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malereader-inserts · 5 years

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How to Date a Human

Fandom: Good Omens Pairing: Crowley x Male!Reader x Aziraphale Summary: You have to admit, they’re pretty good boyfriends - you just wonder how they do it. Word Count: 2,568 A/n: I know I said I’ll do Mikaelsons for today, but I wanted to do this as a self-indulgent fic. I also said this would be a series but I decided against it also you’re a badass hunter with added upgrades lol, my mind is wild and I can’t stop until I write it. Might do a part two of this tho just to keep me happy

Part Two

When they met you, they thought you were the most adorable human being to ever exist, as they progressively got to know you, you were more dangerous than they thought, at least for a human.

You were a hunter, a pretty good one whilst you’re at it, known throughout the supernatural. You don’t associate yourself with angel business and demon stuff was sketchy that admittedly, you’ve had your share of run-ins. The supernatural was a nightmare for the almighty and the fact that a human was keeping it sane, on the down low and in control. God, herself, praised you for your work and decided to gift you.

You were, after all, her favourite human.

So, you became immortal but the catch was that you still have to experience everything a human does and if you were to get injured, you cannot be healed, if you were to go to a witch.

You’ve been dating Crowley and Aziraphale for some time now, six months of dating and a year of being friends with you. They’ve told you their secret and you’ve told your part. You three had no secrets to hide away from each other.

Other than, the fact the two have a rule book they’ve written just about you. Affectionately called “How to Date a Human.” They have a lot of details, in case if they forget to take care of you seeing you are still human and therefore a little bit more fragile. Death is easier to grab you despite your immortality. You were immortal, not invincible.

You’d never admit, when the two were off busy for the week, you found the book. You found it touching and put it back in its place after reading some of its contents. (and yes, it does have an index page, made by Crowley himself.)

1. Make sure (Y/n) gets enough sleep.

This was the first rule made in the book, the two had noticed that you were seeing them more tired to the point you could fall asleep at your feet. You’ve out and about will latest hunts and peace treaties, they weren’t exactly knowing your sleeping pattern and they haven’t seen you for two weeks. But, from your dark eye bags and frequent yawning

They kept giving each other side-eyes, watching you sway in the middle of the bookshop.

“Alright, that’s it!” Crowley exclaims, holding you firmly at the shoulders.

“Hmh, what?” You asked, yawning, your eyes slowly shutting and then opening.

“Come ‘ere!” Crowley pulls you by the arm.

“Be careful with him, my dear boy!” Aziraphale exclaims, following the two of you into the back room.

Crowley flops onto the sofa, then tugging you down, catching you effortlessly as you lie on top of him. Aziraphale chuckles as he kneels by you, stroking your hair as you sighed wistfully. You slowly snaked your arms around Crowley and pressed yourself closer, earning a chuckle from him.

Slowly you fell asleep, the even breathing escapes you as Crowley and Aziraphale smiled at each other at their exhausted human. That was the first time they have seen you so exhausted.

Then it became a habit, Aziraphale had to lead you to the backroom whenever you turned up and he could see your shoulders heavy with tiredness, he’ll close the shop and hold you dear to him as he reads to you. Crowley would let you sleep in the Bentley, sometimes, if you’re around about, he’ll drive around in circle hoping it lulls you to sleep.

They always call you up at night to make sure you’re in bed and talk at you until they hear your snores.

They make sure to keep track of your sleeping habits, making sure you don’t oversleep but when needed they leave you be. You appreciate it, really you do, time is no longer a problem for you anymore but your health is always a top priority for them.

Plus, the love seeing you sleepy you get more affectionate.

“How much sleep have you gotten last night, love?” Crowley asked just as you enter the bookshop with a cheerful smile, “By the looks of it, enough.”

“You worry too much,” You teased as you squeezed his cheeks.

“We worry just the right amount, and rightly so,” Aziraphale mentions shutting a book he was right in - the start of the rule book dedicated to you, wagging his finger at you as you beamed at him.

“I know,” You hummed, “And that’s why I love you two.”

2. Make sure (Y/n) eats.

Not your fault you forget to eat, when you’re busy and lose the track of time you forget to eat. And when you do, it’s not necessarily healthy.

“I got’s to go,” You say, pulling your bag over your shoulder as Aziraphale knits his eyebrows together.

He had noticed you had just woken up, your hair still dishevelled and shirt ruffled, you kissed his temple as he looks at you questioningly, a slimy little bastard with his judgmental look.

“What?”

“You haven’t eaten breakfast!” The angel asserts loudly as you shake your head, heaving out a sigh heavily.

“I’ll eat, I promise!” You say, kissing him again, “Bye, honey!”

You slam the door of your apartment, leaving the angel terribly confused. By the looks of it, you were going too busy for the day so there was no point in expecting you to join Crowley and Aziraphale to lunch that day. Whilst Aziraphale was busy during the night, Crowley was there at your apartment for your arrival.

“Heya darling!” You waved, passionately kissing him upon entrance, “How’s your day?”

Crowley shrugs his shoulders, “Could be better, hunter,” As he watches you pull off your shoes as he narrows his eyes towards you, “Angel told me to ask about what you’ve eaten today.”

“Oh,” You paused, “I haven’t.”

“You’re stupid,” Crowley announced, standing up and throwing the shoes you’ve just pulled off, “Come on we’re getting McDonald's.”

You looked at him blankly, “I don’t want McDonald's.”

“Well, do you have food here?” He snaps at you, you looked unphased as you crossed your arms over your chest like a little child, “Exactly, that’s mah point!”

“I want Subway,” You say, pouting as he raises his eyebrow above his sunglasses, “What? It’s healthy!”

“Heugh-!” He splutters and he starts making his classic noises as you wait for him to finish his outburst, “Healthy!? If I recall you haven’t eaten food and you’re talking about being healthy!”

“I...Yeah?” You sounded unsure but you could feel your demon glaring daggers at you as he yanks your arm, “Wait! I haven’t put my shoes on!”

With ease, he flings you over his shoulder, grumbling as you crossed your arms over your chest as Crolwy have a hold of your shoes.

“Nice arse, babe.”

“Hey!” Crowley exclaims, but you couldn’t see there was a smug smile on his face as he puts you into the passenger seat and gives you your shoes.

You hated being in the car when Crowley drove and you always try and not get weirded out as he watched you eat. You huffed as you wiped your mouth and finished your foot-long sub before he pushed over six inches sub towards you.

“Hey, don’t glare at me, if it was Aziraphale he would be taking you out for a three-course meal,” Crowley shrugs as he picks up the sub and tries to force-feed you.

“I will bite you.”

“Do it, I dare you,” He hissed, knowing that he was challenging you behind his sunglasses.

You snatched the sub out of his hand and munched away with a mouth full of food., “You haven’t told Ariza, have you?”

“Manners!” You jumped at the new voice, you huffed as Aziraphale sits down in between you and Crowley. You give him a tight smile as he looks at you with a stern look, “You’re unbelievable!”

“I forgot!”

“It’s substantial for a human, sweetheart, only an idiot would-”

“I already heard this from Crowley, I don’t need your bitchness,”

“You will get it-”

“Uh no-”

The three of you started to bicker as you continue to eat, since then, Aziraphale makes sure you text you incisively to eat and gives you disapproving looks when you’re eating unhealthily, though he will always make room for dessert with you.

3. If he returns injured, DO NOT scowl at him (if needed; do it lightly) and always tend to him because he would not do it himself

It was clear to the boys that you sometimes come home minorly injured, some cuts and bruises you couldn’t handle. They wish they could miracle it away but due to your agreement, you have to suffer.

So, every wince, every huff of pain, each complains, they also have to suffer with you. They hated seeing you in pain, even if was nothing. Sometimes you try to hide it but one of them always catch on.

However, the first time you came home with more than minor injuries. The two freaked out. You were gone for some expedition to calm down some werewolves and you had silver to warn them. You were sure you stopped the bleeding of the scratch, and you were luckily not bitten as you slowly make your way to your apartment, not noticing the Bentley parked nearby.

You opened the door of your apartment and stepped in, tiredly looking at your boyfriends.

You put your bag down and stumble over your feet as you felt some hands catch you, “Thanks Aziraph- Azi-A-,”

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” He interrupts you, looking at Crowley desperately as the demon was seething in his spot.

“Have I ever mention that I fucking hate werewolves?”

Crowley moves towards you and picks you up, gritting his teeth as you wince loudly. Aziraphale snaps his fingers as the three of you arrived at your bathroom, the tub slowly filling up with hot water and helped you to get rid of the bloody coat and shirt off you.

You sat on the side of the tub, whilst Crowley and Aziraphale stood before you.

“What were you thinking?” Crowley started to scowl, pulling out a first aid kit whilst your angel runs a hand through your hair whilst kissing you tenderly, “Going out knowing there was a full moon.”

“Very irresponsible of you!” Aziraphale added his two cents, “I thought you know better!”

“You could have been killed, you’re not invincible-!” The demon continues as you flinched when he started to stitch put your cut, “That’s what you get!”

You looked up to them as they paused, your eyes looking so fed up. You swallow and look guilty, though you looked so exhausted of just existing at that moment as you let out a shaky breath.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, your voice broke at the end and letting out an uneven breath.

“You just have to be more careful, (Y/n),” Aziraphale softly hums, as Crowley continues to stitch you up so carefully that you won’t flinch.

“We’re aware it’s your job, but,” Crowley struggles to speak honestly, he struggles to be soft.

“You have to come home to us, and seeing you injured...well.”

“It’s hard when we can’t miracle you better.”

The two looks at you as you looked down, looking at your shaky hands - that’s what blood loss does, “Lets clean you up then?”

You allowed yourself to get assisted to stripped as your boyfriends lavish you. Your skin scalding due to the hot waters before getting used to the temperature. Aziraphale washes your hair as Crowley lathes you, discovering smaller cuts and bruises appearing on your body.

After that, they help you get dressed comfy whilst Crowley miracles your hair dry and leading you to your bed, which was a super king bed. You lie in the middle as you shut your eyes, hoping to block the pain.

Your boyfriends lie beside you, unable to sleep as you sleep because they were more concerned about you.

So, they vowed that you would never take of yourself so they had to do it. Most of the time when you come back pretty nastily, they remind you how they need you to come home safe but always drop compliments, or close to compliments in Crowley’s situation.

4. What to do when he has a bad day.

Aziraphale's handwriting is pretty, you think now as you stare at the writing in the book.

There was just a list of what to do when you have a bad day, not that you have many. Also, it’s subjective to each person to what is a bad day. A sad bad day or an angry bad day differ immensely, however, Aziraphale had listed different days and what to do, which by the looks of it Crowley has taken a look of it far too many times till he got it memorized.

If he’s sad, get him to the closest soft surface. Such as a bed or sofa, even your lap.

You like sitting on the angel’s lap because he had a little more weight, you liked cuddling up to him.

Don’t force him to speak, let him tell you when ready. (I mean it, Crowley!)

You smirked when you see the little note to Crowley, Crowley gets impatient most of the time, but as he continues to date you, his patience with you grows and his patience with Aziraphale decreases.

Cuddles! Lots of them, stroke his hair, traces on his skin, just hold him!

Affection, if there is a medal or trophy you could give to Aziraphale because he's so soft and always a sucker for affection. Crowley likes affection when it’s for him, he struggles to give back, so if you’re the one who reaches out for him then he’ll happily give it to you but he would never insinuate it.

If it’s an angry bad day, let him blow off some steam (that does not mean you can go make him do something illegal, Crowley)

There was that one time, Crowley almost convinced you to start a fight to release your anger before Aziraphale came to the rescue. Now, you go punch a punching bag at the gym if needed, they leave you be for a few hours to let you cool down.

If it’s a frustration bad day, well, the handwriting changes to Crowley’s, let him steam it off with sex! (or alcohol) - only with his permission, obviously.

You chuckled at the demon’s eagerness for sex and alcohol, but also respectful of your boundaries and such. You were even amused that Aziraphale had not crossed out Crowley’s suggestion because it was true.

You shut the book and put it away. There were a few more rules added with the scrawls of your boyfriends, but you couldn’t possibly have the time to read all of them. You tapped your finger against the wooden desk, you looked at the book with narrowed eyes, upon the shelves wedged in between with other books owned by your angel.

You picked up your bag and checked how much money you have as you made your way to the nearest supermarket for a book also. Clean and ready for your ink to spill.

And you would affectionately call it: How to Date a Demon and an Angel.

You might have to change the “A Demon and an Angel” Bit to something shorter, it’s a working process.

#ineffable husbands x male reader #anthony j crowley x male reader #aziraphale x male reader #crowley x male reader x aziraphale #good omens #good omens imagine #good omens x male reader #x male reader

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imhavingdifficulties · 3 years

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prmgles · 5 years

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Demon!Aziraphale and Angel!Crowley is keeping me up at night. I like reimagined the whole show with a different dynamic. What changed? Not much.

They’d both still be themselves, in fact, more so! Aziraphale doesn’t have to keep his worries and his questions hidden away, he can just be a bastard who loves Earth and everything on it.

He was thrown out not for being bad, but he just didn’t understand the ineffable plan. Why would people have to suffer? Why would She do this to her creations? He gifts Eve with the temptation for knowledge.

His sinning and tempting revolve around pushing the “seven deadly sins”. He doesn’t see why people can’t just enjoy the fun things in life. He pushes for people to eat what they want, love who they want, and take pride in everything they do, how they look. He enjoys everything the world has to offer, he doesn't want anyone Hurt, or to be evil, but if he can guide people away from Her Divine Plan, then, okay! He’s a bastard to a fault and there is no need to hide it here. He can lie, and outright share his thoughts because what will happen to him? He’s not the most devilish demon in hell, but he asked to be put on Earth, and he’s too fussy for the first demons to want around anyway.

Crowley is just so good. He loves people, Earth, and everything it has to offer. He is an angel who wants to Protect, and he knows how to keep anything he worries about to himself. He’s a smooth talker, when he’s asked where the sword went he just says, “OH I set it down for just a quick moment, can’t go swinging a flaming sword in such a beautiful garden, y’ know.”. He never lies, just knows how to omit. Answer the questions just truthful enough to get by without getting himself in trouble. He finds his own answers without asking questions that could cause him to fall.

He keeps his home in the image of Heaven and keeps a Garden in memoriam to Eden.

Aziraphale keeps a bookshop where he covets the words the people wrote. He loves information, he loves seeing what people create.

I imagine in Eden. Aziraphale comes up to the wall and transforms back into his human form, and is taken aback when an angel slides up next to him and says, “That went down like a lead balloon.” It takes a moment to collect himself and understand, the angel is merely looking at him suspiciously and not smiting him??

Aziraphale’s argument is that they deserve to have that knowledge, it’s not like it was hidden. It was right there tempting them, placed by God Herself because she couldn't bother to put it on the moon or something. It was the right thing to do.

Crowley agrees on this whole thing, but can never say so. “Demons can’t do the right thing.”

When Aziraphale notices the missing sword and he hears Crowley, might have left it next to a big whole he may have created in the wall.

When Azi tells him, “You’re an Angel! You can’t do the bad thing.” He means it. He is adamant. The angel before him is Good, He Knows. If this angel did something, it must have been good, and there is no if not. He doesn't want this angel to fall for doing something that is going to protect these two precious humans.

Crowley leaves amused and interested in this demon whose entire argument was based on,” I did this very Good thing,, for Hell of course, since it hurts whatever this Heavenly prospect was.”

Aziraphale is left with the fact he was not cast away from this angel but had a very cordial conversation with them. He raises his wings above their heads during the first rain.

Mesopotamia. Crowley is pinching his lips horrified at what is happening, knowing he can’t do a thing about it. Knowing he can’t say anything against it. He isn't opposed to the demon walking up to him, finding him in the madness, and honestly worried about the outcome of the sword. He tells him, icily, not because he’s angry at the demon but the situation they are currently standing in. he is entirely too relieved when Aziraphale voices his dissent. “She can’t do this! What did they do to deserve this? The children? Really!?”

Rather then it being Aziraphale sucking in his lips trying to stop voice his worries, not daring to question Her, simply hemming and hawing, clearly upset; it’s Crowley, clearly pissed that he can't do a thing. “She’s so kind, promising to debut a “rain-bow” after wiping all these people out.

It’s only when Aziraphale asks, “If She wants these people gone, it would be absolutely terrible, to save them, wouldn’t it?” That Crowley loses some tension. Yes, it would be. Most devilish.

He is entirely too smitten when he comes across Aziraphale hiding in an alcove of the Ark with those who were left behind.

Golgotha

“Crawly wasn’t angelic enough.”

“So what, Raphael then?

“Crowley.”

“Hm”

( I just imagined big picture stuff here folks).

It’s Aziraphale who leads Jesus to the Kingdoms of the world, trying to get him to escape the Plan laid out for him by God. He wants so desperately to save this man, this man who just wants people to Be Kind.

And it’s Crolwy who stands angry and upset he couldn't much to save him. He doesn't have a say in any decisions from Up Above.

Rome is much the same. Aziraphale overhears Crowley - an angel who can’t stop being upset at his orders and how Heaven is run.

“Still an Angel, then?” - You’re still following orders that are too painful to follow? You’re still trying to do good? You’re still safe? You’re not Fallen?

“Let me tempt you to-” His sputtering this time isn’t because he did the other man’s job but, “Not that I'm actually attempting to tempt an Angel-!”

But, Lord, is Crowley tempted.

Stop to mention, that obviously some allegiances would change. Aziraphale has to work with the bad guys because he is a demon. He doesn’t disprove of killing those who deserve it, and he can justify doing a bad thing if it means going against Heaven and God.

I Image his look being more muted. More white and empty. Eyes that look milky white, because he had argued before he was dropped, was that he, “Just couldn’t see why-” (Why this Great plan didn’t seem so great.)

He wears white, not necessarily to boast a Heavenly clean look, but it’s nice to look clean and sharp when you're a demon, and all you’re counterparts look like that. He is a demon who can look the part of Those Up Above.

I like Crowley wearing dark colors, not necessarily black, but dark, warm colors. He feels a disconnect from Heaven, and he doesn't Want to look the part.-

It’s still Crowley who suggests it would be easier if they lied to their Head Offices since they just cancel each other out. And Aziraphale stills upsets at the idea of lying, not for himself but, Crowley can't do that! You can’t just Lie to them! That’s big trouble!

This time his offices WOuld check, the demons down there do seem to keep good track of how much evil is happening, and wondering if it couldn't have been more evil, Azira-fail?

Heaven doesn’t check. Crowley knows this. They may have sticklers u there but do they even pay attention?

The entire conversation, as knights, pretty much stays the same actually. They just,, work for different offices. Aziraphale can’t accept an Angel doing something against the rules.

Cause the thing is? He believes in good. When he became a demon he felt a horrible ain he cannot imagine Crowley (or anyone else for that matter) going through. He can’t have that.

Here, as Aziraphale as a demon, he has to constantly worry that he is tempting Crowley to sin, by having an AGreement like they do. Something horrible could happen, Heaven could destroy him.

Angel or Demon, Aziraphale is going to worry about Crowley’s safety and how his own actions can affect it.

Crowley as an angel has to follow the line of working with HEaven, dong the good he Actually believes in, but he has a line he does not want to cross. He doesn’t fully agree with HEaven does and can only go so far against it.

Globe: I can’t imagine this scene going much differently again either. Demon Aziraphale eating, enjoying a play from a very creative man? Absolutely.

Crowley sneaking in, careful to make sure they’re not being watched, because he is aware of what horrible things could happen and is careful to make sure there is no getting caught.

Simply switching who is doing Good and who is doing Bad. “A few minor temptations. - No rest for the wicked.”

[Aziraphale wanting one of the Gloomy plays to be popular? Yes. It actually being Miracle (not a demonic one that does it). Not wanting to be associated with an Angel (I’m not bringing this man down, of course not) HMM. It is an entirely different way to show how they’re both not entirely on their sides? Crowley tempting Aziraphale ]? Aziraphale, being the one to worry? It means something else if they’re on the other side.]

Bookshop scene where Hastur and Ligur come to bring Aziraphale back to hell, as he isn't DOing Enough Evil, and they have to overhear Crowley go on about “That devilish, Demon, always thwarting and being Evil!”

In France, his excuse is, “I can’t explain a demonic miracle when I’m here for crepes.” (+No need to explain why he just allowed Jean Claude to die in his place. +Crowley was, “In the area” because he heard about what “Aziraphale did”. “You think this is MY Demonic Work??” “So the humans thought it up themselves? *instantly relieves Aziraphale of his chains*. (Aziraphale didn’t do anything of course, but was pleased to see some justice done).

Can demons thank people? Can he be grateful to an Angel helping him out? No, more because an Angel can’t go saving demons.

In St. James, Aziraphale asks the same favor. Crowley can’t allow this, he cares far too much about Aziraphale to bring him such a thing. Aziraphale is prone to ding stupid things, and not thinking out the consequences. He Won’t do this favor. “I’m not an idiot Crowley, I’m not going to just hurt myself.” The fraternizing comment hurts still too. Of course, this Angel has better people to hang around with, he’s just a demon, and Crowley is hurt by the fact his demonic friend views their connection as lowly fraternizing.

The WWII scene is hard. Are they in a church? Does Azi just wear thick shoes? They think he’s actually evil, but they had suspicions, and :O they’re taking him out. Crowly (Infamous British Intelligence A.J. Crowley) can redirect the bombs cause it’s no trouble killing Nazis, and Azi still saves them both and is warmed so much when the Angel saves his books again, after everything, and when they weren’t important to anyone but for him.

Aziraphale planning a heist to steal Holy water, and coming out to have a familiar Bently pull up next to him. “You’re an idiot, of course, I hear about crimes going on, I’m an Angel, I'm supposed to stop these things. Here’s what you’re looking for, keep it safe. I fear losing you, let me take you ou, anywhere you want to go, please,”

“I’m a Demon and I just got an Angel to do something for me, an Angel who seems to care very Much about me in a way that is unacceptable. Maybe I tempted him, in which case that is wrong, and it could get this wonderful Angel killed. I cannot accept his advances as that would be a Sin,, surely.”

If I didn't have to work.

#long unedited ramblings #ineffable husbands

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hel-is-makingstuff-blog · 5 years

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Sloth in Soho-Ch.3

Tea. Aziraphael needed tea. Well, not in the strictest sense of the word but he needed to soothe his nerves before he made another attempt to draw his demonic friend out of his unnatural slumber. That had been...disturbing.

At least he knew for sure now that whatever was happening was afflicting Crowley was just that: an affliction. It wasn’t of Crowley’s own doing and, indeed, could be shaken out of it he found the crux of the nightmare and countered it. It was a puzzle. A twisted puzzle but still something he could solve if he kept his wits about him.

Crowley had called him clever not too long ago. He hoped his words were not misplaced.

Which side was this coming from? Hell seemed the obvious answer. They’d probably know how to manipulate and contort the demon in all kinds of sadistic ways. It was safe, as well. Why risk taking on a demon that could sit in a path of holy water and showed no compunctions in destroying one of their own? It would be much safer to sit back, take advantage of Crowleys favorite vice, and torture him when he was at his most vulnerable. Hm. Crowley had mentioned quite a few decades ago that he had received a commendation for his sleeping century. It would be on record that Crowley excelled in sloth when he wished.

...Heaven could be at fault too, however. True, they had focused their ire on Aziraphael but an uppity demon running about ruining the Great Plan would also be grounds for a good smiting. That it would hurt their equally uppity, HellFire resistant angel would be a pleasant bonus. A fully expected benefit. By the time he finished his tea he was no closer to course of action. Though, he was nicely sated. Crowley, for reasons that Aziraphael dared not delve into at the moment, stocked his favorite tea. Crowley didn’t even drink tea often and, when he visited his former flat, he hadn’t even had kitchen let alone a kettle or tea cups. Yet...here they were. Aziraphael stomach gave another strange twist. If this kept up it would be an all out knot soon. Time to get back at it. He could ask the demon about when he was awake. (He’d probably never ask him about it.) When he returned to the bed room the angel for Crowley just as he had left him: unconscious, unmoving, constantly dreaming. The only difference was that now he was tucked snugly under the comforter. It was silly, as Crowley was still fully clothed, but it made Aziraphael feel better to know that he was at least comfortable.

The waves of emotions were still rolling off him, albeit they were less so. Perhaps his last foray into the confines of Crowley’s mind had actually done something. He hoped that was the case.

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Aziraphael choked as the pungent scent of sulfur and the scorching heat invaded his airways. There was groaning and sobbing punctuated by the occasional scream.

Around him feathers and ash fell to the scorched ground like snow. Some were on fire, others perfect as the day they were created. The ground was littered with them, the sky saturated. Far above there were dancing flames, barely seen from his lowly point. BeyonD that, stars, one burning brighter than all the rest. He knew what would happen next. This story was a familiar one, though the vantage point much different. The last time he was up there, with the holy flames, with the stars.

War was a maker of beast in not just men but the heavenly as well.

The Morning Star Fell, crashing at some spot on the horizon with such force that he struggled to stay on his feet despite the distance. This time he had the sense to close his eyes to blot out the blindingly light that had taken days to recover from back then. More Fell. Screaming in rage, in horror, in shock. A purge of On High. The world was beginning to close, a layer being built, bit by bit, high above. This was Her newest creation. An eternal prison. Hell.

He heard him then. Crowley, gasping for air, shrieking as he struggled from the river of sulfur. His black wings soaked to the very core and useless for flight no matter how hard he flapped and jumped, attempting to get lift. He fell to his knees before rising again, stumbling and shambling, shouting all the way. “Wait! WAIT! Where are you going?! Don’t leave me here!” The sky closed up, leaving only rock and heat. Aziraphael wanted to curl in on himself and cocoon in his wings. It was too horrible. Unavoidable, yes, but unavoidable things were often the worst of all.

Crowley screamed an cursed and, all at once, fell as if bound by rope, arms and legs tight together. He hit the hardwood like a stack of bricks, scattering books.

Wait. Books? Aziraphael tore his eyes from friends, taking stock of his surroundings once again. There had been a change. This was hell but not at the same time. The materials were all wrong. Instead of smoldering feathers there were burning pages falling from on high. The sulfur and brimstone stench subsided only to be replaced by the scent of burning paper and molten leather. The sulfurous stalagmites had changed when he wasn’t looking into teetering, smoldering stacks of nameless books. Crowley was thrashing against his invisible bindings, wings tucked so close they were flush to him. The blackened feathers flattened, hardening into scales...then there were no legs but a tail- “Aziraphael!” His own name being screamed so terribly sucked the breath from him. Crowley was screaming once again, his mouth all fangs and forked tongue. “Assssziraphael I can’t-...you’re gone! I can’t find you! You’ve gone! h’Assssssssszzzziraphael! H’asssszira-!” All that was left was the snake, fangs bared to the dark ceiling above them, striking as if it might bring all of heaven down to its level.

As a principality Aziraphael had all manner of experience in the evils of man and how to inspire the strength to counter them. He considered himself quite good at it, if not lax at times, which is why he allowed himself to indulge. A delicious meal, a rare edition, sitting a bit too close at times to demonic company, taking orders as more of a suggestion, excetera, excetera. Anger was a rarity, saved for only the most dire of situations. His patience and faith that all would be well if he did the right thing kept it bay. Blind rage was beyond him. Even in mortal men he found it hard to truly know what would restore them. Crowley, however much he liked to deny it to the angel, was an optimist. There was always a temper brimming just beneath the surface, fueling his humor and more pragmatic view points, but his ‘glass half full’ way of approaching himself and the world around him seemed to keep him standing up right. This was a wrath born from the lack of a silver lining. Black as the billowing smoke that was beginning to choke Aziraphael and overflowing with fear and heartbreak. It was primal and without rational thought, destructive to its very core and more volatile than nitroglycerine being transported by express freight. It was terrifying.

Or, rather, he felt it should be. Instead he found himself bursting with compassion and sympathy. “I lost my best friend.” At the time with the end of the world looming and his lack of body he could only offer the briefest of apologies, of condolences, and they had never truly revisited that moment in the weeks that followed. The shop was fine, Aziraphael was corporeal, and upper management was giving them both a wide berth. “I lost my best friend.” His voice had broken, unusually hoarse as if he had screamed himself raw and never bothered to fix the damage. Oh! He hadn’t even looked like himself! Covered in soot and dried swat, clothing rumpled and filthy…. He had never seen Crolwy so disheveled, not in the six thousand years he had known him. Oh Crowley! Oh dear, sweet Crowley!

He was in motion before he consciously made the decision to go to him. The great snake tossed and coiled, hissing and striking, blind, utterly reptilian rage reflected in familiar yellow eyes. He threw himself on the serpent without further hesitation, wrestling with it. He yelped as a fang found purchase but kept on it, holding tighter, putting his wings into it. “I know, my dear, I know. It wasn’t fair.” He found himself saying through grunts and pants, saying whatever he thought might soothe the demon. After six thousand years of companionship surely he knew the right combination of words somewhere in his heart. “You were never abandoned, though, not truly! You did not go gentle into that good night. You raged, raged against the dying light. I’m right here. It’s quite alright! I’ll be here until you can see the dawn again.”

He kept talking, eyes screwed shut as it was all becoming too much. Too much fire, too much smoke, too much fury. Concentrate on scales, concentrate and pulling him closer, concentrate only Crowley.

He kept talking.

His hands ran over smooth, searing hot scales in gentling motions. He hushed and soothed.

Keep talking. Hold closer.

He was in the midst of some Whitman and breathless reassurances when he relized he stroking feathers. That all was still. The air was thick and hot but lacked the acrid smoke of moments ago. Cautiously he opened his eyes. Staring up at him from his lap were bright yellow eyes, framed by an angular face. Clean and well groomed from his red hair down to the tips of snake skin shoes. Aziraphael could only stare back, suddenly mute after speaking at such great length. Around them was Eden. Wait. No. The stone ceiling was made of glass, as were the walls. A green house awash with lush plants, fed on anger but provided for with care. He barely noticed. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the demon looking up at him from his lap. Slender hands reached upwards, framing his face tentatively. Relief exploded in his chest and, for the first time in his long life Aziraphael wanted to give in and allow himself to fall into those welcoming hands, turn his face until his lips meant the pulse in Crowley’s wrist and-

“It’ssss all wrong, innit?” Crowley spoke finally, a residual hiss worming its way into his words. “Sssomething wrong is being done. We weren’t here a second ago. I wasss...elssssewhere.” Aziraphael seized on this moment of lucidity. “Yes! My dear, I’m afraid you are under some sort of psychic attack! This all exists in the confines of your mind.” Gentle fingers ghosted along his jawline. “Are you real, then?” “Do I often make valiant appearances in your sleeping hours?” The angel joked, shooting a grin his way. Crowley never answered, fingers stopping their journey all at once. Aziraphael laughed uncertainly. “I don’t suppose you have any answers, do you?” He pushed, trying to wave away his last question with a new one.

“There’s all kinds of demons that could do...thissss,” Crowley hissed thoughtfully. “Humans ssskilled in the occult assswell. And angelsss.” Aziraphael nodded along. He wasn’t saying anything that he had not already considered himself but it was nice to get Crowley’s opinion on matters. It helped him think. Between the two of them they could come to a solution. They were truly stronger together. Crowley went rigid in his arms. “Ah, hell. Thisss doessssn’t feel good.” Everything was breaking apart. The plants were wilting and fading to nothing, the floor itself collapsing in on itself. “Not again!” He groaned and held to Crowley tighter. “You can’t go without me! I’ll...I’ll follow!” Crowley once again, infuriatingly, said nothing. Instead he continued to gaze at him with a peculiar expression. Then he was pushing the angel away, falling back into the crumbling nothing.

This time when Aziraphael came to his senses he shouted out in frustration and very nearly pitched the clock radio on the nightstand across the room in a fit of rarely felt anger.

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #fanfic #fan fiction

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