#tall Aziraphale is confusing as hell

[captain-rickbond]

Good omens ⚕ Ben & Laz

[analumina]

Ahhhh!!! I finally finished my Good Omens fic 😭 I've never written a long ass fic before. Allow me to shamelessly plug the first chapter here.

Summary:

Having read some interesting files as he was snooping around heaven, and after seven months of no contact, Aziraphale takes the elevator down to earth to inform Crowley of the dreadful news or rather happy news? Either way, congratulations, they have been ineffable parents since 1941, not to mention the looming apocalypse they must also worry about. Hooray?

________________________________________________

“Right.” Aziraphale said as he pushed his way into Crowley’s flat as if he had not broken the poor demon’s heart seven months prior. All Crowley could do was stare at the angel in confusion. “You still keep the drinks in the study?” The angel continued as he walked around like he owned the place.

Crowley’s brain was trying to catch up to what his eyes were seeing. Aziraphale was back? Just like that? What? How? And the most important question of all, why was the angel drinking straight out of the wine bottle instead of a glass?

After some minutes, or it could have been seconds, who was keeping count, the tall dark demon finally closed the door and approached the angel, his angel. The love of his life whom he had confessed to and been utterly rejected by. Brain finally catching up, Crowly huffed in annoyance and anger, approached Aziraphale and seized the wine bottle out of his manicured hands. “Wha –”

Aziraphale nodded uncontrollably. “Yes.” He breathed. “Yes, perfect. You take a big sip as well.” He let out a long exhale before taking back said bottle and, once again, took another long sip from it. He was not at all his posh self as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and passed the bottle back to Crowley, urging him to drink.

Crowley was too pissed and confused to obey. “What th –”

“I didn’t know it was possible.” Aziraphale chuckled like a mad man. “How can it, right? Why it – it was never… I mean…you know? And you…demon…and angel…the…the…yes…but here we are…and…what…oh, how was it possible?” At this point, Crowley had no idea if Aziraphale was talking to him or to himself. “Supposed it could be? Do you think…no…or rather yes...Maybe…

“Aziraphale!” Crowley’s voice was stern. “What the hell is going on?”

Aziraphale’s mind finally seemed to register where he was. He let his blue eyes wonder about Crowley’s flat. It was as if nothing had changed really. The dark and cold walls were still a contrast to his at the bookshop. The open space made it seem too sterile, too unwelcoming. The only attractive thing were the charming plants visible from the open wall panel. Suddenly, the air stilled as his eyes made contact with the other charming thing in the flat, Crowley.

The angel felt faint, though he was not sure if it was due to him trying to get used to his human self again or the fact he was seeing Crowley once again, or, and it could be the particular reason for his ramblings, the fact he needed to tell Crowley something he had uncovered as he snooped about heaven’s documents. Topic back on his mind, he reached for the bottle once more however and, unfortunately for him, Crowley managed to keep it out of his reach.

Seeing the worried expression painted on Aziraphale, “What’s wrong?” Crowley softly asked as the anger he had boiled inside for the past seven months seemed to evaporate completely.

Aziraphale licked his lips, “Oh, Crowley.” He launched forward and took the demon into his arms. Crowley’s brain seized to function once again until he felt Aziraphale tighten his grip around him. He relented and hugged the angel back, placing his cheek upon Aziraphale’s soft locks. “It – it’s horrible really.” Aziraphale whispered into Crowley’s chest. “Or rather…I do not know.”

“Did they hurt you?” Crowley tried to keep his tone soft, but it came out cold and unnerving. Aziraphale shook his head, still not wanting to face Crowley, it seemed. “What’s wrong then? ‘spose you finally figured out how much you missed earth’s delicacies? Or maybe you realized how much you missed me and how huge of a mistake was leaving me behind.” He chuckled. “It will take some time to forgive you but I will…eventually.”

“Crowley.”

“Fine. I forgive you.”

Aziraphale pulled back and tilted his head up. He took Crowley in. The demon had not changed much. His eyes were still that perfect shade of yellow, his grin still as playful as ever, his scent was still as magnificent as he recalled. His hair, well, it seemed he had let it grow out, reminding Aziraphale of the bun Crowley had fashioned back in 2013 or so. Secretly, it had always been his favorite style of his, apart from their time in Golgotha while Crowley was female presenting. Although, wasn’t his hair long there as well? “I…” he exhaled sharply, “Do you recall 1941, around the time when we were at the church and…”

“Oh, yes, the Nazi spies. Night of your magic show. Fell the Marvelous if I recall. Oh, Aziraphale, please don’t tell me you tried to show the other angels your magic tricks.” Crowly rolled his eyes. “That is definitely one way to get kicked out of heaven.”

“No, I –”

“Fine. You can show me your tricks if it will make you feel better.” Crowley sighed and ended their hug as he made his way to his sofa. He plopped down with a big huff and looked at Aziraphale up and down. “Go on then, amaze me.”

Aziraphale stood silent and unmoving for a second and with one big breath he finally uttered, “We have a daughter.”

Crowley narrowed his eyes, and nodded slowly, trying to understand the magic in the act until his brain called him an idiot and something clicked inside him, “…we whot?”

[sentientsky]

here, have another dumbass good omens crack fic

Galvanized and sparking, gunmetal clouds tossed themselves across the sky. Across the way, the Metatron stood, unblinking and monochrome. Beside him, a hundred thousand angels flickered with holy light. Daggers billowed with heavenly flames, rending the comfortable shadows apart and replacing them with the antiseptic, blinding breadth of apotheosis.

Crowley felt his breath catch in his throat.

The end tasted like the hollowing breath of November—the shape of absence, the rattling gasp of a drowning man. If they were to go down, they'd go down hand in hand, he and his angel. He tightened his grip, and felt Aziraphale return the pressure with a rare ferocity.

They walked a tightrope. Tension, sharp as a heavenly blade, hummed in the air between them. Our side.

Then, without warning, Nina appeared beside Crowley, Maggie in tow. The demon opened his mouth to speak, to ask them why (to tell them to go back into the bookshop where it was safe, to reassure them that everything would be okay—even if he couldn't convince himself).

"Give me your hand," Nina instructed. Aziraphale's brow crinkled in confusion, and even the Metatron's gaze flickered to the two humans. She stood, hand outstretched, waiting for Crowley to comply. After a moment of bewildered sputtering and half-formed questions, he placed his palm against hers. On Nina's other side, she reached to join hands with Maggie. The rising blush in the blonde woman's cheeks didn't escape Crowley's notice.

There, in the middle of the street at the end of the world, the four of them turned to look upon the army of God.

It was only then that the Metatron spoke. "Enlisting the assistance of humans? Really? This is just pathe—"

"Oi, shut it," Maggie snapped. And then it was Nina's turn to blush. No need for sudden rainstorms or Austen-esque ballroom dances, Crowley thought. Just gotta get humans facing down Armageddon and then va-voom. He tucked that information away for later, and returned his attention to the two women beside him.

Nina and Maggie exchanged a look, and then, as one: "With our combined powers of gay, we cast thee out!"

All was still. Aziraphale remained silent, but the demon could hear him practically vibrating with anxiety. Crowley squeezed his hand, fear running through him in equal measure.

All the world was quiet, save for the crackling of heavenly fire. Anticipation rose like a looming tidal wave.

And then the Metatron scoffed. "I have no idea what you hoped you might accomplish in doing that. Honestly, this has to be the most pitiful attempt at a—"

But he didn’t get to finish, because, in the blink of an eye, the holy messenger and his heavenly army were all violently yoinked up into the sky.

A beat passed, astonished and still.

And then the clouds cleared, revealing a tall, curving rainbow that arced its way across all of Soho. Nina placed a hand over her heart and sniffed as she peered up into the heavens. “Gay rights,” she murmured, soft and reverent.

Crowley wiped a tear from his eye. “Hell yeah, gay rights.”

here's the actual, serious version of the fic, if you're interested: x

[ask-but-beware-the-consequences]

After the End

Continuation of season 2x06

Nina and Maggie saw something was wrong with Crowley, the bookshop was empty if it wasn't for him walking in and out of it, and Muriel standing guard in front.

They needed to talk, again.

After they could catch Crowley, and see what happened, they were trying to understand the sudden change of heart. Maggie asked.

- But he's the landlord here, it's not only his bookshop it's everyone else! You two were just dancing together, I saw you when he pulled you in,  he was so happy to do so!

- I don't get it! - Crowley fumed - when I was inside the bookshop with him and, well everyone, he was saying he made his point clear! He wants to stay. Then suddenly Metatron is offering him coffee, him taking a sip, I get an alerting evil look from the voice of God, and then after spending one minute with him outside without me, he suddenly wants to join and accept the position!

Nina and Maggie looked together, Nina starting to feel something was off too.

- I mean, that evil look could be that I am a demon, of course everyone hates me.

Maggie tried to calm him.

- But Aziraphale doesn't hate you. Did he ever look at you like that?

- No, not really. But that's different! He knows me.

Nina started thinking and brought up the story she's just been through.

- How did he look like? What was his coffee?

- Not so tall, old man with grey hair with, I don't know, latte? With almond syrup? He said with all the almonds.

- That was him. He looked very strange. He asked me about the name of the shop. He said, "No one ever asks for death, do they? So predictable. They always rather take the coffee." I remembered it, because it was very off.

Crowley turned his head at the table, eyebrows furrowed from confusion and concluding.

"What if-"

Maggie continued.

- They waited for you to be separated? But why?

Crowley remembered, Aziraphale's and the angels' and demons' words. "25 Lazarii", "so strong like an archangel's", then he himself admitted in front of them "if we do a miracle together it works all too well", but it was all just a fraction of a miracle that they shared.

- Maybe... We were too strong together... I told them we worked together... Then Metatron appeared, and only asked me after the other angels didn't recognize him.

- Why didn't they? - Maggie asked.

- I-I don't know really, angels don't get along too well, it's hard to find anyone who is nice to you there. Kind of like in hell.

Maggie calculated in herself too, then Nina continued.

- That old man barged in, asked you to answer who he was? Why you? You aren't even an angel!

- I don't know he wanted to talk about Aziraphale. Strange that he didn't ask him, he was the one who he recently spoke to, only a few years ago... Then he gave Aziraphale the coffee, noone ever from our sides consumes any food or drink, it's our own thing, by the way. Then he started praising him until he brought me into the picture, that he could forgive forgive me, and turn me back into an angel.

- What?! You? Can they do that? - Maggie asked.

- I mean if they have the power, I guess. I'm not sure.

- So if I got it right, that old man offered familarity in the form of drink to Aziraphale, pushed on after he said no to the offer, got you separated, used you and your redemption as a bargain. Did Aziraphale act differently, strange? Did he give you a look of worry when you last saw him?

- ...Now that you mention it... Yes, he did, but-

- Crowley, that sounds, an awful lot like how manipulations look like. Trust me, I got my fair share to know. Your angel is in serious danger, you have to get him out of there and save him! He's being manipulated! 

Crowley's heart started to race, because even if he fucked it up, it made sense to him. Adrenaline was pumping through his veins, along with anxiety. Anger and rage blaze in him, like magma, trying to come to the surface.

- Why can't they just leave us be?! Why can't he come with me when I say so! Why couldn't I shut up?! I had to tell everyone our trick, because ofcourse I had to!

- Crowley, calm down - Nina said - you can't be angry now. Not until we know what to do.

- Muriel - he got a spark of an idea - She's the only one I can get into Heaven with - Crowley exclaimed - we did it before, it could work again.

- Then go! Go! Ask her!

- ...Nghh! There's a problem. Metatron said he needs her for something. They could use her against us. She might as well end up in the crossfire, she doesn't deserve it. So don't tell her anything that I don't.

- ... Ah bloody hell. We need to come up with something!

- ...I can't just enter Heaven. If they really offered him coffee or death, there's a chance they will kill us the moment they see me. I just need to get to him. But they know my face now. Except...

- Muriel!

Crowley yelled out to her as he was crossing the street.

- Oh, Mr. Grumpy! Hello! What's wrong?

- We need to talk.

- We? - she asked confusedly.

- We, the four of us, with Maggie and Nina.

- But-

- Oh come on! Just a chat with humans, it will be a good practice for you! You need it to do a better job for Heaven.

- Well, that's true... alright!

Next

[healingtheworldwithboburnham]

Ineffable Husbands x Taylor Swift (pt 3)

This is Red + 1989 telling their story, again, with [my commentary in brackets].

State of Grace - “So you were never a saint, and I loved in shades of wrong. We learn to live with the pain, mosaic broken hearts. But this love is brave and wild… This is a state of grace. This is a worthwhile fight. Love is a ruthless game, unless you play it good and right. These are the hands of fate. You’re my Achilles heel. This is the golden age of something good and right and real.” [Their relationship is a worthwhile fight, but love is a ruthless game and the S2 ending was not played good or right.]

The Last Time - “This is the last time I’m asking you this. Put my name at the top of your list [before Heaven]. This is the last time I’m asking you why you break my heart in the blink of an eye.”

Holy Ground - “And for the first time I had something to lose. And I guess we fell apart in the usual way, and the story’s got dust on every page. But sometimes I wonder how you think about it now, and I see your face in every crowd. ‘Cause darling, it was good, never looking down. And right there where we stood was holy ground.”

Sad, Beautiful, Tragic - “And you’ve got your demons, and darling, they all look like me. ‘Cause we had a beautiful, magic love there. What a sad, beautiful, tragic love affair.” [ouch]

Run - “And run, like you’d run from the law [Heaven/Hell]. Darling, let’s run. Run from it all. We can go where our eyes take us, go where no one else is [Alpha Centauri], run.”

Style - for their impeccable sense of style

Out Of The Woods - “You [Furfur] took a Polaroid of us, then discovered the rest of the world was black and white, and we were in screaming color. And I remember thinking are we out of the woods yet? [they were not]

Wildest Dreams - “He said let’s get out of this town, drive out of the city, away from the crowds. I thought Heaven can’t help me now, nothing lasts forever. But this is gonna take me down. He’s to tall, and handsome as hell. He’s so bad, but he does it so well.” [this is so Aziraphale about Crowley pre-S2 ending]

I Know Places - [Alpha Centauri] “Cause they got the cages, they got the boxes, and guns. They are the hunters, we are the foxes, and we run. Baby, I know places we won’t be found and they’ll be chasing their tails tryna track us down.”

You Are In Love - “One night, he wakes, strange look on his face. Pauses, then says, you’re my best friend. And you knew what it was, he is in love… And you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars. And why I’ve spent my whole life tryna put it into words.” [So cute to imagine Aziraphale going about life on Earth being so confused as to how these humans could just kill and kill and kill, until he feels that passion for Crowley and it all clicks.”

[mangodestroyer]

Hence why I would say he's more of a teddy bear than a bear-bear. My idea of a bear would be... a little hairier? A little more casual wear? Probably tall rather than short? Someone who has a total dad body. Aziraphale is more of a plump, proper, and pampered British guy. In fact, you would never in a thousand years guess that he's strong enough to casually lift a boulder half his size like it's styrofoam.

I've personally always hated how conventional beauty even became a thing. Even with all these pushes to promote more unconventional forms of attractiveness, people still default to wanting super-model hot individuals. I say this as a person who has a more unconventional appearance, and who constantly shifts between feeling attractive in a very unique way, and feeling hideous because it just doesn't seem to be what people want. Growing up, it always felt like people wanted tall, thin, blonde haired and blue eyed individuals. Sharp, small noses, perfect proportions (which usually means very long legs for AFAB), certain jawlines, etc. It still feels this way tbh (I've never met a person with these qualities who struggled to get into a relationship). It kind of shocks me how many people get bent over not having the perfect partner (although said people who want perfection tend to be really toxic). I refuse to change myself just to be more appealing to the masses (in other words, ridding myself of my personality and rejecting my gender identity by caking myself in make-up). But it sucks knowing that being yourself and just being different means getting overlooked. I also came to realize, months after breaking up with my ex, that there were so many signs that they may have been lying about finding me attractive. Literally everyone who knew about this relationship even told me so. So I'm not only overlooked, I'm just a last resort option for those who don't want to be single.

But then I see people get into relationships with super attractive individuals with a lot going for them who... don't seem like they should be getting those individuals? Sometimes, it's an old man with a 20-year-old woman. Sometimes, it's someone who is both very unfortunate appearance wise and doesn't take care of their hygiene. Sometimes, it's a person who is seriously a dysfunctional wreck and should probably be getting help rather than dating someone. Sometimes, it's a person who refuses to work (despite not having a disability) and spends so much time playing video games. Often times, these people don't even have a good personality, or really anything going for them and can even sometimes be abusive in some way. They're the types of people who make chronically single people who want relationships say, "How am I still single?" Attraction is weird, mysterious thing.

And yeah, I agree. I think conventional beauty is boring. I think lots of people look just fine. Even people who might not be considered very attractive. I think there are also lots of people leading unconventional lifestyles and who have "weird" hobbies who also seem fine. TV shows where everyone is a hot af mf are so Goddamn boring. All the characters look and act the same. Hell, even if Crowley is generally agreed upon to be a sexy beast in the fandom, not everything about him is "perfect" or conventionally good looking. He has crooked teeth, for one. Some people hate crooked teeth. I personally think that adds to his cuteness. Perfect, straight, white teeth are overrated anyway. They look unnatural and creepy on most people imo. I'm sure Aziraphale would agree on that sentiment. He seems that type who would find Crowley's imperfect teeth endearing.

Well, I think it makes sense that a confused, amnesiac Gabriel would be drawn to Aziraphale. Azi kind of has that motherly nature about him. He looks like a very safe person to hang around. I would probably feel very comfortable in his presence too. I've even wondered for the longest time if that's something that drew Crowley to him. Why he approached him on the gate in the first place.

In my human AU, Gabriel is Aziraphale's cousin. They grew up spending a lot of time together. Gabriel acts a little bit like a mean brother to him at times. He also works in a higher ranking position than him at the same company, which probably isn't alright legally (idk all the laws on this) but I see it happen all the time irl. He totally got Aziraphale a job he wants, but is still an annoying jerk to him at times. He also acts like he owns the place and thinks everyone loves him.

I also headcanon Gabriel as being on the bisexual spectrum. I'm not really sure why. A lot of people would probably assume he's straight, but I just get a vibe from him. I feel like he would usually be more attracted to feminine and non-binary individuals. And I could just easily see him having a thing for Crowley. Basically seeing him/they/her as that weird, hot goth girl. I know he wouldn't like the fact that Crowley is put off by him, and makes that pretty obvious. Maybe he's even one of those weird men who feels like women who don't like them are a challenge to overcome. Those controlling types who love free-spirited individuals (which is what I seem to attract if I attract anyone at all). Which is... yuck! That's probably what Lucifer was to Crowley. Controlling.

Aziraphale knows how to treat the lovely Crowley. He's a gentleman. He respects his boundaries, forgives him for not being perfect, and appreciates so much about him. Crowley couldn't ask for better. Like I said, Aziraphale does have a lot going for him, on top of having a great personality and treating people right. Gabriel probably resents the fact that he's able to attract people like Crowley.

Aziraphale is so fuckin' beautiful wtf

[malereader-inserts]

Trial and Error

Fandom: Good Omens Pairing: Ineffable Husbands & Son!Reader Summary: It's all about trial and error, and a lot of error Word Count: 910 Request: @dexpairs-blog: Hey! I just read your ineffable husbands x son!reader fic! It's so good omg!!If you're okay with it could i request some headcanons/or a oneshot (your choice) with them teaching their son how to use his magic or how to fly since they're having a hard time learning A/n: I'm actually considering doing Chicago Med fanfics.

"He is a child!"

"He needs to learn at some point!"

"I'm literally right here."

Aziraphale and Crowley turn to look at you sitting on a chair, sure you looked like a teenager and if that is the form you decide to stay in, you were technically still a babe in the eyes of heaven and hell. You won't actually reach adulthood till a few hundred years old, so, you were the freest child on the whole planet.

"I want to learn," You say optimistically, "I think I'm ready."

"No, absolutely not," Aziraphale exclaim, coming to suffocate you into a hug, your face squished upon his chest as he holds you dear, "You're still a baby, and no baby needs to learn any flying or magic."

"Angel, love," Crowley drawls out, "Don't forget our baby is not normal-"

"Thanks."

"Watch it," Crowley scowls as you can't help but smirk as you wipe the sweat from your face, finally able to breathe from your father's grip, "He's a demon and an angel, so, we want to prove everyone wrong that he is neutral and better than everyone."

"Dad's right, father," You hummed, as Crowley smugly smiles at his husband, "But, father's also correct, what if I'm not ready."

"You literally said two seconds ago that you were ready."

"Now, now," Aziraphale hummed, "We can't force you to do something you're not ready. But, if you want to really start learning then," He sighs defeatedly, "I won't oppose you."

"I want to do it."

"Then it's decided."

"Crowley!" Aziraphale screamed, "Why did you push our child off a building?"

"He's durable."

"Not invincible!"

"Are you guys done arguing?" You asked, you were levitating in the air, looking at your parents, arms crossed over your chest.

There you were flying, sure, to the human eyes they can just see you as levitating, but your parents know better that your wings were the reason for you floating. You looked pretty unscathed as a little annoyed but Aziraphale let out a sigh of relief.

"See, angel, knew he could fly."

"That still doesn't warrant the fact that you pushed him off a building, you're lucky Crowley we're going this in the countryside with the only tall building. Imagine the mess we will have if anyone saw him like this!"

"I originally pushed him out of a window, but that didn't work."

"I almost broke my arm."

"(Y/n), I thought you wouldn't tell him that!"

You shrugged your shoulders, looking bemused as your fathers started to argue, you cannot help but smile at their stupidity before lowing yourself gently and hoping they sort themselves out.

"All you need to do is put your mind to it."

"As if I haven't heard that a million times already," You grumbled under your breath.

"What was that?" Aziraphale turns to look at you confused, almost intrigued with what you said.

You flush in embarrassment, "Nothing, father."

"Alright!" He claps his hands, rubbing them before placing them gently on his lap, "All you need is to focus on what you want to do, say, you were to turn the lights on. Then, you just need to think about lights being on and snap your fingers."

"Easier said than done," You huffed, as you looked at your father with a tired expression, "And this is super easy stuff, why can't I do it?"

"Hey," Your father coos softly, "You're still young, my boy, all we can do is try. Plus, your powers probably haven't come through yet, so there isn't a need to be sad about it."

"I guess..."

"Alright, why don't we try it again? And if not, why don't you get some rest."

You let out one last sigh as you turn to look at the lantern before you, you look at it in disgust as if you wanted to burst the lightbulb within it. You raised your dominant hand before snapping your fingers, what you were expecting was a defeated fizzle that the light attempted to turn on or nothing to happen, but what happened instead was the bulb smashing.

"Oh, dear!"

"Well, that worked," You say with little enthusiasm, as your father looks at you inquisitively, "I was getting annoyed and I couldn't get it out of my mind that I just wanted it to smash than actually turn it on."

"Well..." Aziraphale trailed off, "I guess it did work, well done my boy."

"Thanks, father!"

"You know, I heard him praying last night," Aziraphale hummed, stirring his tea as Crowley rolled his eyes, "I don't know who to."

"Well, you don't exactly pray to the devil," Crowley replied sarcastically as Aziraphale gives him a look, "I'm just saying, anyway, where is this going?"

"Maybe, we're pushing him too hard," Aziraphale expressed, sighing as he sat down next to his lover, "I heard him praying for his powers to be there, he doesn't want us to be disappointed in him."

"Maybe we are too hard on him."

"Yes, exactly, and he's still a babe, there are many years ahead to let him learn his powers, control them and use them. I don't think we need to rush him at all."

"Then, it's decided, we will talk to him about it."

Aziraphale let out a noise of satisfaction, "Well, this is a first for you, to talk things out."

Crowley simply gives him a smile, "You're lucky I love you and our son."

"Aren't we lucky?"

[aziraphales-library]

Hi! Do you have any Good Omens and Doctor Who crossovers? Specifically with Crowley meeting the Tenth Doctor? Thanks :)

Hello! We have some Good Omens/Doctor Who crossover recs here, and  I’ve got some more now...

Angels by I_llbedammned (G)

Everything is going just swimmingly for the Tenth Doctor when he notices something going terribly wrong in early 2000s London. He decides to land in a place where a past version of himself is lurking :Crowley. Taking place after the Apoca-wasn't, the Tenth Doctor has to work with Aziraphale and Crowley to rectify a problem in the space-time continuum that has caused a surplus of weeping angels to start invading.

The angel and demon of SoHo by GreenGlitchBitch (T)

“Rose, don’t go out there! We have no idea what’s behind that door!” the Doctor shouted, grabbing his coat and quickly putting it on, as he rushed to her side. She huffed a sigh, and moved away from the door, crossing her arms. “Then you look out” she said, and he took a deep breath as his hand grabbed the door handle, and he pulled the door open. But the sight he was greeted with shocked him more than he expected it would. It looked like...London’s SoHo? He and Rose shared a look of confusion, still standing in the doorway, before a familiar voice yelled at them. “Oi! I thought we were to be left alone from now on! What the Heaven is that box? Some kind of kidnapping device?!” the voice asked angrily. “Doctor, that sounds like you” Rose said with a start. “Yeah, it does. Let’s go find out who it is” the Doctor said, and together, they walked out of the TARDIS.

This Isn't the Angel I Wanted by JustADragon (G)

Crowley returns to his flat after traveling to America for a temptation, only to encounter an uninvited guest. Aziraphale flings himself headfirst into dealing with the problem, who in turn ropes a certain Time Lord into helping out.

The Beauty of Alpha Centauri by PeachGO3 (T)

On their way to Alpha Centauri, an angel and a demon crash into a blue box. Time to catch up on things. Revelations ensue.

Ineffable Companion by King_Scrungo (Series) (G)

Hoping to get a break from Aziraphale's non-stop antics, Crowley contacts another universe through an inter-dimensional rift in Cardiff, Wales. In this universe, he encounters a very strange man who calls himself simply "The Doctor," whom he dismisses as a dangerous lunatic. In a universe without Heaven or Hell, however, Crowley has become halfway mortal. Finding himself trapped in a parallel reality and out of options, the demon enlists The Doctor's help in order to return home before something kills him. Together, the two of them go on a whole host of adventures in an effort to save the universe and - more importantly - Crowley.

where fire and ice collide by Bootstrap_Paradox (T)

Something strange is happening in Tadfield. Strange enough to persuade the 17-year-old Adam that it is time to consult the grown-ups. Not his parents, of course, but another happily married couple - Aziraphale and Crowley. A phone call from a worried anti-christ is enough to turn even the quietest of mornings hectic, but the surprises don't end there. An hour later, two unusual visitors turn up at the doors of the closed bookshops: a blonde young woman, and a tall, skinny man. A man who looks almost exactly like Crowley. Now the Doctor and Rose are teaming up with Aziraphale and Crowley to investigate the mysterious, indescribable something that awaits them in the depths of Hogback Wood...

- Mod D

[prettybirdy979]

Fic: Aziraphale/Crowley - Guard Snake

Please feel free to send me any prompts. More of my fics here. This thing got so long...

There’s a section, in Aziraphale’s bookshop, roped off from the rest with a large sign that says ‘Please ask for assistance for books in this section’. It contains Aziraphale’s rarest and most fragile of books, the sort that are dangerous to touch for a multitude of reasons, many of which can be boiled down to ‘if you do, the angel will smite you’. 

It is, of course, impossible to get Aziraphale’s attention if you do want to access the section, meaning it is the perfect place for a snake to nap, if he doesn’t want any attention.

So when Crowley hears a voice near this section he’s instantly awake.

‘Yes, I’ll be home soon. Just looking at Fell’s; seeing if anything is worth the investment.’

Crowley moves so he can see the woman, who is dragging along a small child while talking on her phone. She’s a step or two from the rope to this section, heading straight for it. And not slowing down.

Now, Crowly fully understands the frustration Azirpahale can create in a person. He knows his angel. So if a person was to say, see the sign and wait for an extended period of time while his angel determinately ignored them before they tried to access the section well. He understands. He’d still be pissed and react accordingly, but he would temper it with understanding.

This woman does not do that. This woman looks at the sign, scoffs, then walks past.

Crowley’s next action is fully justified.

He hisses as he strikes from his position on a tall bookcase, deliberately aiming to miss the woman. Like he wants the taste of her in his fangs.

She screams as the child she’s dragging along cries out with delight.

‘Snake!’ the child calls.

‘Snake!’ the woman screams.

‘For duck’s sake!’ Aziraphale cries as he appears behind the woman and child. ‘What are you doing in there?’

‘There’s a SNAKE!’ the woman screams in Aziraphale’s face, her own face going red with anger. She has a firm grip on her child who is trying to pull away to get closer to Crowley. Crowley, for his part, has retreated back up the bookcase and is moving towards Aziraphale.

‘Of course there is,’ Aziraphale says, putting his hand up. Crowley gratefully slithers down it and wraps himself around Aziraphale’s neck.

The woman goes redder as the child ‘oohs’ at Crowley. ‘You have a SNAKE in your BOOKSHOP.’

‘Yes. He’s a guard snake.’

The woman opens her mouth repeatedly, not saying anything.

The child’s eyes go wide. ‘You can have guard snakes?’

Aziraphale nods. ‘This one belongs to my husband. He’s one of a kind.’

‘What’s his name?’ the child asks and Crowley feels Aziraphale freeze.

Shit.

Just use that name, it’s fine for this one time.

Aziraphale is not a mind reader. ‘Hissy,’ he says.

‘Hissy!’ the child cries with delight.

‘Hissy?!’ the woman screeches with confusion

Hissy! Crowley thinks with outrage.

‘Yes. And he is one of the reasons this section is by assistance only. So I am going to have to ask you both to leave. Now.’

The woman opens her mouth, probably to scream some more. Crowley feels the moment Aziraphale shifts, lets a little of himself out. The woman closes her mouth.

Best move to do, really, in the face of a peeved angel.

She turns and drags her child out, ignoring their cries to let them go see the snake please, please Mum, please.

‘Hissy?!’ Crowley asks later, when he’s back in a human shape and they’re sitting on the couch, drinking. ‘Hissy?!’

‘I panicked.’

‘Clearly. Especially when there’s a perfectly obvious name you could have used.’

Aziraphale blinks. ‘Your name is well known around here, if I’d named ‘your’ snake for you, people might talk.’

This angel. ‘Aziraphale, Crawley.’

‘You hate that name. I know you do, you did the literal Hell’s worth of paperwork to change it. I’m not using it, not even for a snake you.’

Crowley swallows the whole glass of wine he’s holding, to avoid admitting to an emotion. He then fishes the glass out of his mouth as Aziraphale frowns at him for his avoidance techniques.

‘I love you too,’ Aziraphale says. ‘Though next time, warn for that, it’s not a pleasant look.’

Crowley hisses at his angel. Then, ‘...love you too.’

[megastarstriker]

~{Unfortunate Events}~𝑨𝒛𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓  𝒙 𝑪𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒆𝒚 ---------------------------------------------- 𝓟𝓡𝓞𝓛𝓞𝓖𝓤𝓔 •·················•·················•

=====================================

“Faithful Encounters”

   Part Two

< previous

=================================

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Aziraphale x reader x Crowley

𝙁𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙢: Good Omens

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩:??

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: She was just the new angel that day, only to be casted out on the spot, like a baby bird being thrown out of its nest to learn how to fly on its own against its will. She was an outcast and had no place or purpose there or even in the pits of fire. Now she finds herself reliving her traumatizing nightmare when she was child, as she counts the final days of the world’s demise as she plans ruining ‘The Lady Above’s Great Plan’.( I do not own Good Omens or its characters only the ones I create.)

𝑲𝒆𝒚𝒔 :

(Y/N) = Your Name

(S/C) = Skin Color

(B/T) = Body Type

(H/C) = Hair Color

(H/L) = Hair Length

(H/S) = Hair Style

(Y/A) = Your Accent

(F/C) = Favorite Clothing

=============================================================

TOM HIDDLESTON  as 𝘼𝙯𝙖𝙯𝙚𝙡

I walked down briskly as I looked at my watch.

“No way in hell that was Crowley”, I whispered to myself harshly hoping no one could hear me, as I walked through the crowded streets.

‘But then again he was literally from hell’ I thought with quite the reasoning but shook my head from those silly thoughts, and kept walking until I saw the Ritz.

‘Seriously what are the chances I was gonna meet Aziraphale as well’, I thought with a nervous chuckle,’ I’m pretty sure its very low and if it were to happen it will be from complete coincidence. Besides as far as I know, does not leave his bookshop on busy days and this day is no exception from that.’

I then opened the door to the Ritz and looked around to see if a spotted a certain friend of mine and surely enough from all of the people that were either talking, chattering , simply sitting in a calm fashion there was only one of the rest that had there arm raising as they waved excitedly at me in a likely childish way.

Almighty, I thought with a sigh as I walked towards the smiling lady at her table.

“Hey, (Y/N)”, she said in a cheery voice as she welcomed me.

“Hello, Elizabeth how are you doing?”, I asked a bit bored yet happy tone to see her.

“Good, well don’t just stand there have a seat!”, She said as she gestured to the seat across from her as I gladly made myself comfortable,” I’m so glad to see you didn’t keep me waiting like the last time.”

“Well, I was planning on doing it again, but I rather prefer this side of yours than the other as much as I hate to admit it.”, I replied with smirk as 

“You are such a meanie you know that”, She replied with playful expression as she slapped my hand lightly.

“Only when I want to, of course.”, I replied with a small chuckle as I fixed my seat,” So what was this ’Oh So important gossiping thing’ you had to tell me anyways, that you apparently dragged me here for.”

“Well, if you’re insisting then I guess I should tell you”, She replies,” Anyways..”

After we ordered our food and waited ,a whole 20 minutes passed of her telling me how her day was, she then started to ask me how was my day.

“Oh nothing really”, I said trying to keep my face neutral but failed as I lied.

“Oh Big Bullocks, tell me because from the looks of that face you’re making it seems you saw something interesting all right and I wanna know.”, She replied clearly not buying my lie for a minute.

“I sort of ran into a guy ,an old friend of mine, who I was very close friends with-”, I responded midsentence but was cut off by her to continue.

“You what?!”, She said her eyes wide as saucers with a excited grin as she misinterpreted what I just said,”(Y/N) do you know what this means, what you just said?”

“Um, sort of... I”, I responded in confusion as my eyes squinted at her slightly.

“You are in love!”, She said as she smiled widely and squealed like nails on a chalkboard.

Catching on to what she was saying I immediately declined.

“Oh no no its nothing like that, believe me your getting way ahead of yourself,” I responded in a bland expression as I tried to hide meekly blush appearing on my cheeks.

“Of course it is, you’re only making it more obvious by denying it you know”, She replied trying to pry out the information out of me.

“No there isn’t any love indication with him and I’m sure of it. I’m serious”, I replied trying to think of a way to change the subject.

I then spotted the food tray on our table.

“Oh wow would you look at that the food has arrived!”, I said in a cheerful tone as I thanked the waiter for bringing our food.

“Mark my words, (Y/N) (L/N) I will find out your secret, you so cravingly hide.”, She said as she pointed the spoon at me as she squinted her eyes at me.

“Speaking of cravings. Let’s eat.” I said suddenly successfully changing the subject.

After we finished eating and payed for our delicious food, we headed outside for a walk.

“So were would you like to go?”, I asked her as I walked beside her.

“Well there is this bookshop, I’ve been wanting to go to, maybe look at some books.”, She said thinking out loud as she paced through her mind,” It’s a few blocks away I believe if I’m correct.”

“Well, I’ll go if you go. Lead the way”, I said as I followed her 

It took us a few moments to get there but when we did reach the bookshop I couldn’t help but have the feeling I’ve seen this before.

“A.Z. Fell & Co. Bookshop”, I read as I looked at the sign, the store’s outward appearance was a bright red and had two signs one that said ‘OPEN’ and other had an Opening hours that was surprisingly and oddly long. It read:

Bookshop Opening Hours

"I open the shop on most weekdays about 9:30 AM. perhaps 10AM. While occasionally I open the shop as early as 8, I have been known not to open until 1. Except on Tuesday. I tend to close about 3:30 PM, or earlier if something needs tending to. However, I might occasionally keep the shop open until 8 or 9 at night, you never know when you might need some night reading. On days that I am not in, the shop will remain closed. On weekends, I will open the shop during normal hours unless I am elsewhere. Bank Mondays will be treated in the usual fashion, with early closing on Wednesdays, or sometimes Fridays.

(For Sundays see Tuesdays)

A. Z. Fell, Bookseller"

“Well from the looks of it it’s opened,” I said as I ignored the long opening hour sign in front of me as it was far too tiring to read,” After you.”

I opened the door for my friend while I followed behind her as the door closed causing a ‘ding’ of a bell to sound on the shop, alerting that someone had entered.

I awed in amazement as I saw the bountiful of books in the shelves, 

‘This place looked stunning, even more than my library at home’ I thought as I scanned the bookshelves that held many marvelous and classical books.

“Oh no! I have to leave”, I heard Elizabeth say in panic,  As she looked at her watch with wide eyes,” I’ll get fired if I don’t hurry, I’m sorry I couldn’t stay for long.”

“It’s Okay, besides we’ll meet some other time”, I said giving her a small smile.

“Thank You for understanding”, She said giving me a small smile of her own,” Well, I’m off. Bring me a book as well!”

Just like that, she left the shop leaving me and the peaceful silence to myself. I went back to scanning the room in the shop and the books.

I came across a bookshelf and started dragging my fingers across the books embroidered and well- defined spines. I came across one that read “To Kill a Mockingbird A Novel by Harper Lee.”

As I was about to take the precious book from the shelf I heard a clear cough from someone behind, causing me to flinch and startling me as I backed away causing my back to hit something as I felt it touch my shoulder very delicately but the. As I was about to take the precious book from the shelf  

“U-Umm Excuse me, sorry to inter-”, I heard a voice say behind me, after it cleared its throat awkwardly.

Startling me, I jumped and backed away causing my back to hit something as I felt it touch my shoulders very delicately but then disappear as I heard footsteps back away from behind me. 

“Oh Dear, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” The masculine voice said in a soft tone.

I then turned around quickly locking eyes with two bright and beautiful ocean ones. The man—I had now confirmed—seemed to fit right in with the rest of the shop. His clothes had a very vintage feel to them, and although it was highly unlikely, something in myself told me that they were all original. He was not terribly tall, but he wasn’t short, either. He had such a kind face, that was currently frowning in embarrassment. All of this was topped off by some extremely blond curls—so blond in fact that they may as well have been white. Although he would not be considered particularly handsome by most estimates, something about him was drawing me to him like bread to butter.  the person did had some gained weight on him that had stood out very adorably with his nifty pastel suit and brown shoes that perfectly matched his cute little white bow tie on his neck. There was this sense of peaceful aura circulating around in a radiating way when I was near him. There was no denying in my mind that this person looked oh so gorgeous and undoubtedly out of a masterpiece painting. Purity and dainty was marked and sculptured in his beauty like an angel with perfection. Exactly like an angel. No, He was an angel. It was Aziraphale without a doubt in mind.

“You just looked so happy and so focused, I just thought it would be rude and no good manner of mine to interrupt your concentration.”, He said as he looked down in a meek and shy manner a nervous smile planted on his plump rosy lips.

“U-Um no worries...its Okay”, I started to say in a stammer, as I felt my cheeks burn in embarrassment as I stared at him. ’Why am I stammering’ I thought in my head as I have never had occurred to have done this before.

“Oh really, well that’s good to hear, Crowley said that I had a tendency of sneaking up on people.”, Aziraphale said a hint of relief in his voice and with heart-warming smile along with chuckle.

I laughed as well feeling my heart skipped a beat and beating out of my chest repeatedly as if the sound I just heard was the most perfect sound ever created. ’Seriously what’s going on with me’ I thought in my mind thinking I was probably sick or coming down with something

“Good Heaven’s, where are my manners? I’m Aziraphale and the current owner of this shop. And you are miss...?”, He said as he held out his hand in a welcome fashion

“Mrs. (L/N), but my friends call me (Y/N) and its an honor to be standing in your bookshop”, I replied as I shook his warm hand gently in mine. 

“Oh, Thank You and its great to meet your acquaintance...”, He said with a happy grin on his face as he shook my hand happily.

“Have you come to purchase a book here by any chance.”, He asked as he let go of my hand and put both of them behind his back, his face changing in a neutral expression,” Because if you were so happened to be here for that matter, I’m afraid it’s closed.”

“Well, I- Um, had a friend who so happened that wanted to come here, but she left moments ago and I’m afraid she won’t come later,” I explained in a nice manner,” We were planning on looking about around your shop and see what books you had in here, and maybe buy one not completely sure. You see this is our first time at your bookshop. The sign outside said it was “OPEN” if I remembered.”

“Oh I must of forgotten to turn the sign at the door! I can be really so forgetful at times,” Aziraphale said in realization with a hint of horror, then his face was wearing a small smile that was adorned prettily with his rosy cheeks as he rambled with excitement, ”Well then, my dearest of welcome to you and U-Um you are free to look around the shelves in the shop and pick your book, you can also come to me if you have any trouble if you’d like or need any assistance in picking one, of course there’s that one-- Oh goodness me ”

“Well now that you mention it, I actually don’t even know what book to look for, I hope it wouldn’t be a bother if I could ask for some help from you, Aziraphale?”, I replied as I smiled slightly at him saying his name in a soft tone.

He looked at me with those captivating eyes of his and hastily replied, ”N-no it wouldn’t be at all, on the contrary I actually enjoy helping people and its my job, especially with finding a good book to read. I like reading myself, you see and in terms of working here I pretty much know all of these books from top to bottom. You never know when someone needs a good night reading or any literature for that matter. ”

“Wow you mean, you work here all by yourself and do everything around here.��� I said in complete amazement as I looked at this person with utter most respect as I followed him at his side.

“Y-yes I do in fact, but its never a bother for me ,really. It keeps me more motivated to do things around and it keeps me busy, despite how hard it is. It does get quite lonely here, but the silence hear is lovely and perfect for reading-- I’m rambling again aren’t I? ”

“Oh its okay ramble away if you have to, its quite entertaining. You weren’t joking about the shop being quiet though,” I said as I let out a joyful chuckle, trailing behind him.

“You are too nice and yes it is quiet indeed”, He agreed as he laughed along, he then went and carried a big stack of books towards, ”I’ll be back, once I’m done organizing these over on that shelf”

The books looked pretty heavy and there where piled no more higher than him and it worried me that it was going to fall as it wiggled and the carrier holding the mount of books was having a lot of trouble.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help with that?”, I asked with concern as I watched him trying to look were he was going by peeking slightly at the front of the pile of assorted books.

“Uh No no need, Dear. Just having a bit of trouble carrying them that’s all, they are quite heavy.”, He said with a bashful chuckle as he kept walking towards a hallway his lips forming sounds of struggle.

Not buying a bit of his excuse, I decided to take it upon myself to follow him and as I stood in front of his view, grabbed half of the stacks that were above the pile as many as I could until I had the same amount of books in Aziraphale’s hands. Startled and now being able to see clearly as there were no more little than 7 or 6 books in his hands, he looked at me shocked and with softness in his eyes.

“You do know it’s okay, to ask for help, Right?”, I said with a smile, as I carried the pile of books in my hands.

“O-of course ....Thank You”, He said as he looked at me with slightly wide eyes in pure shock, a hint of shyness in his voice.

“Your welcome”, I replied with a small grin.

A few hours passed as I helped Aziraphale with sorting his books on the shelves, and he talked about many things and books as well as I did, the only sound in the shop was the clock ticking by. But as we did there was something that has been bothering me since we first talked. ‘Why didn’t he remember’, I thought with worry.

‘It has been many years since I’ve seen him so maybe it wouldn’t have really jogged his memory for me to appear, but then again I did kind of expected him to at least remember me’ I thought quite angrily yet understanding as I thought of  the angel,’ Couldn’t really blame him though with upstairs and all of that involved it wouldn’t surprise me for him to forget me, too many years of paperwork I guess. Shouldn’t that be a good thing though? I mean for all I know as much as an angel of a principality he is and may seem he could be working with heaven to execute me and he is danger to me if it does seem that way.

 “Well, now that the books are in there proper places”, Aziraphale said as he looked at the books he had just stocked with glee,” I’m ready to help you with finding the perfect book for you. So what do you like to read in your spare time?”

“Mostly about Paris or anything really that captures my attention, but to save your time after sorting all those books with me...,” I said as I paused for a moment to look at the bookshelf and analyzing each book, then later spotting one that caught my curious eye,” Aha! This one.”

I took it out and the embellished cover read, “Faust by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.” 

“Hmm its seems like a good read and exactly what I’m looking for”, I said as I pondered, looking at it for a moment,” Is it okay if I just borrow it?”

“I can tell and know how much these books mean to you, and besides I already have a library of my own at home. I do keep promises, when I say that I will return it as soon as I have finished it.”, I added knowing fully well why he seemed hesitant to reply to my question on borrowing the book.

“Well you did help and I appreciate it a bunch. As a matter a fact you can keep it,” He said almost a bit hesitant, but nonetheless very kindly and with a small smile, ”As a gift for helping me and all.”

“I couldn’t, I only helped because I wanted to not for something in return. I really can’t accept this”, I replied as I stubbornly declined his generous and absolutely kind offering.

“It’s a gift between friends”, He said softly as he looked at me,” I enjoyed your company very much, and It would make me very happy if you would accept it. I have an extra copy of that same book anyways”

Geez he really is an angel. He really lives the name up to its potential and meaning.

“Okay, but I’ll only accept it if you agree to let me help you around if you need any.”, I said as I held the book tightly in my hand,” and to let me come to your shop every once in a while. If you’ll let me that is?.”

“Since you insist, Of course and you are welcome to my shop whenever you can.”, He said in a friendly manner as he kept that smile on his face.

“Is it okay if I can read it in here for a while?”, I asked him half-wishing and half-hoping he would say yes,” That’s if you are fine with it.”

“There isn’t that many customers coming in today and I was about to sit down and catch up on my daily reading as well. Of course you can stay”, He responded with a glowing and beaming grin as he went to put on his reading glasses that looked very good on him.

“Thank You,” I said as my heart beat in excitement and with happiness mixed together.

“No need for that, I actually enjoy your company very much,” He responded waving off my “thanks”,” I’m afraid, its not every day you get to enjoy a nice book with someone else who likes them as much as I do. Glad to see, that I could share it with you.”

 “Would you like some tea?”, He asked me as he carried a tray with two cups.

“Oh yes. Thank you very much,” I replied as I took the cup he had placed in the small table in front of me.

I then remembered something important that I had to do today and quickly declined as I made up an excuse.

“Um, now that you mention it I can’t stay...”, I replied in a hurry as I rambled in explanation with embarrassment,” I had this thing going on  that I left at home and should be waiting for me ...”

“Oh really?”, He said in a surprised tone at my sudden outburst.

“Yes and I better get going, so have a nice and wonderful day.”, I said as I hurried for the door outside, before the man outside could open it. As I heard Aziraphale say ‘Come Again!’ behind me. I replied with a “Will do!” as the door to the shop closed swiftly behind me. Feeling blue and guilt for the angel I so much adored for not staying, as I thought of a way to repay him. I  sat down on a abandoned bench with no people walking in plain sight. I then grabbed my “Divine Comedy” book I had in my coat and looking sideways I mentally miracled some sticky note out of thin air with a pen and with my best calligraphy writing, I wrote:

“𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓐𝔃𝓲𝓻𝓪𝓹𝓱𝓪𝓵𝓮,

𝐼'𝓂 𝓈𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓇𝓊𝓃𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝒻𝒻 𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓁𝒾𝑒𝓇 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊, 𝐼 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝒾𝓉 𝒹𝒾𝒹𝓃'𝓉 𝒹𝒾𝓈𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒𝒹 𝑜𝓇 𝑜𝒻𝒻𝑒𝓃𝒹𝑒𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒾𝓃 𝒶𝓃𝓎 𝓌𝒶𝓎. 𝐼 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝑒𝓃𝒿𝑜𝓎𝑒𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝓅���𝓃𝓎 𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝓂𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝓉𝑜𝑜 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒶 𝓌𝑜𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝓂𝒾𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓁𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝑒𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝓎 𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹. 𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓉'𝓈 𝓌𝒽𝓎 𝐼 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝒾𝓉 𝓊𝓅 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊, 𝒷𝓎 𝑔𝑜𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓁𝓊𝓃𝒸𝒽 𝓉𝑜𝓂𝑜𝓇𝓇𝑜𝓌  𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓅𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝓉𝑜 𝒸𝒽𝑜𝑜𝓈𝑒, 𝒾𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝒹 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒻𝓇𝑒

𝐿𝑒𝓉'𝓈 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝑒𝒶𝒸𝒽 𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃

𝒲𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝐵𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈,

               (𝒴/𝒩) (𝐿/𝒩)

𝓟.𝓢. 𝐼 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒾𝒸𝑒𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝒾𝒹𝓃'𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒷𝑜𝑜𝓀 𝒾𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓅. 𝐻𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝒾𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔!”

I then put the cap on the pen and laid it down beside me. Taking out the written sticky note, I paste it on the front of the book’s cover and  miracled it to the shop with a snap of my fingers. I then grabbed the pen and sticky note box as I placed them neatly in the pockets of my coats. Whistling a tune, I couldn’t ignore the growing happy grin on my face, as my heart grew wings and did a happy dance as I would if I was alone and not in the public streets.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

{Nighttime}

I walked in a brisk pace as my feet hit the pavement on the ground as I made my long walk, As I approached my home and opened it. I then closed it and just when I did, I saw a silhouette of a man sitting in my chair in the moonlight as everything surrounding him was painted dark and pitch black.

“Home sweet Home”, The demon, Azazel said in a bored and mysterious tone as he looked at me with his piercing eyes, with a glint of curiosity behind it,”(Y/N)”

“What are you doing in my home?!” I asked startled and angry as I grabbed the vase next to me,” How many more times do I have to tell you to leave me alone before I resort to violence.”

“No hello? How nice of you. Well then, all greetings aside,” The demon said as it  approached quietly with each footstep, only to see  clearly as it stood in the light’s view, the demon looked and dressed decently in his black coat that he wore with his tie, hands clasped together behind his back and long black hair slicked back as he looked at me with a bored face,” I’m here to talk about business. I believe you know what I’m talking about.”

As I heard a thunder clap from outside, the pitter-pattering of rain resounding outside as it fell, covering the windows like a cascade or waterfall, I looked at the man in front of me with fury and disgust.

“Yes quite frankly, and no I’m not joining your side if that’s what you are offering. Neither you or them for that matter”, I said in irritation as I looked at the demon with a glare as I tried my best to be polite in the most hateful way as I pointed up and down to signify ‘Heaven and Hell’, I then pointed towards the door that leads to the outside,” There is the door, so you can show yourself off now.”

“Yes I know and I’m afraid, I won’t be doing that.”, He said with a dead and irritated tone obviously not bothered by my way of speaking,” I didn’t came here for that, I came because my Highness has sent a message for you.”

He then took something from his pocket and there was a letter with the name “Lucifer” burnt and imprinted on the front of the envelope with seal symbol of a pentagram.

“I don’t want his bribing or anything from him. I’m not some product or weapon to be bought with or to mess around ”, I said in a stern strict voice not wanting anything to with the demon or his poor excuse of his so called Highness, Lucifer, as I kept a confident posture, and not taking the envelope or so as to touch it whatsoever from his hands.

“It is not my place to say this, but the sooner you cut this weak and rubbish act of bravery and join our side, the easier it is for the both of us and this war,” He responded as he put the letter on the table,” In the end you don’t really have much of a choice, anyways.”

“What the hell are you talking about?!”, I asked in anger and irritation in my voice as I stood still in my spot in front of him somehow confused with what he said.

He then walked past me towards the door rudely, and not answering my question as he turn the doorknob and left not caring for the rain that pouring down from the star covered night sky, I followed after him in frustration as I yelled at him,” Answer me!”

“Oh I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise of the ‘Great Plan’, you’ll soon see yourself,” He responded as he stopped dead in his tracks, his back turned and facing me as drops of rain covered his body. He then turned his head towards me and said the sentence that I feared the most with a devilish-eating grin,” After All,......”

“𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐸𝓃𝒹 𝒾𝓈 𝒩𝒾𝑔𝒽”

=======================================================

{So what did you guys think?

I made Tom Hiddleston as my character Azazel because he fit the characteristics pretty well as he did for Loki. 

I hope you liked it 

and stay tuned for the next chapter}

[29-pieces]

Whumptober day 7 - Good Omens

Day 7: I’ve Got You Fandom/Setting: Good Onens, early 1800s read on AO3 read on FF.net

~*~

Teeth.

Teeth… everywhere. Curved teeth, wicked teeth, pointed teeth, teeth that injected fire, teeth that drowned him in waves of agony and screams.

Crowley had lost his sense of reality after the first bite, fangs sinking themselves into his thigh, bringing him to the ground. The growling and howling and snapping like nightmare fodder burned itself into his brain until all he heard other than his own pathetic cries was the snarling of the hellhound, and how could one hellhound have so many teeth anyway?

“Hush now… hush, my dear. I’ve got you.”

He tried to fight, just on principle, but Crowley already knew he was as good as dead. The blade stowed in his boot fell from nerveless fingers before he’d ever landed a single slice. Curse whichever one of his jealous workmates had sicced a HELLHOUND on him—two quid said it was Hastur—not that it mattered because the hellhound didn’t care that they were supposed to be on the same side, it only knew that there was flesh and blood and fear, and Satan how it thrived on all three.

Crowley felt his body literally ripping under the jaws of the hellhound. The worst of it wasn’t the rending of flesh, though, but the venom now working its way through his system. Not the kind that would kill. The kind that would disorient. The kind that would terrify. The kind that would bulldoze its way into his brain and smash it to pieces and leave him in a nightmare world incongruous with reality.

He screamed again.

“Crowley! I’m sorry, I have to drain the wounds, don’t fight me… that’s a good lad, you’re doing splendid. Oh please don’t make me hold you down…”

The attack stopped but the terror and the screaming didn’t. The air was filled with unearthly screeches, discordant voices of ancient monsters carrying dread. Crowley rolled away, head tipping back as he gasped through the searing pain. His vision was blurry and flooded in red. Through the haze, he saw a halo, as blinding as the face of God. Whatever it was saying, Crowley couldn’t decipher as he clapped his hands to his ears and curled in on himself, sobbing. The figure was dark and its eyes were full of fire, not like Hell but like purified molten gold and Crowley couldn’t bear to look. Somewhere close by, a hellhound bayed. Metal rang, the air shimmering like static and electrified will. Another howl. More of that voice with the distorted words.

A flash of lightning, or else a blade, and the hellhound was silenced mid-howl but the sound of it echoed in Crowley’s traumatized mind. It rose and fell in cascading waves in synchronization with the pulsation of the world around him. The ground slithered under his body and tiny devils danced in the wounds left by the hellhound fangs. Crowley watched them, shaking his head over and over to cast free the spell holding his mind, but the venom of a hellhound was not so easily dispelled.

Then the tall, dark figure turned slowly on the spot, rooted to the ground yet spritzing out of focus to appear in front of him in the same space of a breath. Crowley moaned and tried to back away as it loomed over him with terrifying gaze and razor teeth. It spoke. The words were nothing, garbled sounds ever rising in pitch. Then a clawed hand reached towards him and Crowley flung his arms out in a panicked attempt to ward the creature off. Its halo fragmented into a hundred pixels, casting prisms on the ground and the rivers of blood. He reached for the rainbows to find nothing there at all.

“Almost there… Almost, I promise. There’s only the one left. I’m so sorry, I know this hurts, but we’re almost done, Crowley.”

Crowley was weightless, hovering over the ground. The nameless voice—an angelic warrior, oh now he was REALLY dead, it would finish what the hellhound had started—was speaking to him. Curses and threats and taunts, no doubt, though his poisoned mind twisted it into the barest whisper repeating over and over:

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you… I’ve got you.”

A hellhound, he could fight, but an angel he could not. Crowley closed his eyes against the visions of a thousand mirrors breaking and raining their shards down over the earth, and the blank nothingness that lay behind them, an existential facade.

“There. All done, you should be right as rain. Now if you would only be so good as to open your eyes, please, Crowley.”

The whirling of space and time around him slowed to a crawl and then finally stopped altogether. His entire body was one big… throb. Nevertheless, Crowley felt an intense desire to pacify the owner of the voice, and when he finally peeled his eyelids back, he immediately remembered why.

“‘Ngel?” he croaked out through a dry mouth, blinking back his confusion to see Aziraphale there. Here. Wherever they were. Crowley looked around, quite certain this was Aziraphale’s new bookshop, but he couldn’t recall popping over for a visit and wasn’t sure how he’d managed to fall asleep there. Satan, why did his body hurt so much?

All other thoughts were pushed away at the sight of Aziraphale very nearly crumpling in relief.

“There you are,” the angel murmured, brushing a hand over Crowley’s forehead before he could be surprised about it. “And the fever’s down. I daresay you’re out of the woods.”

“Out of the- what happened?” Crowley made to sit up, but Aziraphale’s hand fell instantly to his shoulder, urging him back down.

“You had a bit of a run-in with a hellhound, I’m afraid,” the angel told him, face slack with remembered horrors that looked a bit like Crowley felt. “Nasty business.”

“Ngh,” Crowley agreed. “Yeah… okay, yeah, that- that sounds… familiar.” He looked up at Aziraphale in bafflement. “But how did I get here then? Shouldn’t I be dead? There was- something came and killed it, and-”

Oh.

Crowley closed his eyes to hide his embarrassment at the rather obvious fact that Aziraphale was the something that had come and killed it.

“Hellhound venom does some unpleasant things,” Aziraphale pointed out kindly but unnecessarily. “I expect it had you all confused about what was happening.”

“To say the least,” Crowley muttered, remembering snippets of nightmares involving existence itself melting away and how hard he’d tried to fight off his rescuer. “Lucky you were there.”

“Lucky you had a good blade,” Aziraphale countered as he held out Crowley’s stiletto knife. “I hadn’t brought anything. It was the oddest thing, I had such a sudden and urgent thought to go for a stroll through Whitechapel, I scarcely realized it before I was halfway there. And of course I heard that horrible beast from a mile away, didn’t even realize it was you there until I’d killed the wretched thing. Gabriel can’t be too cross over it, after all a hellhound is as bad for us as it is for you. But I was so afraid- but no, you’re going to be right as rain. I had to drain the wounds, you know, and you didn’t like that one bit.”

“Ngh.” Crowley was trying to remember if he had called out to the angel, though he would swear he hadn’t. Nothing to have tickled his friend’s attention, surely. Dangerous business, that, what if some other angel had heard it instead? Besides, the last thing he would have wanted was for Aziraphale to be in harm’s way, though he did forget at times that Aziraphale was quite the formidable warrior.

Well, a mystery for another day.

He realized then that Aziraphale was watching him anxiously; Crowley looked away. “Wot?”

“Are you alright, my dear? Hellhound venom can be… well… disturbing.”

Crowley swallowed, then took a bolstering breath. “Fine,” he airily tried. It fell flat. “Just having a hard time with… you know, what’s real and what’s not and whatnot.”

Aziraphale nodded like he understood, though Crowley hoped he didn’t, not from experience.

“Sorry,” the demon muttered next. “For… you know.” He doubted he’d made it easy on Aziraphale to get him somewhere safe or treat his wounds.

A hand closed over one of his, and Crowley looked up in surprise. Aziraphale’s eyes—not the blinding gold from before, but his own normal blue—were full of warmth and reassurance.

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for. I’m only glad Something led me there in time. Now listen, I’m going to put on some tea and you’re going to stay right there under the blankets until I’m quite satisfied you’re all recovered. No arguments! I daresay it’ll make me feel better, you know.”

Well, damn it all, Crowley couldn’t very well refuse, then.

He would, of course, never admit it under any amount of torture, but it did something good to the demon that Aziraphale would care half as much. Though he made a show of rolling his eyes and sinking back down with a sulk, Crowley saw the warmth warm a little warmer in the angel’s eyes and he knew that of course Aziraphale understood.

He always did.

[awkward-penguin-in-a-trenchcoat]

Supernatural and Good Omens Crossover

“Hey, Cas!” Dean shouted, a strange excitement clouding his voice (and judgement). Sam and Dean locked eyes for a moment, and Sam could’ve sworn for that brief second, he saw the corner of Dean’s mouth beginning to form a small smile. “Cas! You comin’ or what?!”

Castiel entered the bunker’s hall to see Sam and Dean standing in front of the table, a bowl perched hastily, surrounded by some very common ingredients for spells. A virgins blood, the bone of a saint, goat liver... you get the gist. 

As Cas edged forward, a blinding light shot up from the bowl, forming a beam-like shape right next to it. “Dean,” Cas said gruffly, and so very tiredly, “what are you doing?”

“Hey, c’mon man,” Dean replied, pouting, “you can clearly see our own personal witch Sammy has the spell book. Not me.” He raised his hands in mock surrender, causing both Cas and Sam to simultaneously roll their eyes.

“We got him,” Sam spoke finally, much to Dean’s content, and further, to Cas’ dismay, mostly because Castiel knew exactly what Dean was doing and he was very much, as the youth say, done now. 

Cas recalled a recent incident about the fight he had with Dean. It was late and Dean had just come back from a very exhausting demon hunt, which had turned out to be quite disastrous, what with all the involvement of Hell Hounds. 

Sam had gone to bed early that day, saying that he’d catch up on some research to help beat Chuck, but Cas and Dean both knew that whatever Sam was catching up on, it wasn’t research. Dean could hear dialogues sometimes, coming from Sam’s room. Most often, it was “Title of your sex tape”, which always intrigued Dean very much, and googling it turned out to be a very bad idea.  

So, Cas and Dean were relaxing in the kitchen, sharing a bottle of whiskey, talking about everything and nothing. Dean suddenly started talking about how Crowley had turned out to be not such a bad guy for a demon. Then Dean thought about how Heaven, Hell, the Empty and the Purgatory were all in utter chaos, which led his train of thoughts towards resurrecting Crowley. Cas had made a mental note that day: late nights, whiskey, demon hunts and exhausting days always gave Dean the stupidest, most idiotic ideas of all time. 

“Sammy can bring him back,” Dean had said, to which Cas was certain he had put up quite an argument but the fight turned slightly vicious and both Cas and Dean spent the following week shooting daggers at each other. Cas eventually forgot what he had said, but Dean stood by his statement. 

This was the reason why Sam and Dean had been trying to bring back Crowley for several weeks now; trying different spells, different ingredients, different places and hell, one time, different clothes too (if you must know, Dean insisted that they wear a black suit. Yes, it had been a long day and Dean was down two glasses of Whiskey; why do you ask?). Everytime it didn’t work, Dean would spend days on end in his room, eating nothing but stale pizza, watching reruns of The X-Files. Cas was worried it would happen again. 

“Cas? You there, buddy?” Dean pushed Cas back to the present with a small but sturdy tap on his shoulder. “We got him, Cas, we got him.” 

Cas tilted his head in confusion and frowned, then looked at Sam, who nodded in agreement. They all focused on the bowl in front of them as the light grew warmer and brighter, until a figure began materialising from the beam.

Crowley opened his eyes to see himself in a strange place, a place he’d never seen before, nor considered running away to. Three men stood in front of him, tall and very well built, wearing an absurd amount of flannel. Crowley looked to his left to see a blinding light, and for a second, he thought he was in Heaven again, with that purple-eyed monster. 

“Which poor sucker are you wearing as a meatsuit, Crowley?” The man with the scruffy, short, light hair said. 

“Wait, wait, what? Meatsuit? Don’t be stupid--” Crowley sat up straight, looking around frantically, he said, “what the hell did you do with Aziraphale? Where is he?”

“Uh, Dean,” Cas began, clearly suspicious, but Dean cut him off.

“Just hold on to your horses for a second, Cas, let me handle this.”

Cas sighed.

“WHERE IS HE? And, and, did you just say Crowley? Nobody, in all of six thousand years, has ever called me “Cr-ow-ley”.” Crowley spoke angrily, then in exasperation.

“Where’s who?” Sam said, understanding something was definitely off.

“Aziraphale.” Crowley hissed, but it wasn’t an angry hiss, it was more of a habitual, slurring-of-words-hiss.

“Who’s he, your side chick?” Dean joked, but by now he was certain that whoever this person was, it was not Crowley. Sure, he had the accent. And if Crowley had been more focused on looking like an overdramatic sass queen, then maybe the black attire too. But this man, or whatever he was, he was not Crowley.

The blinding light grew brighter still, flashing an almost heavenly glow now, as another figure materialised from the beam.

The figure was more angelic than any form Castiel had seen. Michael could never. Cas could feel the figure’s aura deep inside him, resonating with his own grace, a soft humming of something divine. 

“Oh, my, you seem to have caught us in quite a compromising position,” the heavenly figure said, his voice lilted, and apparently apologetic. 

“You two are holding hands?” Dean spoke before he could stop himself. “If you think that’s compromising, boy do I have news for you.” Dean subsequently made a mental note to never talk again.

“Well I grew impatient and--” Before the figure in all shades of beige could complete his sentence, the man calling himself Crowley jumped to his feet.

“Angel! Where were you?” Crowley had gathered his senses and he was not going to let his angel go anywhere again. “Aziraphale, you gave me quite a fright, you bastard.”

“Wait, can someone explain to me what is happening?” Sam said, his hands raised, angel blade in one and holy water in the other.

“Is that...that’s holy water.” Crowley mellowed down, a frown making its way up his face.

“Now, that isn’t very kind of you, sir. There is absolutely no need to bring in weapons. That would be simply preposterous!” Aziraphale, replied calmly, miracling away the weapons from the tall man’s hands. This seemed to cause a chain reaction, making more weapons surface. Now all three men were clad with some sort of weaponry; very nifty ones too. 

“There is,” Aziraphale began again, more sternly this time, “simply no reason to be feral, dear boys.”

“If you’re wondering, I am Crowley. Crow-ley. I am a demon; didn’t fall, though; sauntered vaguely below. And this is Aziraphale. Now boys, as much as I’d like to stay here and make your lives miserable by, I dunno, replacing all the real bacon with vegetarian bacon, I’d rather wrap this up quickly. We just dealt with an apocalypse and I have the alarm set for a decade of sleeping. And trust me, you don’t want to wait for Aziraphale to start with his magic tricks.” 

Dean made a face at the thought of vegetarian bacon but quickly got over it, concentrating instead on the fact that this was Crowley too. Crow-ley, apparently.

“So, you’re not Fergus? You mother’s not Rowena? God Dammit Sammy, what’d you do?”

Sam looked as confused as everyone right now, but he could’ve sworn he had called Crowley from this universe. Something must’ve gone wrong. 

“Just give us a moment to talk,” Sam said to the angel and the demon, and turned to Cas and Dean.

“And no monkey business,” Dean added, causing Sam to roll his eyes in disappointment again.

“So, my dear, before we go back, don’t you think it would be wonderful if one could, you know, miracle the one with light hair and the one with the trenchcoat together? I would, but it has become a little--” Aziraphale began suggestively, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“What? Angel, they are just friends! Like us,” Crowley replied.

“My dear, we are married,” Aziraphale sighed, deadpanning.

“Wait, we are?! Since when?” Crowley screamed, obviously taken by surprise.

“Since you went to talk to Holmes, quite an interesting chap, about your secret admirer?” 

Crowley shook his head, still confused.

“We got married the next day, Crowley,” Aziraphale sighed again.

Crowley shook his head yet again, much to Aziraphale’s disbelief.

“You proposed!”

Sam coughed, interrupting Aziraphale and Crowley’s very important conversation about if they got married or not.

“So, here’s the thing: we think that while we were trying to contact Crowley of this universe, you, Crowley, from another universe were summoned here instead. This could be because of two things: Chuck is going insane and he no longer has control over the veils between universes, or two, because Jack (he’s a nephilim), is back, his powers might have overwhelmed the spell. We also think that because of your “compromising position”, both of you got summoned, instead of just Crowley. Either way, you are free to go.” 

“Or you could stay for a couple of drinks, if that is okay by you,” Cas said, hoping they’d stay, just so he could get to know them better.

Crowley and Aziraphale exchanged a knowing glance, coming to an agreement.

“It is noon presently; would you have cocoa by any chance?” Aziraphale chimed happily.

_______________________________________________________________________

Hey y’all! I am sure this has been done before but I am currently practicing escapism by writing silly fanfics so please bear with me through this phase.

I’m gonna tag some awesome people: @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @petrichoravellichor @all-or-nothing-baby @telefunkies @jensenackles-ismyreligion @mystybloo @thedepressedexpress

Tell me if you want me to tag you or if you don’t want me to tag you.

Thank you for reading uwu

[goodomensblog]

Forever

Me, calling out like a  vendor at a sports game: I’ve got your angst and fluff here! Aaangst and fluff, anyone? Get your angst and fluff!

Forever

Heaven’s execution chamber was elegant, magnificent - and bare. Polished floors gleamed, immaculate; their cleanliness made it impossible to guess at the atrocities committed upon them. Clean, white walls glared, and a window as large as the room was tall, teased of freedom just out of reach.

At the center of it all, was a chair.

And upon that chair, an angel sat.

Across the cold, stark room - too far from the angel - a demon knelt, bound.

The ropes burned, and Crowley hissed, hunching his shoulders as he turned his head up. The angel, his wrists tied to the chair, met and held his stare.

No, it couldn’t - it wasn’t - this wasn’t right.

Confused and in pain, Crowley called, “Angel, you alright?”

Aziraphale’s light hair appeared white in the harshly lit room, and his face had gone pale; but at Crowley’s call he sat up in the chair, bound hands giving a feeble wave.

“I’m okay, dear.”

His smile was pinched, forceful - the kind of smile meant to convey that everything is okay, when things are, in fact, very much not.

Crowley wiggled, attempting movement - but his knees wouldn’t budge from the floor. Gritting his teeth, he fought to stand - and the ropes constricted, biting and burning, even through his clothes.

Gasping, he folded forward. His forehead smacked cold marble with a crack.

“Crowley!”

The ropes constricted, squeezing - then reluctantly loosened once more.

“Darling, try to be still. Please.”

Grunting, Crowley twisted, looking up. The marble was a cold caress against his cheek. “Wha-”

“It will be okay,” Aziraphale said, perched at the edge of the chair. He’d scooted as far as the restraints would allow. “Please, Crowley. It’s okay. Don’t fight.”

Crowley frowned, head abuzz from the crackling ropes. “Angel, what’re you-”

At the far end of the room, an impossibly large door opened, regal and slow. A gust of cold air followed the new arrivals into the room.

The angels walked as one. With straight backs and unhesitating steps, they observed the room, their chins tilted just slightly up. It made it appear as though they looked down upon everything they saw.

They saw Aziraphale first, paying him a short, swift glance down their noses before settling into a tight line. Only once they were in formation, did they deign to spare an even shorter glance to where Crowley knelt upon the floor.

“Aziraphale,” Gabriel said, his voice booming. “So good to have you back, buddy.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t say I share the sentiment,” was Aziraphale’s stiff answer.

“No, I guess you wouldn’t, would you?” Gabriel said, and he smiled with hard, white teeth.

Pale lips pressing together, Aziraphale turned his head.

“Though,” Gabriel continued, “You do get to have your friend here with you.” And then he was turning toward Crowley, smiling as he extended a hand. “At least, in the end-”

“Gabriel!” Aziraphale snapped, and the ropes binding his wrists twitched and groaned.

Four chins dipped down as the angels glanced sharply at the arms of the chair.

“Let’s just-” Aziraphale said, and gaze softening, looked past the angels - to where Crowley crouched. “-get on with it.”

“Aziraphale.” Heedless of the ropes, Crowley again tried to rise.

Something terrible was about to happen. His instincts screamed it.

Around overwhelming pain, he heard the large doors open. Squinting up from the floor, he watched the black, rotting boots of a demon stroll into the room, trailing a path of filth on the perfect floor.

He held something - a jar - and it was somehow, horribly familiar.

“Wait-” he hissed, struggling.

White boots tapped over the floor. And then Michael was staring emotionlessly down at him.

The demon twisted the cap -

Yellow, crackling hellfire roared into existence.

A hard hand yanked Crowley up. Claw-like nails clutched the back of his neck, forcing him to look into the flames.

Michael bent, pinching his skin between her nails. At his ear, she whispered, voice saccharine and cold, “Hell’s certainly getting more creative with their punishments.”

What?

Unable to turn his head, he stared at her from the corner of his eyes.

“They arranged for us to keep you, just for a little while. Idiot demon,” she tutted, “letting Hell find out what you loved.”

The burning rope was nothing compared to the fear, cold and cruel as ice, which pierced him to his very core.

No.

Aziraphale had risen from the chair.

Crowley fought the ropes. Michael’s grip tightened.

Before the snapping flames, Aziraphale stood, his well-loved vest and coat catching the flickering light. Hands, which desired nothing more than to hold a favored book or a warm cup of tea, clenched resolutely at his sides.

“Aziraphale! Angel!” The hand at the back of his neck clenched, painfully tight.

Aziraphale looked past the flame, and his eyes finally, finally found Crowley’s.

His smile was a small, sad thing when he said, “After, they’ll let you go.”

No, no, no - “no, no, no - Angel! Stop!” Crowley’s heart pounded, and it hurt. It hurt. Twisting he turned desperate eyes on Michael - and then Gabriel and the other angels beyond. “I’ll do anything. Give you anything. What do you want? Tell me what you want, and it’s yours.”

“Oh, this is exactly what we want, demon,” Gabriel said. Eyes bright, he motioned for Aziraphale to move.

“No, wait - please. Please!” Crowley gasped, not entirely sure to whom he begged.

Through the flames, Aziraphale met and held his gaze.

“Don’t-”

For an infinite moment, he was cradled in Aziraphale’s gaze, and he felt impossibly precious; cared for. And then Aziraphale stepped into the flames.

People who are upset scream. Crowley was not upset. He was in agony.

The scream tore it’s way from his lungs, up his throat, crawled out of his mouth and consumed him. His angel was destroyed and Crowley was nothing but noise and pain.

The room heaved and -

Crowley shot up, heaving and panting in the darkness. Sweat drenched hands clawed at bed sheets as he gasped. 

His yellow gaze jumped, anxious, about the room - his room. Looking from the end table, where his phone was glowing with messages (he ignored them), to a shivering plant in the corner, and finally to the open window and the quiet, sleeping city beyond.

Shoulders shaking, he shivered, throwing off the covers and -

Lightning flashed outside the window, blindingly bright. Thunder immediately followed, booming and shaking the foundations of the apartment. On the street below, a car alarm wailed.

Crowley twisted around as his bedroom door flung open.

Jacket wrinkled, as though it had been swiftly thrown on, Aziraphale strode into the room. Celestial energy was snapping and crackling around him - and were his eyes glowing?

“Aziraphale?” Crowley said, and took a single step toward him before jerking back.

The holy energy collecting around the angel burned.

“What’s happened Crowley?” Aziraphale said, bright eyes glancing about the room.

“What?”

Aziraphale’s gaze snapped sharply back to Crowley. “I was having a late night read when I suddenly felt -” he opened and closed his mouth. “I felt you. Or, at least, a flash of feeling. And it was desperation. Fear. Agony.” He swallowed, “I was sure someone had come for you.”

He needn’t specify who.

The idea was a little too near to the events of his dream. 

Weeks ago, they’d successfully pulled off their body swapping stunt. Even so, the fear of Divine - or Hellish retribution lingered.

Crowley shook his head, a sharp jerk. “M’fine angel.”

“What happened?” Aziraphale insisted, taking a step nearer.

Wincing, Crowley hopped back.

The confusion and hurt that flashed across Aziraphale’s face had Crowley lifting his hands.

“Maybe, er - just turn it down a bit, angel? Not that going all glowy isn’t a good look for you. Really compliments your hair. But you’re probably one holy sneeze away from singeing off my hair.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale said, sucking in a breath. “Oh, I didn’t -” he glanced down at his hands frowning. “Didn’t realize…”

Immediately, the crackling ceased. Aziraphale glanced up and the glow had faded.

Crowley took a slow step forward, waving his hand experimentally between them.

“Better?”

“Uh. Yeah,” Crowley said, glancing up. “When’s the last time you went all…” he waved vaguely, “avenging angel?”

Aziraphale reddened. “I’m not one for...fighting. You know that.” Folding his hands over each other, he frowned. “I truly thought I had no choice, however. Crowley, what I felt -” His gaze was sharp and pained. “I was sure you were dying.”

“Felt like I was dying,” Crowley muttered, thinking of angry flames.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale said, sharp.

“Nothing, angel,” he said, and turned to open the window. It was too damn warm-

A gentle grip settled on his arm. “Talk to me, Crowley.”

He was shaking his head, but then Aziraphale added a soft, “please.”

Crowley folded.

“Nightmare,” he sighed.

“What?”

“I said, it was a nightmare,” Crowley repeated, lifting his head. Swallowing, he looked away. “They burned you, angel. Instead of me.” The words tasted like ash on his tongue. “I had to watch.”

“Oh. Oh Crowley.”

He was unprepared for the speed at which Aziraphale struck him.

Arms wrapping solidly around him, Aziraphale squeezed, not letting go, even as they stumbled back onto the bed.

The feel of Aziraphale’s arms around him - the smell of him - the sounds of his breaths, quiet and even, all of it together finally broke him.

Clutching desperately at the angel, he shuddered, shivering in the darkness.

As he shook, Aziraphale gathered him up. Muttering soft words over his head, Aziraphale knelt, sinking into the mattress as they rocked together.

Crowley closed his eyes as gentle hands stroked his hair, then rubbed soothing circles over his back - then went back to his hair. He heaved a shuddering breath.

It was easier, Crowley found, to be honest when the world was dark and the city slept.

“I would die, Angel, to keep a fate like that from befalling you.”

Aziraphale abruptly stilled. The arms around him tightened.

“Don’t go saying silly things,” Aziraphale finally said, only after the silence had turned pressing. “Because I’d do the same for you. And where would that leave us?”

“Dead, I imagine,” Crowley answered and shuddered.

Aziraphale hushed him with a squeeze. “Don’t be morbid.”

Crowley pressed his face into Aziraphale’s vest. “Don’t think I’m ever gonna be able to sleep again. However bad you imagine that dream was, multiply it by ten.”

Aziraphale took a breath, hesitated, then said, “...maybe, I’ll stay with you then. Would that help?”

“Stay?” Crowley frowned, even as his heart skipped a beat at the thought. “You don’t sleep”

“Yes, but I can. When I want to. And it might be interesting, giving regular sleeping a try.” Aziraphale ran his fingers through Crowley’s hair. “Then if you have another one, at least I’ll be here.”

Crowley turned his face up, and the brush of Aziraphale’s vest was soft against his cheek. Pale moonlight caught the angel’s light hair, and it seemed to glow softly atop his head. Aziraphale’s smile was gentle and warm.

Crowley reached up, brushing a knuckle along the side of Aziraphale’s face, and when he whispered, “Angel,” he meant I love you.

Aziraphale brushed a soft hand over Crowley’s forehead, and wiggled, settling more comfortably in the bed.

Crowley closed his eyes, and whispered into the dark. “You’ll really stay?”

“Until the last star has faded from the sky, my dear,” Aziraphale said, and of course meant forever.

[wrinkledparchment]

snake eyes;

Summary: Growing up with one normal, human eye and another as that of a serpent’s as a result of your soulmate, you grew to be self-concious of your eye and hid it from the world. When you’re forced to reveal it, what will happen? 

Word Count: 2,151

A/N: This was NOT meant to be this long but my absolutely-in-love-with-Crowley ass really jumped out and decided to go hard so, uh, yeah. Have fun y’all. 

Warnings: Hella Angst, Blood, Descriptions of Injuries, SOULMATE AU

Taglist:  This is for that one anon and also! @rk900 because Soulmate AU! Crowley makes my heart soft and you wanted me to tag you!! // @obsiidio annabelle i’m love u

you’d already tried to convince yourself it was worth it; it was absolutely not.

they’d call you snake eyes, with no regard for your real name at all. ostracized all your life by everyone, you’d stare into the mirror for no reason at all. one of your eyes was yours, hopefully, and it was quite striking. a beautiful color. 

your eye got no attention at all. your left eye, the one your soulmate harbored, was that of a snake’s.  golden yellow and crested by a fiery, somewhat deeper shade with black slits. they were terrifying, something of a nightmare. 

all your life, you’d wished you could manage to hate the person--or rather, thing--that had cursed you with a snake eye, and you had gotten very close. you’d changed schools numerous times as a youngster, wore sunglasses almost every day, and the only people involved in your life as of now that knew of your snake eye was your parents. 

but now, as you stood in front of your armoire, eyelids puffy and irritated from your crying, you had broken the pair of sunglasses. they laid on your marble countertop--which had a few shards of tinted glass scattered about--in half. 

you wanted to stop hiding, you wanted to find them, and though years ago, you’d wished so only to give them a piece of your mind and scurry off with your normal, human eyes, you understood. 

maybe they were ostracized too, perhaps they weren’t human and having a very obviously human eye caused others to be disappointed, or scared. 

they were your soulmate. even with their serpentine eyes, they were meant for you. and that had to count for something, right?

but god. they were your soulmate, and their serpentine eyes were hellish. they haunted you, around every corner, in every place you walk. that, was the real issue. 

it wasn’t what you thought, or what they thought, or hell, what your parents and friends thought. it was what your soulmate was. 

frightening . . . hellish . . . demonic.

your soulmate wasn’t even a fucking human. 

what if they were a dragon? for all you knew, they could be an alien race and you wouldn’t even meet them, ever. you’d be stuck with this snake eye and it’s consequences for your whole life and you wouldn’t even get to meet them. 

in a moment of confusion, pent-up frustration, and fiery, pure rage, you thrust your fist and straightened your arm just enough to punch and shatter the mirror of your armoire. 

pain seared through your knuckles as fractals of glass dug into your skin and scattered over the marble countertop. you didn’t even flinch, and besides the resounding echo of a crack heard in your bedroom, the only sound was a single drop of crimson landing on one mirror shard. 

you pulled away your hand slowly, careful not to move your feet so you wouldn’t step on a sliver. there was another red stain on the mirror, and not only two seconds after you’d punched it, you regretted it. 

you had smashed the mirror, hard, and you’d need tweezers and a steady hand if you’d actually like to get the splinters out, and even then it’d still be a miracle if you didn’t have dotted scars all over your knuckles. 

you wouldn’t be able to drive, and the nearest urgent clinic was on the other side of the village. there was, however, a hospital that had been burned down about eleven years ago and was partially used as a paintball course, but it would do.

hastily slipping on sandals, you walked with your wallet in your working hand to the hospital. you let your head fall down to the ground, remembering halfway there that you had broken your only pair of sunglasses. 

snake eyes--of course.

you heard machine gunfire, obviously coming from the paintball fight currently going on. being cautious of getting shot with paint (hopefully, it sounded menacingly real), you kept your eyes down before entering the hospital. 

hearing soft voices down a hallway, you followed them, all the while managing to keep your head down and hopefully not bump into anything. “Master Crowley!” you heard Mary speak, and without thought, you lifted your head and called for her. 

“mary?” with a start, she twirled around suddenly and moved slightly to the left, revealing a tall man in dark clothing and sunglasses that looked just like your old, broken pair. 

instantly, it felt like everything in your world clicked. though his face wasn’t quite visible, it was chiseled and he had auburn hair that shone in the light of the partially broken window. the hand you’d been clutching with your other fell to your side, and immediately mary, your old friend, rushed over to you. 

“what happened to your hand, [name]?” she questioned and picked it up to examine, seeing the shards of glass stuck in your skin as blood still trickled out of your open wound. 

“i punched a mirror,” you mumbled, still not taking your eyes off of the man who hadn’t turned away from you. only until a shorter, blonde man cleared his throat did you look away, though you’d gottten lucky, as crowley hadn’t gotten a good look at you yet.

he had a tan coat on, and was a lot less... dark than the other who, based on observation, seemed to be named crowley. quickly, after looking to the other man, you remembered your eye. 

looking back down to your hands, which were being cradled by mary’s, your stomach churned. this was the first time you had been out in public without your sunglasses for some time, and you immediately felt uncomfortable. 

“you punched a mirror?” she repeated, raising her eyes up in attempt to meet your own. obviously, she had a clue why. mary was not completely oblivious, though almost always anxious, so she knew it had something to do with your soulmate’s eyes. 

you refused to meet her gaze, ashamed of what you’d have to show her if you did, so you closed your eyes instead. “that’s what I said; it was just a silly mistake. if you could, can you grab some tweezers and bandages and help me out?” 

mary turned back to ‘master crowley’, still not letting go of your hands, before nodding and walking back to her office, leaving you alone with the two strange men. Open your eyes, you opted to stare at the floor, mumbling a small hello. 

the man in a nicely kept, unwrinkled tan coat stepped forward. “hello [name], i’m aziraphale, and this is crowley. Were you--perhaps, are--a nun of the Order that used to operate here?” 

“i wasn’t, but mary was. it seems you already knew that, though? Uh, sorry for interrupting, i- it’s nothing I just needed mary’s help with something-” you began to stutter, obviously feeling the tension in the air as you brandished your hand and still didn’t raise your head to make eye contact. 

“why in hell would you think it’s a good idea to punch a mirror?” crowley suddenly spoke up, effectively putting a stop to your ramblings. his voice, for some reason, shockingly put you at ease, despite his harsh words. 

“i didn’t, it’s just- i’m very self-conscious about my eye, or rather, my soulmate’s,” you explained as if that wasn’t obvious. there was hum on aziraphale’s end, as if he understood very well. 

“that’s why you won’t look at me, then?” crowley asked, knowing the answer, before you nodded your head dumbly. 

“normally, I wear sunglasses but i broke them this morning,” you explained, again, though they didn’t need to know. before you could stop yourself, you continued with a mumbled: “on purpose.”

mary walked back in quickly, and as an instinctual reaction, you raised your head to look at her, making eye contact. She dropped the whole box of first aid with a loud crash, and you hid your eyes quickly again. “goodness me, [name].”

“now you understand why you’ve never seen me without sunglasses,” you stated, voice falling sadly. The air felt heavy in your lungs, and you turned to leave, just like you’d done every other time someone had seen your eye. 

mary, though, was quicker and had picked back up the First AID kit, and grabbed your hand, yanking you back to her with a harshness you didn’t know she had. “[name], look at me.” 

you turned your head, looking over your shoulder before she took your chin into her hand gently, and turned it towards her. you squeezed your eyes shut, refusing to look at her. “please,” she whispered. 

it was soft, gentle, and friendly, and the two outsiders couldn’t help but watch. aziraphale nearly teared up at the scene, as your eyes suddenly flit open. crowley swallowed down a gasp, because he immediately recognized those eyes. 

because your left eye, the one that was supposed to be your soulmate’s, matched his right; your right eye matched his left, and though he’d made eye contact with you for a millisecond, he had sunglasses on. eyes would only switch back when true, unfiltered eye contact was made. 

you, a girl who had just walked into a paintball facility with a hand of bloodied knuckles, who had just supposedly punched a mirror, was his soulmate. on top of that, he was in the middle of trying to find the antichrist, and, chances are with how many issues you had with your soulmate’s eye, you hated him.

“you’re more than just a set of eyes,” mary murmured, and he saw a single tear slip down your face, before mary could wipe it away. “your eye is something beautiful, [name], and it’s not permanent.”

you nodded, and mary then set down the first aid kit on the windowsill, searching through it before she picked out some tweezers and a disinfectant wipe. crowley, though, decided to step forward. 

his stomach churned, making eye contact with aziraphale, as they both knew what this meant. “mary, I can take care of it,” he stated, plucking the tweezers from her hand and stepping closer to his soulmate. 

before he began though, he took off his sunglasses and his eyes met yours. With an audible gasp, you saw each other, truly saw, before going completely blind as your eyes squeezed shut in pain. 

doubling over, your bloodied hand grasped for his calloused one, squeezing as hard as you could. you saw stars in your shut eyes, showing only an all-black yet somehow colorful vision. There was a resounding silence in the previously burned-down hospital hallway.

crowley opened his eyes, his vision slowly returning normal as he murmured, “darling, you probably shouldn’t be holding my hand, you’ll get the glass deeper into your skin.”

you stood up straight now and opened your eyes. his eye set was now complete with both snake eyes, fiery amber with two black slits. yours, in his vision, were also completed; puffy, red and irritated from crying but still captivating, still starry and wonderous. 

without a warning, crowley looked into your eyes and could infer everything about having a demon’s eye. he was sure that you’d been bullied, that you were insecure, that you’d been through hell and back.

there was a painful, nauseating twist in his gut. guilt. “i’m sorry,” he murmured quietly, breath fanning over your face. your eyes welled up with tears again, and you shook your head. 

“don’t apologize, my dear.” Crowley didn’t look convinced, his eyes, despite being serpentine, held remorse, and sadness. You had never felt something quite like the swelling in your throat at his desperate look, never felt more pained in your life. “There is no need to apologize.”

“I wasn’t even supposed to have a soulmate, I’m a demon, and demons don’t have souls. I shouldn’t have. It’s my fault for wanting a human body.”

“Well, I want a soulmate, and you’re it. You’re the one stuck with me,” you mused, attempting to lighten the mood. Crowley gave a feeble smile in response and you closed your eyes and looked down again. 

“We’ll see about that,” he smirked, suddenly light again too. He picked up your intertwined hands, sliding his own out from under yours as he carefully picked out the glass with his tweezers. 

Through your eyelashes, you looked up at him as his brows furrowed in concentration, and for the first time, you felt wanted. You felt cared for, and your swollen throat suddenly no longer felt so swollen, and the worries of tomorrow, your twisted gut, even the pain in your bloodied knuckles floated away. 

Crowley, a man you’d just met, your soulmate, hadn’t made you fall in love with him yet. You barely knew him still, but you felt comforted and safe. Crowley, you decided, would be stuck with you. 

Even his frightening, serpentine eyes held love, and you knew that yours did too.

[massivelycreepypineapple]

Not Fair!

Crowley x Fem!reader

Summary: On her periods and quite emotional, Y/N is angry that her stupid demon is so much taller than her. A/N: Just some random fluff that I thought of.

Y/N was lying on the couch at her boyfriend Crowley’s place. She was rather grumpy that evening and nothing from earth could cheer her up. And the reason for her foul mood was that snakey, tall bastard whistling away in the kitchen as if everything was alright with the world. Oh and not to mention, it was her time of the month.

Of course, nothing was right! How could it be?! Here Y/N was bleeding from where the sun don’t shine thanks to her uterus, who refused to understand that she needed to be rewarded for not getting pregnant, thank you very much! While Crowley, that damn demon existed with his stupid height! Why did she have to be so damn short? She closed her eyes and groaned into the pillow. Her mind wandered back to all the times Crowley would sneak a kiss in and take her by surprise. He could do that whenever he wanted but she, on the other hand, could only surprise him when they were seated or cuddled up in bed. She wanted to grab his face and snog him senseless when they were outside. Show the damn world he was hers!

She pulled herself off the couch and made her way into the kitchen to glare daggers at him. She stood at the doorway and glared at the back of his head. She watched him turn around and his eyes widen for a second.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” He asked, confused and worried.

She didn’t answer right away. She was too mad and too much in pain to give a proper reply. So instead she walked up to him, getting more annoyed at the height difference and stood in front of him. He immediately wrapped his arms around her waist waiting for her to answer when suddenly Y/N began to sniffle as tears ran down her cheeks.

“Shh… Don’t cry, love. Whatever it is, we can fix it. You just have to talk to me.” He cooed at her. After 5 years of being with her, he knew what she needed when she got this way. Aziraphale always teased him for getting soft. But it was only with her he’d let himself be affectionate. He was a demon from hell after all.

“It’s not fair!” She said after a minute

“What’s not?”

“You!”

“Why am I not fair?” He asked eyebrows scrunched.

“I’m too damn short!”

“How does that make me unfair?” He mumbled, raising his eyebrows

“Shutup, you know what I mean”

She heard him sigh before he replied “Y/N there’s nothing wrong with your height. In fact, I love that you’re short. I think it’s adorable.”

She pushed her face into his chest, embarrassed at what she was gonna say. He felt her mumble something.

“What’s that, love?” He asked slightly amused.

“I can’t kiss you whenever I want.” She said again.

Crowley was silent. He did not know how to respond to that. As the taller one, he did have the liberty of kissing her when he liked. He never thought of it from her perspective.

“See! Even you don’t have a solution to that!” She said as more tears came down.

He held her face and wiped the tears with his thumbs and kissed her on her lips.

“I love that you fit into me so perfectly. So what if you can’t kiss me by surprise. You surprise me all the time with your quirks, your wit and your pranks.” He rolled his eyes at the last one, making her laugh a little through her tears. “Besides, you’re definitely bigger on the inside!” He grinned at her, proud of his reference. He knew how much she loved Doctor Who.

Y/N laughed at that, feeling slightly better. But winced at the sudden cramp in her stomach. Crowley carried her out of the kitchen to get comfortable on the couch with her in his lap. She noticed she does fit quite perfectly into him. Maybe she could make her peace with her height as long as he held her this way. 

[lady-divine-writes]

Confession (Rated PG13)

(Written for the anon prompt ‘You’re frightening me!’)

Knock-knock-knock

“A-zira-phale?”

Sitting at his desk, catching up with the newspaper, Aziraphale peers over his shoulder in the direction of the door.

“Crowley?” he murmurs but he doesn’t get up. No need. If he waits a moment, the locked door will swing open and the demon will let himself inside.

Or it should.

It doesn’t, and the knocking continues.

Knock-knock-knock

“A-zira-phale?” the voice sings through the bolted wood. “Are you in? Are you there? Can you answer the door, please?”

Aziraphale pulls a face, glaring at the locks, silently scolding them for not turning. ‘Why doesn’t he just open the damned door? It’s not that hard. A snap of the fingers will do it.’

Knock-knock-knock

“A---aziraphale? Please? Open the door?”

Aziraphale pushes back from his desk and starts towards the door. “Crowley? What on Earth is wrong with you?”

‘But is it really him?’ a voice inside Aziraphale’s head chimes in. It sounds like him, but not like him, and that makes Aziraphale anxious. He slows his steps but still keeps on despite the warning bells sounding in his brain, summoned by Crowley’s haunting knock and his voice thick with confusion. No, it doesn’t sound like him. Doesn’t sound like him at all. But it feels like him, which is to say Aziraphale senses an aura on the opposite side of the door that supernatural entities possess. This one feels evil, but in a familiar way, so it should be Crowley. If it is him, why doesn’t he miracle his way in like normal? Aziraphale can’t recall the last time Crowley actually knocked on his locked door. It doesn’t make sense for him to be hanging out on Aziraphale’s doorstep, knocking ominously and begging for Aziraphale to let him in - even if he’s drunk, as Aziraphale suspects.

Unless this is a ruse.

That gives Aziraphale a moment’s pause.

If it is, it would explain so much, like why he hasn’t heard from Crowley all day.

Crowley told Aziraphale that he believed Heaven and Hell would only leave them be for a bit, and ever since, Aziraphale has been on edge, waiting for either side to spring a trap. This could definitely be one – Gabriel or Beelzebub ready to whisk him away and force him to face judgment again.

They could be planning to use him as bait to get to Crowley. Or maybe the reverse is true. Maybe they already have Crowley and this is them using him as their puppet to lure Aziraphale out.

The thought hurries Aziraphale’s steps.

Knock-knock-knock

“Aziraphale.”

Knock-knock-knock

“Aziraphale.”

Knock-knock-knock

“Azira---?“

In a knee-jerk decision, Aziraphale opts to miracle the door open before he gets there in case it isn’t Crowley. If it’s not Crowley, he can miracle the offender away without risk of capture.

But no.

After five straight minutes of mounting terror, the doors swing open and there’s Crowley, ten thousand sheets to the wind. Leaning his full weight against the door, he falls forward onto his hands and knees at the angel’s feet, glasses flying off his nose, thoroughly confused when he comes face to face with Aziraphale’s shoes.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale snaps, crouching down to help him up. “What are you doing!?”

“Oh, there you are!” Crowley smiles, loopy and bright, but his wet cheeks and red-rimmed eyes hint that he’s been crying. “Hello, Aziraphale!”

“Did you drive here like this!?”

“Nah. I walked.”

Aziraphale helps Crowley find his feet, but he immediately topples over again, knocking into a counter and sliding a stack of vintage hardcovers to the floor.

“I find that difficult to believe,” Aziraphale mutters, locking up again with a wave of his hand. “But why walk here? Drunk, of all things!?”

“I needed the fresh air.”

Aziraphale slips underneath Crowley’s arm to shoulder his weight and helps him limp to the back room. “But why?”

“I’ve been thinking.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“There’s something I need.” He nods at Aziraphale in thanks when the angel sets him down on the couch. “Something I’m hoping you can help me with.”

“And what’s that, my dear?”

Crowley slumps forward, hands folded between his knees, looking up at Aziraphale with pleading, yellow eyes.

“I want you to take a confession from me.”

It would be a gross understatement to say that Aziraphale is startled by those words. Out of Crowley’s mouth, they shake him to his core. “I … I don’t think I should.”

“Why?” Crowley sneers. “Because I’m a demon?”

“No, because I’m not a priest!”

“You’re an angel!”

“True, but I’m not sure that makes me qualified!” It’s a bizarre explanation, but it’s honest. Aziraphale doesn’t know how that works. Technically, he should be able to do it. He’s a representative of the Almighty. But the rules about things like confession and Eucharist and ceremonial rites don’t belong to angels. They belong to mortals. “Besides, what have you done that you feel the need to atone for?”

“I … I’ve been keeping secrets from you. Big secrets.”

“That’s not a sin.”

“But it feels like it. It really, really does.”

“Well, what kind of secrets are they? Have you killed anyone?”

“No.”

“Maimed?”

“No.”

“Have you stolen something?”

“No.”

“Kidnapped anymore children?”

“No.”

“Coveted something?”

“Nngh … ye---I …” Crowley closes his mouth and swallows. “You know what? I might be a little too drunk for this. Maybe I should sober up first.”

“Always a good idea.” Aziraphale puts out an empty wine bottle for Crowley to use lest he get alcohol all over the floor. “How much did you drink anyway?”

“A bottle of wine … or four,” Crowley admits.

“A-ha …” Aziraphale casually fetches another empty wine bottle and puts it beside the first, just in case.

Crowley focuses on the tall, green bottle – focuses on filling it – when something Aziraphale does captures his attention. He watches the angel take a matchbook out of his pocket. He opens it, plucks out a single match, and strikes it, preparing to light the candles standing in antique brass holders on the table, precariously positioned alongside stacks of more books, random papers, old clippings and the like. Flashes of fire fill Crowley’s memory – heat so vivid it sears his lungs, black smoke clogging his sinuses. He remembers it like it was yesterday - the walls of Aziraphale’s shop buckling from the heat, the ceiling crumbling over his head, the gramophone grinding out its last, playing a warped, morbid requiem to, of everything, his and Aziraphale’s friendship.

And the paper, like hundreds of tiny insects curling into ash and fluttering around him, setting everything they touched ablaze. That’s how the fire spread – all the damned paper in this place fueling the flames.

And Aziraphale is about to do it all again.

“No. Don’t do that,” Crowley mumbles, getting unsteadily up off the couch. When Aziraphale doesn’t seem to hear, he grabs the match in his bare hand, crushing the flame in his palm. “Don’t do that!”

Aziraphale stares at Crowley’s hand clutching the smoking remains of the match. “What’s wrong with you, Crowley!? What’s going on!? Talk to me! You’re not making sense!”

“I’m not making sense!? You’re the one wat keeps eight dozen candles in a rundown old store filled with books!”

“What are you going on about!? I don’t understand!” Aziraphale takes a step back. His momentum pulls Crowley forward and the demon loses his footing, tripping and falling to the floor. Reaching out for something to support himself, he wraps his arms around Aziraphale’s waist and hugs him tight. But even though he feels Aziraphale, he doesn’t see Aziraphale.

He sees fire.

“Where are you?” Crowley’s eyes look everywhere – left, right, straight at Aziraphale – but he can’t see him. “Are you ‘ere?”

“What do you mean am I here!? You’ve got your arms wrapped around me, you idiot!”

“No. No, I’ve done this before, and I’ve woken up hugging my pillow, and you’d gone. You’d gone, and … when you leave, there’s nothing to hold on to. No you. I need to know …” He starts fumbling with Aziraphale’s clothes, tugging at the buttons to his waistcoat and pulling up his shirt.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale gasps, but he doesn’t fight him off. “What are you doing?”

“I need to find you!”

“I’m right here, dear boy. Please, stop! I don’t … I don’t know what you’re doing … what you’re searching for! Crowley, you’re … you’re frightening me!”

Like a slap to the face, that makes Crowley stop, makes him roll back on his heels and rise to his feet.

“I’m … I’m sorry. I …” Crowley shakes his head, concentrates harder on sobering up, pushing the alcohol out of his system. His vision starts to clear. Through the smoke and the flames in his memory he can make out glimpses of Aziraphale’s face, but he’s not the calm, ethereal specter from the pub. He’s breathing hard, wide-eyed with concern, and possibly fear, staring at Crowley as if he’s gone mad.

And he’s probably correct.

“I didn’t mean to … I … I’ll go …”

“No!” Aziraphale says. “No, wait! Don’t leave!”

“You said I … I frightened you.”

“I may have misspoke. You caught me off guard. I’m trying my best to understand what’s going on. I didn’t think you were going to hurt me. That’s not what I meant. I’m scared for you, Crowley.”

“I’ll … I’ll be all right. I just have to …” He puts a hand to his pounding temple, pinches his eyes shut, sobers up a sliver more. “I should go.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” Aziraphale grabs him by the shoulder, gently but firmly. “Not at this hour, not in this state.”

“I’ll sober up. I won’t hurt anyone.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Aziraphale sighs. After 6000 years, how come it’s still so difficult to talk to one another? “Come … come here, Crowley. Settle down a moment. We’ll sort things out. I just need a minute to think.”

Crowley acquiesces but he doesn’t sit on the sofa. He sinks back to the floor on his knees, as if sitting might require too much effort. Aziraphale’s sympathetic blue eyes examine every line on his exhausted face. This happens on and off lately, Crowley suffering from nightmares that bring him, in various degrees of drunkenness, to Aziraphale’s door. Nothing to this extent has happened before, but Aziraphale figured it was a matter of time.

Crowley needs help. What’s going on inside his head, he doesn’t open up about, and he’s not handling it well. Aziraphale knows it has something to do with the fire in his bookshop, but that’s as far as he’s gotten Crowley to divulge. Aziraphale also knows that Crowley’s demonic power is linked quite closely to his imagination, ergo he must fear that if he talks about it – talks about the fear he felt, the overwhelming loss, the pain it left in him - he’ll speak it into existence. The fire will have been real, Aziraphale will be gone, and there won’t be any way of getting him back.

Crowley is stuck, and Aziraphale needs to come up with a way to lead him out of the dark.

Aziraphale starts straightening his wrinkled waistcoat, but a moment later, he unbuttons it. He removes his bowtie and slips it safely into his pocket. Then he opens his shirt one button past half way, all under the watchful and curious eyes of his demon. Aziraphale slides off the sofa onto his knees. He puts a hand on Crowley’s shoulder and pulls, brings the demon’s head to his chest, positioning his ear over his heart, the echo of what shouldn’t be there beating steady and strong against his ear.

But Crowley hears it because both angel and demon imagine it to be so.

“Here I am,” Aziraphale whispers, running his fingers through Crowley’s hair. “I’m right here. I haven’t gone. And I haven’t left you.”

The warmth of his skin, a beating heart, the rhythmic ebb and flow of his breathing – they’re real as long as Crowley has faith.

Faith in Aziraphale.

And Crowley falls apart.

“I … I th-thought you’d gone!” he stutters, winding his arms around Aziraphale’s torso and hugging him hard. “I th-thought you’d gone for good! You left me here alone! And I … I didn’t know how to bring you back! I didn’t know what to do without you!”

“There, there, dearest.” Aziraphale wraps his arms around Crowley’s shoulders and rocks him. “It’s all right. I’m here. I promise. I don’t plan on going anywhere.”