the difference. It started with the sword and his overthinking on the giving away of it. He made a decision to protect Job's children. Risked Falling for it. Trusted the demon over his bosses. Not because Heaven is WRONG. Yes, they are. But the thing is they don't care. And Aziraphale does. He cares about humanity. And he cares about Crowley.

Nobody noticed (or did they) how our two field agents fell in love (neither did they tbf) and how fiercely they guard the little secret they share. The smiles and the glances, the small flowers of hope that things can change one day.

And they did change. Plan A, War and Destruction, did not work out. The youngster they sent from Below decided he likes the new place and refused to ruin it. They both learned things. They are still learning. The demon how to trust again. The angel how to question things.

So what's next? The place Above is going to send their trusted agent. He followed the rules last time seamlessly. It did not quite work out but no problem, they'll send Him out again. With a rather more final arrangement.

In the meantime, the disgraced and rather troubling Earth agents have been lying low. Unsure of their places and overall safety, they went on with their lives as best as they could until the angel happened to help his former boss run away with his paramour from the other side and is visited by the Big Boss.

Big Boss wastes no time and suggests to our angel he should come back Upstairs and take the place of his disgraced superior. To use his skills. To be better looked after I suppose. New opportunities. To be close to the big upcoming decisions or - under a close watchful eye.

Aziraphale, not surprisingly, refuses. He does not want to put any of his 'skills' to any good causes but his own. But then. THEN. He is not so subtly made aware that his dangerous liaisons with the other side have been noted and his help in the latest Complication might not go unpunished if he's not careful.

And this job offer suddenly seems FAR more sinister than it did 15 minutes ago. Especially when it is handed over with a coffee (that he does not much like) from a place called Give Me Coffee Or Give me Death.

Our angel goes home to cautiously tell his demon about the trouble they are in and his world comes crashing down around him.

This post turned out to be completely different to what I originally wanted to write. Is there a point? You decide.

Aziraphale's decision makes complete sense, he loves the Earth, his home and Crowley over and above everything else. And he WILL fight for their safety. AND the humans in the process if he can.

This is my very first Tumblr post. Way to go me etc. Please be kind.

[knaccblog]

Aziraphale and "I Forgive You"

So after I watched the first season a few times however many years ago, I noticed something, wrote up a bit of a meta about it and then never posted it. I thought that it was either very obvious or very silly and either way, no one needed to see it. But now it's several years and another season later and again, I'm noticing the exact same thing so here it goes- I think the reason Aziraphale keeps saying that he forgives Crowley has overall very little to do with what Crowley has just done right before Aziraphale says it and much more to do with a secret Aziraphale hides deep within himself and has for thousands of years, a truth that he hates to acknowledge and is terrified to speak aloud: he thinks God is wrong to have not Forgiven Crowley.

Get settled in because this is gonna take a bit.

The first time I started noticing this really clearly is the Bandstand Breakup scene. Crowley starts by cussing God literally out- "For the record, great, pustulant, mangled bollocks to the Great blasted Plan." To which Aziraphale says, "May you be forgiven." And yes, Crowley has just sinned and Aziraphale is a stuffy angel but the way Aziraphale says it is like a hope, atleast to my ears. Like he's really wishing that God will see how good Crowley truly is and bring him back to Heaven even though he keeps doing stupid stuff like this

Anyway, Crowley then responds with, "I won't be forgiven. Not ever. Part of a demon's job description. Unforgivable. That's what I am." And Aziraphale responds again with a hopeful sounding, "You were an angel once." At this point, I was almost sure that he's talking about his personal wishes here. It sounds like he's saying, "Come on, Crowley. There's a chance." To which Crowley responds, "That was a long time ago," basically saying it's impossible and shutting that whole bit of the conversation down. And you can just watch Aziraphale's face fall at that, like it kills him for that to be true. 

The next time the topic of forgiveness and Crowley comes up is when Crowley shows up to beg Aziraphale to run away with him one last time. In this conversation, Aziraphale is very adamant that if he talks to the right people, they won't want the apocalypse and they'll stop it. He, of course, thinks this because his most core belief is that God is good and that even if we don't understand how what God is doing is good right now, it will lead to goodness eventually via the Rube Goldburg machine which is time and the universe etc aka God is ineffable. But even Aziraphale can't imagine how the ineffable Rube Goldburg machine could turn an event where everything on earth dies into a good one so therefore, he's certain that God doesn't want the Apocalypse.

Crowley responds to this hope with, "You're so clever. How can someone as clever as you be so stupid?" to which Aziraphale responds, "I forgive you" in a very gentle but sure tone. And now yes, while it is entirely possible that Aziraphale is forgiving Crowley for calling him stupid, I've always felt like that would be a rather weighty response considering how mild an insult it is. It's also possible (and I feel slightly more likely) that Aziraphale is forgiving Crowley for his lack of faith, his inability to believe in the goodness of God anymore. 

And that could definitely be it, but if we think about the way Aziraphale had talked about forgiveness at the Bandstand, the hope and desire that he seemed to put into the idea of forgiveness and Crowley and the fact that Crowley had dismissed it as entirely impossible for him to ever be forgiven, than a third read of Aziraphale's "I forgive you" emerges: one in which Aziraphale is saying, "While God might never forgive you, I do". It's "I might never see you again since you intend to run away to the stars but if this is the last time I ever see you, I want you to know that I think you are deserving of forgiveness. That I see the good in you even if God can't." It's a combination "I love you" and small rebellion against God, because while Aziraphale can't bring himself to give up on Her completely and run away with Crowley (even though a part of him clearly wants to), he is willing to say that She's done this one thing wrong and it's never forgiving Crowley, who Aziraphale can see clearly is more kind and good than any of the angels he knows.

So yeah, that was about where the idea rested at the end of the first season but now we have a bunch of new historical scenes and a new "I forgive you" following a very loaded conversation in which Aziraphale got extremely excited by the idea of Crowley being reinstated as an Angel and I felt like this idea has even more legs than before. 

To me, it's very clear that Aziraphale's pitch for Crowley to come back to Heaven isn't him hoping to "reset" Crowley to how he was before the Fall or him being incapable of loving Crowley as a Demon and instead was him being overjoyed to have this secret truth (Crowley is deserving of God's Forgiveness) that he's been observing for 6000ish years be acknowledged and have a chance to come to fruition. After all, as we saw this season (and honestly last season too but less pronounced), Crowley, current Demon Crowley, not the angel he knew over 6000 years ago, has proven over and over again just how truly good he is to Aziraphale.

For example, in the Job sequence, Crowley does a truly good thing that no Angel (beside Aziraphale) would do or even think that they should do and that is save Job's children. And through the entirety of this bit, Aziraphale basically always believes that he will. There are even two moments where Crowley tries his best to scare Aziraphale away, to play up being the bad guy (so as to better hide the con he's running and protect Aziraphale), but Aziraphale's faith in Crowley's goodness does not falter. At the end of the day, it seems clear that Aziraphale has more faith that Crowley will do the good thing, the correct thing than God. Conveniently for Aziraphale's faith in God though, not understanding how something horrible he hates will eventually lead to goodness in the long run is a foundational principle of said faith so his faith in God remains strong even after everything She and Heaven do to Job. 

But his faith in Crowley doesn't require such a complicated work around. He believes Crowley won't kill children and he is correct. Though unfortunately, this very simplicity leads to a new problem, a problem that we can see eventually solidify in Aziraphale's mind, becoming a running theme of their association and leading to the eventual "I forgive you"s.

Aziraphale can clearly see how kind and good Crowley is, how he does the right thing as best he can, even when he could (and sometimes does) get into immense trouble for it. But for some reason, despite repeated evidence that Crowley is everything that Aziraphale believes Angels are and should be, Crowley continues to be a Demon. And once you realize that Aziraphale has noticed this contradiction and that it most likely haunts him and is a constant challenge to his worldview, it colors a lot of what he says in a new light. Many of what seem like simple, self-righteous statements reveal themselves to be Aziraphale trying to protecting himself from a massive logical inconsistency he keeps stumbling across. 

"It must be bad, otherwise you wouldn't have tempted them into it," Aziraphale says, clearly not quite sure why it's bad actually. 

"You, I'm afraid, are evil," Aziraphale asserts, basically stating that Crowley is evil because he's evil. It's tauntological and therefore doesn't have to make sense. (He says this one shortly before Crowley saves Elsbeth from suicide, poverty and damnation.) 

"So this is all your demonic work? I should have known," Aziraphale says, thinking, "Aha, this time Crowley must have done the bad thing and therefore continues to deserve being Fallen." (Crowley has, in fact, not done the bad thing but shhhh, worry about that later.) 

Once you notice this self defensive habit, you can't unnotice it really, it's just so present in Aziraphale's logic and speech. Aziraphale even at one point says, "Still a demon, then?" after the Ark and Job and Jesus because on some level he probably doesn't want to actually evaluate, it makes no sense to him that Crowley is still a Demon, especially when he has also sinned in a few ways (lied to Gabriel, thwarted the will of God, technically gluttony etc) and nothing has happened to him, to say nothing for all the things Gabriel has done (or has just let passively happen without a thought to interfere).

So yes, I think the entire final argument plays out the way it does because Aziraphale thinks Crowley is good and deserves to be reinstated, to be forgiven by God more than anything. 

He comes into their final conversation nervous but excited, to the point where he stomps right over what Crowley is trying to say. "You see I... I have some incredible good news to give you." The good news is for Crowley, you see, because Crowley deserves this and clearly being forgiven like he so deserves should logically make Crowley happy. It will make Aziraphale happy after all. 

Aziraphale then starts to describe the conversation that he had with Metatron, stating that he thinks he might have misjudged him. And why would he think that he misjudged the angel who had told him point blank to his face that "The point is not to avoid the war, it is to win it" about the Apocalypse? Well, it's not because he's offered the job of Supreme Archangel, that's for sure. As we can see in the flashback, Aziraphale seems nervous and uninterested in the job at first. He says clearly that he doesn't want to go back to Heaven and even brings up a very half assed excuse to try and weasel out of it, a soft no of, "Where will I get my coffee?" 

No, instead, the clear, obvious point where Aziraphale changes his mind about the job and about the Metatron is when he offers to reinstate Crowley as an Angel. Metatron has, quite accidentally (I think? I don't think he actually knows Aziraphale's secret soul), just said one of the most faith affirming things he possibly could to Aziraphale, "We can correct that little error that's been bothering you. You are completely correct that Crowley deserves God's forgiveness." 

Given that, it's understandable that Aziraphale is absolutely bubbly about Crowley's reinstatement when he mentions it to him, like the best thing ever has just happened to him even though he's talking about something that will happen to Crowley and not him at all. "You could come back to heaven and- and everything. Like the old times, only even nicer." (Nicer because this time, they are in love. Nicer because they'll both be powerful enough to make a difference.)

Some other bits of Aziraphale's dialogue from this scene that make so much sense through this lens are:

After Crowley tries to reiterate his constant stance that both sides are bad actually, and mentions how he rejected Hell's offer to work with them again, Aziraphale misses his point completely and says, "But well, obviously you said no to Hell, you're the bad guys. But Heaven, it's the side of truth, of light, of good." Aziraphale's faith in the potential goodness of Heaven and the actual goodness of God is unflappable but so is his belief that good is what Crowley wants to be doing. Like of course a good soul like Crowley would reject working for Hell again but why would he reject a chance to do good like he's sneakily been doing all along? (Aziraphale here ignores the fact that he's also had to sneakily do good on the side sometimes even though he was always working for "the side of good" but that is very par for the course for him sadly.) 

The lines, "Come with me- to heaven. I'll run it, you can be my second in command. We can make a difference," are a particularly telling set.  Everything about these from the high position he's offering Crowley to the "We" scream that Aziraphale trusts Crowley, a Demon, to guide Heaven the correct way more than any angel already in Heaven.

Aziraphale's final, desperate argument also lines up well with this (as well as featuring Aziraphale more completely referencing how he wants him and Crowley to be together romantically). "Come back, to heaven. Work with me! We can be together. Angels... Doing good. I- I need you! I don't think you understand what I'm offering you." Like is the "I need you" here romantic? Definitely. But it's also Aziraphale again affirming that he trusts Crowley to lead him the correct way ie goodness, because, as it's been shown to us many times (and focused on particularly in this season), Crowley will do and always has been doing the correct thing as best he could while Aziraphale would dither and be locked into passivity (like in The Resurrectionists).

So yes, after many attempts to explain to Crowley how he should be in Heaven, doing good and Aziraphale needs his help and one last desperate kiss from Crowley, we reach the final dreaded, "l forgive you." And yes, maybe Aziraphale is forgiving Crowley for not having faith that they can fix heaven, for abandoning him, for kissing him so suddenly. But I hope, after everything I've laid out here in this essay, you can also see why I think Aziraphale is saying, "Even as you reject God's forgiveness and leave me behind, I still see that you are good and know you deserve it so I will forgive you anyway." And maybe, even though it's still blasphemous to disagree with God, it's less scary for Aziraphale to say "I forgive you" one more time than tell Crowley that he loves him for the first time. He is very good at forgiveness after all.

[mimisempai]

We don't need to stop anymore

Summary

A goodbye kiss on the doorstep of the bookshop reminds Aziraphale of an aborted kiss on the same spot in 1941.

Notes

50 Types of Kisses - Writing Prompts

Kiss #40: A gentle kiss that quickly descends into passion, with little regard for what’s going on around them.

On Ao3

Rating G -  547 words

Crowley grabbed his glasses from the horse statuette, put them on his nose, and called to Aziraphale, "Angel, I'm off to the planetarium! Bye!"

Suddenly, the angel appeared from a shelf, walked toward him, and said sulkily, "You're just leaving without saying goodbye?"

Leaning against the door, Crowley replied, "I just did, didn't I?"

Aziraphale shook his head, answering, "Not properly."

The demon chuckled softly before leaning over the angel now standing in front of him and planted a light kiss on his lover's soft lips.

As he straightened up, Aziraphale couldn't help but think back to another farewell on the doorstep of the bookshop many decades ago.

"Well, maybe there is something to be said for..."

Aziraphale raised his glass to Crowley's and continued, "...shades of gray."

The demon clinked his glass against hers and replied, "Well, shades of...dark gray."

As he took a sip, Aziraphale countered, "Shades of a very light gray, I'd rather fancy."

As his gaze lingered on the demon, he realized something and asked, "Tell me, Crowley, why didn't you take off your hat and glasses?"

Crowley swallowed his drink in one gulp and replied, "Because I'm leaving.

Aziraphale, disappointed, said quietly, "Oh... well."

Throat tight, he struggled to finish his drink. He wanted Crowley to stay a little longer.

A few moments later, they were outside, on the doorstep of the book store.

Crowley said gently to Angel, running his hand along the brim of his hat in a sort of salute, "Thanks again, Angel, for saving my butt at the theater, and thanks for trusting me with, you know..."

He mimed the gesture of firing a gun to finish his sentence.

Aziraphale replied, "I've been trusting you for thousands of years, my dear."

"Well, again, thank you. I'm leaving now, Angel. Bye."

Crowley was about to turn when the angel whispered, "Are you sure you don't want to stay?"

Crowley swallowed before replying, "Stop looking at me like that. You know I can't refuse you anything if you look at me like that."

Aziraphale just breathed, "Please."

Crowley leaned forward and Aziraphale closed his eyes.

He felt the demon's breath come closer to his face, but he barely had time to feel the touch of the demon's lips on his when a burst of laughter in the street caused them to quickly part.

It was just a group of drunken partygoers, but the spell was broken and this time there was nothing Aziraphale could do to stop the demon.

"Why are you smiling like that, Angel?"

The demon's voice snapped him back to reality and Aziraphale replied, "I was thinking about another goodbye on this very doorstep a long time ago."

Crowley raised an eyebrow and replied, "If you're thinking about something else while I'm kissing you, I must be doing it wrong."

Aziraphale wrapped his arms around the demon's neck and said playfully, "You can try again, come on, make me forget everything."

Crowley brought his face close and whispered against the angel's smiling lips, "Your wish is my command, Angel.

He pressed his lips to his lover's and this time the kiss quickly turned from light to passionate and not even the bustle of the busy street could pull them out of their little bubble of happiness.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable kisses series : here

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here

Ineffable Growing Love - Series post S2

Part 1 Story 1-99

Part 2 Story 100-?

[book-place]

Even the Strong Crumble

Warnings: good omens spoilers, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Crowley x reader platonic

Request: Hello! Could I request something for Good Omens? I was thinking a platonic (can also not be but I guess it would work better) Crowley x reader where reader comforts Crowley when they find him crying after the end of season 2 and just gives him a hug and reassures him? I love him sm he’s a big comfort character of mine so I want to comfort him as well 🫶🏻

Request by: Anon

*not my gif*

Summary: One of your best friend is so broken up over your other best friend that it breaks your heart into thousands of pieces

A/N: I miss this show so much

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

“Crowley?” You knocked lightly on the slightly opened door, peaking your head through and peering into the bedroom.

The demon quickly whipped around so his back was facing the door and you could only see his hands wiping furiously at his face before he quickly picked up his glasses and threw them on his face.

When he turned around, you felt your heart break into thousands of little pieces in your chest.

Though he tried to hide it, his face was red and tear-stained. His hair was tousled and his clothes were out of place.

Never in your hundreds of years of knowing Crowley had you ever seen him in such a state- so utterly distraught.

You had been an angel still when you met him all those years ago, freshly out of heaven for the first time.

Back then, you had been out to visit your old friend Aziraphale, and had been introduced to the red headed fellow. Not only that, but you had also been introduced to the wonders of the human world. Of the beauties and the joys.

In the process, you had fallen in love with the human world and all it had to offer.

So, instead of returning to heaven after your visit like you had intended, you stayed on earth and, to your slight surprise, nobody came looking for you.

It wasn’t as sad as it sounded, though, you had been an angel of no real importance, and now you could live out your long life on earth without the fear of heavens interjections.

Each year that passed, though you yourself stayed immortal, you found a part of you growing more and more human.

Though you had frequently stayed in touch with Crowley and Aziraphale, it wasn’t until recently that you all got together again. Ironically, to stop the impending apocalypse.

Now, after doomsday had been sidestepped, you and your two friends found yourselves going on more and more adventures together, hardly being without the other two.

Now, though, Aziraphale had left with Metatron to Heaven, leaving you and Crowley behind.

You don’t know the exact details of what had gone down, you had been out showing the city to Muriel for the day, but when you had returned to the bookshop and were met with the sight of a heartbroken Crowley and no Aziraphale, it hadn’t been long to put the pieces together.

Your two best friends had been obliviously pinning over each other for centuries, of course you knew what had no doubt taken place.

Instead of pushing a clearly distraught Crowley to tell you what had happened, you had given him his space with the promise of being there when he needed you.

Now, though, it had been a few hours, and the worry that had been eating away at you had grown unbearable.

“What?”

You knew he didn’t really mean to snap at you, so you didn’t hold it against him as you took a step further into the room.

A silence ensued for a moment as your sorrow filled eyes raked over his face.

“I’m so sorry, Crowley.” Your voice came out so soft when you spoke to the heartbroken demon, taking yet another step closer to him.

Though he didn’t protest, his body tensed up and he just stared at you silently.

He was on guard, afraid of letting you in. Afraid of being hurt again.

Wordlessly, you wrapped your arms around him, holding him to you in a loving and protective manner.

Almost insaltanously, he melted into your touch, his head falling to your shoulder and his arms wrapping around you as his body began to shake with sobs.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered again, tears of your own filling your eyes as you rubbed his back comfortingly.

You knew that after that day, nothing would ever be the same again.

No longer would it be the three of you against the world. Against heaven and hell alike.

“W-why didn’t he-”

You had never heard Crowley stutter in such a way, his voice wobbling as he did so.

In return, you held him tighter, “I don’t know.” You answered truthfully, your voice soft, “But I know that Aziraphale must be a damn fool for him to let something like this happen.”

Crowley sniffled, refusing to turn his head up and allow you to acknowledge his tear stained face.

“I’ve got you, Crowley,” You mumbled, a singular tear slipping down your face, “Always.”

Ineffable Husbands 😇- @popfishjr @etanordoesbullsh1t

[actual-changeling]

i think it's funny that whenever i post something about aziraphale not caring about individual humans—only humanity as a concept—the ONLY counter argument everyone always throws at me is 'he gave his flaming sword away'.

mate.

that was six thousand years ago. LITERALLY fresh out of heaven, to the only two humans in existence, who were the entirety of humanity at that point.

let's look at what he's like in more recent years, yes?

ah yes, telling a person living in an alley that her girlfriend is going to hell with a smile. what a kind person. and the wonderful follow-up which sounds like it is straight out of some conservative, capitalistic asshole's mouth.

and fun fact, someone like that has said THOSE EXACT WORDS to me at some point.

crowley asking the real questions here like always

but hey, that was 1827, maybe he was just having a bad year. or decade. or century.

what about the present day? see, crowley is terrified of gabriel and hates his guts, but do you know what he does? he answers his questions very patiently. he is kind. once he realises gabriel isn't pretending he makes him hot chocolate and tries to help him remember, he empathizes.

aziraphale's patient is non-existent. he yells at him immediately, gets frustrated with the most simple questions, refuses to interact with him and leaves crowley with him after crowley told him "what i NEED is for him to be nowhere near me". how considerate. but hey, maybe he was just having a bad time.

job! he was kind in job, right?

except that he doesn't care about job losing his house, his farmstead, all of his animals being slaughtered and only has a problem with the children dying; which he then tries to rationalize away with his fucking "that's not what god wants" shtick.

meanwhile crowley already has plans to protect the animals AND the children AND job and sitis as best he can.

the flood? perfectly alright to drown everyone, including innocent animals and children! it is god's plan, and what do a few humans mean in god's great big ineffable plan, huh?

then again, he doesn't show much empathy for god's son either when he's being nailed to the cross. french revolution and people being beheaded? oh yes, sure, dreadful—anyway i'm just here for the crepes, the dying humans are just background noise, let's not do anything about that even though it is literally my fucking job as an angel. but noooo. he got peckish and then had lunch. what a fucking hero.

'accidentally' killing a dove because he just had to shove it up his sleeve for a magic act.

someone getting shot and dying? because i was careless? don't care. anyway.

armageddon and all of humanity dying? don't care either until i realise what i personally would lose and then i suddenly give a shit.

centuries upon centuries of aziraphale piling up money and he rather terrorizes poor people than entertain giving them a single dime. crowley has to remind and talk him into it, and as thanks he gets dragged down to hell and tortured.

aziraphale is dripping kindness, isn't he? and all of this doesn't even take into account the ball—human puppet show for his own amusement, this is supervillain shit and you know it—or all the other times he ignored human suffering so he wouldn't be personally inconvenienced.

and ALL OF THAT does not take into account how fucking horribly he treats crowley before time even existed.

aziraphale is not unkind. on a big scale, he cares about humanity, he cares about being nice, being good. he wouldn't intentionally harm someone, but he does not care enough to not be careless—he IS careless, and does NOT care if it kills creatures or humans.

his own personal wants and comfort trump everything else, and that is canon, it is text, it is fact. if you have any canonical examples of aziraphale being genuinely kind simply to be kind, not to be selfishly altruistic, please do add them, i'm serious! if you think i'm wrong, prove me wrong. everything i just listed exists in canon, so please, do the same in return.

giving his sword to adam and eve six thousand years ago does not magically erase everything that came after and it does not give him a free pass to behave however he wants, no matter the cost.

[irisbleufic]

There’s something really cozy about how messy and imperfect you let your characters be during sex. I’m not explaining this well but it does stand out to me, and it’s beyond captivating. They don’t push themselves to conform because they think their partner expects something of them, they just. Play things by ear? Let themselves react/adapt? It’s refreshing, thank you for that. It feels real and less rehearsed.

Oof, anon, I’m sorry I missed this! I remember getting an ask expressing a similar sentiment a handful of years ago that must have been in reference to…God, maybe my Good Omens stories (book-based, because I’ve never written show-based; I’ve been in GO fandom since it cropped up on LJ ca. 2004) since it was someone talking about the way I handle my immortals as being more prone to messy, vulnerable human intimacy when so many other writers in fandom decide to lean into the more polished outer limits of what immortality might mean for sex. I’m trying to remember how I answered that through the lens of Aziraphale and Crowley, but I realize that most of the asks I’m getting at the moment are focused on Daniel and Armand.

Actually, now that I’ve paused for a few minutes to make tea and eat something (I just woke up and had to take anti-seizure medication, too; it’s a whole recent to-do that irritates me), the core answer here is very similar. The immortals I write about do tend to be trauma survivors. It’s not always sexual trauma, but the broader umbrella trauma is around a lack of bodily autonomy and a lack of free will. I just don’t feel the need to put constraints or pressure on them. If they have forever, phases of experimentation will probably come and go if they get to a point of feeling like they want to try something different. I’m only looking at one limited window of time in my writing. In the case of Daniel and Armand, there’s an earlier window in which they had a different intimate dynamic already that I’m showing flashes of now and then. I did the same thing when I wrote my long haul with Aziraphale and Crowley. When characters have extensive history and fraught pasts where they’ve hurt each other, where maybe some of their early experimentation and power dynamics didn’t go well, where maybe one partner didn’t tell the other the full extent of their issues on purpose just so they’d be accepted, I tend to really, really say all cards go on the table in the present and the past shit that wasn’t working gets tossed out the window. They’re happy to have each other back above all else.

(There’s also the point that many of the immortals I work with are neurodivergent in some way, or are readable as such, and they don’t have typical, polished notions of romance and intimacy at all. It’s hopelessly charming and relatable to my Autistic ass. No way do I think hundreds or even thousands of years are going to make them too much better at this than most humans, so sue me.)

[edosianorchids901]

The Swiftness of Time

@flashfictionfridayofficial prompt - "watching birds"

Cw: depression, mentions of violence/murder

Paris, 1314

Aziraphale noticed almost immediately that something was wrong. He had known Crowley for over five thousand years, after all. At this point, he recognized most moods.

“What’s wrong?” he finally asked, sliding a cup of wine to Crowley. It was a very nice Burgundy, much better than the local wine that had been available over the summer.

“Hmm?” Crowley pulled his gaze away from the hunk of bread in his hand. He’d been staring at it rather than eating it for the past few minutes. “Sorry, what?”

“I asked what’s wrong.”

Immediate resistance crossed Crowley’s face, and he shook his head. “Nothing’s wrong. What makes you think something’s wrong?”

“Well, a number of things.” Among them, his unusual quiet, the fact that he wasn’t eating or drinking, the furrows in his brow. But there was one clue far more notable than that. “Namely, there’s four ducks not ten feet away, splashing in the puddles, and you haven’t mentioned them at all.”

A different sort of furrow carved through Crowley’s brow. “Do I normally?”

“Always. If there’s ducks, you always say so.” Aziraphale gave a worried pout. “You haven’t even been watching these ones. It’s not like you.”

“I was busy.”

“Watching bread instead of watching birds?”

Crowley opened his mouth again, as if to protest that such a thing was perfectly normal. Then he closed it, looking entirely out of sorts. Perhaps at the realization that his behavior was so easily readable.

He sighed and turned to the ducks. For a moment, he just watched them as they splashed in the puddle. They quacked happily, scooped up water in their bills, stretched their wings.

“Sorry,” Crowley said again. “I really didn’t mean to worry you.”

“That’s hardly my concern, dear boy.” Aziraphale tilted his head. “Do you not wish to talk about it? If it’s something too upsetting…”

“Nah, it’s not actually anything specific. I’m just tired, s’ all.”

“Have you considered taking a nap?”

That earned a quick smile, although Crowley didn’t take his gaze off the ducks. “I tried a week ago, yeah. While you were out in the countryside.”

“And how did that go?”

“Not well. Just endless dreams about everything going wrong.” Crowley’s nose wrinkled with distaste. “Getting lost on the way to assignments, blessings for you going wrong and turning into murder, losing my sunglasses…”

As if the thought had distressed him, he reached up and pushed his sunglasses higher. Or perhaps he just wished to better conceal his eyes.

“That sounds very stressful.” Aziraphale tore off a piece of bread and dipped it in sauce, one with vinegar and a delightful array of spices. “Do you think it’s the cold weather?”

“Nah, it’s not actually that cold yet.” Crowley glanced up at the clouds. It was an overcast day, slightly breeze, but only a bit chilly in truth. “I think it’s more… time goes by really fast. And lately, it just feels like it’s rushing from one bad thing to the next.”

“Ah.” Now Aziraphale understood. “Is this about that Templar business?”

“Not specifically. I mean, I got commendation for them being burned at the stake and everything, but that’s not all. This has just been a bad year, before and after that.” Crowley scuffed at the ground with his shoe, frowning. “Bad… decade. Century. Millennia. Existence.”

“Oh dear.” Alarmed, Aziraphale miracled a bowl of grain and pushed it to him. “Here. You need this.”

Crowley stared at it. “Does eating raw grain have some sort of antidepressant effect?”

“No, but ducks do.” Aziraphale put on an encouraging smile, although his chest was tight with worry. “Go on. You ought to feed them for a bit.”

Lips pursed, Crowley took the grain. “Somehow, I don’t think that’s gonna miraculously cure my case of ‘humans are really bloody awful to each other.’”

“No, I don’t suppose it shall. But perhaps it will remind you of happier times?”

“Like what?” Crowley asked glumly, hurling a handful of grain at the ground. The ducks rushed over, quacking with glee over the snack.

“Oh. You know. All the birdwatching we’ve done over the years.”

Crowley glanced at him. “Humans have been killing each other for those years, too.”

“I’m aware of that. But ducks are nice! You like ducks. And you like watching them.” Aziraphale was starting to run out of ideas, which was really quite pitiful. After five thousand years of knowing Crowley, he ought to be able to do more. “And, I hope, you like watching and feeding ducks with me?”

At that, Crowley’s expression softened. He nodded, tossing down more grain. “I do. Sorry I’m such awful company today, angel. I guess I just got kinda beaten down by it all.”

“I quite understand.” Aziraphale held out a hand, smiling, and Crowley took it. “Oh.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Well, it-it’s just…” Aziraphale’s cheeks flushed, and he shook his head at himself. “I was actually requesting some of the grain to feed the ducks.”

“Oh.” Crowley chuckled, shaking his head. “‘Course you were.”

He tried to let go. Aziraphale held on tighter. “This is nice, though. Do you think it would help you at all, if we did it a while longer?”

Crowley hesitated, then gave a slow nod. “Yeah. I think it might.”

“Well, then.” Aziraphale moved his chair closer, to make it more comfortable to hold Crowley’s hand, and settled in. “We shall watch the ducks together, then.”

Aziraphale couldn’t do anything about humans being awful, or about the effects of time’s relentless onslaught. But he could certainly offer his company and his hand. And hopefully, between that and the cheerful company of ducks, Crowley would bounce back soon.

[luke-o-lophus]

Ineffable Drabble for Ineffable May Day 2: Naked Man Friend

(757 words, prompts by @blairamok)

10:20 pm, Soho, 8 years after the apocalypse that wasn’t

“Look at this! This is why we never go to a bar”, Aziraphale almost whines, glaring at his own reflection on fancy sunglasses.

“So, a man slipped you his number. Big deal”, Crowley shrugs and downs the rest of his whiskey. A long hiss of satisfaction follows, earning him curious looks and more than one saucy wink. “No…Crowley, he stuffed it in my trousers! In...in my back pocket!” Aziraphale holds up the crumpled paper with his very fingertips, as if holding a dirty rag. That gets Crowley to look up.

“Repeat that for me, angel?” he takes a step forward, crowding his space. His shielded eyes momentarily look over the angel’s shorter corporation, scanning the crowd, then back to his wide eyes. Angels are supposed to sense love, but in that moment Aziraphale can almost taste the anger radiating off his demon.

“He…”, Aziraphale drops his hands and tosses the paper into a nearby bin. “My dear…can we just go?” Crowley nearly hisses out a scathing protest when he catches a faint tremor on pouting lips. “Fine”, he relents, pushing off the wall.

He follows his angel, making a beeline for the exit, as the sea of drunk people miraculously part before them. But he may have glanced a bit too long at a particular part of Aziraphale’s corporation, and the moment of distraction is enough for someone to breach the containment of his demonic miracle. A tall, blonde guy stops the angel in his tracks.

“I saw you throw away my number”, his tone is icy. “That was a mistake.” He then seems to notice Crowley and gives him a once over, “Could’ve just said you want your guard dog in it too. Could’ve fucked you both, you know.” Crowley’s eyes narrow behind the shades, but he knows not to react unless Aziraphale indicates he wants him to step in. Wait…was he a guard dog?

“Now there really is no need for that, and I am truly not interested”, Aziraphale is polite but firm, chin tilted up in quiet determination.

“They all say that, darling, but once they…”, the man’s hand reaches up towards his collar. But neither his sentence nor his arm have the chance to reach their destination. In a speed higher than perceptible to the human eye, Crowley’s hand had shot forward and grabbed his wrist before it could reach Aziraphale.

“You’re not his type, blondie,” Crowley’s voice is cool, his hold just strong enough to restrict without hurting. “You should go.” The man’s eyes are wide in disbelief, but when Crowley lets go he abruptly turns and disappears into the crowd. Whether it was another miracle or sheer fear, Aziraphale didn’t know. He clears his throat, trying and failing to offer an awkward smile at all the eyes on them. He feels a touch on his arm, a touch he knew well enough to not jerk away from even in this situation. “Come on, angel”, said Crowley in a voice that’s usually never heard outside the bookshop.

Half an hour later, there’s a wine bottle open between an ethereal and an occult being. Few words have been spoken. Crowley’s glasses are uncharacteristically on. From the experience of the last eight years, more so than the six thousand before them, Aziraphale knows there’s some guilt being drunk away across the table. He tries to say it wasn’t that big a deal, or that he doesn’t blame Crowley for convincing him to try out a bar. In the end he settles on, “That was very nice of you.”

Crowley’s mouth opens to just make some unintelligible noises, and the angel can’t help the warmth rising in his chest. So he pushes with a cheeky smile, “Whatever did you mean he wasn’t my type? Sounded like you do know what that is.”

Crowley’s brows shoot up over the top of his glasses, and he carelessly takes them off. “Oh yes angel”, he hisses with no real venom in his voice. “I recall you had a visitor some years ago, no? The street couldn’t shut up about your naked man friend. Tall, dark hair, no humanlike genitalia – yeah, the works”

Aziraphale gasps in mock indignation, hand to his chest, “I’ll have you know that’s but a filthy rumour! Well, the last two at least”

Crowley wishes his immediate choking on wine was also mock. But how can he complain much when that gets his angel to rush over and rub his back till he’s better?

Read: Next (bookshop) Prev (Before the Beginning)

[mossyomens]

hello again, and welcome to another wip wednesday!!

today, we're looking at a fic i'm writing that doesnt really have a title, but that i kind of love. the fic features femme crowley, and transmasc present aziraphale, and has some delightful smut before this scene. it's set a few thousand years ago, but that date doesnt really matter. what matters is it's a sweet interlude between our favorite angel and demon, well before "retiring" is really an option, but they dream about it together anyways

.

.

“Feels good���” Crowley murmured, and before she could stop him, Aziraphale was tugging a heavy blanket over the pair of them. She frowned a bit, even as her eyes slipped shut. “We were going to-”

“We can, later. Right now you're half asleep, and we've already had plenty of fun just now.” Aziraphale's voice held a sultry promise to it, one that was rare for the angel to make. Crowley cherished it all the more for that rarity, basking in the feeling of being desired, and by the only being she had seriously hoped to be desired by. 

Crowley felt herself drifting off to sleep, and that feeling only grew stronger when Aziraphale snapped his fingers, turning out all the extra candles in his home.

“I think I like it here. With you.” Crowley's confession left her before she could stop it. “Maybe…well. It's not likely to happen.” Aziraphale hummed a question, wanting to hear the rest of Crowley's sentence.

The demon waffled for several long moments, her decision made for her by a sweet kiss pressed to her forehead.

“It'd be nice enough, y'know. If we could ever, I dunno, retire?” Crowley tried out the word as she spoke, finding herself fond of it almost right away. She missed Aziraphale’s wistful look, but felt one of his hands begin to massage circles into her back. “Might be nice to do it together.” The last of Crowley's daily allotment of courage was used up by the words, but the tender kiss planted on her lips was response enough to bolster her just once more. “I know we really can't, but if we could retire. I'd like to do it with you. Like this.”

[s-3lliot]

Nothing Lasts Forever

Currently listening to the song, “Nothing’s New” by Rio Romeo because it’s on my AziraCrow playlist right? And right now I’m working on this history project for my class on Greek Gods (MY CHILDHOOD— though completely irrelevant), and I took a pause to listen to the lyrics right? And of course I add songs to certain playlists based off of vibes, but a majority of a time it’s based off of the lyrics I hear in a song. So a few days ago I added this song to my playlist, but I lowkey forgot WHY so I listened to it all and— Jesus. 

BASICALLY what I’m getting at is that we all know that before Crowley fell, he was an Angel right? But he decided to question god and the almighty’s decisions, causing him to ‘saunter vaguely downwards,’ and y’know, FALL. And this was basically the start of his, for the lack of a better word, “betrayal” when it came to Heaven. Because he had been an Angel all of his life, most likely with the assumption that he would never FALL, especially not for simply ASKING QUESTIONS. I mean how much trouble could you get into for asking questions really? But then he did. Then he fell. The life he once had, in an instant, was taken away from him. 

Fast forward six-thousand-ish years later, and we’ve got the AziraCrow confession. Crowley finally realizes his feelings for Aziraphale, and then BAM! He’s hit with the whole Heaven thing. And I can’t help but link that with the lyrics of the song. SPECIFICALLY:

“So, won't you please spare me indignity?

And won't you please give me some decency?

And won't you please call it, if our time is through?

'Cause I know that we fall apart, when nothing's new, Nothing's new”

The reason why I’m mentioning this specific part of the song is because first of all, you’ve got the main thing I wanted to point out, which was the ‘Nothing’s New’ line. Once again, Heaven had taken something away from Crowley. First it was his ‘Angel/holiness,’ and now it was Aziraphale. 

But then you go MORE into the song lyrics, and god does the third line hurt.

“And won't you please call it, if our time is through?” 

GOD. This just sinks up with the other rant I made about the whole duality of Achilles Come Down and the confession—- because once again it brings me to my point that there’s just so much GOD DAMN miscommunication. And it drives me INSANE because I’m just sitting here thinking about how Crowley is left at the end of season two thinking that THAT’S what Aziraphale meant by ‘nothing lasts forever.’ 

Even looking at it MORE now, there’s yet ANOTHER VERSE:

“I want to be close to you but I don't know what to do— 'Cause if we are near to through, it may make it worse”

My heart? SHATTERED. Because I bet this is what was going on in Crowley’s MIND during the confession. That all he wanted to do was be with Aziraphale, it didn’t matter WHERE, just as long as he was with him. Earth? Space? Who cares, I’ll follow him anywhere. But then reality steps back in and you’re hit with the second line which just keeps making me think about Crowley’s last-ditch effort at trying to convince him to stay, A.K.A, a kiss—- A.K.A: Wanting to be close to Aziraphale, but not knowing what to do, and under the impression that they’re near to through, thus making it WORSE.

I hate this. 

[mimisempai]

The angel who never ceases to baffle me

Summary

When he entered the bookshop that day, Crowley certainly didn't expect to find his angel asleep on his desk. Aziraphale who never slept until recently, was taking a nap...

Notes

Day 17 : Napping

On Ao3

Rating G -  1077 words

"Crowley, did something happen to Aziraphale?" 

Crowley, who had just gotten out of the Bentley he had just parked, turned to face a worried looking Maggie.

He replied a little confused, "Not that I know of, why do you ask?"

Maggie wrung her hands as she replied, "Well, he was supposed to come into the store around 4: pm, but he didn't. It's not like him not to let people know when he can't make it, so I went to the store, but the door was locked and..."

Crowley interrupted, "Aziraphale doesn't keep a set schedule."

Maggie shook her head, "Yeah, we all know the bookshop's opening hours are whimsical. So when I saw some light, I knocked on the door a few times, but he didn't answer."

Crowley, though slightly concerned, said gently, "He's probably deep in a book and didn't hear. We'll check right away."

Followed by Maggie, he went to the bookshop and opened the door, calling softly, "Angel?"

Receiving no answer, he walked further into the store and looked toward Aziraphale's desk. Here he couldn't hold back a small laugh, half amusement, half relief, and turned to Maggie to say quietly, "It's all right. He just fell asleep."

Maggie sighed in relief and replied, "Good. Knowing him, he'll probably feel guilty about missing our appointment, so reassure him and tell him to come by any time tomorrow. I don't have any plans."

Crowley nodded before turning and entering the bookshop, closing the door behind him.

He slowly approached the desk and couldn't help but smile fondly at a scene he would never have imagined surprising just a few weeks ago.

Aziraphale, who never slept, had obviously been unable to resist and was asleep on his desk. His head was resting on his crossed arms and he looked deeply asleep. His glasses were askew on his face, and his slightly parted lips occasionally released small puffs of air that caused the sheets of paper on his desk to rustle.

Having slept in the Bentley for weeks, Crowley knew that sleeping in an uncomfortable position promised a painful awakening, demon or human, so he moved even closer and said softly, "Angel...wake up."

The Angel mumbled, but showed no sign of waking.

Crowley then gently placed a hand on his shoulder and shook him gently, "Angel, come with me, I promise you'll thank me when you wake up without a sore back."

The Angel opened his eyes, but was clearly not fully awake, so Crowley leaned down, pushed the glasses aside, and put an arm around his shoulders. He helped him to his feet, amused because Aziraphale was letting himself be handled like a puppet.

The demon led the angel to the sofa where he sat him down and no sooner had he sat down beside him than Aziraphale snuggled up to him and fell asleep almost immediately.

Crowley, a little surprised by such behavior but not at all displeased, allowed it and simply wrapped his arms around the angel, cradling him tightly against him.

After a few moments, Crowley shifted to a more comfortable position, not knowing how long the angel's little nap would last.

Aziraphale must have thought he was getting up, because he suddenly grabbed Crowley and whimpered, "Stay."

The angel had frowned in his sleep, and the demon, amused and pleased at the same time, kissed his forehead gently and said, "I'm not leaving, angel."

Though the Angel was still asleep, the wrinkle between his eyes disappeared as he relaxed back against Crowley.

Crowley now went from amused to amazed. 

He knew that Aziraphale trusted him. But to see him like this, so surrendered in his arms asleep, moved him to the core. 

He began to speak softly, "You know, Angel, I wonder if one day you'll stop surprising me. Thousands of years have passed since we met, and yet you go on and on. And each time I don't expect it. I've known both angels and demons, and I know what they're capable of, all predictable in their behavior, but you, you defy all predictions. Where I thought I'd meet a sworn enemy, you offer me an angel who dares to defy the heavens and protect me. You offer me your trust again and again. Showing it to me again and again. And now you sleep against me, defenseless. Sometimes I wonder how I ever deserved an angel like you."

"You are just you. You don't have to do anything to deserve me."

Crowley gasped and, lowering his head to look at the Angel, saw that Aziraphale was looking at him, eyes wide and a very gentle smile.

He exclaimed, "You little..."

"Hush, my dear, don't spoil this beautiful declaration."

Crowley asked, "How long have you been awake, you little traitor?"

Aziraphale looked pensive and then replied, a playful smile on his lips, "Well... since... I begged you to stay."

"Angel!"

Aziraphale snuggled up to him and said quietly, "And you stayed."

"Of course, you idiot. Did you enjoy laughing at me then?"

The angel lifted his face and said with a now serious expression, "There's absolutely nothing in what you've told me that makes me want to laugh at you. Not when you open your heart like this, Crowley."

He straightened up a little, brought his hand to the demon's cheek and said softly, "I'm glad I woke up to hear that. But to repeat what I said, you'll never have to do anything to deserve me. Just being you is enough for me."

He slid his hand from the demon's cheek to the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to back up his words with a tender kiss before curling up against him once more.

"Anyway, it's much more comfortable to wake up like this."

Crowley chuckled softly and replied, "I told you, but you were so asleep you didn't hear. And w do you want to do now, Angel?"

Aziraphale reached behind him, pulled the blanket from the back of the sofa and covered them with it before saying quietly, "Well, I'd like to explore with you the benefits of a little nap."

Crowley chuckled slightly and replied, "Sleeping with you in my arms, angel? You'll never see me object to that. "

He planted a light kiss in the angel's hair before leaning back comfortably on the sofa, his angel in his arms, and it wasn't long until they both drifted off into a gentle slumber.

_________

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 : here (After season 2)

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here (Before season 2)

[thesilversun]

Five Lines Fic Meme Tagged by: @howdaretrashships Thanks for the tag!

Rules: find five lines in your fic based on the prompts you are given, then change one of the prompts at the end!

A Line You Think is Hilarious

from

Mainframe, HEX and the Temporal Trouser Error

a Torchwood/Discworld crossover where two computers talk to each other despite a difference in programming language.

It' a few lines really (and tbh pretty much all the fic - it's by far the silliest thing I've written.)

Mainframe gave the electronic equivalent of a shrug, and then sent her next message. [Please identify date of three leg trouser formation] Hopefully Hex would understand it if it was sent in terms it understood.  +++14 Grune. Year eight. Century of the Anchovy+++ Which could, Mainframe computed, mean anything from ten thousand years ago to a week last Tuesday. So she sent back [Sync calendar function?] A calendar page from the previous May appeared on screen, then across one of the days flashed the word +++Wrong Trouser Day+++

A Line About Mysteries

Time Enough and Life (Torchwood, Jack/Ianto)

By 1969 the Electro was threatened with closure. It managed a stay of execution thanks to the British Film institute scheme supporting regional arthouse cinemas, and was renamed the Cardiff Showhouse. Even so, as the 1970s wore on it struggled to turn a profit and it finally closed its doors on the 22nd of February 1977. Jack stops and reads the sentence again. Simple, factual and easy to understand it is also completely incomprehensible in relation to what Ianto has told him about it. There had been such genuine fondness and affection in Ianto's voice at the memories of Saturday mornings spent there with his father that Jack finds it incredibly unlikely that it is a lie. Yet if it's not a lie Ianto is a great deal older than he looks and had lied about his age when he joined Torchwood One. Either that or his father's idea of a nice day out was to zip back a couple of decades to see a film. All the options are preposterous, yet a quick search of the internet confirms the 1977 closure date. The only thing that’s clear is that, for whatever reason, Ianto has been lying to him, and maybe to Torchwood from the outset. The question is why?

A Line About Love

From All the Lies (Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley) (written after S1, not seen S2, so if there is an angel in S2 call Uriel it isn't this one)

Uriel watched them for a moment surprise growing on her face. "You love him." "We are meant to love," Aziraphale said, pulling the fuzzy, midnight-blue fabric around him. "More than anything that is our purpose. I cannot and will not be sorry for being as She made me." "Not you." Uriel pointed at Crowley. "That...thing. The demon. How can It do that?" "Thing. Demon. It. Well isn't that just charming. It's Crowley. Crow-Ley. Two syllables. Really not that tricky." He gave her an irritated look that somehow managed to be conveyed despite the glasses. "You know the one who helped screw up the whole end of the world thing for you." "But you shouldn't love him," Uriel persisted. "You can't." "Why not? We were all angels once," Crowley said, quieter than usual. "Falling didn't change..." He stopped, genuine raw hurt on his face. "Falling was a punishment and what better punishment for a Fallen Angel than to still feel love, but know they'll never, ever deserve it. Never." He turned away, swallowing down millennia old hurt. "Seriously I thought all you angels knew that. Just something else for you to be smug about." It felt like a punch in the gut. Had Crowley thought that about him too? The things he'd said to him...Some of them had been so thoughtless, cruel even. "Oh Crowley, my dear, you should have said something," Aziraphale said, catching his hand in his own. "Of course you're loved. I love you." Panic, fear and desperate hope, radiated from him as he looked at their clasped hands. "You....you do?"

A Line About Dreams

From Before the Dawn (Mysterious Lotus Casebook, Difanghua - a nightmare rather than a good dream, unfortunately)

There is water all around him. Ice cold and dark. It is full of hands. Some tiny, some huge. Men’s hands, women’s hands, things that may or may not be human at all. Gripping, grasping hands that pull at him, at his hair, at his clothing. Not clothing. His clothes are gone. He can’t open his eyes, but Di Feisheng can see them all the same. Nothing but hands. No heads or faces. No bodies or even limbs. Just innumerable hands, their sharp nails, talons, claws, red painted, like cinnabar, like wedding clothes. they hook into his skin, tearing it open. The water turns redder still. Like blood. Perhaps it was always blood. Either way he’s soaked in it. Drowning in it. He always has been. He struggles against the tide of clawing fingers. They swarm up his body, no part left untouched. They close around his throat, squeezing, crushing the air from him. They pry his mouth open, blood rushing in and out, they are in throat from the inside, choking him. He wants to scream, but there’s no air left in him. “A-Fei!” It’s distant. He tries to kick out, but his legs will barely respond. There are hands on his shoulders pinning down. He’s going to die. He doesn’t want to die. “A-Fei! Wake up!” It’s closer. More urgent. Familiar. The hands, which aren’t the same as the ones in his dream, shake him. Careful, rather than rough, as they pull back to wakefulness. To safety.

An Atmospheric Line

from Three months and a thousand miles of sea Mysterious Lotus Casebook, Dihua.

He turns to the wide horizons. “Li Xiangyi! Come back and face me!” Only the echo of the mountains answer, taunting and hopeless. He sits amidst the snow and shattered rock. The sun sets and the cold moon rises. Frost settles on his hair. His hands heal. Still the empty ache inside will not ease. The sun rises and he leaves. The cold of the mountains seems to have seeped into his bones, like he will never be warm again and still he aches for what could have been. What should have been.

Tagging: @yletylyf @galexibrain @cheesybadgers @killerandhealerqueen @momosandlemonsoda if you want to that is, and any one else who wants to do it even if not tagged

Prompts:

A Line You Think is Hilarious

A Line About anger

A Line About Love

A Line About Dreams

An Atmospheric Line

[heartinajarofpickles]

Dinner is not over

Part 5

Run to rise and leave me blind, i feel it coming all the time

Half of the cup was already gone, hands trembling so much they almost spilled the little liquid left on it, feet touching the dark pavement one step at a time anxiously looking forward to see how Muriel was handling the library, mind focused on the fact that aziraphale wasn't there anymore so that his absence didn't take him aback, she was halfway there, eyes fixated on a new door color, when something solid and cold on his hip pulled her out of his thoughts, and stopped him from looking at the door.

She realized that she was on the ground and the pain came immediately after, hips and head hurting, Oh! the head, it felt like it was going to explode, the person driving left not caring about the accident nor the being they have hurtled, or perhaps caring too much, but about the consequences that’ll bring.

Crowley was okay with this being his end, lately things on earth were dizzy and confusing, like they were many many years ago, after that everything just became worse, it was many years ago and in a far better place, with no strings attached, so he didn't dare to imagine how bad things could get here, the only things that grounded him to earth were gone, he come to this place to accompany humans, to tempt them, to make them make choices, for him to intervene and help them choose the way they wanted to live, it was only fair that one of those humans would take his life, and what better than with a car, one of their best inventions.

Humans would probably be gone thanks to aziraphale in a couple thousand years, if Crowley died he would go back to hell, there, demons would notice his existence, maybe just by punishing him, making him an example of what happens to traitors, it wouldn’t be the first time that happened and right now it was far better than what was happening, he wanted for someone to call out his name even if it was just to torture him, to laugh at him, ridicule him, THAT was better than nothing at all, than an unimpactful existence, maybe none of that would happen and he'll just get back to the crowded place that everyone keep insisting was his home, either option was better that seeing how the creature he loved so purely destroyed what they have been caring for together the last 6000 years based only on bad decisions and pressure exerted by a higher powers.

The demon was slowly saying goodbye to his earthly years relieving theirbest memories one by one in the few seconds he thought he had left, preparing to say goodbye to the body that had held him so many nights and anticipating what would be of him in the afterlife, when a familiar high-pitched voice invaded the space.

— “Mister Crowley, are you okay?” Although it shouldn't, it took him by surprise, in no time he restored his composure and responded to the curious eyes.

— “Yeah sure kid” the demon said while an almost unbearable pain on the hip ached her, he couldn’t stand up by himself, so Muriel helped him cross the road, until they arrived at the library.

It was different, barely the entrance remained the same, instead of the deep red color there was now an almost electric blue adorning the door, a sign could be read stating the hours it was opened 9-5 every day, but the inside, that was what took Crowley aback, what once was a cozy place packed with books and old comfy chairs, with warm walls and wood floors was now all organized by sections, by genre, yearly, or alphabetically, it didn't matter which one, if Muriel did it that meant it was a good system, a system that was meant to be accessible for those who came inside, and a system that aziraphale didn’t have as his books were ordered in quirky unique ways that made sense in his head and his head only, because he was supposed to be the only one in contact with them, only him and the people he trusted could inhabit that quiet little sophisticated nook on earth, however that domesticity was all over, as strangers now enter the room where Crowley poured his love time ago.

The new layout was intended to welcome people with clearer colors, bright white lights and colorful modern chairs, all of this inviting them to buy.

The hit, the caffeine and the new state of one of the few places where he truly felt himself made the world whirl once again.

All he wanted was for this to stop, he closed his eyes to escape from the tormenting reality, when a figure posed in front of him, and suddenly they didn’t feel so bad.

Muriel had miracled out Crowley's wounds, only the superficial ones as his power was limited, still his hip didn’t hurt anymore, and she felt pretty proud of Muriel for discovering new things. 

— “Wow, already making miracles, huh?”

— “Oh! Well yes, I’ve learned a lot thanks to aziraphale!”. Pain.

— “Is that so?” The angel had visited Muriel but not him. Pain again.

— “Oh well just by reading, Aziraphale’s books really have a lot of him in them” They did. “Besides it's cute how he gives them little names, I feel as if he was talking to me” 

— “Sounds just like him” said the demon in what was intended to sound depreciating, but coming out mourningly.

Thanks to the fact that Muriel keep distracting him from the destructive way his mind been working lately, and to the miracleperformed, Crowley could appreciate the view with detail, he got up and started analyzing the books realizing that a large number of the originals were already gone, pristine new books taking their place, making the place seem stocked, luminous white lights adorning the roof facilitating people that wanted to evaluate what they were about to buy, chairs in all different colors gave a good contrast to the rest of the store and serve as a thoughtful addition for however that wanted to start their treat at that exact moment.

— “Sold much Uriel?”

— “Oh you noticed! Yes, I did, it wasn't that hard really, a lot of people seemed to be very interested, and for some of them they gave me a lot of money, at first I didn’t understand the concept of money, I still don't fully grasped it, you just give it away and people give you back things right?”

— “Pretty much yes”

— “Yes I knew it!, apparently some of them were really rare as they gave me a lot of money from them”

— “You were not supposed to sell them, did you know” said Crowley in a dismal tone

— “Don’t be silly this is a bookshop, that’s what we do”

The demon gave a little laugh both for the way that Muriel’s speak so sure of themselves, and because of a reminder of better times popped up, when the angel would give infinite explanations as to why he couldn't sell his books.

— “True”

The last safe place on earth had crumbled, becoming a new version of what it was, a version not made for Crowley, not in a bad sense, time changes, it's a normal and organic thing that happens, but ever since that kiss he had remained the same, soul forever buried in a place that wasn't there anymore, trapped in the past unable to escape.

After analyzing all, the demon's mind only came with one possible solution, one unique thought, the plan that could make all of this stop, the thing that would get rid of all of his problems.

— “Muriel, could I ask you for something?”

[sliebman10]

Saturday Snippet

(I don't totally know what this wants to be, but this snippet wanted to be written...A lazy morning with Aziraphale and Crowley)

Mornings like this were nothing short of miraculous.

Or so Crowley was learning. 

Even as recently as a few months ago, he never would have admitted it.  But now there was nowhere else he'd rather be than here, in the drafty room above the book shop, wrapped up in his angel. 

Aziraphale's warm weight against him was reassuring as his fingers made idle patterns across his back. Crowley pulled a quilt over them as their skin cooled and Aziraphale let out a happy, sated little sigh. 

The small sound reached inside Crowley and tugged, reinforcing that after thousands of years, this was exactly where he was supposed to be. 

"Tea, darling?" Aziraphale asked, lifting his head off Crowley's chest so he could see him. Before, Crowley had only seen Aziraphale disheveled only a handful of times in all of the many years he'd known him. So seeing him now, his hair mussed and his eyes hazy made Crowley smile. For he knew this was just for him.

"Anything you want, Angel."