#and then crowley wants to keep going he's sad they broke up but aziraphale had issues with heaven or something so he's scared

[girlbloggercrowley]

i am a believer in the s3 1941 kiss

#good omens #it just makes Sense. #like the way i shot out of my seat when aziraphale said he did the apology dance in 1941... WE HAVEN'T SEEN THAT YET!!!! #my delusional theory: they kiss on the night of the zombies/blitz after their gay little romantic dinner #they freak out about it and crowley leaves #GOD what if aziraphale initiated it then. and then he shows up later in the year (?) to do the dance #as an olive branch cause at this point he's painfully in love he just wants to see crowley again #so he does the dance as like. “sorry for freaking you out here's our joke it's all okay right?” #and then crowley has to watch as aziraphale apologizes for kissing him. yeah that works! slams my head into the wall #that would explain the weirdness in 1960s #would NOT explain why aziraphale said you go too fast but like maybe more things happened in between them. #oh my god what if like they fully dated then during those years but had a messy breakup #and then crowley wants to keep going he's sad they broke up but aziraphale had issues with heaven or something so he's scared #every day i hurt my own feelings

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hey I would like to request a good omens Crowley x reader angsty sad fic where they are pining over him but he loves aziraphale and they don’t want to interfere. Kind of Laufey’s song Let You Break My Heart Again vibes. Thx!!❤️

"Why couldn't I have what THEY had, [y/n]?! Maybe it's...it's all part of God's great ineffable plan! As if fallin' weren't enough...y'know? Why not allow him to walk outta my life and crawl back to the other angelss, too? Keep fuckin' me over, I suppose. This must be karma, I swear.."

"Crowley.." You began, only to stop as the demon on the other end of the line continued his drunken sorrowful ramblings.

He was still clearly hurting, and you were his only company left.

The only one who knew about him and Aziraphale and everything they've done together for the past 6,000 years.

You've been around for a thousand or so, not aligned with Heaven nor Hell, but living as a simple immortal being.

However, only very recently have you learned that they've in fact known each other since the very dawn of Creation.

So their history goes way back.

It's no secret that Crowley's been pining after the angel all these years, forced to pretend he hates him just because he was on the "opposite side".

But he was sick of doing all of that, and finally got the courage to tell him how he really felt. He begged him to stay, to stop taking sides, and to think about just them for once.

In the end, Aziraphale still chose the side that shunned him for conspiring with a demon, halting Armageddon, and hiding Gabriel on Earth...all because he was offered a higher position of power and couldn't so easily let go of Heaven.

Not as easily as Crowley could. He couldn't understand that, or why Gabriel and Beelzebub could go off together and they couldn't.

Now you were here, having to comfort the very same demon that you've fallen in love with yourself.

It felt like such a selfish desire, knowing that you haven't lived nearly as long as either of them. You weren't there at the beginning of Everything. You weren't there at the Garden of Eden.

You could never fully understand their deep-rooted bond.

There's no way he would ever see you in a remotely similar light.

Even still, the heart wants what it wants..even if it's unobtainable.

"Listen, Crowley.." You tried speaking again. "I'm next in line, do you want anything?"

Perhaps that was rather poorly worded, as you heard a sniffle and what sounded like him holding back a sob. "I just want him to come back.." His voice broke.

There was that feeling again, constricting your human heart with pain.

It was such a fickle organ, you often thought. It kept people alive, yet when put through emotional toil..it felt like it was killing them, and they wanted nothing more than to rip it out of their chest to be rid of the pain.

But right in this moment, you felt like that because deep down...you wish he instead said that he wanted-

"W-Wait..you're..at that café 'cross the bookshop, right?" You heard Crowley mumble. "I'll get the usual..assuming she remembers. Actually...don't bother-"

"It's fine, Crow. It'll be my treat. I'm getting something, too...not that we actually need it. But we both enjoy it, right?"

"...right." He chuckled depressingly. "Fine. I'll be outside."

That was a surprise, although when you briefly glanced outside the window of Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death, you noticed the Bentley parked next to the sidewalk. You sighed, hanging up the phone before you stepped up to the register, smiling at Nina.

"Hello, Nina. I'll have my usual..and Mr. Crowley's, too. Six espresso shots, was it? And one of those [favorite flavor] pies, pretty please." You pointed to the menu.

"On it." She nodded, already getting to work on your order. "You know, I haven't seen that chap around in a while. How's he holding up? I heard he took it pretty hard."

"Yeah." You muttered, recalling how you've talked to her about your own feelings for Crowley.

You weren't expecting a human to solve the relationship woes of immortal beings when she herself was going through her own issues.

She worried that her and Maggie's little "intervention" caused the demon and angel to split up, but you didn't blame her. And neither did Crowley, although he was torn between wishing he didn't kiss Aziraphale and wondering if he'd regret not doing that at all.

He hasn't been back at the coffee shop since.

"Well, do you plan to tell him anytime soon?"

You nearly choked on your own spit. "N-Nina...I..I can't just do that. He clearly doesn't see me that way. He talks about him every day and night. I've stayed up past midnight consoling him, letting him stay with me the moment I learned he's sleeping outta his car. But...it's him he loves, not me. And I can't interfere with that..it would be wrong."

"Then...what's your plan from here?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

"..I'm not sure anymore. I guess hope that one day..I'll stop falling in love with him. Maybe his angel will come back and everything will be as it was."

"Sounds like wishful thinking at this point, but I'm sure things will work out. Maybe he'll move on."

"I doubt it, but time will tell."

"Right." After finishing the drinks, she set them down into a cupholder, before giving you the pie as well. You paid and bid her farewell before heading out of the café and to the Bentley.

Inside, you saw Crowley sulking, lost in thought until you knocked on the passenger's window. He sat up with a start, fixing his glasses when he realized it was you. "S-Sorry."

The door opened, and you slid inside, passing him the tall cup with tons of espresso shots. "It's okay. So..where did you wanna go today?"

"I was thinkin'..St. James Park. Feel like I've been neglecting the ducks for far too long."

You blinked. 'Wasn't that..his and Aziraphale's thing-?'

"Yeah, I know..it...was our thing." He responded as though he read your mind. "'s just..been so lonely without him to chatter to. I hate siting all alone on that bench. But it's not like I can just walk Upstairs and tell him to screw all of them, right?"

"Sadly..no." Shaking your head, you glanced over your shoulder at the plants he's shoved into his backseat. Closest to you was a venus fly trap that had spots and other flaws, looking rather frail and wilted and sad.

Not too different from how its owner felt.

You smiled sadly and stroked the top of its head with your thumb, feeling it cease its trembles. Its mouth closed as it seemed to...purr?

How cute.

"Well would ya look at that...ya even treat the bloody things the same as he did.."

You tensed, looking back to Crowley and frowning upon seeing the tears sliding down his cheeks. But he was quick to wipe them away once you noticed them, yet a sniffle still managed to escape him.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to keep doing stuff that reminds you of him.." You set a hand on his back. "Do you...want me to drive?"

"No, it's fine.." He shook his head, sniffling loudly one last time before he managed to pull himself together. "Let's just..go."

You nodded, taking a sip of your coffee and a small bite of your pie, before you reached for the radio-

However, you forgot that the Bentley was sentient, instead turning it on for you and playing a song that nearly made you choke once again.

"--All I've had is coffee and leftover pie. It's no wonder why. Ooooh, still you take up all my mind. I don't even think that you care like I do. I should stop, Heaven knows I've tried..."

Even Crowley froze as he listened to the lyrics.

And not because it wasn't a Queen song.

"One day, I will stop falling in love with you."

Neither of you spoke a word, instead staring at the dashboard with looks of sadness upon your faces. You thought he would've changed the song by now, but...when you looked over, you could see his glasses now resting on the bridge of his nose.

His golden irises have almost completely taken over the whites of his eyes.

What little you saw of them..

Were growing redder and glossier.

"Some day, someone will like me like I like you."

You felt your own eyes start to sting, too, so you looked away and opted to pet the venus fly trap that was nuzzling your hand, clearly asking for more much-needed affection.

Sentient plants were easy to comfort.

If only your demon friend could be the same way..

If only you could show him that you wished to be more than just friends..but this simply wasn't your place to tell him that.

Not here, not now...and possibly not ever. For as long as you lived on this mortal plane.

All you could hope was that one day, the feeling will pass.

If Aziraphale came back, things might be better. You wished the idiot would at least check in with you both once in a while so you knew he was alive.

If that's the last time you hear from him, well....you weren't sure if Crowley would ever want to try loving again after what he's suffered through. He poured his heart out, only for it to get broken and stomped on before being left all alone on Earth.

He couldn't go through that again.

And you didn't wanna say anything about how you felt for the centuries you've known him. He could very well perceive that as you trying to replace him and ruin this friendship.

The wounds in his heart are still clearly fresh..and they likely will be for a long, long time.

For now, you'll just be by his side and be mindful. Perhaps he'll eventually realize how you felt about him...but you doubt it.

"Until then, I'll drink my coffee, eat my pie. Pretend we are more than friends. Then of course, I'll let you break my heart again-"

Crowley's hand suddenly shot towards the button, the car filling with an abrupt silence as he shut off the music. Then he switched between several Queen songs, eyebrows furrowed as none of them seemed to suit his current mood.

If Queen didn't make him happy anymore...he was seriously in emotional distraught.

But eventually he settled for "Somebody to Love", and you smiled, wiping your eyes as you leaned back in the seat. "Good choice."

He nodded absentmindedly, before finally driving off to the park after adjusting his glasses.

No further words were exchanged. You didn't even scold him for speeding down the tightly-knitted roads of London. That's the last thing he needed right now.

Especially since you picked up that habit from Aziraphale.

But even as Freddie's voice reverberated through the Bentley, you two couldn't stop thinking about the lyrics of Laufey's song and what it meant to both of you.

Yet the people it reminded you of...were completely different.

#ough i listened to this song on repeat while editing this </3 #hurts like a bish #clanask #good omens x reader #good omens 2 spoilers #crowley x reader #ineffable husbands #immortal reader #angst

[ghostofchaos-past]

okay, I'm finally posting my good omens fic masterlist. then I'm going to bed i promise

this list will probably be added onto as i discover more fics, but here is what i have so far

also keep in mind i have no clue if I'm doing this right

- Since Eden (Till Armageddon) by ikarakie

the british museum needs to take their nose out of crowley's damn business. OR, a 200 year old journal full of crowley's pining and confessions ends up on display.

literally the first good omens fanfic i ever read, and it is heartbreaking and fluffy and amazing and so well worded oh my god nothing but praise for this thing

- Against the Bitter Cold by EdosianOrchids901

A pointless temptation assignment leaves Crowley stranded in the middle of a snowstorm. By the time he stumbles back to the inn, he’s so cold and disoriented that he can’t even remember why he was outside. Aziraphale is ready to lend a helping hand.

pre any relationship, sick hurt/comfort, absolutely beautiful and adorable

- love is not a sin by planetunderseige

Heaven gives him the ultimatum. Never see Crowley again, or get cast away. The choice is easy. Aziraphale falls.

ohmygod so heartbreaking, short and sad and beautifully written.

- Falling Slowly by ShesAKillerQueen98

Three months of peace after the failed apocalypse ends in tragedy as Heaven finds a new way to punish Aziraphale, one that's much more permanent. Will he and Crowley be able to pick up the pieces?

the description undersells it. normally when i say a fic broke me, I'm exaggerating. I'M NOT FUCKING EXAGGERATING THIS TIME. this is my all time favorite fic, pure angst and sadness with a slight bit of fluff at the end, absolutely beautiful and it left me sobbing. wahoo <3

- get religion quick (cause you're looking divine) by brinnanza

So it was fine. Even if Crowley couldn’t love him, he clearly liked him well enough, and that was almost the same thing. It no doubt would have continued to be fine, or at least fine-adjacent, were it not for a narrowly averted apocalypse and several bottles of a really quite nice Riesling Aziraphale had found in the back room of his newly restored bookshop.

oh poor oblivious aziraphale. i love this fic so much, the most plausible, in my opinion, to how their love confession probably would go.

- Don't Be Afraid Of The Dark yet again by EdosianOrchid901

Aziraphale is attacked by a group of humans who want to control his powers. He’s incapacitated by magic and unable to defend himself, totally helpless. But something dark and powerful bursts out of the shadows to rescue him.

angry crowley. scared crowley. its what i live for. cw for violence in this one obvs, but wow its sweet

- darling, let me hold you by @goomens

There’s no use thinking about it, ruminating over it. The bitter disappointment and crippling shame of it all. Crowley sniffs harshly, blinking the wet from his eyes and takes a deep, shaking inhale. He slowly steers the Bentley away from the pavement and drives. He doesn’t know where he’s going, but it hardly matters now.

a band-aid in these trying times. post the end of season two.

#not much of a masterlist #but i tried #i only have a few i really like tbh #i love angst can you tell #good omens #good omens season 2 #good omens fanfiction #ineffable husbands fanfiction #here have some angst #aziraphale #crowley #fallen aziraphale #good omens fluff #good omens angst #fanfiction #ao3

[flowerkidlove]

would you like to talk about this comic? I'm a bit interested

i'm! not much of a story teller and it's been fucking AGES since i've thought about it! but i'll give it a try! please keep in mind i was 15-17 when i first thought this up, i can show you some art when i get home! i also was using (with permission, at the time) a friends ocs/other characters

so it was about these three girls (the "leader of the group" (Antoinette/Toni (my one friends character), Melanie 'Mac' Anne Campbell (the SCOTTISH supernatural buff who was OBSESSED with aliens (my character)), and Beatrice/Bea (the 'vessel'/The Magician (like the card) also she basically has a spidey sense/prophetic visions/'gut feeling'/etc) whose souls are kind of cursed to forever return to Hell or a divine war would be wrought unto the world!!!!!!!! oh noooo!!!!!!

through a loophole (them playing with a ouija (they have died to go to hell in previous lives)) they end up in hell where they meet Lucifer, who they run away from at some point (how? idk....don't ask me........) (probably from the help of a demon (an old friends oc)) and end up in the arms of a rogue Grim Reaper (my oc Elliot, whom i have talked about once or twice) who is in love with Sekani (who was the egyptian god Anubis at the time when i first made this), the grim reaper he was training under (if that matters....these two are my babies, i have to mention the both of them together)

if i remember correctly, if the girls wanted to be free of the curse, they had to collect like. ancient artifacts, one of them was the ankh of Anubis and Bea was the vessel for Lucifer? so that he could leave hell i think there were like 4 to 6, but i only remember the one. one mightve been an angels horn too but idr

i know that i wanted it to end with Luci and God kind of sort of reconciling? that's about all i remember

some other random shit i remember:

i had 12 angels to stay around God (His name was Miguel?? also Jesus had a pet donkey named Maggy (like Mary Magdalene))

Gabriel/Gabrielle was a hijabi who was very grumpy and orderly, Soriel was a too cool for this shit guy, Raphael was a mix of both Aziraphale and Crowley, Dina/Jophiel was the angel of love (??) Uriel was my favorite and was mute? i think? or at least a very silent angel? there was one who was a stuck up bitch, started with a T.

the comic was inspired by Good Omens, what little i knew about the bible, The Kane Cronicles (Percy Jackson but egyptian), Supernatural, and "Death Rides a Pale Horse" by Piers Anthony

Elliot ended up dying and coming back as Life?? i think??????????

also, Elliot and Sekani "break up" because Elliot didnt like that these three innocent souls (past lives of Toni, Mac, and Bea) were to be brought straight to hell and wanted to stop this injustice! also, Elliot broke Sekani's precious guitar given to him by a human love (SAD!)

Elliot was the oc to get the most trauma! he was my trauma oc who also changed as my identity changed COOL

Elliot was called Emily when i first created him

the comic's name was "What In Hell"

Mac, my character was made before i knew i was trans and i think it's funny that my name (Max) is so close to hers, just a funny thought

i'll post a couple pages in a reblog this shit is so fucking long

#max's asks #enby-raccoon #little buddies

[holycatsandrabbits]

Love’s Endless Light: A Good Omens serial romance

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Chapter 2: Fear Dispelling

57 BC, El Mirador, Mesoamérica

It was oddly easy to forget that Aziraphale was an angel. Especially because Aziraphale never missed an opportunity to remind Crawly of that. But while Aziraphale tended to act in an angelic manner: kind, caring, generous, he was also sort of unassuming, meek and mild, gentle. Which was why it always nearly gave Crawly a heart attack to see Aziraphale suddenly transform into a Soldier of Heaven.

They’d been standing in the marketplace. Aziraphale was prattling on about something, and Crawly wasn’t really listening, because he’d been distracted. Crawly wasn’t sure why, but sometimes odd things about the angel would catch his attention: the way the the white hair on his arms seemed to sparkle in the sunlight, the lively noise his hands made when he clapped them free of dust, the way his voice occasionally dropped low and sounded almost— tempting.

So while Crawly had been gazing curiously at Aziraphale’s sandals, noting with inexplicable interest that the angel’s second toes were longer than his big toes, some humans started a fight, and Aziraphale apparently felt the situation called for the Powers of Heaven. Suddenly Crawly was standing next to an angel in glory, feet planted apart, wings arching out, glowing golden, with his hands curled around the hilt of a flaming sword.

Soldier was such a strange look on Aziraphale. He was always clever, but now he looked calculating. He was strong, but now he looked powerful. Crawly backed up as far as he could go without actually running away. Aziraphale didn’t spare him a glance, all of his attention on a group of humans who’d apparently been menacing some other group of humans. Now some of the attackers were cowering, but others had armed themselves with whatever they could lay hands on— stone and obsidian knives, broken pottery, even a spear.

They didn’t stand a chance against an angel who had clearly been trained in close-hand combat. The sharp, pointed way Aziraphale moved now was so alien to his usual quiet walk and gentle habits that it gave Crawly a shiver. It reminded him so clearly of the War in Heaven between angels and Fallen angels. Crawly remembered the brilliant light, the screaming, the pain and heartbreak of friend pitted against friend.

Crawly hadn’t known Aziraphale then. He wasn’t even sure Aziraphale had been in the War. Either way, Aziraphale clearly knew how to fight. Except for one thing: none of the humans were being injured. Aziraphale fought only to disarm them. Eventually, the whole group of them were forced to admit defeat, and they fled.

Crawly expected the other humans to be grateful to their defender. Apparently Aziraphale expected it as well, because he reached out toward a child who had fallen.

The child buried her face in her mother’s leg, sobbing. Her mother picked her up and ran.

Aziraphale’s glow doused itself in an instant, as if someone had dumped a bucket of cold water over him. The sword and wings vanished, too, leaving Aziraphale as just a man standing by himself in an empty marketplace. He kept his face turned away from Crawly, but Crawly could see the tension in his shoulders, like his wings were still weighing on him.

Crawly wasn’t sure what to do. He didn’t want to get closer to Aziraphale right now, but neither could he bear to leave him alone. “There’s your good deed for the day,” Crawly called.

Aziraphale didn’t answer. His gaze was trained onto the ground, where stone knives lay in a haphazard pile, gray with dirt and dust, but not a speck of blood. The lack of all sound ate at Crawly, the quiet of what should have been a busy marketplace, of what should have been a chattering angel.

“Kind of you,” Crawly offered, uncertainly. “You’re always protecting them, even from themselves.”

“Kindness is in the eye of the beholder, apparently,” Aziraphale said.

Crawly was so unnerved by the heartbreak in Aziraphale’s voice that he said the next thing that popped into his mind, although, historically, that had never failed to be a bad idea. “Did you learn those moves in the War in Heaven?”

Aziraphale’s head snapped up, and he gazed at Crawly with shocked blue eyes. “That— that was a long time ago,” he said, his cheeks flushing a feverish red.

Crawly was very much regretting angering what he somehow seemed to keep forgetting was an very dangerous angel. “Um— I just meant—”

“Why?” Aziraphale demanded, stalking closer to Crawly. “Do you think I want to fight you?”

Aziraphale hadn’t reignited his glow or brought out his wings, but he stood in front of Crawly with his hand tilted up, like he was expecting to momentarily be holding a sword. He was an angel facing down a demon, but not like Crawly had ever seen before. This angel looked not murderous and violent but sick and in pain.

“No,” Crawly said. “I know you don’t.”

Aziraphale’s gaze played over Crawly’s face, as if he was unsure whether to believe him. As if Aziraphale had an awful lot riding on that answer.

“I don’t want to fight you either,” Crawly said.

Aziraphale’s sword hand lowered. “I know. I was stupid enough to pass out drunk with you in Egypt a couple of hundred years ago. You could have—”

Crawly made an uncertain noise. “I mean, I was drunk too. So, you know. Not at my best.”

Aziraphale was looking at the ground again. “Were you in the War?” he asked softly.

“Yeah. Well, kind of. I hid.” Crawly wasn’t sure how he expected Aziraphale to react to that, but it definitely wasn’t a half-second of clear relief followed by his usual more tempered expression.

“You weren’t supposed to do that,” Aziraphale chided, but his voice had gentled again, disapproving rather than dangerous. “Hell would have punished you if they’d found out.”

“Eh, well—” Crawly said, “you see, the thing about rebelling is they can’t just expect you to stop, right? I mean, I rebelled against Heaven.” Crawly’s voice broke a bit. “In— in my own way. Sort of happened into it. But anyways, I Fell, and then they suddenly expect me to follow new orders? Doesn’t work that way.”

“Once a rebel, always a rebel?” Aziraphale asked.

“Hardly going to stop now,” Crawly said. And then, in an act that he would later realize marked the beginning of a very, very distressing and ultimately unshakable habit, he took it upon himself to fight away Aziraphale’s sadness. “Might even,” he said, “have dinner with an angel. If he’s amenable.”

Aziraphale raised his eyebrows a little, looking soft and strangely hopeful.

********

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Read on Ao3

Updates Fridays on Ao3 and Tumblr.

Want to create fic, art, or other works based on this series? Please do! Just dm or tag me.

My previous Good Omens serial: Mr. Fell’s Bookshop

My Carrd

*********

Image text: Love’s Endless Light by Dannye Chase (HolyCatsAndRabbits) Chapter 2

As Aziraphale and Crowley slowly fall in love over the millennia, Crowley discovers that Aziraphale is keeping a very dangerous secret.

#Dannye writes #Love's Endless Light #Good omens #good omens fanfic

[malereader-inserts]

Making Things Better

Fandom: Good Omens Pairing: Crowley x Male!Reader x Aziraphale Summary: Even, if you’ve had the worst day, your boyfriends seems to make it better. Word Count:  1,089 Request: Can I ask for some Ineffable husbands with the reader having a bad day and those two just being incredible trying to get him in a good mood? I'm really sorry if it's vague Warning: Description of depression

You really weren’t having the best day at all.

You woke up being absolutely tired, it’s something you should really get used to (and you are) but today was different. Like other days you feel exhausted from staying up late and overthinking, but when you woke up today, it seems like life was weighing heavier than usual. Your shoulders hurt and your back ached, there was the edging feeling of the need to cry.

And you’re not afraid to cry.

Nevertheless, you got up, slowly. You took a shower, because if you’re required human interaction - you had to at least smell decent. It was a five minute wash, just your body. You put dry shampoo because Crowley got it for you, he likes to keep his locks looking fresh every day and when he found out your struggles - you make your life easier and not wash your hair, he gave you a can of dry shampoo. 

You leave for work, it was a simple workplace. Just in the local supermarket by you, but since you’ve been deemed as an essential worker for the last few months - you’ve met an assortment of people. And, in your frame of mind, it’s something you really in the headspace for. Still, you put on your mask and lifted your eyes to give them life as you walked in to work. 

You were assigned in stacking shelves, keep them full because even when the panic buying has subsided, people are buying in bulks for the week. Of course, it was not bad, managed to mess around with co-workers you adored. But, that doesn’t stop the entitle people bothering you and making your day worst. 

Of course, you got assigned to the register, scanning people’s items - you were met with assholes, respectful teens and the odd elderly person. Some people complaining about the price of the total, in which you had to explain why it was the price because someone thought it was on half price but wasn’t before, they start cussing you out.

And even when your shift was finished, your day got worst as you had to run back home in the rain. You arrive home and ate at least a little bit, you headed to your next job. You live in London, and London isn’t cheap at all. Your second job? Being a waiter, and you know you’re going to get hurled abuse.

The restaurant was a nice place to work, it had good pay, good managers and good owners who all cared about their employees. It made working there a lot bearable, and you got along with your fellow waiters and waitress, you could make jokes with the cooks. But, it was peak hours at night, meaning the people that booked tables, are usually entitled as fuck. With a mask on, you tried to prepare yourself for the night. 

Mothers snapping their fingers at you for your attention, dads making rude comments to the waitress and when you called them out, the harassed you - luckily, one of the managers intervened. Of course, you had bratty little kids with no one minding them, making a mess on the table - salt, pepper, and all the sauces - even worst when they get their food. 

Your section seemed to be the worst that night, and you were ready to break down and cry. Of course, the night can’t go amiss without some spillages and the people you were serving scream and shout at how careless you were even if it wasn’t your fault. Then, the drunk idiots throwing up, spewing all over.

It wasn’t the greatest day, you barely ate or slept. Meanwhile, your loving boyfriends had not heard from you at. Usually, between your work, you could call, but you didn’t. If you could, you would sneak a text, but heard nothing. So, they decided to meet you at your apartment.

“I do hope he’s okay,” Aziraphale worried as Crowley scoffs.

“Oh, he will be, Angel, you worry too much.”

As you walk back home, in the pouring rain as your umbrella broke half-way through the walk, you were soaked. So, you wanted to lie in bed, slamming the door open making the two celestial beings jump. 

“Darlin- Why are you wet?”

You looked at Crowley and responded, “The rain.”

You sounded so exhausted, and when the words “Are you okay?” were uttered out, your lips quivered. Hands shaking, your eyes started to close up to stop the tears falling. You sniffled before your shoulders drop.  Your eyes drip with tears. Your walls, the walls that hold you up just collapse. Moment by moment, they fall. Salty drops fall from your chin, drenching your shirt. Aziraphale was quick to engulf you into a hug.

Crowley sighs and rubs your back. It seems like the two beings had an internal conversation as the two started to move. Aziraphale started to slowly move you along and Crowley snaps his fingers, you could hear the bath running and your demon boyfriend running to get you warm clean clothes, then you could hear the kettle boil with the courtesy of your beloved angel.

“Bad day?” Your angel cooed.

You nodded tearfully, “The worst.”

Your angel nods, slowly pulling your clothes off you so it doesn’t stick and get you sick. Crowley grabs your hand, gently, his warm hands rubbing against yours to start insulating you as he guides you to the bath as Aziraphale starts cooking for you. Crowley lathers you, massage your shoulders and your back and offering anywhere in your body where it aches.

Whilst you can’t wash the feeling of dread and sadness away, at least you have your boyfriends to make your day just a little bit better.

“Who do I need to tempt then?”

“I didn’t catch any names,” You murmured as Aziraphale comes waltzing into the bathroom with a tray of food looking at you and Crowley disapprovingly.

“Now, now, we don’t need to go that far,” Aziraphale tuts.

“I think we do,” Crowley sits behind you, trying not to get wet as his hands run through your hair, massaging your scalp with suds of shampoo, “No one hurts our baby boy.”

“Not a baby,” You vocalised, sighing, “I am fully grown!”

“We’re aware.”

“Sounds really ominous, Crowley.”

As Aziraphale chuckles and feeds you, despite your protest and Crowley carefully cleaning you, you felt better as if the burden of the world you felt this morning slowly lifted from your shoulders. You feel better and a lot safer in your boyfriends’ presence.

#ineffable husbands x male reader #Aziraphale #aziraphale imagine #crowley x male reader x aziraphale #aziraphale x male reader #anthony j crowley imagine #anthony j crowley x male reader #x male reader

[iprefertheterminsane]

Just saw another ineffable fanart of Crowley holding Aziraphale back from falling headfirst into something stupid and impulsive and hoo, boy, was unprepared for the realization of how their external attitudes (read: their outward obvious relationship dynamic) are actually the exact opposite of how it actually works. Aziraphale was getting himself double crossed by Nazis in a church cause he liked the intrigue and getting captured in France during the revolution for a couple of crepes, and Crowley is there to save him every single time, continuously following and keeping tabs of his angel, asking for holy water as a failsafe if anything ever goes wrong and you'd think, "Huh, Aziraphale would have died a thousand times over if Crowley hadn't always been there, what would he do without him," but NO. AZIRAPHALE WAS THE ONE WHO KEPT THEM SAFE. YES, CROWLEY HAD SAVED AZIRAPHALE FROM GETTING DISCORPORATED TIME AND AND TIME AGAIN, but Aziraphale worked for HEAVEN, and yeah he would've been shamed and insulted for it at great length, but other than so, getting another corporation would have just been a matter of waiting, and paperwork . Heaven DOES do rude notes, and they're ACTUALLY reasonable enough to predict a discoporation if they ever send him off to do blessings in a dangerous place....unlike Hell, and even then, Aziraphale probably could've actually handled himself, even if he never liked it. In a pinch, you KNOW Azi could've handled his executioner, or the Nazis, swinging fisticuffs and bullets. He was a Guardian of Eden, and they don't give away that sort of position lightly, ESPECIALLY if they were a principality. Aziraphale never actually had anything to worry about. You know what he WAS worried of? What he was scared about? Heaven and Hell FINDING OUT ABOUT THEIR RELATIONSHIP. Because then it wasn't about paperwork or corporations anymore. It was about breaking the number one evident, unspoken Law. If Heaven and Hell ever found out that their chivalrous rivalry involved dates by the Thames and drunken sexual tension in the back of the Bookshop...Falling would be the least of Azi's concerns.

And you know who WAS drunkenly in love and impulsive and reckless in terms of it?

CROWLEY.

You think Aziraphale WANTED to keep them further than arm's length from one another? Say no? Deny their friendship and acquaintance over and over and over again? You don't think it HURTS to see the heartbreak and sadness every time Aziraphale had to decline another meal,a night at my place, one more kiss on the cheek I promise? He was finally loved and appreciated in a way none of his brothers and sisters ever had ever since the War, by a man who had been with him as long as he can remember. If Crowley had his way, they would have been together by the 13th Century-and it would only go downhill from there. AZIRAPHALE kept them steady, kept them SAFE. It was a necessary pain, and he KNEW he was the only one strong enough between the two of them to do it.

As one post put it so fluently, Crowley burned his feet and blew up a church to save Aziraphale from paperwork. Aziraphale quietly broke 5 thousand laws and commited treason by handing over a tartan flask.

#ineffable husbands #ineffable partners #anthony j crowley #aziraphale #bamf aziraphale #meta talk #that you guys probably knew already #but hey

[prettybirdy979]

Fic: Aziraphale/Crowley ‘Well it’s a good thing I don’t plan on doing that.’

ONumber 32 from this list - feel free to send me any other prompts from it or any of the ones in this tag. Thanks to the Ace Omens Discord for picking the prompt!

Aziraphale doesn’t knock when he arrives at Crowley’s place, miracling himself through the door like it’s not even there. A part of him bristles at his own rudeness but he’s not seen Crowley in three months and now the silly serpent isn’t answering his phone.

‘Crowley!’ he calls, pacing through the flat. ‘Crowley!’ He knows his voice is a little frantic but it’s been three months and he hopes if something had happened, Crowley would have called or he would know but what if he didn’t and he doesn’t and-

‘Aziraphale?’

Aziraphale turns, relief flooding through him as he sees Crowley standing in his bedroom doorway with a frown on his face. He doesn’t look tired or newly woken - in fact he’s fully dressed and frowning. 

‘What are you doing here?’

‘I was worried,’ Aziraphale says with a sniff as he stalks towards Crowley. ‘You weren’t answering your phone.’

Crowley looks around, shifting in place. ‘I wasn’t?’ he lies.

‘You’re still as poor a liar as you were in Spain,’ Aziraphale snaps. ‘Yes, you weren’t! I thought... well. I thought terrible things.’

‘Well as you can see, nothing terrible here.’ Crowley gestures at the door. ‘Now you’ve checked up on me, you’re welcome to leave.’ There’s a tension in him, in the way he’s almost vibrating in place. 

‘No.’

Crowley blinks. ‘No?! Angel you’ve not talked to me in years and now you’re pissy about a few months? Just leave me alone, give me time...’

Aziraphale steps back, something sharp lodged in his heart. ‘Oh, I’m sorry my dear. I’ll... I see. I understand. I’ll go.’

‘Keep it together demon,’ Crowley mutters, in a voice Aziraphale only hears because he’s deserpately listening for anything from Crowley. ‘You can’t go too fast for him.’

Aziraphale freezes. ‘What?’

‘...Shit. Angel, go.’

The desperation in Crowley’s voice is nearly enough to get Aziraphale to leave but he can’t. Not when Crowley is sad, not when he thinks Aziraphale is leaving because he wants to, instead of because he’s trying to do what Crowley wants, for once.

‘And if I want to stay? To be with you at your side?’

Crowley looks like Aziraphale just drove a knife into his heart. ‘I go too fast Angel,’ he says with a finality. ‘You’re going to leave eventually... I just have to restrain myself for a bit until you’re fine, or you’ll plan to leave.’

‘Well it’s a good thing I don’t plan on doing that.’

Crowley blinks. ‘What?’

‘I’m not leaving you. Ever.’ Aziraphale moves forward and hovers his hand over Crowley’s human heart. ‘I broke this that night, didn’t I?’ he asks, not looking Crowley in the eye. ‘I was trying to be kind, to give you hope, but you can break a heart with hope just as easily as you can help it.’

‘I don’t have a heart to break,’ Crowley lies as he leans in, letting Aziraphale’s hand rest on his chest. He lowers his head so their foreheads are touching. 

Azirapale snorts. ‘Yes you do. I think you gave it to me at some point and I have been so utterly cruel with it.’

‘Angel, no.’

Looking up for a moment, Aziraphale meets Crowley’s glasses-free eyes before looking down again. ‘I have. It’s not much, but I can offer you mine in return...?’

Crowley pushes at Aziraphale’s chin, so they end up looking at another. ‘Angel, your heart is worth a thousand of mine, the most precious of treasures. You don’t have to give it to me, I’m not... It’s too good for me.’

‘And if I want to give it to you?’ Crowley looks dumbfounded and Aziraphale finds he likes the expression, and the blush on Crowley’s cheeks. ‘Your heart is the most precious, beautiful thing I have ever known or had, and I’ve mistreated it. Getting to hold it for even one moment more is worth more than my heart could ever hope to be.’

Leaning in again, Crowley laughs. ‘We clearly don’t value our own hearts.’

‘That’s easy then,’ Aziraphale says with a smile as he leans back in. ‘You can have mine and I’ll treasure yours.’

‘Sounds like a deal,’ Crowley grins and they seal it with a kiss.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #My Scribbles #My Story #i lost the plot for this a dozen times #so if it makes no sense i'm sorry

[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.

#my writing #good omens #good omens fic #good omens fanfic #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley fanfiction #fanfic #crowley #aziraphale

[soulflamesketches]

If you still have a request opening, how about prompt number 3 “kissing so desperately that their whole body curves into the other person’s” with Crowley in his Bentley ^_^ Crowley is magnificent and his Bentley is the sexiest car out there, they both seemed too perfect with this prompt. Thank you for your consideration!

You’re back (Crowley x Reader)

Author’s Notes: Magnificent Crowley and Sexy Bentley come right up! Also, can I just say how much I love this gif specifically? I mean look at this glorious bastard! and yes, I mean both cause I know this is Aziraphale!

Warning: A slight Gorey description, discombobulation and I may have made it angsty.

Prompt: #3 “Kissing so desperately that their whole body curves into the other person’s”

Crowley was walking through the London streets on his way to his flat. Armageddon had just been prevented by Adam and it was like nothing had happened - everything was back to normal. Well, it seemed that way. But Crowley was still unsettled, not everything was as it was, not after what he saw.

He lost Aziraphale, he lost his Bentley and most concerning, he lost you and he saw it happen. 

~Flashback~

“Angel! Angel, where the bloody hell are you!?”

Crowley screamed as ran through your apartment, literally checking every nook and cranny for you. The demon was frantic, uncharacteristically scared that he lost the angels in his life. Then he heard your desperate scream.

“Crowley!” 

His head shot up to the window only to see you locking blades with another angel. Your longsword being the only thing blocking the blade from slicing your body in two. Your (e/c) eyes, previously panic-filled, were taken over with relief at the sight of the demon through the window. 

Hearing the scream, Crowley’s teeth were clenched as he rushed out the door. “Back away from them, you bastard!” He roared, ready to lunge at the angel, only for the world to be silenced.

It was all in slow motion as the angel smirked, taking advantage of your being distracted. He lifted his blade, shifting the weapon to point downwards. With the removal of the blade, all of your strength that kept the blade at bay was now forcing you towards your assailant as the blade was thrust downwards.

Crowley was forced to take in everything about this moment - The panic on your face, the cracking your splitting skull, the thud of your body on the ground whilst the sword was buried in the dirt to pin the bleeding body to the Earth. That look was frozen upon your eyes as life left your body. 

The corpse on the ground then started to glow a brilliant white before fading. The faintest silhouette was seen leaving it and being hauled upstairs, no matter how the form seemed to struggle. All that was left was the bloody sword as it was ripped from the ground by the angel, who still wore a proud smirk upon his face at having killed one of the traitors.

Crowley’s shoulders shook as rage filled his system, ready to explode in fiery fury. First Aziraphale and now you. Before the angel had a chance to mock the distraught demon, Crowley already grasped your longsword and pierced it through the chest of the bastard. Serpentine yellow eyes bore into the angel’s as the demon then twisted the sword earning a scream.

A second body shared the fate as the first one when the sword was ripped from his chest cavity. 

An impossibly tight grip on the sword’s hilt and furious tears filling the demon’s eyes as left for the closet pub, broken without his best friend and loved one with him.

~Current time~

Crowley looked up to the sky - to the heavens - wondering where you were at this moment. Aziraphale had been lucky to find a body to inhabit when they encountered Adam leading to him getting his body back. But you couldn’t for whatever reason and now Crowley could only assume you were stuck up there... forever. 

Stopping on the block corner, his eyes landed upon his Bentley parked outside his home. Not a scratch on her. But not even his intact Bentley could the gaping hole be filled. Before he could approach the car, he felt that something was off, squinting at the car he noticed someone inside. Suddenly defensive of the car, he marched over to the vehicle only to freeze once he opened the door.

“Get out of my bloody c-- (Y/n)?”

There you were in the driver’s seat with a nervous smile on your face.

“Hey, Crow--Mmph!” The seat’s back was pushed down, you along with it as Crowley tackled you onto your back and pressed his lips to yours, desperately as to make sure that it was you that he was holding. 

Your arms locked around his neck as you returned the kiss just as desperately. holding each other so close that you curved into one another like perfect puzzle pieces of the most difficult puzzle in history finally meeting. 

Pulling away from the passionate exchange, you didn’t have the chance to speak let alone smile at him before he attacks your neck, causing you to gasp and cover your mouth to hold in your surprised squeaks. “C..Crowley,” you said wanting him to listen but he was almost too enthralled with his current activity. “Crowley! wait, listen to me!” You resorted to barking to finally get his attention.

“I... I thought you were gone..” Crowley replied as he looked down at you. It broke your heart to see the tears appearing in his eyes, you cupped his face in your hands a touch that leaned into tenderly, holding your wrist to keep the touch. 

“I am back, but...” You broke eye contact, finding it hard to look into his sad eyes. Adam’s reversion had given your body back, but it didn’t restore one divine intervention. 

“What? What is it?” He questioned frantically, his turn to cup your cheek so that you look him in the eyes. His scared eyes stopped you from forming words “I...I-I...” trailing off, you gave up formulating a sentence. The sound of ruffling feathers caused the demon’s eyes to shot up to your wings as they peeked out from your back.

His eyes widened at the sight. Your wings were no longer the glowing white they were for thousands of years, they were pitch black. “Angel...” He whispered as he returned his gaze to your face as the tears filled your eyes. “They... they said... ‘If you’re going be a traitor, might as well join them’”

Crowley nearly hissed in fury at what he was hearing. Like Aziraphale and himself, you were just trying to stop Armageddon from happening, to stop a needless war from happening. Upstairs and Downstairs were so focused on this war that the actual innocent were being punished. 

Sitting up, Crowley pulled you up with him and into his arms, his nose buried in your neck. You sniffled as the tears fell and he just held you tighter with a tenderness no demon should have. 

“Fuck that they think. As long you’re here, that’s all that matters, Angel.”

“I love you, Crowley,” You said finally feeling the freedom to say it after many millennia of restricted love. His grip tightened on you as he whispered against your skin.

“I love too, angel...”

#good omens #good omens x reader #good omens x you #good omens x y/n #good omens imagine #crowley x reader #crowley x you #crowley x y/n #crowley #crowley x angel reader #anthony j crowley #Anthony j crowley x reader #Anthony j crowley x you #Anthony j crowley x y/n #Anthony j crowley imagine #good omens crowley x reader #good omens crowley x you #good omens crowley x y/n #good omens crowley imagine #good omens crowley #prompt imagine #request #requested fic #reader insert

[morgaine2005]

End of year fic asks: 1, 2, 6, 7 😊

I GOT AN ASK!!!!!!! *coughs* Ahem.

Answers under a cut because they’re a little long:

1. What’s your personal favourite thing you wrote this year?

Take Me Home, hands down. It wasn’t all written this year (it’s kind of enormous) but it was a long, intricately plotted crossover kid fic (kinda) that was just a labor of love and a joy to write. It was also the first long fic I’d finished in a long, long, long time.

2. What’s your least favourite thing you wrote this year?

Probably Tossing Starfish. I don’t think it’s bad, per se, but it’s rather bleak and sad (dealing with some very heavy themes). And while I was able to end it on a hopeful note ... yeah, it’s just sad.

(If you want to read that one, mind the tags.)

6. What’s your favourite piece of dialogue you wrote this year?

Eris’s “The Reason You Suck” Speech that she delivers to Zeus in Chapter 20 of Take Me Home:

“Who do you really think you’re gonna be able to keep?” Eris asked. “The wonder twins, maybe, but between you and me? Given Apollo’s whole ‘prophecy’ deal, I don’t think he’s gonna stick around on a sinking ship, and Artemis will go wherever he goes. Ares will stick with me, and Aphrodite will stick with Ares. Hephaestus might stick with you … or he might decide to switch sides to the god who didn’t throw him off Mount Olympus. Kinda hope he does, to be honest, it’ll be better than therapy for him. Now, you might have had a prayer with Persephone and Hades, since the last thing Hades wants is another war … except, whoops! Persephone and Ari are tight, so the best you’re going to get out of the Underworld is neutrality, and I wouldn’t bet more than a couple drachmas on that. So that means Demeter’s not going to be on your side, either. Aunt Hestia might want to be on your side, because family, but you broke xenia and that’s kind of her thing, so you can kiss her and her baklava goodbye. That leaves Poseidon, who, yeah, is still sore over the whole Theseus debacle. Oh, and Mother.”

Eris smirked at Hera, then turned that smirk back onto Zeus. “Face it, Father. You’re fucked.”

“ERIS!” Zeus bellowed.

It should have reduced Eris to a quivering wreck. She didn’t blink. “You can yell all you want. It’s not gonna save you.”

Zeus took a deep breath. The air crackled with static. And Hera – staring aghast between her husband and her child – realized that she might have to make a choice—

“Although if you listen to me and do exactly what I say,” Eris said, “I might save you.”

Honestly, the whole scene where Eris lays into Zeus was one of my favorite ones to write, but I’m not going to quote the whole thing because that would contain spoilers and be very long.

7. What’s your favourite piece of description or narration?

The description of the ethereal plane and Aziraphale in Chapter 10 of Take Me Home is up there, as is the bit a little later when Ariadne heals Crowley.

Description of Aziraphale and the ethereal plane:

[Ariadne] looked around.[1] She was aware, on one level, that they hadn’t left the spare bedroom in Jasmine Cottage. On the other hand, she was equally aware that wherever they were, it wasn’t the spare bedroom in Jasmine Cottage. It looked – if it looked like anything – like the vast plane of space, dotted by pinpricks of light with fine stardust sprinkled throughout.

Aziraphale was still very near her, or at least, she thought the being was Aziraphale. If being was even the right word for the glowing shape next to her. Ariadne saw two pure white wings, burnished hooves, eyes everywhere, and faces. First an eagle, then an ox, then a lion, then a person—Aziraphale. And—

Those were stumps. Two of them. Where—wings?—ought to have been.

Healing Crowley:

Healing Crowley was a little like sewing up a tear in fabric. It was a little like tying knots. It was a little like shaping dough, or clay. It was a little like pouring asphalt into a crack in the pavement. It was a little like playing with fire, and it was a lot like herding cats.

Actually, what she was doing – taking parts of Crowley’s essence and knitting them back together, covering the hole, smoothing it over so the rest of Crowley’s essence could fill in the void underneath and start to heal – wasn’t really like any of these things, when you got right down to it. But it was a little like them, and that was enough to be getting on with.

Thank you for sending this in! This trip down memory lane was quite fun.

#thegeekogecko

[shipaholic]

Omens Universe, Chapter 19

2 chapters to go -!!

Link to next part at the end.

(From the beginning)

(last part)

(chrono)

---

Chapter 19

A smoking pile lay on the ground. Crowley looked down at it, still processing what he’d just seen. A sword, a crown, and a set of scales. Smoke rose from them in wisps. Crowley knew one thing for certain; he was blessed if he was going to touch them.

“Why… why did they disappear?” Aziraphale said, half to nobody.

War, Famine and Pollution. One moment they’d been gung-ho about Adam using his terrifying powers, the next - vanished. Nothing left of them except a heap of unsettling artifacts.

Crowley looked to the tall figure remaining. Death’s eye sockets looked back at him, pinpoints of bright blue in their centres.

“Where did they go?” he said.

Death’s head tilted towards him.

THEY HAVE GONE. THEY EXISTED BECAUSE HUMANITY DREAMT OF THEM. HUMANITY DREAMS NO MORE. HUMANITY THINKS NO MORE. HUMANITY IS NO MORE.

In a small voice, Aziraphale said, “But… you’re still here.”

Death grinned.

YES. I AM STILL HERE.

Crowley shivered. So. No more humans. Nothing but the washed-out things standing about the house. Adam got them all.

“We’re the only ones left,” Aziraphale murmured.

“You had to point that out, didn’t you?” Crowley muttered.

Adam stared around the garden. He seemed to take in that he was now one of five sentient creatures left on Earth. He looked from Aziraphale and Crowley, to Death, to Spacedog at his feet. The little dog had shrunk into an unhappy ball. Even his helmet looked smaller than usual.

“All right.” Aziraphale sounded a little like his old self. He raised his chin and spoke briskly. “Why did you spare Crowley and myself?”

Adam’s gaze wandered back to the two of them. Crowley tried not to flinch.

“We’re in the eye of the storm,” he said, dramatically.

There was a pause.

Crowley wrinkled his nose. “Come off it.”

Adam grinned. Only with one corner of his mouth, and for half a second, but still.

“Yeah, it sounds cool when people on TV say that. Actually, I want to see Zadkiel.”

Crowley moved protectively towards Aziraphale. Aziraphale did the same towards him. They bumped into each other a bit, but Crowley felt he managed to play it off.

He glared at Adam. “No.”

“Why?” Aziraphale said.

Adam shrugged. “I just thought he was cool. He saved my life. You two were pretty useless - no offence. He was much better.”

“He’s not a party trick,” said Crowley.

“Don’t you want to be him? I thought you wanted to spend the rest of your lives together.”

“Yeah, well, I hoped the rest of my life would take a bit longer,” Crowley snapped.

“I’m not killing you. Why don’t you understand? You’ll be fine. Better than fine. You’ll never feel anything bad again.”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said, quietly.

Crowley turned to him. A tiny flutter of hope whispered to him that perhaps Aziraphale was going to say something brilliant and save the day.

Aziraphale slipped his hand into Crowley’s. Crowley felt their fingers intertwine, and for a moment cared about nothing else.

“I think we’ve lost,” Aziraphale said, softly.

Crowley felt coldness squeeze his insides. Then, a hollow sense of loss.

“Yeah. I know,” he mumbled.

Aziraphale gave a sad smile. Crowley wondered if there was anything they could have thought of. Probably not. The only thing they could have done that would have made a damn bit of difference was to fall in love sooner. Been braver. Dared Heaven and Hell to destroy them. They would have - of course they would have. But oblivion was coming either way. They could have died on their own terms.

He supposed they still could.

“Do you want to?” he asked Aziraphale.

Aziraphale’s eyes were very bright and very sad. “Be him again? One last time?”

He paused in thought, his hand still laced with Crowley’s.

“I don’t think I want to do that to him,” he said at last. “And I rather want you to be the last thing I see.”

A lump in Crowley’s throat made it suddenly hard to breathe.

“Yeah. Same.”

He faced Aziraphale.

“We’re ready. Do your worst.”

Adam sounded bored. “So you’re not fusing then? Fine. Bye.”

Crowley braced himself.

Nothing happened.

He looked back up. Adam was frozen in thought.

“Hang on. Can a fusion have more than two people in it?”

Crowley blinked. He’d never thought about it before. The idea of fusing with anyone else had never occurred to him.

“Er… I don’t know?”

A disturbing light came into Adam’s eyes. Crowley wanted to shrink back from it.

“Wow. I bet you can. How cool would that be? A massive fusion that just gets bigger and bigger. You could keep on adding to it ‘til it’s got dozens of eyes and wings and arms and it’s bigger than a house - no, bigger than a planet. Big enough to eat the solar system.”

Aziraphale squeezed Crowley’s hand so tightly they’d both lose circulation if they had blood. Crowley’s heart was a jackhammer in his chest. He wanted to run away, but his legs had frozen to the lawn.

“That’d be brilliant. That’s way better than turning everyone into a stupid puppet. I want to be a fusion.”

Adam locked eyes with them.

Crowley felt his brain turn inside out, and his eyeballs begin to scream.

Adam crooked a finger. Crowley felt it hook into his brain and jerk him forward.

He and Aziraphale took halting, marionette footsteps across the grass. Their joined hands anchored Crowley to reality. His body was no longer his. It forced him to stagger forwards, a robot operated by an indifferent user.

Adam’s cherubic eleven-year-old smile was all he could see, getting bigger and bigger until it made up the whole world.

Crowley felt his gem flare. The light was all wrong.

The three of them dissolved together, and Crowley no longer existed.

~*~

He was a colossus, straddling the sky.

He was tiny and overwhelmed in an ocean of someone else’s thoughts.

He didn’t know what this was. This was hell.

He was a fusion. He knew that much. Forced together like jigsaw pieces that didn’t match, crammed together by an impatient child until they broke.

He wanted to recoil. He stopped him. One of him stopped the other two.

The one that was powerful held the two that were not so they could not escape. But they were all him, and his mind was splintering. He was cringing in a corner and he was the entire room.

He was ghastly. He was shameful. He shouldn’t exist.

A word rang inside him.

Abomination.

All three of them felt that.

He felt…

He didn’t know how to describe it. It was something big and complicated. The closest, simplest word was… sad.

The two tiny parts of him struggled towards each other and became one slightly less tiny part, swimming within a much larger one. It made little difference - they were still insignificant within the whole.

All the same.

Adam, let’s talk

Adam was not his name.

I know, but humour us

I don’t want to.

Well. Can’t argue with that, I suppose. Except arguing is at least seventy percent of all I’m good for. The rest is hair

He flicked his head from side to side. Wind roared in his ears. He must be miles off the ground.

Trying to push me out? Am I a flea in your ear?

Yes.

It’s your fault I’m in here, you know

He tried to wash the voice out with a rich wave of drowning static.

I wouldn’t aim that power at your own mind, if I were you. Which I am

Don’t tell me what to do.

Yes. Who gets to tell who what to do? That’s what this is about, isn’t it? You’ve put the whole world just as you want it. No will except for yours. Nobody in opposition means you always get exactly what you want. Ideal world

At least now I’m in control, I can put things right. You’re acting like anyone around me had free will before. They didn’t. Your people - the demons - scooped out my mum and dad’s minds long before I got the chance to. And the demons didn’t have free will either. They were all following some big plan because they’d get tortured if they didn’t. No-one was doing what they actually wanted. Most of ’em didn’t even really know why they were doing it. And I didn’t know anything. I just thought my life made no sense. I’ve made it make sense now. That’s all I wanted.

You’re trying to make the world simpler, so you can understand it?

Maybe.

Has it worked?

Yeah. It’s worked brilliantly.

Do you feel better?

…

Adam

…

I’m sorry

Why?

I could have helped you understand why your life made no sense, and I didn’t even try. I was thinking about myself. I do that a lot

It doesn’t matter.

It does. I came back for the humans. I wanted to save them. You’re human, too. I want to save you

I’m not human. I’m a monster with a scary rock in my head.

So’s Crowley, and he’s all right

That’s not -

Can I tell you about Crowley?

…

Hang on a mo

There was a bwip inside his mind, and the small annoying part separated into two even smaller parts.

Gosh, this is strange. We appear to be communicating within the fusion. We’ve never done that before. I suspect it’s only working because this fusion is not very stable. We’d have fallen apart by now without Adam holding us together with his immense influence over the state of reality

Yes, Aziraphale, we all got there five pages ago. You were going to say nice things about me, get on with it

So I was. No need to take that tone, my dear. Adam

Yes.

Oh good, you’re still there. Now. The thing about Crowley is that before I met him, I was terribly lonely and I didn’t even know. There were many years before She even made the Earth, when I felt like a cog in a machine that no-one actually wanted to be there. I convinced myself I must be happy as long as I was fulfilling my duty to the Great Plan. But really, I had nothing in common with the rest of my side. I always stood out. And standing out can make a person very detached. If nobody understands you, why should you understand them? It was a revelation, becoming friends with a demon. Someone I should have had nothing in common with. It made me better. The thing that Crowley has given me is… patience, and tolerance, and time. I just want others to have what I have now. That’s a gift. Love is a gift

I don’t love anyone.

I know. That’s a tragedy. Everyone has let you down terribly, to provide you with nothing in your life worth loving

I dunno. Maybe I just can’t do it.

I don’t think that’s it at all. Really, I don’t. I know that was Hell’s plan, to surround you with Satanic influences. But please understand, I’ve seen first-hand that the very best among us can come from Hell

Angel

Yes, Crowley?

That’s. That’s. Thank you

Any time

Uh. OK. I think it’s my turn now. Adam? First of all, I’m more responsible for the raised-by-demons thing, so sorry about that. And second… I was shoved off a cloud and took a million mile freefall dive into boiling sulphur. So I know something about cock-ups. Sometimes you mess something up so badly there’s no way back. You can’t ever be what you were before. You’re changed. And you’ll never be forgiven. It’s hard, but the only way through it is to carry on. Your life will be different, but it can be good. In some ways, it’ll be better. But you have to make it a life, not burn everything down because the world burned you first

The fusion felt something. It rose from the pit of his stomach. He recoiled from it, even as the smaller parts leaned into it.

That’s good. Stay with that feeling

No, I don’t want it.

It’s good. It means you’re human

Leave me alone. I want to go home -

He stopped. This wasn’t an alien planet. There was no home to return to. Everything had followed him here.

Adam, you’re not broken. Stay with this

He tried to kick them out. The voices in his head. He controlled reality, he could destabilise this fusion, easy -

It wasn’t working. The voices were tiny, but they held the three of them together, whispering encouragement all the while.

You think either of us is good at this? It only comes with practice. If you’re unforgivable, then forgive yourself

How? How can I be good? Or normal? I’m Satan’s son, he’s in my head, he’s in my head right now -

No. He’s gone. He’s not in here. It’s just you. You don’t have to be him. You can choose what you are

He felt tears dripping down his face. He looked down - a long way down - and saw them splash on the ground in puddles like lakes.

I can make myself human.

Yes

OK.

He reached in and accessed a power.

~*~

Their world blurred.

The past eleven years spooled backwards on three separate tape-reels.

If freezing time was stopping a bullet in mid-flight, this was catching the bullet and being yanked back into the muzzle of the gun.

Crowley’s gnawing despair as Armageddon approached lessened as the boy he was overseeing shrunk from a child to a toddler to a baby in his arms.

Aziraphale, watching the angels prepare their battle armour and muskets, experienced his heart receding from his gullet and back to its proper position. The paperwork on his desk grew back to mountainous.

Adam, tiny on the grass, undestroyed the world. The white wave he unleashed on the planet receded back into his body. Humans regained their minds and resumed shopping and sipping coffee and figuring out how to spend their Saturday. And then the rest of it, his entire life all whipping like a roll of film in the wind, rewinding. He got smaller and smaller, until he could fit in a basket, and the basket passed from Harriet back to the nuns, back to Crowley’s back seat, back to a graveyard, back to Hell -

Adam grabbed at the fabric of reality with a tiny fist and tore.

His gem winked out of existence.

Time made a noise like a record-scratch.

Then it rocketed forward again.

He was back in the basket, on to the hospital, to Sister Mary, to the wrong delivery room, to a man in a very silly cardigan, to -

“You know, Deirdre, I think he looks like an Adam…”

---

(Link to next part)

#omens universe fic #omens universe #good omens #good omens fic #ineffable husbands #steven universe #oh what's that? that is the sound of canon repairing itself

[toomuchofabastard]

Heaven’s Final Betrayal (4/6)

[ << CHAPTER 1 ] [ < CHAPTER 3 ]

Fandom: Good Omens (TV)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Aftermath of Rape/Non-Con, Dissociation, Consensual Anal Sex

Word count: 5,705 (total 15,475)

Fic Summary: It was obvious that Heaven wouldn’t exactly be thrilled about Aziraphale’s role in preventing Armageddon. But neither the angel nor Crowley could have predicted how far they were willing to go to get revenge, and now Aziraphale needs him by his side more than ever.

READ ON AO3

___

This time, Crowley woke to a face full of angel’s chest, the feeling of the carpet brushing against his knuckles, and irritatingly, in spite of his sobriety, a pounding headache. He cracked an eye open and was greeted with a close-up of Aziraphale’s face, looking pensively down at him.

Crowley smushed his face back into the angel’s waistcoat and mumbled something that might have been ‘good morning’. He felt a plump hand run slowly through the back of his hair. When he craned his head back up, Aziraphale was smiling faintly at him. They were still sprawled on the sofa where they’d lain together, bodies pressed close, long into the night. Crowley must have drifted off at some point. Damn it. He’d meant to stay awake as long as the angel was. He hoped he had been alright on his own.

He sat up, cracked his neck loudly, and yawned a little wider than he should humanly have been able to. Aziraphale also rose unsteadily next to him.

“You sleep at all?” Crowley asked.

Aziraphale shook his head. His expression was muted and sombre. He looked tired.

“I was thinking,” the angel replied. “About what you said.” He sighed deeply, a sigh heavy with defeat. “You’re right,” he admitted again. “I can’t keep running away from everything. Burying my head in the sand.”

Crowley rubbed the angel’s thigh fondly.

“It’s going to take some time to come to terms with, that’s all,” said Aziraphale, with fake breeziness. Then he hesitated. “I… I didn’t really believe them capable of such…such…” He didn’t complete the sentence.

“Yeah,” responded Crowley, not really knowing what else to say. That much had been plainly obvious from the way the angel had reacted.

There was an awkward pause. Then Crowley spoke suddenly. “Me neither. For what it’s worth.”

Aziraphale glanced up and laughed lightly, hollowly. “I don’t know whether that makes me feel better or worse,” he said. Then his face settled back into melancholy.

Once again, Crowley didn’t know how to respond. Aziraphale just looked so desperately sad. Over thousands of years, he’d probably seen pretty much every one of the angel’s varied and histrionic repertoire of expressions, but this emptiness and misery broke his demonic heart. Even more so, the thought that there was nothing he could really do to fix it. This wasn’t a situation where he could drop a flippant remark or a line of verse worthy of the bard to light up the angel’s face. He didn’t have the words for this. But he supposed there was one thing he could remind Aziraphale.

“I’m with you,” he said simply.

That brought the angel out of his reverie for a moment. His face softened and he leant into Crowley, the corners of his lips lifting into another genuine smile. Still a shadow of his normal ones, but Crowley felt cheered nonetheless. He hugged him back.

“How ‘bout some breakfast?” he asked after a while.

Aziraphale seemed to contemplate that for a minute, but then he shook his head again. “I’m afraid I’ve… rather lost my appetite.” His face dropped again, his eyebrows pinching with remorse.

Crowley nodded. He supposed that was inevitable, though it still hurt and worried him. It was better than Aziraphale trying to force himself to act like normal, anyway. Fortunately, eating was just a pleasure, rather than a necessity, for them. He was sure they’d get back to it eventually.

He leant closer to Aziraphale again, cupped a hand under his jaw and kissed him softly on his pudgy cheek. “I love you,” he murmured. The angel blinked and smiled up at him again. He laced his hand on top of Crowley’s, eyes closing as he melted into the touch.

“I love you too,” he replied.

◥|⧗|◤

They didn’t do very much for the rest of the day, nor the days following. Aziraphale didn’t express any further interest in leaving the cosy sanctuary of the bookshop, which suited Crowley just fine. The rest of the world could wait. He’d flipped the sign on the door to ‘closed’ the second they’d returned, and as far as he was concerned, it could stay that way indefinitely.

Mostly, Aziraphale pottered about the shop like normal, shuffling books between the shelves in patterns apparently meaningful though inscrutable to Crowley, and sat in his comfy chair and cardigan, thumbing through some old volume, in a blanket of dust. He ignored the phone when it rang. At night, he dimmed the lights so that Crowley could rest, but he stayed awake through until the first beams of sunrise filtered between the window panes and the hubbub on the streets outside started up again.

Crowley watched him closely, and lay around, and dozed, and watched him some more. Occasionally, he tried to kill time by fucking around on his phone (ineffective, it transpired), but he always kept one beady amber eye on the angel.

There was something ghost-like in the way he moved sometimes. Drifting. Untethered. He didn’t hum to himself as he shuffled between the labyrinth of shelves, like he usually did. Crowley missed the humming. His limp seemed to have vanished, at least. Crowley hoped he was healed now. He found himself wondering if Aziraphale would even tell him if he wasn’t.

The angel hadn’t spoken another word about what had happened since that second morning, but Crowley could tell it was still nagging at his mind. He caught him sometimes, staring into the middle distance, deep in thought and with a grave expression on his face. As the days pressed on, blurring into one another, Aziraphale’s mood varied, but didn’t noticeably improve. Sometimes he seemed happy, and Crowley could make him laugh, and it was almost like he had the old Aziraphale back again, like it had never happened. Other times, Aziraphale might have seemed happy to anyone who didn’t know his moods so intimately, but Crowley wasn’t fooled. The fake smiles and cheerfulness returned, despite the angel’s promise.

“Angel, you’re doing it again,” he would say.

“I know, Crowley,” came the tired reply. “Please, just let me have this.”

And sometimes Aziraphale sat and just cried quietly, one hand pressed to his forehead, face marred with grief. Crowley didn’t say anything then, just sat with him in silence and stroked his back until the tears and stifled sniffles stopped. There was nothing left to say, anyway.

It was those times especially when Crowley felt the anger rising within him again. It kept bubbling up at inopportune moments, seemingly unprompted, like molten lava coursing through his arteries, scorching away every other emotion. Damping it back down was a herculean task, and unending, but the last thing he wanted to do was accidentally take it out on Aziraphale. And seeing as the deserving targets of his rage were out of reach - literally - there was nothing to be done with it. He could still feel it though, festering away inside him. Once Aziraphale was better enough that Crowley felt comfortable leaving him alone for a while, he was going to go someplace on his own and scream and howl and claw something - he didn’t know what - to shreds with his bare hands and set whatever was left on fire and watch it burn to ash. It still wouldn’t be enough. But it would help.

Until then, he would be as soft and gentle and patient as he, being a demon, could possibly manage. For his angel. He wouldn’t let him see.

◥|⧗|◤

Hence, he was sprawled out on the sofa one evening, trying not to physically combust, while Aziraphale lingered in the back room, making his first tentative mug of cocoa since it had happened.

It seemed to be taking him longer than Crowley would have thought. When the angel eventually emerged back into the main room and trailed over to where Crowley was sitting, Crowley shifted to face him. The smell of the cocoa wafted into his nostrils and lingered on his tongue, tasting sweet and warm, just like Aziraphale. But as he looked closer, Crowley noticed something.

There were ripples dancing on the surface of the liquid.

“You’re shaking,” Crowley frowned.

“Mm?” responded Aziraphale, blankly. “Oh. Yes.”

He eased himself into the armchair next to Crowley and rested the mug in his lap, glancing vacantly down at it. “Can’t seem to stop,” he muttered. Crowley’s frown deepened.

He leaned forward and tried to catch Aziraphale’s gaze. “Hey.” Aziraphale looked up.

Something was very wrong here. The angel was looking in Crowley’s direction, but as Crowley looked closer, he could see that Aziraphale’s eyes were not actually focusing on his face, but nearer, almost on some invisible plane between them. His gaze was empty. Just like before, Crowley remembered, and dread settled heavy in his stomach.

“Aziraphale? What’s wrong?” he asked, ardently searching those blank eyes for an answer.

The tiniest hint of a crease formed in Aziraphale’s eyebrows. His mouth opened to speak, but for a few seconds no words came out. His eyes drifted away from Crowley’s face and slid aimlessly around the room.

“I… don’t know,” he said eventually, his voice steady but distant. “I feel… strange.” He didn’t say anything further.

Crowley swallowed and tried to stifle the feeling of panic that was starting to rise in his chest. He scanned over Aziraphale’s body, as if searching for a hidden injury, or some clue as to what could have happened, why he was suddenly like this. The wax and wane of the angel’s breast as he breathed seemed a little heavier than normal, but not that significantly. He was still shaking slightly. The cocoa, now rapidly turning tepid, was cradled limply in his lap, like he’d forgotten it was there.

“Angel?” Crowley asked again. Aziraphale turned towards him, and the subtle lines of concern on his face deepened, but his eyes remained blank. His mouth kept moving like he wanted to speak, but couldn’t.

“Angel, please.” Crowley couldn’t keep the falter from his voice.

He clambered out of his seat and closer to Aziraphale. Aziraphale’s hands didn’t resist as Crowley quickly removed the mug to another table, and then grasped them tightly, squeezing in an attempt to get a response from the angel. “I don’t know what to do,” he implored. Still nothing. Shit. Shitshitshit.

In a final desperate attempt to elicit a reaction, Crowley threw himself forward into Aziraphale’s lap, burying his face in his stomach and clinging to him. “Come back,” Crowley whispered. “Come back to me.” He knew he was only talking to himself at this point. The buzzing of panic inside his head made it nearly impossible to think straight. Aziraphale would snap out of this eventually. Right? He had before. He had to. Crowley tried to breathe evenly. He had to.

A few, hideously-long minutes of silence and dread passed, until Crowley suddenly felt Aziraphale’s breathing quicken underneath him. There was a gulp, followed by a quiet, fearful voice. “…Crowley?”

“Oh, thank hell,” Crowley gasped. He looked up at Aziraphale, a dizzying wave of relief washing through him. The angel still looked petrified, but the emptiness in his eyes was gone.

“You scared me, angel,” said Crowley.

Aziraphale said nothing. He was breathing heavily, and his face was now pale and veiled with fear, confusion, and a hint of guilt.

“You were gone. What happened?” Crowley asked.

Aziraphale swallowed again and his forehead creased further with distress. “I-it-it was like… nothing felt… real,” he stammered. “Not even y-you. I-I knew you were,” he added emphatically, “but… it was like I was… disconnected. Everything felt distant. H-hazy. Like I was floating.”

Aziraphale hesitated a moment, and then spoke again. “This, um, this keeps happening.”

“What?” Crowley’s eyebrows shot up.

“N-not as bad as that,” Aziraphale continued, licking nervously at his lips, “but since… you know… sometimes I’ve been feeling s-sort of… detached, and, uh, lightheaded. I don’t know why.”

He turned away from Crowley again, and Crowley saw his chin beginning to tremble. “…Am I losing my mind?” the angel whispered.

“Oh, angel. Why didn’t you tell me?” Crowley sighed.

Aziraphale just shook his head, his face crumpling. Crowley took his hand.

“It’s okay,” Crowley said. He thought for a moment. “D’you know why it was worse this time? Like, what set it off?”

The angel nodded, and bit nervously at his lip. “Th-there’s a book, in the back room,” he began to explain. “Um. Mrs Beeton’s Book of Household Management.”

He stopped.

“…yeah?” asked Crowley after a few seconds of silence, dipping his head.

Aziraphale seemed frozen again for a moment. Then he suddenly blinked back to reality and smiled reflexively, fleetingly, in Crowley’s direction. Crowley’s face darkened and he ran his thumb over the back of Aziraphale’s knuckles as the angel continued.

“Before Armageddon, after the birthday party, they - …Gabriel and S-Sandalphon - they, uh, showed up here to- to check up on me. Well…,” - his voice became hushed and he looked down - “…threaten me, really.” He swallowed loudly again, and Crowley felt a tremble run through his hand. His heart clenched in sympathy.

“Gabriel pretended that he wanted to buy it - the, the book -” Aziraphale continued, and he chuckled weakly, “-and declared it to be pornographic.” He rolled his eyes, making Crowley smirk despite himself. “S-So that we could talk in private, you see,” the angel explained. “They cornered me in the back room… They were standing on either side of me, so I-I-I couldn’t see them both at once, and they were asking all these questions, and Sandalphon was blocking the exit and-” His voice got faster and more breathless as he spoke, until he was almost panting through the words.

“Easy. Easy, angel,” Crowley cut in. “Breathe.”

Aziraphale nodded and his eyes closed. Crowley stroked his back as he wheezed and tried to get his breathing under control. Eventually he seemed to calm, and opened his eyes again.

“So when I saw the book in there, it-it reminded me… ” Aziraphale trailed off again.

He didn’t really need to explain any more. Crowley could intuit the cause and effect easily enough.

He pulled him into another fierce hug.

He’d never known. They’d come here, to Aziraphale’s home, just rocked up unannounced to intimidate him. Backed him into a corner and put the screws on him. Crowley could picture exactly how the ‘conversation’ would have gone. Satan below. Was there no sanctity they wouldn’t violate? Maybe he should have seen it coming after all. No wonder Aziraphale had reacted so badly to the reminder. The undercurrent of the whole situation was sickeningly similar to what had happened in Heaven.

Crowley held him close until they both calmed down. Aziraphale was the one to break the embrace this time, sighing mournfully as he did so. His eyes, half-lidded, dropped back to the floor. Crowley took hold of his hands again.

“I’ll get rid of the book,” Crowley said. That was the least he could do to help.

Aziraphale’s head jerked up. “Don’t destroy it!” he entreated.

Crowley smiled softly. Oh, how he loved this angel. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied. He cupped Aziraphale’s face in his hands and kissed him gently on the forehead. “I’ll take it to a charity shop or something.”

◥|⧗|◤

For now, Crowley hid the book with the theatre programmes, underneath The Sound of Music. No chance of Aziraphale happening upon it there. He might take the opportunity to get rid of that dratted thing too, while he was at it. It was only another reminder of those wankers in Heaven.

The days continued to slip listlessly by, like water gliding off a duck’s back. Now that he knew what to look for, Crowley began to notice when sometimes Aziraphale slipped into that troubling, vacant state. That’s what the whole drifting-around-like-a-ghost thing had been about. How could he have missed that?

The clue was always in the angel’s eyes. Glazed-over, duller than normal. The confirmation was in his response to questions. If he didn’t look over at Crowley, if there was a delay before his response, if the answers he gave were vague and scripted, emptily cheery. He seemed able to carry out his normal routine on the surface - even hold a simple conversation - but challenging that revealed the lack of consciousness underneath.

What worried Crowley the most was the effect this detachment from reality was having on the angel’s memory. Once he snapped out of it, Aziraphale couldn’t always recall what he’d been doing while he’d been in that state. This lead to painful conversations as Crowley had to remind him:

“You read that one yesterday, angel.”

“…Oh?”

“Yeah. You were sitting there for about two hours, I think.”

“I… I don’t remember.” He always looked so distressed and guilty once Crowley pointed it out. “I must have been… ‘away’… I suppose.”

Crowley thought maybe as time passed that the episodes were getting less frequent, but he soon came to realise that some were just so subtle and their routine so established that he had missed them. He hated himself for it.

Aziraphale’s voice, uncertain and fragile, drifted across the bookshop one late afternoon towards him. “Crowley? What… what have we been doing all afternoon?”

“We’ve just been here, angel,” Crowley replied as his heart sank. “You… you’ve been doing things with your books… you were on the computer for a bit…” Aziraphale just nodded hesitantly. Crowley could tell he didn’t recall doing any of that. Guilt and sorrow spiked through him. He should have noticed. Though even if he had, he realised, he couldn’t normally get Aziraphale to snap out of it. He would just stay with him until it stopped. He wished there was more he could do.

Otherwise though, Aziraphale seemed to be getting slowly better. He returned to regular mugs of tea and cocoa, even nibbled on a few biscuits. Cried less, smiled more. Proper smiles, not the previous pale imitations. Damn, Crowley had missed those smiles.

One night, they made their first foray into the outside world for well over a week - at least, as far as Crowley’s flat. Crowley wanted to check up on his plants, which he was sure were mounting some sort of insurrection by now, and it would do the angel good to get out, rather than languishing around the bookshop all day. They ended up staying, and cracking open a bottle or three of something red and alcoholic, collapsing onto the pristine sofa beside each other. It was good to relax a little. Crowley felt the alcohol slowly unwinding him, his body loosening like a string that had been left taut for too long.

Aziraphale got decidedly tipsy, but fortunately drew the line before booze-induced breakdown this time. He was actually… giggly. Crowley could scarcely believe it. He was even further taken aback when the angel suddenly leant close and pressed a quick, sparkling kiss against his unexpectant lips. A bolt of hot lightning seemed to shoot through him. He blinked at Aziraphale in surprise. The angel drew slightly back but kept his face intoxicatingly close to Crowley’s. He gazed up at Crowley, expression hopeful.

Crowley paused, finding himself lost in every detail of the angel’s face. Those blue eyes, locked onto his, so deep sometimes Crowley felt like he was falling into them, drowning in them. The little folds at the corners of the angel’s eyes and every other sketch-like line on his face, from thousands of years of laughter. The way the wine brought a rosy and cherub-like glow to his cheeks, and left a stain, red, on his lips, like rouge. Those lips. Soft, parted, eager. Crowley felt them pulling him inexorably forward, his own mouth parting to match the shape of the angel’s. He held his breath and closed his eyes as they met in the middle, interlocking perfectly together. Fuck, those lips were soft.

Aziraphale returned the kiss, slowly and tenderly, almost reverently. Crowley could taste the Cabernet Sauvignon in his mouth, matching the feeling of it still purring in his own throat. It was like he was drinking him in. The room faded from his awareness as they melted into each other. Crowley raised his hands to caress Aziraphale’s sides, drawing him closer. Aziraphale hummed contentedly and Crowley felt his mouth tighten with a smile as he leaned in and his kisses became firmer. His hand came down to rest on Crowley’s thigh. They felt so consummately fit together, like a set of matching fingerprints, like the quill and paper; made for each other.

As they continued to embrace, Crowley’s hands slowly trailed down Aziraphale’s body to press against his hips. Aziraphale recoiled suddenly and broke the kiss with a small gasp.

“Um, Cr-Crowley,” he stuttered, “I don’t know that I’m ready to-”

Oh, Crowley realised. He thought I meant-

“Hey, no, ’s ok. Didn’t mean anything by it,” Crowley slurred quickly. He reached for Aziraphale’s face and stroked the hair away from his temple with a soft smile. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Aziraphale broke into a matching smile. There were those little creases at the corners of his eyes again. The angel’s gaze floated down to Crowley’s lips, and he leant back in, his mouth seeking Crowley’s once more. Crowley happily met him as Aziraphale reached his arms behind Crowley’s head and crossed his wrists, locking the two of them together. Crowley placed his hands gently back on Aziraphale’s hips and rubbed around them and his lower back in the same rhythm as their mouths moving together. A great feeling of relief and euphoria flooded Crowley’s body as they kissed. This was how things were meant to be. The two of them as one, safe in the home they’d made, finding pleasure and joy in each other. It felt like finally being able to breathe out.

The stereo, neglected in the corner, quietly clicked into life, and began streaming out the mellow strains of whatever soul record Crowley had last left in there. Did he do that? Or were even more sentient machines in his life starting to develop their own opinions about the soundtrack to his and Aziraphale’s love life? Honestly… Crowley was too lost in their own world to give a damn.

They never went further than kisses that night, but around a fortnight later, they were back visiting Crowley’s flat again. Aziraphale had continued to improve in the intervening weeks, and they were back to something close to their normal routine. He’d opened the bookshop to customers again, albeit with much more restricted hours, and Crowley was more content now to leave him to do his own thing. The angel was eating properly again too, though maybe with less delight than normal. The zoning-out was still happening. Crowley hadn’t yet worked out what to do about that.

They found themselves sat on the sofa again, Aziraphale perched in Crowley’s lap, lips on his, and everything was quiet and peaceful. Aziraphale suddenly parted from him and sat back. Crowley raised a quizzical eyebrow at him.

“I think I’m ready to try,” Aziraphale said, fiddling with Crowley’s necktie.

“Try what?”

Aziraphale made a you-know gesture with his eyes and motioned with his head towards the bedroom.

“Oh,” Crowley said. He had wondered when - or indeed if - Aziraphale was going to want to go to bed with him again, but he’d been waiting for the angel to make the first move. He wasn’t actually expecting it so soon.

“You sure?” he asked. Aziraphale nodded.

Crowley couldn’t help but feel tense as they made their way into the bedroom. He didn’t want this going wrong. The weight of what had happened in Heaven seemed to be sitting on his shoulders like some wicked clawed creature, a constant pressing reminder of everything that had changed. But if Aziraphale said he was ready, well, Crowley could only take his word for it.

Aziraphale settled on the edge of the mattress and reclined back, pulling Crowley down by his scarf to lean over him. Hints of the angel’s cologne flickered in Crowley’s senses as their mouths found each other again. Aziraphale was kissing him more forcefully now. Crowley could feel the angel’s determination as his tongue hungrily searched his mouth. His uneasiness slowly began to fade away as he lost himself in the feeling and the smell of him.

Without breaking the kiss, Aziraphale lifted one arm and clicked his fingers. A thrill raced through Crowley as both of their clothes melted away. Aziraphale shuffled backwards, and then lay back on the bed and spread his legs, gazing up at Crowley through his eyelashes. The sight sent hot blood down to pool in Crowley’s already-aching cock. He slunk forward to join Aziraphale on the bed. The angel hooked his legs around Crowley’s waist and pulled him in. A huff of pleasure escaped from Crowley’s lips as their naked bodies came into contact.

It felt like it had been far too long since he’d seen Aziraphale like this. There was a craving aching through Crowley’s whole body: to touch Aziraphale, to explore his whole body with his hands, to massage and knead all the bare flesh on display to him at last. But having only one hand free, he contented himself with running it slowly up and down the angel’s thigh, loving the feel of the strength of muscle underneath all that ample softness. Aziraphale sighed gently. The angel reached a hand down to where they were pressed together and wrapped his hand around both of their cocks, rubbing slowly up and down. He was just as hard as Crowley. Crowley started to buck his hips into Aziraphale’s touch, relishing the waves of arousal the friction brought and the light moans that soon emanated from the angel with every movement. Clearly, the enjoyment was mutual.

Once he was almost-painfully hard, Crowley sat back up and, with a miracle, applied lube along his erection, shivering slightly at the cold. Aziraphale blinked deliberately as he likewise used a miracle to prepare himself. Grasping his cock, Crowley shuffled until he was in position kneeling between Aziraphale’s raised legs, and then he hesitated. He looked up at Aziraphale. The angel was watching his progress intently, his chest rising and falling heavily and mouth parted. He noticed Crowley pause and lifted his gaze, his eyes meeting Crowley’s. He looked nearly as nervous as Crowley felt, but still just as determined. He nodded earnestly at Crowley. Ok, Crowley thought. Here goes.

Aziraphale sighed quietly as Crowley entered him. Crowley let out a low groan and bit his tongue, eyes screwing up with pleasure, and pressed further in, until the tightness of the angel’s body completely enveloped his throbbing cock. Oh, how he had missed this. He’d almost forgotten how utterly divine it felt to be inside him like this. Aziraphale’s hands gripped the sheets at his sides and he moaned again, but it was a sound of pure ecstasy, not a cry of pain this time.

Reassured, Crowley began to fuck him, softly and cautiously at first, but with increasing passion as the exhilaration overtook him. Aziraphale lay back and let himself shift with Crowley’s movements, continuing to moan. After a while, Crowley moved to press down close against him, so that his hair kept flopping down into both of their eyes as he thrust, and their laboured breaths were mingling with each other. Aziraphale’s hands came up to dance lightly across Crowley’s back. Sharp, sweet arousal rocketed up and down Crowley’s spine to his shaft, and he buried his face in Aziraphale’s neck with a strangled groan of “angel…” Fuck, it felt so good. He was losing himself in the sensation, feeling the first hints of his orgasm building, when there was a sudden voice in his ear.

“Crowley… w-wait…”

Crowley froze immediately, and whipped his head up. Aziraphale’s face had gone slack and his eyes were blown wide and blank, staring straight past Crowley. His hands were still rested on Crowley’s shoulders, but the rest of his body had gone completely limp.

“Oh shit,” Crowley gasped. He pulled out as quickly and gently as he could and clambered off of Aziraphale, falling down next to him. “Angel?” he asked, aghast, as he clasped Aziraphale’s face and pulled him to face him. Aziraphale continued to stare, unhearing.

“Bless it,” Crowley hissed under his breath. The angel’s eyes were like two voids of emptiness, completely transparent. This was a bad one. A bad one. The worst he’d seen yet. Makes sense, he thought. But he needed to snap him out of it.

“Hey. Aziraphale,” he urged, massaging the angel’s cheeks. “Look at me. Focus on me.” Nothing. Crowley swore again.

On instinct, he grabbed the angel’s limp hand and pressed it to his chest, holding it there with his own. “Feel that, feel my heartbeat,” he said. Said heartbeat was fluttering and pounding so hard under his ribs that Crowley could practically detect its echoes through Aziraphale’s skin. “Focus on me,” he repeated. “Come back.”

He sat and waited for a response, holding the same position and concentrating intently on Aziraphale’s face, everything else forgotten. He hated being left alone like this, just waiting, with no idea what to do. Minutes trudged slowly by.

Eventually, the angel began to blink and Crowley saw the light return to his eyes, which shifted around as he took in his surroundings again. Crowley watched as he registered where he was and what had happened, and then the angel suddenly let out a little whimpered “oh” and collapsed into a mess of tears.

“Hey, hey, it’s ok,” Crowley said, and took him into his arms, holding him close.

“It’s not,” Aziraphale gasped. “This isn’t what I wanted to happen,” he sobbed into Crowley’s bare chest. “Y-You didn’t even get to…” He stopped, and his eyes flickered meaningfully down to Crowley’s groin.

For a second, Crowley didn’t know what he meant. Then it dawned. “Oh, fuck that, angel!” he exclaimed. “It doesn’t matter!” As if getting off was the main thing on his mind right now.

Aziraphale broke down into sobs again.

“Oh, angel, please don’t cry. It doesn’t matter, it’s ok,” Crowley said, and rubbed at Aziraphale’s face, trying vainly to stem the flow of tears down his cheeks.

This had been a mistake. He wasn’t ready after all. And of course, now he was beating himself up about it. Crowley couldn’t stand the idea of Aziraphale thinking he’d somehow let him down.

“They had to ruin everything, didn’t they?” Aziraphale said, his voice more bitter than Crowley had ever heard it. Crowley didn’t want to tell him that was probably the point, angel.

“I can’t even make love to you anymore,” Aziraphale continued miserably. “What if I never manage to?”

“Then we won’t anymore. It’s alright.”

Aziraphale sniffed. “That’s not fair to you,” he said.

“Look,” Crowley said. He lifted Aziraphale’s face to his and stared him intensely in the eyes. “I survived six thousand years not having sex with you, angel. I can do another six thousand, and six thousand more, however long. Eternity, happily, if that’s what you need.”

Aziraphale gazed at him, misery and love intermingled on his face, but didn’t reply. Instead he just reached for Crowley and curled up around him, still weeping fitfully into him. Crowley cradled him, heart aching, until Aziraphale eventually finished crying and drifted into a deep, exhausted sleep.

Crowley was still cuddling him when they awoke to the light of the morning. Aziraphale blinked sleepily and shifted closer to Crowley, resting his head on Crowley’s ribs. He looked worn out.

“Are we going to talk about last night?” Crowley asked him.

“Why?” Aziraphale said, and he perked up suddenly. “Do you want to try again?” he asked, face eager.

“No!” Crowley snarled with exasperation. “For Satan’s sake, angel. I want to make sure you’re ok.”

Aziraphale’s face fell. “I’m fine, Crowley,” he responded tersely.

“You cried yourself to sleep, angel, you are not fine,” Crowley snapped back, a note of anger slipping into his tone. Aziraphale just closed his eyes and sighed wearily.

Crowley took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. God, why did getting him to admit his feelings have to be like pulling teeth? he thought, though the hypocrisy of the statement wasn’t lost on him.

“Why are you so focused on this as the be-all and end-all of our happiness?” he asked gently.

Aziraphale looked at him and sighed again. “Because… I like having sex with you, my dear. I want to have sex with you. I enjoy this aspect of our relationship,” he said. “And if… if I can’t do that anymore, it’s-it’s like they’ve won. I don’t want this to be another thing they’ve stolen from me. They’ve already taken so much.” His voice wobbled slightly. “I just want to feel whole again,” he finished.

Crowley sighed too. “Ok,” he murmured. “I understand.”

He twisted a finger distractedly through Aziraphale’s shining curls. He could understand that. The struggle to keep something of yourself when everyone around you seemed bent on trying to break you apart. He wanted Aziraphale to be happy again as well.

“Just remember, as far as I’m concerned, you’re already whole,” he reminded the angel. “And… try not to pressure yourself too much, ok?”

Aziraphale smiled weakly and nodded. Crowley hugged him tight.

“You know I’d do anything for you, angel,” he said, trying to make it sound as deeply sincere as he meant it.

“I know,” Aziraphale replied, his voice warm with affection, and squeezed him gently back.

They snuggled together for a few more quiet minutes, and then Aziraphale spoke up, coyly. “Does ‘anything’ include… fresh croissants from the bakery on the corner?”

A smile cracked wide across Crowley’s face. He propped himself up on his elbow and gazed down lovingly at the angel. “Are fresh croissants vital to your continued health and wellbeing, angel?” he asked humorously.

“Well, they are rather,” Aziraphale replied with affected indignation. He blinked up through his eyelashes, pouting slightly.

Crowley smiled again, then bent over and kissed him right on the tip of his upturned nose. He never could resist that face.

“I’ll be right back,” he promised, untangling himself from the sheets. Aziraphale beamed.

#my fanfiction #rape tw #noncon tw #whump #aziraphale!whump #good omens whump #nsfwhump #long post

[ceph-the-mothman]

My first attempt at a fanfic in a long long time. I hope you all like it. It takes place in the AU where warlock runs away to nanny right before the apocalypse. Its about Crowley not wanting to let go. I hope to write more later, partly because this feels unfinished. Love to the community and enjoy! 

P.s. Sorry for any typing errors, this keyboard is broken so I'm doing my best.

As they drove back from the apocalypse non starter, rumpled and tired the two sat in silence. The only noise a soft breathing from the back as warlock slept away. The motion of the car lulling him to sleep after all the excitement. Aziraphale was the one to break the silence “Crowley, I thought we were taking young warlock home?” He had been staring out the window most of the time as the countryside sped by. He normally didn’t like when Crowley drove so fast but today had enough excitement, and he was quite done worrying. So he didn't. But as he looked out the window he could tell that they were nowhere near the Dowling residence. He couldn't tell where they were but it seemed to be nowhere in particular. There was also no reply from Crowley.

 Maybe he was tired, maybe he didn’t her Aziraphale. As he turned to ask again he finally saw Crowley. His hands holding fast to the wheel, knuckles white. He had what to Aziraphale looked like tunnel vision, focused on a point ahead yet not nearby. “Crowley? Are you alright my dear?” Still no response. Now he was starting to worry. He reached out to gently touch Crowley’s shoulder to gain his attention. “Dear, are you alright?” It was said with a little more worry than was intended but Aziraphale thought if it got the job done he could live with it. 

At Aziraphale’s touch Crowley’s train of thought crashed, and swerved in reality, forcing a small profanity from Aziraphale. Afterwards Crowley decreased his speed to just over the speed limit and seemed back in his thoughts again if not closer to earth this time. Unbeknownst to them Crowley also woke warlock from his sleep if only for a second. “Try to stay on the road dad.” Warlock mumble as he drifted off to sleep again.  Aziraphale and Crowley sat in surprise at that. At least Aziraphale thought it was surprise for Crowley. 

After checking on warlock he turned back around. “Well that was odd, must have been dreaming. Poor dear” Aziraphale said warmly.

In place of answering Crowley slowed the car further and pulled off the country road. Gently resting on the steering wheel, full of tense exhaustion Crowley turned his head to Aziraphale. He could see just a hint of tears at the edge of his sunglasses. Aziraphale’s heart melted at the site of his demon so torn up. After a sharp breath Crowley finally spoke quietly “I don’t want to bring him back angel” the tears starting to creep down his cheeks. “I didn’t know I missed him until he showed up in the Bentley, and now he’s here and he’s gotten so big. I know we check on him but it’s different seeing it up close” tears running down his face now. 

He was a mess and  broke Aziraphale’s heart in two. 

He reached out to Crowley then hesitated thinking of Heaven, then remembering that heaven (and hell for that matter) could just fuck off. With that thought Aziraphale slid closer to Crowley gently guiding him to his side. Crowley, stiff at first, relaxed into his angel taking a few shaky breaths. As he relaxed, his hands dropped from the steering wheel one falling to his lap the other gently attaching to Aziraphale’s coat. 

“Hush, dear, it’s going to be alright” Aziraphale soothed into Crowley’s hair gently stroking the demons back while holding him close. 

After a bit Crowley was breathing normally and had sunk deeper into the soft angel beneath him. 

In a much steadier voice this time he said “I... I don’t know if I can give him back. They don’t even notice him most of the time. If they do its short or because he's done something they approve of. He deserves to be with someone that loves him” 

“I’m sure they love him Crowley” Aziraphale said warmly. But he knew what Crowley ment. He knew Crowley was soft on the boy, and he had seen enough while masquerading as a gardener to know that Crowley’s concern wasn’t unfounded. 

“Yeah, I’m sure you're right” Crowley breathed, straightening himself and moving back into the driver's seat, not sounding very convinced.

Aziraphale could feel the sadness and longing pouring out of Crowley even without his angelic powers. He hated seeing him like this, but what could they do? Warlock wasn’t theirs to keep. Even Aziraphale had to admit he was tempted to keep the boy as well. Lately he had seemed distant from his parents whenever they had checked up on him from a distance. He couldn’t stop himself from thinking how wonderful it had been when they were the nanny and the gardener. Warlock used to help in the garden, would bring Aziraphale bugs and small things and Aziraphale would tell him what he knew of the new found treasure. But no, he wasn’t their child and he had to go back to his parents.

But before Aziraphale could say as much there was a drowsy voice from the back seat that surprised them both. “I don’t want to go back either” at this Crowley finally turned off the Bentley and the two turned around to look at him. There sitting in the back with his hair sticking up from a nap was warlock looking at them with a seriousness mastered by few but Adam. 

“I don’t want to go back.” This time said matter of factly. Aziraphale stumbled over his words and Crowley just stared at warlock, because his boy needed to be listened to. “Hush angel, kids talking” slightly affronted Aziraphale stopped stammering and gave warlock his undivided attention.

“Like I said, I don’t want to go back. But I do understand that you can’t just keep me, there are laws and I don’t want you to become kidnappers. But.. I was happiest when you two were around. You were always there more than my parents. I seem more like a bother to them than a son.” This last part broke both of their hearts. “But, with you, I felt wanted and loved.” Warlock was looking away now and blushing as young people are inclined to do when they share emotions. 

“What about Matilda?” Warlock said after a pause “you know, that movie about the girl who likes books and had horrible parents?” 

They did remember. That was a movie that nanny put on for warlock as a child. It was about a child seeking knowledge and asking questions. Plus the child had supernatural powers just ass they thought warlock would have. Aziraphale had liked how much she read. 

“What about it hell spawn?” Crowley asked, his heart in his throat. Not daring to take over, it had to come from warlock. Crowley couldn’t make the choice for him Aziraphale was right. 

“Well the teacher adopts Matilda because her parents are awful and they’re happy.”

Aziraphale beams “What a wonderful idea!” 

With that they’re back on the road a little planning along the way. When they get to the Dowling residents it all becomes a blur. Warlock sits his parents down and tells them how it’s going to be and Aziraphale makes sure they actually hear him out. Albeit, a bit more magically. By the end of the day the three of them are back in the car on their way to Crowley’s since the bookshop is a pile of ash. 

The next day passes quickly. The new parents stash warlock at Crowley’s with and extra blessing from Aziraphale for good measure. After all Anges Nutter had warned them that heaven and hell were coming and they were not wasting any time.

@eldritch-core-baby @top-crowley-central Because I said I would!

#Aziraphale #Crowley #warlock dowling #my fanfic #good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfic #Cnidra writes

[james-flint]

anon, i’m just gonna go ahead and assume you mean good omens

honestly, i’m not the best person to ask this because even though i read A Lot of fic i always forget to bookmark them. but i’ll try

first of all, if you somehow haven’t read a single fic yet and decide to choose just one from this post please read this one

how big the hourglass, how deep the sand by Handful_of_Silence

After the Apocalypse, and with characteristic slowness, both Crowley and Aziraphale think there might be something they need to sit down and talk about. And then Aziraphale disappears.

i know, it’s a classic. I always enjoy a good angsty fic and this one literally gave me chest pain, like every sentence punched me in the guts. and oh my god…… the Writing….. it’s just so beautifully written. AND it has a happy ending because we don’t read any others in this house. so good time all around

it also has a sequel and it’s equally amazing

other than these, i’m just slowly making my way through sorted by kudos page on ao3 so you might have seen all of these in other people’s recs but i’ll put them here anyway

In the (Second) Beginning by cherryfeather

As their lunch stretches on Aziraphale slowly comes to realize that Crowley is—enjoying him. Enjoying Aziraphale’s conversation, and company, far more openly than he has in most of Aziraphale’s memory. And Aziraphale knows that he himself is just chattering on, letting conversational tangents carry him along, and—it’s definitely relief, for him, knowing for the first time in a long time that they aren’t being watched, that no one is keeping score for now.

such surpassing brightness by Handful_of_Silence

The revelation that Aziraphale might have been in love with him for thousands of years is surprising. The fact that literal books have been written on the subject comes as even more of a shock.

basically all of this author’s works are my favourites

you knew my name on sight by brinnanza

“This wasn’t me, you know,” Crowley says, the words out of his mouth before he’s made the conscious choice to utter them. “Not just the library, but the whole civil war. You know me; I’ve mostly been getting drunk at Bacchanals.” “I know,” says Aziraphale.

and, so on by PaintedVanilla

Crowley doesn’t remember heaven, but Aziraphale remembers him.

uuuuhhhh this one!!! it has a mature rating but if you can maybe skip just one scene it’ll be so worth it i promise. a masterpiece

listen (he’s already told you five times) by darcylindbergh

Not everything Crowley says is said out loud. Aziraphale doesn’t always hear him at first, but he’s learning to stop being surprised.

how to get smote: 101 by ineffablemercury 

He’d made the mistake of kidnapping an angel. And not just any angel, no, but one who apparently had a demon on its side. Dammit.

this has an outside POV and protective crowley. i literally don’t need anythig else

On The Matter Of Touch by Somedrunkpirate

“On the matter of touch,” Crowley begins, waving his teaspoon in what he hopes passes for idle curiosity. “Thoughts?” For two ineffable husbands, they don’t really touch each other much. Here is a story on why that might be.

somebody recommended this fic on a post with my favourite art and want to thank them

a city wall and a trampoline by kafkian

In their cottage in the South Downs, when Crowley eventually succeeds in getting Aziraphale to use a laptop, it takes Aziraphale literal hours to get past the default Windows screensavers of picturesque locations because ‘oh, look, isn’t it lovely, Crowley!’

all i need, darling, is a life in your shape by deadgreeks

After everything, Aziraphale and Crowley, by unspoken agreement, begin sharing their lives.

Four times Crowley called Aziraphale “sweetheart” without noticing (and One time he did) by TheLadyZephyr

“Sweetheart” (1290) - A person who is very dear to another; one who is loved. From sweet (adj.) + heart (n.)

Over the years, Crowley has called Aziraphale “sweetheart” on at least four different occasions. He just hasn’t actually noticed himself saying it.

Any Other Name by mostlyanything19 (halfanapple)

What if Aziraphale’s name was originally “Aziraphael”, in keeping with the conventional spelling and pronunciation of other angel names, but because of its divine nature, Crowley is physically unable to say it out loud.

here i am, leaving you clues by Lvslie

It’s all the same burning bookshop, and I’m always inside shouting your name.

Stars Above You by Demorra (thebibliosphere)

“We can run away together,” he’d said, “Alpha Centauri, lots of space up there, no one would even notice us…”

Show/Tell by walkalittleline

It took Aziraphale approximately five thousand nine hundred and forty-five years—give or take a few months—to fall in love. It didn’t take Crowley nearly as long.

such selfish prayers by Lvslie

Crowley, while still apparently comatose, had somehow managed to wrap himself so thoroughly around Aziraphale on their way up, that any attempt at dropping him onto the mattress without being pulled down as well proved futile. And hence, quite defeated, Aziraphale found himself lying in a warm tangle of Crowley and blankets. He felt a little stunned.

you smiled (and it broke my heart) by TheIndianWinter

Aziraphale attempted a smile for him, but it was too sad to really be a smile.(Over the course of millennia, Crowley had grown quite familiar with the angel’s smiles. From the reluctant ones that tweaked at his lips after an off-colour remark from the demon, to the full-blown beatific expression of pure angelic joy that did strange things somewhere in the vicinity of Crowley’s stomach. He knew Aziraphale’s smiles. This was not one of them.)

“I’m thinking of closing the bookshop,” he said.

good for the soul by singingtomysoul

Aziraphale doesn’t feel guilty, for once, but has some things to confess. Crowley doesn’t think he has guilt, and doesn’t plan to confess anything. On both counts, he’s wrong.

the still point of the turning world by punkfaery

Crowley has an existential crisis. Aziraphale attempts to pick up the pieces.

Everybody Knows but You by writer_zo

Everyone seems to believe that Crowley and Aziraphale are in love. Everyone, however, has to be wrong, because (as Crowley knows) an angel could never love a demon and (as Aziraphale knows) a demon could never love an angel.

Snakes and Stones (Never Broke My Bones) by DeerstalkerDeathFrisbee

“How many people don’t believe I exist?” Crowley asks in the doorway. “I’m sure no – ” Aziraphale begins, only to be cut off by Gabriel and a reluctant Newton. “Everyone.”  

No one wants to say it, but the residents of Dorm A, floor 3, are collectively convinced Aziraphale Fell’s boyfriend does not exist. This is their story.

honestly never would have thought that I would read an au for this pairing and a college one at that but here we are

Inevitable, unavoidable by Lilian

Aziraphale gets amnesia and thinks Crowley is his husband when he sees him.

it’s exactly like that old video but with feelings

there are many more good fics that i forgot to add or haven’t read myself yet but these are the ones that stuck with me

#i accidentally deleted the ask so we just have to do it like this #all of these should be sfw but i’m sorry if i missed anything #read hourglass!!! #i know everyone has already but i wanted to scream about it for a month so #i thought there would be less but i went crazy i went stupid i'm sorry #there are so many good fics i owe the authors my life #anonymous #long post #good omens #fic rec #also anon why did you not specify what pairing you meant? when did this become a gomens blog? when......

[itsyaboiwritersblock]

Until We Meet Again

Pairing(s): Crowley x Female Human Reader

Rating: T

Warnings: Language, Angst, Implied Smut, Ducks

Words: 2,857

Genre: Angst, Drama

Part three of: “Won’t Say I’m in Love” and “Beauty and the Beast”

@pantaxbal @a-hoe-for-vanya @the-captain-kidd

I do not own the GIFs, characters, or song

The song is the “Aloha ‘Oe” from the movie “Lilo and Stitch″

“Oh, excuse me, miss? Do you work here?”

A sheepish voiced broke her out of the blank haze she was in, almost startling the book out of her hands. But nevertheless, she plastered on a fake smile and turned to the customer with a twinkle in her eye.

“Why, yes I do! Is there something you need help with, dear sir?”

The older man couldn't help but seem baffled by this young woman’s manners, which pulled him into the fake act further. He returned a smile of his own and took a step closer to the employee.

“Do you sell any true crime-”

“No, sorry.”

The man blinked, startled by the woman’s sudden snap at him, and instead of reacting the way he truly wanted to, he widened his smile and asked again.

“I’m sorry, maybe you misheard. I asked if you sold any true crime books.”

“And I said no, we don't, slimy old man.”

In truth, {Y/N} didn't have such an attitude, but when Aziraphale requested that he actually didn't want to sell any books at his shop, she stuck with the tactic of just scaring them away with her horrible act.

“Slimy? Young miss, that is no way to talk to someone! Now, one of my friends the other day told me that she had purchased a wonderful true crime book from here and I would like to do the same.”

“Your friend is absolutely off her rocker if she thinks she got one from here. If she’s around her age, I wouldn't blame her for mixing things up. Now, get lost and have a wonderful day sir!”

With that, the man mumbled a few choice words under his breath and stormed out of the shop, giving {Y/N} the opportunity to flip the sign in the door to “closed.” Aziraphale had ran to his study hours ago, trusting {Y/N} to keep his books safe from any humans.

This had been her new normal for the past year, really. Watch the shop for Aziraphale during the day, and in turn, he would keep her safe and let her live with him. Normally, {Y/N} would have been fine at her own flat, but, ever since Crowley’s disappearance, Aziraphale suggested she stay with him. Initially, she laughed it off, saying she could protect herself from any ballsy thug that tried to hurt her. That's when he told her she couldn't exactly fend off the forces of Hell.

Now that, that got her attention. And that was when she found out her dear Crowley was a demon, one that was once highly praised too. And of course, her best friend Aziraphale just so happened to be an angel, well, not any angel, a Principality at that! 

It was a lot of information for her to take in at once, in fact, when the angel first told her, she gave him a laugh before promptly passing out. And when she woke, she was greeted with the sight of two large, and obviously glowing, wings. Aziraphale gave her a rushed apology and quickly began to take care of her, while once again going over everything, but going slow this time.

That was how her current situation started, once she realized that actual beings of Hell would be looking for her because of Crowley, she began trusting Aziraphale more and more. Her life was in his hands, and truthfully she wouldn't have had it any other way.

“{Y/N} dear, have you closed up for the day?”

The angel’s voice carried down from the upper floor, causing her to smile because as soon as she told him the shop was indeed closed, he peeked his head out of the door. Eyes that were hiding behind glasses were wide, obviously from fear, he was really glad that {Y/N} was so comfortable with dealing with his customers.

“I’m going to grab some dinner, want me to get you something?”

Watching his expression change was priceless, a smile immediately overtook the frown that was on his pale features and he nodded enthusiastically.

“Okay, angel dork, I’ll be back later!”

{Y/N} grabbed her keys and coat before heading out the shop door and slipping into the familiar older black car and speeding away. The stereo softly played some random Queen song she already knew by heart, she could quote all of them at this point. 

Back at the shop, Aziraphale was startled from his work when he heard the little bell of his shop door ring, indicating that a customer had entered after closing hours. The angel groaned and pushed himself up from his chair, rushing down the stairs while he shouted at the intruding person.

“I apologize, maybe you didn't see the sign! I’m afraid we’re closed so if you. . .”

He trailed off, almost tripping over his feet as his heart seized in his chest for a moment. Was what he was seeing true? It couldn't be, right?

“I’m back, angel. Is my Dove around?”

The first thing {Y/N} heard when she walked into the shop was the sound of voices suddenly grew more hushed.

“Aziraphale? Is everything all right? I got sushi from that place you like down the road!”

She called out, but she didn't get a response, save for a muffled curse and the sound of panicked shuffling from the angel’s study. Frowning, she started ascending the stairs, bag abandoned on the floor as she reached for her coat pocket where a canister of pepper spray sat, ready to be used on any attacker.

“{Y/N} darling! I didn't expect you back so soon-!”

“Who’s in there, Aziraphale?”

“Pardon?”

Not waiting for an answer, her hand grabbed the small can in her pocket and she marched through the door of his study. But, in an instant, the object dropped from her hand, the clattering noise going unnoticed as she stared up at the bright yellow eyes she still loved.

“I’m home, Dove.”

The demon stepped forward and opened his arms, inviting his human into a hug. She accepted immediately, wrapping her arms around his thin frame, his own arms coming around to hold her now shaking body.

“Shh shh, it’s okay {Y/N}, I’m here.”

“You. . . You left me! You asshole, you left!”

She sobbed, weakly trying to pound her fists into his chest, but Crowley didn't react, knowing he deserved every once of anger that she was giving him.

“I had to, {Y/N}, I needed to keep you safe.”

For a moment, neither of them said anything, her head pressed into his chest, trying to calm down her breathing after sobbing like that. They both knew that Aziraphale was watching from the doorway, nervous about the reunion that was going on, ready to intervene at any moment if it was absolutely needed.

“Crowley?”

“Yes, Dove?”

“Can you say it?”

They both knew what she meant, but honestly, he was scared, not that he was scared he didn't mean it. He was scared it wouldn't mean anything to her, even if he never formally told her.

“Please?”

“I love you, {Y/N}.”

She couldn't help the smile that creeped along her features, causing her to bury her face in his chest further. Just hearing those words caused her heart to clench, because she could tell that he meant it.

“Now you have to say it back, {Y/N}.”

“I love you. I love you, I love you so much Crowley.”

“I love you more, you know.”

The human couldn't help but giggle, standing up on her tip toes to press her hips to his, feeling slim arms snake around her hips and pull her closer to him. Both of them had been ignoring the angel at this point, figuring he would have done the same, but it was the opposite, really, he couldn't look anywhere but at the two in front of them, focusing on one more than the other.

“Crowley, I think that is physically impossible.”

“Oh? Why don't I take you on a date tomorrow to prove my love then?”

The banter had started immediately when the two broke apart from the kiss, Crowley puffing his chest out in pride, convinced he could show his woman how much he loved her even if she wore a smug, unconvinced grin.

“All right, it’s a date then.”

In the morning, {Y/N} woke up bright and early, and already next to a grinning Crowley, who was idly tracing patterns on her hip with his finger.

“Did you really stay up all night watching me?”

“My dear Dove, I don't need to sleep.”

She couldn't help but giggle like that before swinging her legs off the side of the bed. It was a blur after that, she got ready as quick as she could still managing to dress up in a casual sundress and a light layer of makeup before Crowley was ushering her out of the door.

“So, where are we going, Crowley?”

“I figured we could spend a day at the park, and I already have everything packed in my car, so there’s no need to worry about that.”

He sent her his signature wink before the two slid into his car, realizing that there were a lot more miles on it than he remember, when he glanced over at {Y/N}, she couldn't help but pull a guilty expression.

“When you left, it was all I had left of you. . . I wanted to stay close to you somehow so. . . I drove it everywhere.”

She spoke through tears, voice cracking every once in a while, but the whole time she still remained smiling.

“Oh, Dove. . .”

He leaned in but she shooed him away with a playful grin, he looked hurt, of course, but she quickly recovered the moment.

“Ah, none of this sad stuff! We’re supposed to be having a date day!”

Crowley couldn't help but chuckle at her antics, giving her hair a quick ruffle before shifting the car into gear and driving it off. It was a short trip to the park, and when the two arrived, Crowley was glad he picked the park as the place for them to spend their date together.

“Crowley! It’s such a gorgeous day! You couldn't have picked a better day!”

She was facing the water when she exclaimed this, watching the sun hang high in the sky, so she missed Crowley’s grimace at his words.

“Let’s make the most of it then, right Dove?”

When she whipped around with a bright grin, he knew he said the right thing. His chest felt warm as he grabbed her hand and pulled her to an empty bench. He was grinning as he pulled out a basket from seemingly nowhere and set it on his lap, reaching inside to pull out a small bag filled with bread crumbs.

“I know this seems cheesy, but. . . I figured it could be fun?”

“It’s not cheesy! I love feeding the ducks! They’re so cute! Some ducklings hatched recently and Aziraphale wouldn't stop gushing over them!”

{Y/N} giggled, reaching her hand into the bag to toss out a handful of crumbs, watching the ducks eagerly run up and peck at what she threw on the ground. With a bright smile, Crowley copied her actions, tossing his own handful down, and the two continued this until the bag was empty. At that point, the two were giggling uncontrollably, watching the hoard of ducks rush over to the two to get a small bite of what they threw down. But when everything was finished, the ducks were still waddling over to them, watching them with expectant eyes. The human thought this was especially cute, well, until they started pecking at her shoe and started running after them as soon as the two stood up from the bench.

{Y/N} looked up at Crowley with a bright smile, even if she was out of breath from sprinting across the park, she was still convinced that it was the best date she had ever been on.

“Damn ducks! Never knew something so cute could be so scary.”

“I could say the same thing about you, Crowley.”

{Y/N} replied without a moment of hesitation, grin splitting wide when she saw Crowley sputtering and a bright red blush covering his features. He was going to snap something back at her but, that's when he felt it. A gentle raindrop hitting his nose, and that was all the warning they got before it started downpouring. With a shrieked giggle, {Y/N} grabbed Crowley’s hand and pulled him to the car, both out of breath and still laughing by the time they got there.

“So much for a date to prove my love, huh?”

“Oh, Crowley. . . You never need to prove your love to me. How about we go home and binge some movies?”

“Disney movies?”

“You know me so well.”

By the time they got home, the rain had only worsened and they were greeted by the sight of a startled and confused angel. When he asked what in the world had happened to the lovebirds, they could only answer in giggles as they glanced to each other. No other words were shared as {Y/N} tugged Crowley by the arm up to her room Aziraphale has made when she started living with him.

“Oh! Crowley, your clothes! We should-”

{Y/N} was cut off by the sound of a short snap and in an instant, their clothes were miraculously dry, which caused {Y/N} to gape in amazement.

“So, Dove, what movie were you planning on this time?”

“Toy Story!”

She seemed fairly excited because as soon as Crowley asked the question, she was already holding a stack of cases in her hand, and on the top was Toy Story.

“As much as I love how excited you are, Dove. I’ve already seen it.”

“No problem! We can just watch the second then!”

She replied without missing a beat, already sliding the disk into the player before jumping onto her bed with an excited giggle, patting the space beside her, inviting Crowley to sit next to her. He slid next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders before silently letting the movie play.

The two stayed like that for what felt like forever, just staying in each other’s arms not saying a word. It was Crowley that broke the moment, actually, gently grabbing {Y/N}’s chin and tilting it up so her eyes could meet his gaze. His lips met hers, and for the rest of the night, the only thing the two could focus on was each other, not the movie, nor a flustered angel that was embarrassed by the noises he could hear.

“I want things to stay like this forever.”

He hummed in response to her statement, both exhausted and wishing for sleep, well, {Y/N} wishing for sleep and Crowley just wanting rest. For the rest of the night, she stayed in his arms, warm, content, and loved. She savored the feeling for as long as she could, because in the morning, she woke up cold and feeling as lonely as she just a few days before.

Forcing herself out of bed, she stared at the floor with heavy lidded eyes before sniffing once, trying to keep an onslaught of tears at bay. Despite the fact that she wasn’t wearing anything, she stood up, wrapped a robe around herself and marched down the stairs. She knew that Aziraphale would be at the farmer’s market at this time, and there was no way he would keep the shop open when he wasn't there. So, she wandered into the makeshift kitchen and planned her breakfast, well, not before plugging in her phone to the speaker the angel had in there just for her.

“Haʻaheo e ka ua i nā pali.”

{Y/N} blankly wandered around the kitchen as she listened to the song play, despite that it wasn't in English, she knew what the meaning was, and it already hit way too close to home. She grabbed a pan and gently set it on the stove, listening to the soft song continue for a bit, all the while her heart ached at the sound of the lyrics.

“E hahai (uhai) ana paha i ka liko.”

And that’s when it started, just as a sniffle, scrunching her nose at the fact that she couldn't keep it together for just a moment. But the chorus was what really caused it all.

“Aloha ʻoe, aloha ʻoe.”

At this point, she let out a small sob, feeling her small frame beginning to shake and tremble as she eventually fell to her knees. She openly cried, the heels of her hands digging into her eyes as she practically screamed and sobbed out everything she felt.

“Until we meet again.”

Usually, music would make her happy, make her smile, especially that lyric. It would have given her hope, that she would, once again, see the man that she loved. But with how she was feeling right now, she wasn't sure if she ever wanted to see him again, not if he was going to just leave without explanation.

NOTE: Aha! I hope this is okay, this was supposed to be the final part, but I had so much planned I just couldn't fit it into part three, so I’m splitting it and this is getting a part four. I hope you all liked it! See y’all in part four or- maybe in something else if I need a break from this dramatic POS :’)

#crowley x reader #good omens #good omens x reader #good omens reader insert #reader insert #crowley x reader good omens #anthony j crowley #crowley good omens