#they have their moments though! bella does sometimes call him out on his behaviour (when she doesnt think it's flattering)

[sprolden]

rereading twilight and nostalgia is making it an enjoyable experience overall but honestly i was not ready for how genuinely horrible and terrifying edward is. some of this is straight out of a horror movie

[our-smooty]

Flowerbeds and Fertile Soil: Chapter 1

Fandom: Good Omens

Rating: Explicit

Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens, )Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer

Tags:  Kidfic, Mpreg kind of, they can choose to present however so idk, Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley Has A Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has A Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has A Vulva (Good Omens), OCs galor, parenting, using your snake form to avoid confrontation, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Pregnancy, if I missed a tag lemme know

Summary: They could do anything, go anywhere, all without the worry of Above or Bellow making a fuss. Even so, they mostly kept to their little patch of Eden, their cottage and garden and the simple life they’d carved out among the locals. Aziraphale opened a book shop in town, where he only occasionally sold any books (and the ones he did sell, were all modern and stocked specifically for that purpose). Crowley focused his attentions on the garden, and if he occasionally helped their elderly neighbour with her disobedient willow tree, then that was a secret no one needed to know. 

Lately, however, they had both been feeling rather restless, unbeknownst to each other. Aziraphale tried reorganizing his store, changing the way he tied his bowtie and even ate pizza --something he considered to be far too messy for him personally. Crowley had branched out into birdwatching, and then car maintenance (the human way), and even reading. Nothing scratched the itch for either of them. 

Ao3 Link

My Ko-Fi

Ten years. A cottage. The South Downs. Innumerable soft mornings in bed and long, exciting nights. Wine under their own apple tree, carefully cultivated to provide optimal shade during summer afternoons. Ten years of the rest of their lives. For Aziraphale and Crowley the time after the End that Wasn’t was nothing short of blissful perfection.

They could do anything, go anywhere, all without the worry of Above or Bellow making a fuss. Even so, they mostly kept to their little patch of Eden, their cottage and garden and the simple life they’d carved out among the locals. Aziraphale opened a book shop in town, where he only occasionally sold any books (and the ones he did sell, were all modern and stocked specifically for that purpose). Crowley focused his attentions on the garden, and if he occasionally helped their elderly neighbour with her disobedient willow tree, then that was a secret no one needed to know.

Lately, however, they had both been feeling rather restless, unbeknownst to each other. Aziraphale tried reorganizing his store, changing the way he tied his bowtie and even ate pizza--something he considered to be far too messy for him personally. Crowley had branched out into birdwatching, and then car maintenance (the human way), and even reading. Nothing scratched the itch for either of them.

It wasn’t until they visited Tadfield, for Anathema’s baby shower, that it occurred to either of them. They’d been to the others, of course, both ethereal entities were prominently featured in the other two Device-Pulcifer children. Little Charlotte and Annabella looked forward to seeing their uncles for monthly gatherings. And the third child, yet to be named, was likely to feel the same about the two.

“It’s only 2 more months now,” Anathema said, lounging in a comfortable chair in her and Newt’s back garden. She was surrounded by friends and family, including the Them, Shadwell and Madame Tracy, and Crowley. Aziraphale was over by the pot-luck table, making him and the demon plates of food. Crowley nodded along to the conversation, not participating much himself.

“You must be ready for it to be over,” Madame Tracy said sympathetically, filling up the witch’s glass with more. Anathema nodded enthusiastically--after 2 kids you stop pretending to love every moment of pregnancy.

“Definitely. They’ve been kicking me in the spine for ages!”

“Have you tried telling them off?” Crowley asked casually, sipping his own drink (lemonade spiked with a little something from his flask. “Can never start too early with that kind of thing you know.”

Anathema looked surprised, though not significantly, which was in opposition to Newt's shocked expression. Madame Tracy rolled her eyes and tutted disapprovingly.

“Weren’t you a Nanny?” Pepper asked, eyeing Crowley suspiciously. “Good Nannies don’t go around shouting at babies.”

“No one said anything about shouting,” Crowley drawled, sitting up a little straighter. “It’s all about balance. Set some boundaries, let them know they can’t get away with anything too mischievous.”

“I thought mischief was your thing?” Adam asked. Crowley made a kind of a wiggle motion with his palm and wrinkled his nose.

“Trust me, kid. There’s mischief and then there’s a 4-year-old who doesn’t know the meaning of ‘no’.”

“Oh are we talking about our mutual ward?” Aziraphale chimed in cheerfully, setting down the plates he’d made up. Crowley murmured his thanks and reached for a strawberry. “We did our best but he turned out quite beastly in the end.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “You’re making it sound like he’s a murderer. He turned OK, better than his father at least.”

“You do have a point there.” The rest of the party-goers at the table all had variously dubious looks on their faces as if they were all thinking ‘who allowed these two to raise a child?’.

“Have you two raised many children together then?” Madame Tracy asked pleasantly. Crowley and Aziraphale both shook their heads a little sadly. “Oh whyever not? You both seem to love kids.”

“Well, it isn’t the done thing you know. An angel and a demon?” Aziraphale answered glumly. Next to him, Crowley shifted in his seat. “Warlock was the exception because both Heaven and Hell thought he was the antichrist.”

“But you don’t work for them anymore!” Adam pointed out, tucking his hands under his thighs and rocking excitedly. “You could do whatever you want!”

Something like dawning realization began to grow on both men’s faces. They could, in fact, do whatever they pleased without worrying about the repercussions from their former head offices. Though the idea of a child might be pushing it.

“You know I never really thought about it like that, thank you, dear boy,” Aziraphale, always better with words in the heat of the moment, said. Crowley sat wordlessly, gaping like a fish out of water. From the far side of the table, Anathema whispered something in Newt’s ear and they both chuckled.

“Yes, well,” Crowley blustered, suddenly standing. “More lemonade?” No one answered but he stalked off anyway. No one mentioned the fact that he was going to the exact opposite way of the refreshment table either.

Aziraphale watched him go with a bemused expression, though he didn’t seem worried. Instead, he turned back to Anathema and began asking her about baby names. The Them quickly got bored with the baby talk and wandered towards the empty bit at the back of the yard to play football. Madame Tracy and Shadwell were off in their own little world, looking at each other with disgustingly moony eyes. Crowley nearly gagged just from being in proximity to such mushy behaviour. As it was he was currently taking refuge back behind the hedgerow, growling at Newt’s freshly planted petunias.

After they were sufficiently chastized and looking marvellous, Crowley decided he had calmed down enough to actually brave the drinks table. There was an entire pitcher of lemonade left, still damp with condensation from the refrigerator, and it was practically calling to him. He made himself a cup and stealthily spiked it. He was just about to take a sip when he felt small hands tugging at the edge of his jacket.

“Uncle Crowley,” a tiny voice said, “can I have a sip?”

Crowley looked down, already knowing exactly what he would see. Little Lottie, with her dark brown eyes and mane of untameable brown hair stared back at him, then eyed his drink. Behind her, Bella peered up at him, always the shy one.

“Eh, not this one. I’ll make you both your own special ones, how does that sound?” With a quick miracle, he procured two plastic cups with curly straws, dangling them in front of the girls. Bella's eyes lit up but Lottie held strong.

“No ice cubes!” she declared, stamping her foot. Crowley hid his proud smile behind a small cough.

“No, no ice cubes. Just pure, sugar water for you and your sister,” he said, filling both glasses up and handing them over, but not before using a demonic miracle to replace the sugar with a healthier alternative. He crouched down to their level to whisper, “Have you two been behaving for your mum and dad?”

Bella nodded, too busy drinking and splashing lemonade all over herself. Lottie lifted her chin proudly.

“Sometimes! Jus’ like you and Uncle Aziraphale said!” She’s only recently gotten the hand of the angel’s fully name, and took every opportunity to show off. Annabella was still getting the hang of it.

“Uncle Azi says to always be nice to the other girls at school, even if they say mean things!” she exclaimed loudly, a sticky smile lighting up her face. At least her hair was short enough that it was mostly saved. Crowley didn’t want Anathema to truly despise him.

“And?”

“And you said to put gum in their hair when the teacher isn’t looking!”

“Good girl. Now go sit at the table with your lemonade. And don’t let your mom see you with it!” He added that last bit just to see the devious look on Lottie’s face as she and her sister scampered off. Somebody, he loved those kids, even if they were half Newton. He liked most children, actually, though those two little girls had definitely run off with his cold, dead heart.

“There you are, Crowley!” Crowley tried to hide his slight jump of surprise with a cough. Even though he knew that Azirapahel knew that neither of them had ever needed to cough in the entire history of the world. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“S’not like I went far angel,” Crowley replied, straightening his knees and then his spine with far too much crackling. “What’d you want?”

Aziraphale was immediately fussing with the demon’s collar and suit jacket, making sure it sat right. “Well, I thought as it’s getting rather late and we have a little bit of a drive ahead of us it might be time for us to toddle.”

“Toddle?” Crowley asked, wrinkling his nose with distaste.

“If you prefer I could say we should get a wiggle o--” Immediately Crowley was stalking past the angel and back to the rest of the party-goers, effectively cutting him off.

“No I do not prefer ‘wiggle on’! Somebodies' sake where do you keep getting these awful sayings from?” He knew the angel was following behind him with a silly grin on his face.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about dear. Are you getting into one of your moods again?” Damn him, the bastard knew exactly how to rile Crowley up.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about dear,” Crowley mocked, hunching his shoulders even more. “Let’s just get the goodbyes over with so we can go.”

It took far too long, for Crowley’s tastes, to actually leave. He let Azirapahel do most of the talking and hugging, though he spared a moment to cuddle Lottie and Bella when they started to beg. Their tiny little arms wrapped around his shoulders as he hoisted them up, slinging them side to side just to hear their delighted shrieks. The first few times he’d done this Newt and Anathema had not been pleased, but Aziraphale had reminded them they were both ethereal beings with the ability to change reality, and the parents had decided to allow it after that.

“Goodbye, little ones,” Aziraphale said, giving each of the girls a hug. Crowley knew first-hand how good Aziraphale’s hugs were and made a mental note to get a few of his own when they got home.

“Not little anymore Uncle Aziraphale!” Lottie shouted, taking advantage of her ‘outside voice’. Annabella giggled at the nickname, more than happy to be the angel’s little girl.

“No, no, I suppose not Charlotte. You’re nearly all grown up aren’t you?” he answered with an indulgent smile. The little girl wiggled with delight, and also with the need to be let go so she could go off and get into some sort of mischief. “Go on, have a good day you two.”

Final goodbyes were said and then they were in the Bently, trundling down the road. Crowley had agreed to drive at a more decent pace within the towns and cities sometime after Lottie had been born. The demon claimed he enjoyed driving slowly to annoy the other drivers, but Aziraphale had a suspicion that it had to do with having mortal attachments and realizing the dangers little children could get into near roadways. Outside on the country roads they took to get back to the South Downs he made up for it though, gunning down them with double the enthusiasm. Aziraphale considered this enough of a compromise.

“Lovely party,” the angel remarked loudly over the roar of the Bently’s engine. Crowley nodded but didn’t take his eyes off the road. He was hoping to beat her personal speed record from Tadfield to the cottage. “The girls are growing up so fast!”

Another noncommittal noise as Crowley overtook a car, getting dangerously close to the side door to hiss a little bit. The other driver blanched and decided to pull over at the next rest stop for a bracing cup of coffee.

“You’re quite good with them!” Aziraphale continued on, undeterred by Crowley’s distraction. “If fact, I’d say you have a soft spot for children, my dear. First warlock, then Adam, now the girls.”

That did get Crowley’s attention, though he made sure not to show it. Really he’d always loved children. There had been the kids he snuck onto the arc, just a few, those he could grab and hide from the floodwaters. And others throughout the years, war orphans and kids alone in the world for whatever horrible reason. He gave food to beggars and donates some of his exorbitant--and useless--wealth to orphanages and programs to help children (all spun in some nonsensical way to please Hell, of course). He’d adored being Warlock’s nanny (which is why, even though he is a demon, he couldn’t be the one to pull the trigger on either him or Adam). But caring about kids wasn't cool, wasn’t demon-like, so he’d kept it quiet. Trust Aziraphale to see right through that.

“So?” Keep it short, simple. Let Aziraphale do the talking, he obviously had a point to make, rambling on as he was doing.

“So… I was thinking…”

“Spit it out angel!” Crowley snapped, taking a very sharp left turn into oncoming traffic. Aziraphale knew it wasn’t meant in a nasty way though, he had over six millennia of experience speaking ‘irritable demon’.

“I’ve been thinking, it would be nice to have that,” Aziraphale stuttered out, staring straight ahead at the road.

“Have what?”

“Oh, you know what I mean! Why are you being so difficult, Crowley?”

“I’m not! I don’t understand half the babble that comes out of your mouth angel and you expect me to when I’m dri--”

“Doyouwanttohavechildren?” Aziraphale asked all in one breath, refusing to look over at Crowley. Crowley jerked violently, nearly driving them into the ditch. A quick miracle prevented their untimely discorporations and the Bently rolled to a stop on the side of the road.

“What?” he asked incredulously jaw hanging open.

“Children!” Aziraphale squeaked, his hands flying up and fidgeting with his collar and bowtie. “I-I’ve become very fond of our Goddaughters and I was thinking--”

“And how exactly--” Crowley’s tone was venomous, though he didn’t know exactly why, “do you suggest we procure these children? Forge up some adoption papers for some human baby?”

“Oh Heavens no!” Aziraphale tittered. “Humans, well they have such a short life span. Though I wouldn’t be opposed, if that’s what you wanted to do. I was thinking more along the lines of the old fashioned way?”

“Know many women looking to have little angel babies or hellspawn then Aziraphale?” Crowley mocked. Honestly, he was being a bit of a prick and he knew it. This wasn’t the type of thing you just brought up on a casual Sunday drive home from a casual social arrangement! It was the type of thing you thing to be spoken about after a few good rounds of fucking, in that warm safe afterglow surrounded by your lover. It was supposed to be a big thing right? Humans made it a big thing. And what about the fact that apparently Aziraphale wanted to… with some human woman? Or that Crowley would have to… eugh.

“Of course not! There was quite enough of that with the Nephilim. No, I was hoping, one of us could do it.”

Crowley was nearly bowled over with shock. As it was his white-knuckle grip was nearly bending the steering wheel. For some reason his mind was supplying images of little blond-haired, pudgy baby angels scampering around their cottage, chased by redheaded little devils. The tiny pitter-patter of their feet, then laughter like bells. The look on one of the children from the Arc’s face when he’d had to explain what happened to their parents. A tiny grave outside a workhouse, mourned by only him and no one else.

“Absolutely not.” The world wasn’t a place for children, Crowley knew that for certain. Nevermind the idea of having one of his own to take care of to be responsible for. It’d been different with the others, temporary and always ‘part of the job’. Having one would be different. Scary.

“Oh.” Aziraphale’s voice was tiny and feather-light in the quiet of the idling Bently. It was the same tone of voice he made when all the crepes were gone, but significantly sadder. It made Crowley feel terrible, like he really was worthy of his Fall.

“What brought this on, angel?” he asked, trying to find a way out that didn’t break Aziraphale’s heart more. “You’ve never even mentioned kids before this. Didn’t think you really liked them, Warlock and the girls aside.”

“No, no, I do like them. Not near the books, mind, but they’re nice enough. They have such good imaginations.” Aziraphale spoke like someone trying very, very hard to give off the impression they were fine. He’d moved on to crumpling and straightening his bowtie repeatedly.

“Nice enough you decided to blindside me with this on the drive home?” Should he turn the car off for this? Another glance at his angel, so clearly distressed, then back at his own shaking hand on the keys convinced him. The silence was even more oppressive without the Bently’s purr.

Aziraphale worried his hands harder and Crowley made a mental note to take the angel out to get his weekly manicure a little earlier. “I didn’t think you’d react like this.”

“And how, exactly, did you think I’d act? This world is fucked up Aziraphale, not to mention what Heaven and Hell would do if we made a bunch of half and half sprogs?” How was Aziraphale not seeing how impossible what he was asking was?  

Finally Aziraphale looked over at him. His grey-blue eyes were soft and sad. It made Crowley want to look away, and he briefly did behind his glasses.

“I--I hadn’t thought about what our previous sides might think, to be perfectly honest,” he admitted, sounding a little embarrassed. “I got caught up in--well, it seems I haven’t thought this through. Forget I said anything, my dear.”

There was the out Crowley had been looking for, a good reason to start the Bently back up and continue on their way. Maybe he could spend the rest of the afternoon in his garden, ripping weeds out of the ground with great fervour. Not that his garden had weeds, but the roses had been slacking so they’d make do.

But he could just leave things as they were now, with Aziraphale looking so crushed. “What were you thinking then? Why now?”

A light blush spread over the angel’s cheeks as he glanced away again. “Oh well, I was only talking to Anathema about the girls, and the new little one coming soon and it sounds so… nice. She and Newt have been very happy and I’ve loved watching the girls get older and learn new things. Then I thought of us doing the same with our own little family and, well I guess I got a bit carried away.”

Carried away was right. The happiness that the Device-Pulcifer family had was not for them, couldn’t be for them. It wouldn't be safe or fair to bring children made of both of them into this world. Not when Heaven and Hell would just want them destroyed.

“We can’t, angel,” Crowley said quietly, letting his hands fall into his lap. “Even if we wanted to you know our ex-sides wouldn’t stand for it. They’ve been leaving us alone but you damn-well know they’d come back if there were kids.”

“So, you do want them? W-with me I mean?” Trust Aziraphale to ignore all the practical bit and cling to that. Crowley shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Angel…” he said warningly, a bit of a growl to his voice. Aziraphale kept going.

“Crowley please, I don’t understand why you’re so against this! You love Charlotte and Annabella, I’ve seen it!”

“Of course I love them!” Crowley said, exasperated. “But we can’t have that. Even if we want to, we can’t. It isn’t safe.”

Another ringing silence where Crowley expected Aziraphale to sigh, then ask him to continue driving. Once home the angel would head back to his reading room with a cup of cocoa and not speak to Crowly for a few hours. Later they’d makeup and it’d be over and done with. But it wouldn’t, not really. No something this important was going to be shoved under the rug, they’d learned their lesson from 6000 of pining.

“I think you are being a coward, Crowley,” Aziraphale said quietly but firmly. “I have never known you to fear Heaven of Hell, not even once. This isn’t about them this is about us.”

Crowley seethed, his lips pulled back in a snarl. “You always see the bright side, you’re never realistic! What happens if we do that then, what happens when Heaven and Hell come and there’s nothing we can do to stop them from taking them away and--”

“Crowley!” Aziraphale cried all pretenses at a hard exterior dropped. “My dearest, you have been thinking about this.”

“We both know Heaven is bad, cold and fucking beurocratic. A bad place for kids. And Hell, they’d be better off dead than in Hell angel make no mistake about that. I can’t--” Crowley took a shuddering breath, staring at Aziraphale, hoping to make him see, “I can’t bring them into the world only for them to be poked and prodded and tortured. I can’t be that cruel. I won’t.”

“But we made sure they won’t be coming after us for a long time, maybe never even. Surely the fact that we’ve been together a decade and not hear so much as a peep means we’re off the hook,” Aziraphale argued. It made Crowley’s blood boil, how naive Aziraphale could be sometimes. How he still, after all this time, believed Heaven and Hell would keep their word.

“There’s no proof of that. And I might like to live life in the fast lane but not if it means getting kids hurt.” Aziraphale went to open his mouth but Crowley continued. “You know 10 years is a blink of the eye for us, and even more so for Above and Below. Talk to me in a millennia angel.”

“But you do want them. You just don’t think it’s safe right now?” Aziraphale looked hopeful again and Crowley didn’t have it in him to crush him a third time.

“Yeah, yeah I guess. But we can’t.” He tried to put emphasis on that last big but Aziraphale was already learning over, placing his hand on Crowley’s shoulder and squeezing.

“Thank you, Crowley. I’m very sorry for calling you a coward, among the other things I said.”

This all felt a little easy to Crowley, but by that point, he was desperate for anything to end it. It gave him an out without having to resolutely say no, something he found almost impossible when it came to Aziraphale. Let him hope that they’d have another 1000 years undisturbed.

“Whatever, angel. Can we finish our drive in peace?” Aziraphale nodded, smiling slightly though his posture was still a little uncomfortable. Crowley shifted the Bently back into gear and felt the warm eat of Aziraphale’s hand rest over his. Even though he was still a little ticked off Crowley allowed it, relieved to know Aziraphale wasn’t actually angry with him for saying no.

“Of course, I won’t say another word about it today.” Crowley noted the add-on of “today” but still kept silent. Something told him he hadn’t quite won this battle yet.