#michael good omens

[multifamdomfan]

Just You

Aziraphale had spent centuries trying to be enough.

Enough for Heaven, enough for his superiors, enough to justify his existence among angels who seemed to glide through their purpose effortlessly. But no matter how hard he tried—how much good he did, how many miracles he performed, how much hope he spread—it never seemed to be enough.

Too soft. Too indulgent. Too earthly. Too much of everything an angel shouldn’t be.

So, when Crowley said, “I only want you,” Aziraphale didn’t know how to process it.

It had been a quiet moment in the bookshop, the air thick with the scent of old paper and dust. Aziraphale had been talking—rambling, really—about all the things he could give Crowley, all the things he should give him. Freedom, safety, an escape from Heaven and Hell, from everything that had bound them for so long. Surely Crowley wanted that. Surely Crowley deserved more than this small, cluttered shop and an angel who had spent far too long trying to belong in a place that had never truly wanted him.

But Crowley had simply tilted his head, sipped his whiskey, and said, “Don’t want all that, angel. I just want you.”

Aziraphale had laughed. He hadn’t meant to, but the words seemed so absurd. As if he were something to be wanted. As if Crowley had chosen him—not because he was useful, not because he had something to offer, but simply because he was.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Aziraphale had said, dismissing it with a wave of his hand. “You must want something more than that. Something… grander.”

Crowley frowned, setting his glass down with an audible clink against the wooden table. “No. I don’t.”

“But surely—”

“Aziraphale,” Crowley interrupted, his voice sharper now, edged with something Aziraphale couldn’t quite name. “Why is that so hard for you to believe?”

Aziraphale hesitated. His fingers tightened around the spine of the book he’d been pretending to read. He couldn’t quite meet Crowley’s gaze.

“I just…” He exhaled, feeling that uncomfortable, sinking weight in his chest. “It doesn’t make sense.”

Crowley huffed, leaning back against the chair, arms crossed over his chest. “Doesn’t have to make sense. It’s just the truth.”

Aziraphale swallowed. The truth. Such a simple thing, and yet…

For centuries, he had been conditioned to believe he wasn’t enough. That his kindness was weakness, that his love for humanity was a flaw, that every step he took outside the rigid structure of Heaven was a mistake. Try harder. Do better. Be more.

And now Crowley was looking at him like he was already enough. Like he didn’t need to earn the right to be wanted.

Aziraphale wasn’t sure what to do with that.

He turned away, busying himself with straightening a stack of books that didn’t need straightening. He felt Crowley watching him, and it was unbearable.

Crowley sighed, softer this time, and after a long moment, he stood. The warmth of him was suddenly closer, a quiet presence just within reach. Not demanding. Just there.

“Aziraphale,” Crowley murmured.

The angel swallowed hard, still not turning.

“I don’t need saving,” Crowley continued, voice gentle. “I don’t need grand gestures or some perfect world where everything makes sense. I just need you. That’s it. You, sitting here in this bookshop. You, arguing with me over some ridiculous nonsense. You, just being.”

Aziraphale’s breath hitched. His hands trembled where they rested against the book.

“Is that really so hard to believe?” Crowley asked.

Aziraphale closed his eyes.

Yes, he wanted to say. Yes, because it had never worked that way before. Because Heaven had taught him that love was conditional, that affection was given only when he was useful, when he was righteous enough, good enough.

Because enough had never been a thing he was.

And yet, Crowley stood here, offering him something he didn’t know how to hold. Something terrifying in its simplicity.

Slowly, hesitantly, Aziraphale turned. He met Crowley’s gaze—golden, steady, open.

There was no trick. No condition. No expectation.

Just love.

Aziraphale’s throat tightened. His vision blurred at the edges.

Crowley sighed again, but there was fondness in it this time. He reached out, careful as ever, and took Aziraphale’s hand in his own.

“You’re enough,” he said simply. “You always have been.”

Aziraphale let out a shaky breath, fingers curling around Crowley’s. Maybe he would never quite understand it. Maybe it would take time to believe it.

But for now, he held on.

[metamatronic]

“I didn’t mean to fall. I just hung around the wrong people.”

stills under the cut:

[missfitmarvel0-0]

There's a billboard by my house that says "Archangel Michael, please let Trump win" and I think I'm so skewed by Good Omens that I said out loud "That cunty queen won't help him"

Also, please make sure, my US peeps that are eligible, please make sure you're registered!

[vidavalor]

Dagon & Michael as War; Crowley as Pepper.

[vangoghschair]

I have so much to say about this.

1. Why do Michael and Uriel look like upper class lesbian mums who just came from a court hearing cos their kid got called into the principals office?!

2. Michael + Uriel = Muriel

3. These are Muriel's lesbian mums, Crowley and Aziraphale are their uncles, emancipated from the family for being too silly

4. Michael and Uriel are so fucking done with aziraphale and... I mean...the traitor and the demon's shit

[siblet-spliber]

Dagon and Michael having a clandestine meeting on Earth, as suggested by @castlechariot for the Good Omens Gotcha for Gaza

Check out @goodomensaction and donate to submit a prompt for me or another one of the wonderful artists and writers working on this project!

[craziestgonzba]

Personally, I love this scene so much.

It works so well even heaven found out 😳

[cutebundrawz]

More Good Omens AU where they disguise themselves as animals instead of people!!

Michael is a secretary bird, Uriel is a peregrine falcon, Saraquel is a shrike, Sandalphon is a Eurasian griffin vulture, and Muriel is a turtledove.

Of course angels don’t know shit about biodiversity so their disguises absolutely suck in the city

[shynrinn]

they lasted 7 seconds >:))

[good-omens-memes-daily]

Day 20 of posting Good Omens memes Everyday until Season 3

Source

[actual-changeling]

i woke up this morning and now i'm like this send help

[zhuzha-flybeelzebub]

[inezrable]

Potential friendships in good omens that I hardly see discussed

Aziraphale and Mutt

Crowley and Mrs Sandwich

Maggie and Aziraphale

Madame Tracy and Anathema

Furfur and Hastur

Crowley and Mutt's spouse (I've decided their name is Drew)

Aziraphale and Michael

Maggie and Muriel

Crowley and Donna Noble

[zevampirex]

Cat omens, angel and demon, which one would you adopt??

Michael, Sandalphon, Uriel, Ligur, Hastur and Beeelzebub

[caisdeships]

[Good Omens] [Michael x Dagon]

What? Do you think Ineffable Juniors and Ineffable Husbands were my only ships on this show? Please. hee

[brainwormcity]

It just occurred to me that the Book of Life is basically just an angelic Death Note.