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#good omens imagine
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Imagine. . .
You're falling asleep in Aziraphale's bookshop, feeling warm and safe and spread out over a sofa. There's rain gently tapping against the windows, and it's dark outside. The warm glow of the shop's lighting and the smell of old books surround you as you doze off. Aziraphale has a record softly playing in the background as he's lightly stirring his cup of tea while humming to himself. You know he's sitting at his desk even with your eyes closed because you have the layout of the shop already mapped out in your head. You're nearly in dreamland when you feel a blanket being placed gingerly over you, up to your chin, a slender finger accidentally brushes your cheek while tucking you in. Definitely Crowley.
"Have a dream," he mumbles, mostly to himself, because he can't afford to say 'nice' or 'pleasant'.
You're not sure if you imagine it, but you could've sworn you felt a hand gently brushing a hair out of your face before you completely fall asleep, Aziraphale's humming one of the last things you remember before your consciousness slips.
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Imagine Aziraphale finding you and Crowley fuming at one another…
The doorbell of the bookstore sang into the air with a delightful sound as the owner had returned from his trip alone. There was a sigh of content and homeliness as Aziraphale stepped deeper into the room. He took in the sight, noticing a few stray papers and misplaced books but they were all minor corrections.
Turning to his desk, he saw the trusted pair who he had left in charge - one on the chair and the other leaning against a shelf.
“So, how was your time bonding while I was away?” Aziraphale wondered ever so curiously with an excitable lilt to his voice. His adventure had been a silent plot to enhance coorporation between his two friends who had gotten off on the wrong foot and continued down the road.
Without wasting a second, you cast a finger of accusation to the demon lounging on the chair.
“He poisoned me!”
Aziraphale turned to Crowley immediately to hear the explanation but the demon merely waved his glass of alcohol in the air.
“I did not poison you. Not intentionally anyway. It was more of an accidental poisoning.” He more-or-less confessed.
“Oh, Crowley.” The disappointment in the angels voice wasn’t hidden. He had genuinely hoped that the two would have found some common ground to build a steady foundation for trust in his absence.
The angel’s tone struck a chord with the red-haired being who cast an equally accusing finger at his opposition.
“Y/n wouldn’t have been poisoned if they knew not to touch my things.”
You scoffed and crossed your arms. “Oh, please. You’ve been secretly plotting to write me out of this story ever since I foiled your plans of uncontrollable flooding and created the Niagra Falls all those years ago.”
“I’ve been plotting to write you out from the day we met. Believe me.” Crowley sneered back.
“And for what? To have Aziraphale’s undivided attention?”
The book-loving angel felt his face flush at the mention of a battle for his affection. The giddiness swept over his halo allowing him to revel in the feeling until he remembered the heat in the air almost starting to be reminiscent of ‘downstairs’.
“Now, now. I enjoy the company of you both but now I fear leaving you alone for a few seconds. Is it really so difficult to find common interests?”
You and Crowley turned away and looked around the room, pondering an answer. Surely there must have been one thing that you both could agree on?
“We didn’t kill each other while you were out?” Crowley offered.
You snapped your fingers and nodded.
Aziraphale hummed sceptically. “It’s not quite what I was going for but I’ll allow it.”
~ More imagines here ~
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bi-bard · 1 year
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The Angel, The Demon, and the University Student They "Adopted" - Aziraphale & Crowley Imagine [Good Omens]
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Title: The Angel, The Demon, and the University Student They "Adopted"
Pairing: Aziraphale & Crowley X Platonic!Reader
Word Count: 2,071 words
Warning(s): headache, mention of break-up
Summary: In which a struggling college student stumbles upon a demon and an angel, who agree to help in any way they can.
Author's Note: to celebrate the announcement of the release date... and give a little comfort to those who are having a rough time in college right now.
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I had gone to that small bookshop for something to work on a paper.
I had been looking for it online, but nothing was affordable. My best option was going to be to find a small bookshop that didn't charge as much. I simply had my fingers crossed that it would work out.
I must've been walking around with my eyebrows furrowed for a little while because a man walked up to me. He was wearing a beige suit with a-little-too-perfectly white hair. He seemed friendly enough though.
"Can I help you find something," he asked. I paused for a moment. "Sorry, I'm the owner. I can tell you where everything is."
"Oh, okay," I chuckled. I pointed at a part of my paper where my potential sources had been scribbled down. "Um, yes. I'm looking for this... it's for a school paper."
"I see..." he muttered. "Wait here."
I nodded.
I watched him walk behind a set of shelves. There was maybe a minute of waiting before the man walked out again with the book in his hands.
"Oh, you are a lifesaver," I said excitedly. "Thank you! How much?"
He hesitated, staring at the book. As if he grabbed it without thinking about it but now was realizing that he was going to have to part with it.
"How about a deal," he offered after a few moments. "Once you're done with your paper, bring it back here in largely the same condition. No charge and you have no additional clutter to take up space in your home."
I grinned. "Sounds like a deal."
"Well, then, I wish you luck on your paper," he handed me the book
"Thank you," I said. I only took a few steps toward the door before stopping. "I didn't get your name."
He hesitated for a moment before replying, "A.Z. Fell."
"Oh, I thought... Sorry, I assumed this place had been open for a while, so I thought the name on the front was your father or something."
"Afraid not."
"Well, thank you again. I'll see you in a few days."
Which I did.
A few days later, my paper was done, and I walked back into the little bookshop.
"Mr. Fell," I called.
He rounded the corner. "You're back."
"I'm here to return your book," I held up the book as evidence. "Perfect condition."
"Thank you so much," he said as he grabbed it from me. "I hope you get a good grade on that paper of yours."
"Me too," I chuckled. "In all honestly, I don't think I've read it without just a little more of my brain frying."
"Oh no," he mumbled. "I... I could read it over for you. If that would help, of course. I won't force you to give me your paper."
"I... I can't ask you to do that."
"Well, that's precisely why I'm offering," he grinned at me.
I grinned back. "Okay. When would you like me to bring it by?"
"Do you have time now?"
"Um, yeah, sure."
"Here," he led me into a corner of the shop with a small table. "You get your paper put together and I'll make us some tea."
"Okay," I nodded.
As he walked out, I sat down and unzipped my bag, grabbing the binder that held my paper. I also grabbed a red pen just so it was more convenient.
When he came back, he placed a mug in front of me. I grinned and thanked him.
"You can go find a book to enjoy if you'd rather that than watch me read..." he looked at the paper in front of him. "(Y/n)."
"Thank you."
I took his advice. I took the mug of tea and started pacing around the collection of books. I was scanning the spines of the books when the doors of the shop slammed open.
"Angel!"
I jumped at the sound, looking over at whoever had stormed in. Another man, dressed in all black, sunglasses sitting on his face.
"Who are you?"
"(Y/n)," I said. "Who are you?"
"I have told you to not run in here shouting like that," Mr. Fell walked out of the corner that he had been hiding in.
"Who is this," the other man pointed at me.
"I just told you my name," I replied.
"How am I meant to trust you?"
"Why would I lie about my name?"
"Don't know, you tell me-"
"Stop it," Mr. Fell cut him off. "This is (Y/n). I am reading over a paper that they wrote for school."
"Why?"
"Because it's kind," he turned back to me. "(Y/n), this is... Anthony."
"Nice to meet you," I nodded to Anthony.
"Yeah, you too," he muttered, barely paying me any mind as he spoke to Mr. Fell. "We need to talk."
"I am busy-"
"Do I look like I care?"
"I can come back later," I spoke up.
"No, no, please, I promised to read your paper," Mr. Fell stopped me. "Anthony will simply have to wait."
"Excuse me," Anthony snapped.
"You heard me perfectly well," Mr. Fell mumbled. "Please, stay. I'll finish this paper."
Anthony glared at me as Mr. Fell turned around and went back to the table he had been sitting at.
If you had told me that day that the little bookshop was going to become such a place of comfort for me, then I am not sure that I would have believed you.
But it did.
I continued going to that little shop whenever I had the time. I would study, read, or just help with whatever I could help with. Mr. Fell was not a fan of me doing "so much" work around the shop, but I insisted. He had given me a safe space. The least that I could do was help him maintain it.
I grew closer to him as time went on. I even grew closer to Anthony.
Or Crowley, as I soon learned.
I still chuckled from time to time over how they told me their real names. I had been sitting at the table, scribbling notes for one of my courses.
They both stood in front of me silently until I noticed them. I raised an eyebrow at them. That's when they confessed that their names were fake.
When they told me their real names, I felt bad for chuckling. They both looked a bit confused.
"I'm sorry, but... your fake name just used your real name as a last name," I pointed to Crowley and then to Aziraphale. "And yours was your real name with a couple of letters taken out."
"Alright, we get it," Crowley grumbled.
"Thank you for telling me," I added. "I mean it."
"You're welcome," Aziraphale replied. Crowley didn't say the same until Aziraphale looked over at him with a somewhat grumpy look.
The three of us were only closer after that.
It was nice. Having that small support group that I could turn to.
Aziraphale was always ready to help. As soon as I opened the door of the shop, he was ready for whatever assistance I asked for. A hug, an extra set of eyes on an assignment, a quiet place to read a new book.
Crowley acted cold, but I could tell that he cared.
I came in one day with one of the worst headaches I had ever experienced. Aziraphale was gone, but Crowley had been waiting for him. I walked into the building with the heels of my hands pressed into my eyes. After grumpily explaining what was happening, I walked off to put my bag down and hide in the corner.
He waited for a moment before following me.
"Come here," he said.
"What," I asked.
"Come here," he repeated, holding his arms open.
I kept my eyebrows furrowed as I stepped forward. Once I was close enough to him, he grabbed my arm and pulled me forward into a hug.
"Oh," I mumbled before slowly hugging him back. "This is nice."
"Don't call me that."
I chuckled. "I didn't call you nice."
"Oh...," he muttered. "Well... don't get any clever ideas."
"Yeah, sure, whatever you want, Crowley."
I closed my eyes for a minute, holding onto him a little tighter.
I don't know what happened, but I could feel my headache slowly fading away as we hugged. It felt like it was there one minute and gone the next. I let out a sharp breath when it was gone. It felt like a weight had been lifted off of my head.
"Thank you," I said after a while.
"Yeah, whatever."
That may have been the closest I ever got to a you're welcome with him and I was okay with that. For the time being.
I don't know if I truly realized how much Crowley and Aziraphale cared for me until I walked in crying.
I felt like a child. I was crying as I walked down the sidewalk.
When I made it to the shop, I almost sprinted inside.
Aziraphale jumped at the force I used to open the door. Any scolding died as soon as he saw me.
"Oh, dear," he muttered, walking over to me. "What happened to you?"
He pulled me into a hug as I cried. I hid my face in his shoulder, clinging to his suit a bit as I did. I saw Crowley walk out from around the corner.
"What's going on," he asked.
I stepped back. I went to speak but nothing came out.
"Come on," Aziraphale guided me to my normal corner, guiding me to sit down. I dropped my bag on the floor and wiped my eyes. "Take your time."
Crowley sat in the spot next to me while Aziraphale stayed standing.
"There's... There's this guy," I explained. "I... We were seeing each other for a little while. We went on a few dates. I thought... I thought it was going well. And then, he just... changed. And he sent me this."
I tossed my unlocked phone on the table. Aziraphale grabbed it first. I heard a disgusted sound escape him.
"That is just... despicable," he muttered, placing the phone down.
Crowley reached out and grabbed the phone. I saw his face twist in disgust as a reaction.
"I think he sounds like a waste of time," he said as he placed my phone down. "It's stupid to waste an ounce more of your time on him."
"Crowley!" Aziraphale was fast to scold him.
"What?"
"Now is not the time to insult (Y/n) about their relationship!"
"I'm not! I'm only insulting them if they decide to spend any more time on this person. What I did was just an example of bluntness."
Aziraphale gave Crowley a look before turning back to me with a soft grin. "I am going to make you some tea. You just relax. And Crowley..."
Crowley smirked at him, an eyebrow raised.
"Be nice."
"I am not nice."
"Well, maybe now is a good time to try."
Aziraphale turned around and walked away from the pair of us.
There was a pause between the pair of us before I could speak up.
"Do you actually think that I'm stupid for wasting time on this guy," I asked quietly.
Crowley let out a sigh as he sat up a little bit straighter, tilting his head so he was looking me in the eye. "Not as stupid as he was for leaving you."
I felt a grin form on my face. He leaned over and kissed my head before standing up.
"I'm going to get you something a little stronger than tea."
"I don't drink-"
"And I clearly meant chocolate."
I chuckled and shook my head. "Thank you, Crowley."
"You're welcome."
He walked out of the little nook in the corner.
As he did, I leaned my head on my folded arms on the table. I felt my eyes slowly shutting. I felt bad because of what the pair were off doing, but I couldn't help it. It had just been such a long day. I couldn't help it.
As my blinking got slower and slower, I found myself thinking about how lucky I was to be in that situation.
I had never felt as safe as I was when I spent time in that little bookshop.
I would never be able to thank Crowley and Aziraphale for that.
But I would never stop trying to do so.
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Navigation Guide
What I Write For
Some Original Characters
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While you write poly aziracrow (no pressure) do you have any recs?👀
I think I've read everything there is to find :(
Hi, hello! You are very sweet! It's definetly not pressuring since I'm already writing for them but you're right, omg there is so little of poly!ineffable husbands x reader 😔☹️
One of the reasons why I started doing the God's work, obviously, basically writing the fanfiction of the fanfiction of God..? Is that what Good Omens authors do?
Anyways, I don't know if you had read them before, but here is some of my personal ones:
- The Light, The Dark and The Spaces In Between
- This hurt/comfort fic
-This Blurb where they teach reader to drive the Bentley
- This lovely fic( which is the third part of the first fic)
-Shelter of Wings
- Two Turtle Doves
- Hugs and other intimacies
- Ugly Christmas Jumpers
- Feathers( and also my all times favourites)
- Are you trying to romance me?
- To Your Days Off
-This Good Omens Oneshot book on Wattpad( includes all the characters)
Taggings: @avocado-writing, @bakerstreethound, @starks-hero, @witches-and-cows @asphodelsandpomegranates THANK YOU ALL FOR WRITING SUCH AMAZING STORIES💞🥰❤️
They are all with reader insert, if you are looking for something else( Like with Gabriel? You can search in the AO3. There are some of them too!)
I hope I was able to help!
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hikarry · 8 days
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Do you ever think Aziraphale watches Ducktales and went he hears Scrooge speaks he is like "...wait!"
"Why were you watching cartoons anyway?"
"That's not the point, Crowley." Aziraphale points at the tv. "Listen." They both keep quiet as the animated wealthy duck speaks to his house keeper.
"So?"
"You don't hear it?"
"Hear what?"
Frustrated, Aziraphale huffs and grabs the tv remote, turning up the volume.
"It sounds exactly like you! But Scottish!"
"Ngk-" Crowley looks up at the ceiling, moving his hands nervously as he searches for the sunglasses on the side table without looking at it.
"Crowley?"
"Mhm." He finally finds the glasses and puts them on, getting up from the sofa. "Gotta go, angel. Fun evening but cartoons are not my-"
"Wait up!" Aziraphale holds him by the arm, stopping him from taking another step forward. "You are nervous." He feels the muscles under his fingers tense up. "You are! You are lying to me!" The angel gets up, ever without letting go of the arm, and walks until he is face to face with the demon. "What are you hiding."
"Mrgyeahknownothing."
"Crowley-!"
"It was just for fun!"
Both fall silent, looking at each other.
"...What?"
"You know I created Disney. Greed and controlling the minds of the young and whatnot." Crowley starts gesticulating quickly, ever without looking directly at Aziraphale. "And then they decided to remake Ducktales and I thought 'Oh, that show was popular back then. And I make a mean impression of Scrooge. I could spread evil through it!' so I maneuvered my way into voice acting with a bit of manipulation and schmoozing and whatever." He was talking very fast and hissing, as he did when he got agitated. "And there I ended up voice acting for 3 seasons - with evil intentions, obviously."
Aziraphale stared at him, mouth slightly open, completely dumbfounded. Crowley finally looked down at him. The angel couldn't see it, cause the sunglasses were pretty good at protecting him, but the demon was indeed nervous. He would never admit to it, but he was. Truly. He never thought Aziraphale would end up so bored he would watch cartoons, much less evil greedy Disney and not some old almost-forgotten relic like Betty Boop or something.
"You...voice act?"
"I voice acted. Once. For one character."
Slowly, a smile spread on Aziraphale's lips.
"Can you do the accent?"
"No."
"Crowley-"
"Absolutely not."
"My dear-"
"Never again."
The angel reached out, putting his hands on each of Crowley's cheeks, stopping him from talking.
"I am an adventurer, boys!" Aziraphale's scottish accent sucked. Badly.
Crowley put his hand over Aziraphale's mouth and pushed him slightly away, just enough for his hands to leave his face.
"Never, ever disrespect Scotland like that again."
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owen-writes · 4 months
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Backhanded Compliments
Crowley x Gender Neutral Reader
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The soft glow of candlelight flickers around the room as you settle into Crowley's lap, the worn leather of his sofa creaking slightly beneath your weight. The day had been long, filled with otherworldly occurrences and bizarre events that only seemed to make sense when you were with him.
Crowley's serpent eyes, a mesmerizing blend of gold and yellow, fixate on you with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. His gaze is a peculiar mix of mischief and genuine curiosity, making it hard to decipher his true intentions.
"You know, you're actually quite good-looking when you're not talking," he remarks, his words slithering out with a hint of a smirk. It's the kind of backhanded compliment that only Crowley can deliver.
"So, you think I'm good-looking?" you tease, a playful grin forming on your lips.
"I said 'when you're not talking,'" Crowley replies, his tone carrying a distinct devilish charm.
"Too late, I'm taking it as a compliment," you quip, leaning back against his chest, feeling the warmth radiating from his supernatural being.
The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while, the only sound being the distant hum of traffic outside and the occasional crackle of the fireplace. Crowley's fingers absentmindedly trace patterns on your forearm, a gentle touch that contrasts with his usual swagger.
"You humans and your need for validation," he muses, his gaze still fixed on you. "But I suppose you're tolerable, at least in small doses."
"Coming from you, that's practically a love declaration," you jest, leaning into his touch. The subtle rhythm of his fingers creates a soothing sensation, grounding you in the moment.
Crowley smirks, a glint of something more genuine flickering in his eyes. "Don't get used to it, love. I've got a reputation to uphold."
As the evening unfolds, the conversation meanders between the supernatural and the mundane. Crowley's anecdotes about centuries of mischief and mayhem are interwoven with your tales of navigating the human experience. The dynamic between you two is oddly harmonious, a dance of opposites that defies logic.
Eventually, the conversation fades into a comfortable silence. Crowley's gaze never wavers, and you can't help but meet his eyes. There's an unspoken connection, an understanding that goes beyond words.
"You're not like other humans," he observes, his tone softer than usual.
"Guess I'm lucky to have caught the attention of a demon then," you reply, a playful glint in your eyes.
Crowley smirks again, but this time it's different. It's a smirk tinged with a hint of vulnerability, a rare glimpse behind the facade. The unspoken words hang in the air, lingering between you.
And as the night deepens, you find solace in the arms of a demon, a connection that transcends the boundaries of the celestial and the infernal. In that moment, you realize that sometimes, the most extraordinary bonds are forged in the most unexpected places.
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weirdmorefics · 8 months
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How Are Hands Attractive? (crowleyxreader)
Pronouns-She/Her
Word Count- 1,078
Summary- Reader is a witch and close friends with Aziraphale and works at the bookshop restoring books. Aziraphale asks Y/n for romantic advice for Nina and Maggie which leads to interesting covo about Crowley hands.
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The day was stormy there was hardly anybody out on the street because of the terrible thunder and lightning. I was peacefully sipping her cold coffee and restoring an old spellbook that Aziraphale found. The sound of the rain was very soothing and I did not have to worry about Jim short for Gabriel bothering me because Aziraphale told him bookstores are closed on Wednesdays. Aziraphale on the other hand kept interrupting my work so he could get my opinion on most romantic situations for Nina and Maggie.
"Y/n what do you think is the most romantic thing?" Aziraphale asks.
" I don't know. Hmmm maybe leaving me alone so I can finish restoring this book in peace," I respond.
"Seriously, Y/n the book can wait! This matter is of life and death! You are sort of human so you should know more about these things than I." He says looking me very seriously in the eyes.
I sigh and very gently move the book to the side. I take a deep breath " I have personally always found hands very attractive-"
Aziraphale interrupted "How can hands be attractive? They are just helpful tools. Books always say it's the eyes that are the windows to the soul."
"Don't get me wrong eyes are pretty as well but I have always enjoyed hands they help us create they help us hold on to each other. Why did you even ask me anyway if you're just going to think I am wrong. Also, I think we both know I lack any experience or knowledge on romance." I respond annoyed.
Aziraphale smiles at Y/n, "I guess I was just curious." Then his eyes light up like something just clicked in his mind. I think if he was a cartoon a light bulb would have appeared above his head.
"Y/n!" He gasps and I give him an inquisitive look. "You are always staring at Crowley's hands so does that mean!!!"
I quickly crossed my arms across my chest denying the accusation profusely.
Crowley enters the bookshop closing a soaked umbrella, "Who is always staring at my hands."
Y/n's heart nearly pounds out of her chest and she nearly knocks over her coffee.
"Don't tell me you haven't noticed-" I quickly cut Aziraphale off
I come out from behind the desk I was working at and take the umbrella from Crowley, "Don't tell me that you were outside in this weather with an umbrella you could have got struck by lightning."
Crowley lifts his glasses down to look ME in the eyes "Are you serious? A demon struck by lightning would do nothing compared to the heat of Hell."
"How should I know I've never been to Hell," I whine.
Crowley kisses the top of my head and says "And you never will."
Aziraphale smiles a plotting a smile that scares me for what he is planning. He cups his chin with both hands and tilts his head "Crowley what do you find most romantic? Y/n has been telling me what she finds most romantic to help Nina and Maggie. I can see she has quite the type. I think we might even know the guy."
Crowley's face seems to turn sour at Aziraphale probably at the notion of discussing romance so I try to assure him it is unneeded to chime in. "Please ignore him he has been like this all day. He has not let me get a single thing done today."
Instead, he completely ignores me and walks up to Aziraphale, "So what does this man that Y/n fancies have for qualities that make her swoon."
"No, I can't say that would be betraying her trust," Aziraphale puts a hand on his chest and makes a big show of it like he didn't just start this whole mess.
"Come on Angel we are all friends here! Right Y/n? What can you tell the Angel that you can't tell me," he pouts.
"You bring up a great point, Crowley! Y/n can certainly tell you about the man she fancies I don't see a reason she could not! Let me start off I know she loves this man's hands she is always staring at them it is so obvious." Aziraphael smiles brightly and if my glare back could kill he would be dead.
Crowley circles me like prey as if my answer could cure him from hunger. "I've never noticed our little sorceress staring at hands that's very impolite to stare you know."
He calls me a nickname he uses for me frequently as he knows it annoys me. "You know what's impolite to spill others secrets Aziraphale" I glare.
Aziraphale straightens his bowtie, "You never said it was a secret if you had I would not have said a peep. I am very good at secrets you know"
"The thing is I just don't understand why there is anything to hide from your good old pals!" Crowley interrupts. "Unless this guy is someone unworthy of our sorceress's heart. Then in that case Aziraphale would have a duty to tell me."
"Do not be concerned this man I have known longer than anyone. No one could compete with him he is very kind." He quickly assures Crowley.
Crowley started to look like that time when Aziraphale took Gabriel under his protection, "So he is an angel... those are the only beings you have known for the longest. I swear to Hell if it's Gabriel he is not kind Aziraphael you have no idea what he said to me when I was you! I can not believe you let him stay here! He is worse than any demon!"
I quickly put my hand on Crowley's shoulder, "It is not Gabriel I would never do that to you."
Crowley's eyes softened as he looked into your eyes but only for a second before they turned into confusion, "What other angel do you even know on a personal level!"
I saw no choice but to come clean, "It's you! You idiot!"
I took a deep breath to prepare myself for the heartbreak because I am no celestial being who will be around forever. I am just a witch I am really not that different from an ordinary human. But the heartbreak never came instead he held my face and kissed me deeply.
I was stunned speechless and he smirked "So you think my hands are romantic you say."
Bonus-
Aziraphael- Now both of you thank me! I also accept books as thank-yous Y/n has a list of the books of that I am on the hunt for! I also made photocopies of the list so you can carry the list with you at all times as a reminder.
Y/n- Shut up, Angel!
Crowley- Thank you, Angel
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raz-writes-the-thing · 4 months
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New Year's Kiss (Good Omens One-Shot)
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Aziraphale x GN!Reader / requests are open
Summary: Aziraphale asks to be your New Year's kiss.
Fic type: holiday fluff
GOMENS: @coffee-and-red-lipstick @quickslvxrr @clarina04 @motionlessindoubt @stevekempscocktails @go-bonkers-go-foolish @peytonpenguin37 @florduarte @complimentary-breadbasket @thekirbishow @jaziona92 (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You’d mentioned it when you were a little tipsy on New Year's morning. You’d never been kissed. You’d never had a kiss on New Year’s either. Well, those things sort of went hand in hand, but the point was- you’d never felt someone’s lips upon yours. 
It wasn’t necessarily something that upset you. It was a fact just like how caterpillars have, like, four thousand muscles was a fact. But Aziraphale was a romantic at heart, and how could he let a stunning creature such as you go without a New Year’s kiss when there wouldn’t be another chance of that for another whole year? Not a long time for Aziraphale, no- but it was for you. 
So, at five minutes to, Aziraphale took your hands in his and gave you one of his ever so charmingly romantic smiles. 
“My dear,” he started somewhat hesitantly. Like he didn’t quite know what to say. “I’ve been thinking about your confession this morning.” 
“My confession?” You asked, having sobered up many hours previous. “Oh! The New Year’s kiss thing? Yeah, what about it?” 
Aziraphale’s thumb brushed over the back of your hand. Your heart skipped a beat. 
You’d had feelings for Aziraphale for a while now. How could you not? He was soft, kind, handsome and a reader. And he did his own washing- what more could you ask for, really? But you’d never really entertained the idea that he might have felt the same way for you. 
“I know I haven’t mentioned it before,” he said, clearing his throat and ordering his thoughts. “But- if you were amenable, I- well, I would be honoured if you’d do me the honour of being your first.” 
You blinked a couple of times, trying to let the information absorb into your brain. 
“Kiss, that is,” he hurriedly corrected, though you honestly wouldn’t have minded the alternative either just quietly. 
“I- Aziraphale,” you breathed, a smile slowly spreading over your lips. You bit down on your bottom one so as not to seem too eager. There was a squeal threatening to escape you any second now.
“I know this is highly unusual for romantic courtships,” he continued on, clearly growing anxious now. “But I just thought, well, why not ‘shoot my shot’, as it were.” 
Your eyes darted to the countdown on the television. Just a minute left now. Outside, you could hear the people gathered on the street start to countdown. 
“I- yes, Aziraphale. I would love that.” 
Aziraphale looked very pleased with himself, and he let go of one of your hands to brush his forefinger down your cheek. 
“You’re truly stunning, my dear. Gorgeous.” 
You could feel your cheeks flush slightly at the compliment. Aziraphale was always paying you compliments, but they never ceased to fluster you with their sincerity. 
“You’re not so bad yourself,” you chuckled back, eyes roaming over his features. He really was gorgeous, wasn’t he? Outside, you could hear the countdown get louder as it reached ten seconds to go. 
Your grin was infectious, and Aziraphale shot you one of his own. He shuffled in place as if he were nervous. He probably was. 
And then the countdown struck zero, and Aziraphale’s lips were on yours. Soft skin but a firm press of his lips. Your arms wound around his neck and you pressed yourself close. You’d waited so long for this- for a kiss, for Aziraphale, really. 
And now you had him. 
Zira pulled away and pressed his forehead to yours affectionately. He held you close, not wanting to let go of you just yet. 
“Happy New Year, my darling,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 
“Happy New Year, Zira,” you replied lovingly. 
It was gonna be a good year. You just knew it.
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bakerstreethound · 8 months
Text
Angel's Tea Under a Demon's Wing
Relationship: Aziraphale x reader x Crowley (Ineffable husbands x reader)
Warnings: mentions of anxiety, hurt, comfort, soft Aziraphale, grumpy Crowley, domestic partners, deluge of rain, job insecurity, financial stress, and a brief mention of loss & death
Summary: Time is running out for you to find a job so you can stay afloat in your small London flat. In one last desperate attempt, you swallow your pride and hand out your resume around town, praying for a miracle. As luck would have it, Aziraphale is intrigued by you and offers a proposition, despite Crowley's protests.
All writings belong to me @bakerstreethound (Do NOT claim, repost, copy or translate my works to other sites. I only publish here and on A03 under the same username)
Word Count: 2.0k+
A/N: Cheerio my lovelies! I come bearing a gift for you all. I hope you enjoy some more ineffable husbands and . I adore them so and we could all use some comfort after season 2. Special thanks also to @novaracer for beta reading. Comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated! Graphic by @firefly-graphics
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Time had a cruel sense of humor, and it didn’t differ on any day like today, the skies trickling with rain, warning London of an impending storm. Yet, it didn’t tear you from your conquest in searching for a job.
You were sure to have found one by now, yet with the current economy, you weren’t sure how you were going to make it with the diner job you had, letting your other skills and talents be pushed aside. You couldn’t afford to do so much longer, for you ached to be out of your apartment finding purpose other than in the books you plowed through. 
You adored your quiet life, but something inside you wanted more and knew you could strive for it. 
That is how you found yourself with a stack of resumes in hand, sliding them into the mailboxes of local businesses, praying for a miracle you would get a response. Soon enough you dip into the coffee shop across the way from the last stop you made at a quaint bookstore that was oddly still in business.
You hadn’t mustered up the courage to peruse through the piles of books even though Maggie at the record shop insisted that her landlord and the owner of the bookshop, Mr. Fell, was sweet and meant no harm. Either way, you’d been too busy at the diner until now to consider applying for a job there. You hoped something would come around, but only a miracle could make it happen. 
******
Meanwhile, Aziraphale began his morning as usual with some hot chocolate and making a record of miracles in the like when Crowley stomped in, huffing while clenching a wrinkled piece of paper. 
“Awe come on, angel. Why are you doing this?” Crowley groaned.
 Aziraphale swiped the wrinkled paper from Crowley’s grasp. “It’s only hospitable to offer the poor dear a job. I mean, look at their credentials!” he exclaimed as he excitedly flipped through another page as if he were reading a great myth instead of a resume. 
“What’s the point? You practically have me to do all the work here for you,” Crowley mumbled, downing the rest of his wine. He stretched out on the couch again, his long lean legs draped over the arm, adding an extra bit of drama to any bit of furniture. The demon could not sit on anything properly to save his life. 
Aziraphale sighed and bit his lip, eyes twinkling with mischief. “If you consider your work laying around here drinking, yes you do a fine job at that.” Crowley lifted his head, mock rage plastered over his face. “Better watch that tongue of yours angel, You know I love it so.” 
“Well, then better make yourself useful and dust the books and tidy up your plants. We should expect a visitor within the hour.” Azi smiled warmly at his partner, giddiness filling his chest when Crowley pecked him on the cheek. 
“I’ll get right on it, angel.” 
******
You huffed, drowning down your third, or was it fifth? cup of coffee. You weren’t sure why you felt this way, the stress in your shoulders building the more you typed, your brain filling with words faster than you could write or type them down.  You’d been at Nina’s shop for an hour, most of it spent scrolling through job listings, though your search also included browsing some bookstores and a new computer you have been eyeballing for months.
Alas not much had come from your ventures, but you have to admit it was a good day to get out of the flat and enjoy the fresh air and the coziness of somewhere else other than your pit of despair. You could only stay inside with yourself and your mind for so long. 
Regardless, you enjoyed the quiet chatter, the drip of the machine keeping in time with your typing, and then a ping sounds from your phone. Your heart races, could this be it? 
“Hello?” A soft angelic voice inquires from the other end. “I was calling about your interest in a job. You see I’m Aziraphale, Mr. Fell as most call me, I own the bookshop across from Nina’s coffee shop. The…Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death that one, it’s hard to miss.  Would you be interested?” 
Would I be interested? Hell yes, you would after months of finding nothing that’d pay anything for manual labor you wouldn’t imagine anything better than sorting books all day. 
“Mr. Fell, that would be lovely. When do you want me to start?” You thrum your fingers on the table, not believing your luck. 
“Are you available now? I have cocoa biscuits and tea!” 
“I don’t think I’m in any position to refuse your offer, Mr. Fell.” 
“Lovely, it’s settled then. I’ll see you within the hour, yes?” His voice is warm, reminding you of an old friend and holding hands with a friend by the lake. It made you happier than you’d been in a while and when you set your phone back on the table, glancing at the bright light streaming in through the window despite the darkening clouds of the horizon, you know you won’t refuse this job; it’s almost too good to be true. 
******
“Oh boy, that doesn’t look good,” Crowley mutters, shoving piles of books into the shelves, trying to make the shop more presentable, as Azira put it. The sky outside darkened an alarming shade of gray and Crowley could practically hear the impending storm cackling in warning. 
Aziraphale sighs, taking off his spectacles and rubbing his eyes. “Well, if worse comes to worst, we can stay in for the night and forgo the Ritz.” 
“You? Forgo the meal at the Ritz? The world must truly be ending!” Crowley exclaims, throwing himself back on the couch right as the first clap of thunder came down, the notable pitter-patter of rainfall following in its wake. 
Not a moment later, the doorbell rings, and there you are, a jacket plastered along your form, hair damp and you sneeze. “Hi, I’m here to see Mr. Fell.” 
******
“Gracious come in come in, Oh do sit down, let me take that for you!” The smaller man, Aziraphale you note, bustles around, offering you an armchair, which you sit in, groaning at the warmth. The deluge came out of nowhere, soaking you to the bone during the albeit dort walk along the street, but you ended up getting distracted at Maggie’s record shop, losing track of time as fate would have it you ended up an utter wreck at the job you’d accepted a meer hour before. 
“I’m so sorry for the state of my appearance, I should’ve brought an umbrella.” 
“The weather is quite unpredictable is it not?” Another person appears from the shadows, encased in black, hair a lovely shade of red that makes you wish you could pull it off as well as them. They reach out their hand to you and you lean forward accepting it. 
“Crowley, a pleasure to meet you. I see Aziraphale ran off before introductions.” He motions for you to stand and you do so, while he drapes his black jacket over you. It’s pleasantly warm, and you’re equally impressed with the black turtleneck and vest combination he’s currently sporting. 
You smile at the gesture. “I’m sure it’s for the tea. There was mention of it on the phone call.” 
“Oh, right, the infamous phone call. It practically made his day, though I insisted that he didn’t need to hire anyone, no don’t take it as a bad thing, necessarily. Nina and Maggie vouched for your character too so now you’re practically part of the block gang.”
“Crowley, are you interrogating our guest?” 
You pull the borrowed jacket closer around you trying not to shiver in a combination of nerves and excitement. The easy banter between the two of them makes you feel at ease and it comforts you how relaxed they are in each other's presence. If all your days could be spent with a gentle, quiet and constant companion by your side, then you couldn’t possibly want for more. 
“I am sorry for inconveniencing you.” you blurt out, Mr. Fell’s gaze meeting yours in quiet understanding. 
“It’s no trouble at all, we’ve not much going on, isn’t that right, Crowley.” 
“Right, whatever he said, that’s right.” the tall lanky figure grumbles, discarding a pile of books on the floor, making you wince at the thump they leave behind. 
That must’ve hurt, you grumble. 
“They’ll be alright” Crowley grumbles. 
Whoops, you had spoken that out loud. You clench your jaw, trying in vain to relax, the nerves flowing through you, making your stomach tie itself in knots despite your mind’s protests. 
“Crowley, I would appreciate it if you didn’t throw my books in that manner,” Mr Fell’s brow quirks, eyes lighting in quiet mirth as he leans over to whisper, “He does that when he’s grouchy.” 
“I assume it happens frequently, then.” 
“Usually when I irk him or someone else, which is at least three times a week or more.” 
Crowley scowls, “It’s not that frequent!” 
You smile at the easy banter between them, the way they brought you into this small sphere of their  world and it makes you feel less alone than you have had in months. You enjoyed this, the glances they tossed back and forth with the ease of old lovers, twin soulmates of the universe ancient in their own right. 
“Well then, I think it’s settled,” Aziraphale faces you, hands clasped, a smile gracing his lips. You burrow further into the jacket Crowley lent you from the deluge, nervous for the outcome. In the next moment, Aziraphale hands you cocoa, finalizing the matter, “I think we’ll get along just fine, my dear.”  
******
Countless hours later you’re sandwiched between them on a plush couch, Aziraphale (he insisted you didn’t have to call him Mr. Fell) with a book on his lap and Crowley with a drink in his hand. You’re halfway listening to the story Aziraphale tells, still delirious and in disbelief that you scored a job and somehow gained two companions you’ve felt you have known ages. The hours passed by quicker than you imagined and you didn’t want to leave. 
Months without a job and companionship have you linger in the doorway and you smile at them fondly, hating to leave but you walk back into the rain in your borrowed coat that fits your form.
You hadn’t remembered it fitting so well before, the universe worked in mysterious ways. But, you found a thread of hope, warmth, love and acceptance and you sure as hell aren’t letting go of it for anything.
Joy fills your heart as you walk out the bookshop door Crowley holds for you and Aziraphale presses a kiss to your hand, wishing you well. You don’t think you’ve been more excited for a job-or anything than you have now. No more moments you would take for granted now that you had them, a life complete and full of laughter and love. 
******
Time was cruel and a fickle thing. Two figures stand on a hill under a tree, leaning into each other, what others wouldn’t see is the phantom hand resting between their palms, one of a lover past, a companion dear to them slipping into another world.
Time could be cruel, but it had given an angel and a demon a mortal companion to care for alongside each other and blessing or cursing time, one thing is for certain, they were grateful for all the moments, no matter how limited, that they got to spend with you. And they had a silly little resume and a fateful deluge of rain to thank for it.
The taller one carefully drapes a long coat around the headstone, the shorter one following suit with a bouquet of flowers. In their arms they find solace, the ghost of you a mere fragment of their millennia of existence but they would live it over and again if only to be with you.
******
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lina-lovebug · 2 months
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Why is there a roll in the oven?
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Crowley x fem presenting! reader x Aziraphale
Background: you try and make a cute video revealing your pregnancy to your husbands but it goes wrong
_ _ _
You had it all ready.
Under the guise is getting something to pop in the oven for dinner, you went to the store to buy the usual groceries. Aziraphale wanted to join you, but you reminded him that he can't just close early.
Even if he never sold any books.
You quickly ran inside, bags in your hands but Crowley was in the kitchen. "Let me take those, love."
"No!" You shouted, stepping back.
"No. . .? Is everything alright?" You never rejected their help when bringing in anything, so this startled Crowley.
"Yes, yes. I just. . .don't want to ruin the surprise," you explained quickly, walking around him to place the bags on the counter top.
"Surprise?" His tone was suggestive, bringing heat to your face, "not that kind of surprise, Crowley."
He chuckled, the same smirk on his lips as he kissed the back of your neck sweetly. Crowley grew more touchy once your relationship blossomed. In public, his hands were always occupied by one on your waist and the other holding Aziraphales hand. Sometimes it alternated, but it was basically a warning to anyone looking. "Yes, they're both mine. Fuck off", was the statement.
"Oh and do let Azira know not to come into the kitchen. Thank you," You pressed a chaste kiss to your demon, who hummed before walking away with a smile.
The proposal was unexpected but sweet.
Having been together for years, Crowley and Aziraphale came up with a day entirely about you. They took you to your favorite bakery in France, went to the aquarium, dined at The Ritz for lunch and finally had a lovely dinner at home. Your favorite red candles were lit, the scent wafting through the air. Aziraphale started with a speech, pledging his eternal love for you. Crowley finished off by claiming how he felt undeserving of this kind of love, but loved you with his entire being and wouldn't have any other beings to spend his life with.
And they both proposed.
You cried - a lot, which initially worried them because "why isn't she saying yes???"
But you explained messily by saying you were planning to propose, pulling out a single box with two gold bands and inside carved "my heart, forevermore".
You all cried.
"Don't go into the kitchen, angel," Crowley put his hand on his shoulder as he came home for the day, hanging his coat on the rack.
"(Y/N) is planning a surprise."
"A surprise?" Aziraphale asked, "but it's not our anniversary. Oh, is it that strawberry cake we like?"
Crowley shrugged, "don't know, but she's serious about it."
After setting up the camera, an excited smile on your face, you set it to record.
"Azira!" You poked your head out, running to your angel before giving him a longing kiss. Aziraphale returned it happily, his hands setting themselves on your face.
"Someone's in a good mood," Aziraphales' voice dropped lower, which would usually send them into a spiral and beg him to use that voice in the bedroom.
But that was for later.
"Come, come," she ushered them both into the kitchen.
"Now, both of you, open the oven," she was grinning wildly, unable to contain her excitement.
"Both of us. . .?" Crowley questioned.
"Humor me, my love," she replied and her ineffable husbands obeyed, and stilled.
"(Y/N)?"
"Yes?"
"Why is there a roll in the oven?" Crowley questioned.
"And why is it on fire?" Aziraphale added.
"Oh shit!" She cursed, running to grab one of the many fire extinguishers that Aziraphale insisted they needed after the shop caught fire.
"Shit, shit, shit!" She yelled, running back and immediately putting out the fire. But she didn't stop using it, even after the flames were clearly out.
"Flower, put it down."
"My dear, is everything alright?"
Her lips were brought into a frown as she sighed, eyes clouding with tears. They exchanged a worried glance before the first sob escaped.
"I-I wanted to make it special, but now. . .oh I forgot I turned it on for dinner," she hiccuped as they brought her in for a hug. Crowley stroked her hair whilst Aziraphale pressed a kiss to her forehead.
"It's okay, my love. We can order out," Aziraphale reassured but she sighed in frustration.
"No, no, it's not that. I. . .bun in the oven!"
"Bun in the oven?" Crowley repeated, confused.
"Bun in the. . .oven. . ." Aziraphale realized, looking at his wife with a growing smile. "You're pregnant?"
"Yes, I'm pregnant," you laughed gently as you tried to wipe the tears but Aziraphale began to cover your face in kisses. "Oh she's pregnant! Crowley, we're going to be fathers!"
"Crowley. . .?" You asked, not seeing a response from him. He took off his glasses, revealing a light sheen over his serpentine eyes before he kneeled down and leant his head against your stomach.
"I love you," he whispered, pressing a kiss against your stomach and looking up at you, "thank you, my love."
"And it's twins," you added, causing your celestial beings to look at eachother immediately.
"Is it. . .?"
"I don't know. . .I mean, it could be. . ."
But they didn't care in reality. All that mattered was that you were healthy, carrying twin babies, a bun that was preciously on fire and ordering takeout whilst relaxing with your husbands.
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Text
Crowley: *gets a text* Oh! It's Y/n.
Aziraphale, excitedly: Did they get me the stuff?
Crowley: Yeah, they say they got you the clown costume, the power drill, and 12 gallons of blood.
Aziraphale: Wow! Where'd they find 12 gallons of fake blood?
Crowley: You wanted fake blood?
Aziraphale :
Crowley: I'll go call Y/n.
716 notes · View notes
Text
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Imagine confessing your mishap to Aziraphale and Crowley…
In that moment, you were quite unsure of what to do. It had been a wild few days and you didn’t have a way to call for help. Thankfully, you had a loyal friend who had been mindlessly fretting when you hadn’t checked in like usual. The sound of wings came crashing through the silence. Aziraphale and Crowley had found you after long hours of searching only to see an odd sight - you were over the corpse of a Roman.
“Is that… Caesar?” Aziraphale gasped. “Good lord.”
You crossed your arms and laughed sheepishly, “Yeah, things took a slight turn.”
Crowley’s brows raised from behind his glasses, “Slight?” He pointed at the body. “Y/n, the man was stabbed twenty-three times. I think it’s a little more than a ‘slight turn’. How’d you manage this?
“I was having a casual drink with Cassius and Brutus last night and we were talking and… oh - I see...” The realisation dawned on you and it wasn’t good.
“What is it?” Aziraphale asked.
You turned to the pair and squinted, “I may have mentioned that Caesar’s been acting like a king lately.”
“Yeah, that would do it.” Crowley commented. “Almost a shame that I missed it.”
~ More imagines here ~
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bi-bard · 9 months
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When a Demon Stumbles onto the Doorstep of a Bookshop - Crowley Imagine [Good Omens]
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Title: When a Demon Stumbles onto the Doorstep of a Bookshop
Pairing: Crowley X Reader
Word Count: 1,944 words
Warning(s): **SEASON 2 SPOILERS** mention of abandonment, drunk character
Summary: [Post-Season 2] After Aziraphale's departure, (Y/n) joins Muriel in the goal of taking care of the bookshop and the tasks that may come with that. One of those many tasks includes being prepared for the moment that a familiar demon finds his way to the doorstep at odd hours of the night.
Author's Note: Listen. I said that I was going to focus on my writing challenges. I know. But someone made this headcanon on Tiktok and I couldn't shake it. If anyone has the user, please let me know because I cannot find it, but I might also just be stupid.
-------------------
When I first found Muriel in charge of Aziraphale's bookshop, I knew that I needed to step in and help where I could.
Well, that's not quite right.
I actually started off very scared.
After what had happened the night before that with the legion of demons coming to attack and Crowley ushering everyone away from the building, I knew that I needed answers. The only way to get those answers was to get back to the bookshop when the coast seemed to be clear.
If I had slammed the doors open any harder, then they would have surely popped off the hinges.
What I saw was Muriel standing in the middle of the room with a stack of books in their hands. They jumped at the sudden noise, quickly scrambling to keep from dropping the books.
"Oh, you scared me," they said before placing the books on the table. "Hello!"
"Who are you," I asked, ignoring any introduction.
"I am a human police officer," they motioned down at their all-white uniform. Angel. Got it. "And bookshop owner... now."
"Where's Aziraphale?"
"Oh, just... off."
That was the very moment that my fear turned to annoyance and anger. "Off?"
"Yeah... y'know, off."
"Where?"
"Oh, well..."
I stepped forward. "Listen. Aziraphale has been one of the dearest in my life for years now. I know about the angel thing. I know about demons that were here last night. Hell, I know about the failed apocalypse. So, when I hear that he's 'off' and has left his beloved bookshop in the charge of some random angel that I've never seen, I get very upset and very worried. I suggest that you tell me what happened to him."
"I can't-"
"And I suggest that you do it quick because he is not the only celestial being that I have on speed dial."
That seemed to be the only push that Muriel needed to tell me everything that had happened while I was gone. Gabriel's memories coming back, Gabriel and Beelzebub running off together, the offer that Aziraphale had taken, and the one that Crowley had apparently turned down. All of it. Well, as much as Muriel knew at the time.
I stood there for a few moments. Stunned into silence.
"Are you-"
"He didn't even say goodbye," I muttered.
"Well, the Metatron seemed very insistent that he needed to go right away- where are you going?"
I had already turned around and walked out of the bookshop again. I looked down the street before going to grab my phone. I frantically clicked Crowley's contact.
It rang a few times before going to voicemail.
"Crowley," I murmured. "Please, answer. Please. I... I found out about Aziraphale and I... I don't know what to do or where to go. Please."
I hung up and walked a little further down the road, wiping my eyes as tears started falling.
The moment that I went to call him a second time, I heard a car engine racing closer to me. I looked down the road to see the all too familiar Bentley pulling up to the curb next to me.
I put my phone away as he got out of the car.
"Crowley-"
I was cut off by him pulling me into a hug. I hid my face in his shoulder for a moment.
"He didn't even say goodbye," I repeated pathetically.
"Trust me, it would've been worse if he had."
It was then that I knew that we were losing the same person, yet grieving two very different things.
After that day, I made myself a new home in the room that had previously been used by "Jim". I had thrown a bit of a fit about the bookshop being entrusted to some random angel instead of a friend. Muriel was kind enough to let me stay. I think that they needed the help, but I was willing to call it merely an act of kindness if it made them feel better.
I didn't know how beneficial my presence would be in the shop.
I knew that I could help organize and clean. I could protect Aziraphale's precious books and keep Maggie's record shop safe. I could try to teach Muriel how to appear more human. I knew that stuff.
I never expected to become accustomed to Crowley turning up at odd hours of the night, often- if not always- drunk.
He would knock on the door or just barge in, yelling for Aziraphale. He wouldn't stop until I had gone down there and broke the news to him that Aziraphale may not come back. That he might be staying in Heaven forever and we may never be able to see him again.
It hurt. And I imagine that it always will. Having to put him to rest on the couch or watch him stumble back outside.
He always wore his glasses, but the heartbreak was so clear that it passed the lenses too easily.
It was one of those nights that he told me the truth of what happened before Aziraphale left. What happened between them.
I had been startled awake by the loud sound of the door slamming open and shut.
I walked out of my room immediately. Muriel stepped out, but I held a hand out. I had been taking care of this since it all started. I wasn't going to stop now.
I walked downstairs, hearing Crowley calling for his angel as I made it downstairs.
"Angel!" he was spinning in circles as he yelled. "I know that you can hear me! Come here and talk to me!"
"Crowley," I said gently as I approached him. "Stop it."
"Angel!"
"Stop it!"
He didn't listen to me, instead still walking around and spinning as he yelled for Aziraphale to just talk to him.
He didn't stop until I grabbed his wrists and forced him to look at me.
"Stop, Crowley," I tried to keep my voice firm. "This is not going to get Aziraphale to come back! I don't even think that he can hear you! Stop it!"
The demon fell quiet as he stared at me. There was a long pause between us. I immediately began to question what I had said. I was constantly terrified of being too harsh. I didn't want to be some additional reason for Crowley to be hopeless over the whole event.
I grabbed the wine bottle that was sitting in his hand before placing it on the table nearby. "Come on... you're staying here tonight."
He didn't follow me when I tried to drag him over to the small couch.
"Crowley..."
"I don't... I don't want to sleep on that couch."
I frowned at him. "I'm not letting you sleep in your car right now, Crowley."
We both stopped. I had learned a lot about stubbornness over the course of my friendship with Crowley. And he knew that. And I'm certain that some part of him despised teaching me that skill.
"Come on," I said, dragging him toward the staircase. He followed me begrudgingly.
I pulled him to my room and motioned to the small bed in there.
"Go on," I pushed when he didn't move at first.
I heard him grumbling under his breath as he walked over. He somewhat flopped on the mattress, and I shook my head as I went to pull the blanket over him.
"Better?"
"Yeah, sure," he grumbled.
"Want to take off your glasses-"
"Leave them."
He hadn't taken off his glasses in front of me since Aziraphale left. Not that he often did anyway.
I took a deep breath and went to walk away.
"Would you...," he trailed off.
"What," I asked.
"Nothing. Never mind."
There's that stubbornness and closed-off attitude. "What is it, Crowley?"
"Would you stay?" he finally muttered.
"Just stay in here? Sure-"
"I meant lay with me. Please."
I glanced at the minimal empty space next to him for a moment. "Are you sure that you'd be comfortable with that?"
"I'm a demon. I have spent my nights in far more uncomfortable places than a small bed."
One day, I would need to question him on those 'I'm a demon' excuses.
I awkwardly shifted my way under the covers, fixing them over him as I did so. After a few more awkward moments, I reached out and wrapped my arms around his torso quietly. I expected some grumbling or some kind of fight. Nothing happened. Instead, Crowley merely sighed and seemed to relax into the pillow more.
I spent some time thinking. Mainly about whether or not demons actually had any need for sleep or for blankets to keep warm. I had thought about it before.
There was plenty that I knew.
I knew that food was more of a luxury than it was a necessity. I knew that they had a lot more control over things around me than I thought before. I knew that they could travel to and from Hell with a particular elevator or particular stairways.
I also knew that Crowley had the ability to sober himself up in an instant.
He had shown me that trick ages ago because I was curious.
So, when he began showing up at the bookshop while completely drunk, I questioned why he wouldn't sober himself up when on the couch or in his car or on any occasion like this.
It didn't take me very long to figure out why that was the case.
It was grief.
Not just normal grief, but grief for someone who was still very much living and breathing.
There was something so much worse about grieving someone who wasn't even dead yet.
When they aren't dead, there's always some remaining shred of hope that they will choose to come back. Which should be comforting, in theory. But when they don't come back... it only feels like a constant reminder that you truly may not be enough for them to fight for or want to fight for.
I could only guess that those thoughts were going through Crowley's mind because they were going through my mind.
"I kissed him."
My ears pricked up at his sudden words. "What?"
"I kissed him," Crowley repeated.
I knew that Crowley and Aziraphale loved each other. It was painfully obvious. I always thought that one of them finally saying something about it would have a dramatically different ending. I imagined them both hiding away in the bookshop. Not much changing... just what was normal for Aziraphale and Crowley but with a little more hand-holding. Not this.
I took a deep breath. "When?"
"After I rejected his offer to become an angel," he explained. "He had told me all about the Metatron's plan. I would have rejected it no matter what, but I had just been scolded by Nina and Maggie for not telling Aziraphale about how I felt. It just... It felt like the only chance that I had left to get him to stay."
I wondered if Crowley was telling me this because he trusted me or if it was merely because he was drunk.
"I miss him."
"I know," I muttered, hugging him a little tighter. "I miss him too."
I closed my eyes as I did that.
What else could I offer?
There was so much that I could understand. So much that I could offer him in terms of help and comfort. All I could do was hope that everything would eventually work itself out.
And at that point, that hope was getting harder and harder to hold onto.
Maybe some force in the universe would keep me from letting go of it completely. Eventually.
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Excuse me and my sis for crying because of Good Omens as I curse shit at Azi... She just watched and finished the second season, now I'm trying to console her while being like this:
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hikarry · 8 days
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Imagine: South Downs. Crowley had to fight off predators from his chicken coop
Aziraphale was in the kitchen, reheating his tea.
The day had been peaceful, as so many others for the past few months after the failed Second Coming.
He would spend the day reading or studying and Crowley would either sleep, watch TV, listen to music way too loud or be in the garden with his plants and their adorable little chickens. Chickens that he had refused to get at first, but now treated like children - not in front of Aziraphale though. Never in front of Aziraphale. But Aziraphale knew.
The angel was about to put a biscuit in his mouth when he heard a loud noise, like a bark. A very very loud bark. The biscuit slipped his fingers and ended up on the floor. He stood still, waiting for another noise, and when he heard a loud hiss, he turned off the stove and ran toward the back door, opening it abruptly and invading the garden.
The first thing he saw was the gigantic snake in his chicken coop. A well known snake, at that.
Careful, he got closer, just in time to watch Crowley hiss again at something Aziraphale couldn't quite see yet.
The two poor chicken were hidden in between his black and red coils, maybe a tad more strangled than the demon intended.
"My dear-"
Crowley looked back for a second, caught off guard, squeezing the chickens more tightly without noticing. That's when Aziraphale finally saw the couple of foxes nearby, both looking quite feral, if he was being absolutely honest.
The snake looked back at the animals, approaching them carefully and hissing again, making them take a couple of steps back.
"Oh dear oh dear. Let me."
The angel snapped his fingers and the feral expressions fell off the foxes' adorable lil faces. They looked quite stunned, like they just had woken up from some type of deep sleep. When they noticed the big snake still looking at them, both ran away without thinking twice.
When the coast was surely clear, Crowley transformed back into his corporation, picking up his sunglasses that had fallen when he transformed and putting them on by reflex.
Aziraphale smiled, adoring, and opened the little gate to the chicken coop - careful to close it after entering so the poor dears didn't run away -, approaching his partner.
"Very fierce."
"Shuddup."
"I am being very serious." The angel reached out, taking a couple of feathers from Crowley's hair. "Our local hero."
Crowley rolled his eyes - you could tell by the way he moved his neck along with it - and looked down at the chickens. They were both on the other side of the coup.
"Guess I gave them a scare."
"Don't judge them too harshly." He tapped his arm, ending by closing his hand around Crowley's bicep. "If a gigantic snake squeezed me out of nowhere, I would also get scared." Crowley gasped, looking down at the angel, who slapped his chest playfully. "Not you, my dear. Never you."
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owen-writes · 4 months
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Dysphoria Blues
Ineffable Husbands x Gender Neutral Reader
No pronouns but the reader is implied as transgender
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You were feeling a bit off today, the weight of dysphoria settling on your shoulders like a heavy cloak. Sensing your mood, Aziraphale and Crowley decided to take matters into their own celestial hands.
Aziraphale, ever the caring one, ushered you to the living room, adorned with soft cushions and warm lighting. "My dear, I can't bear to see you like this," he said with genuine concern. "Crowley and I have devised a plan to lift your spirits."
Crowley, leaning against the doorframe with a sly grin, added, "Yeah, angel and demon dream team at your service."
They gently guided you to the couch, Crowley's touch reassuringly warm against your skin. Once settled, Aziraphale fetched a weighted blanket, draping it over you like a comforting embrace. Crowley, with his characteristic swagger, took his place beside you.
Aziraphale's soothing voice filled the room as he began reading aloud from your favorite book. "Darling, we thought this might distract you a bit," he said, his eyes sparkling with kindness.
Crowley, with his characteristic wit, chimed in, "And if it doesn't, blame the angel. I'm just here for moral support."
You couldn't help but crack a small smile at their banter. Aziraphale continued reading, his voice like a balm to your troubled soul. Meanwhile, Crowley, draped in an air of nonchalant confidence, had his arm around you, fingers tracing absent patterns on your shoulder.
"Angel," you murmured, your head nestled comfortably in Aziraphale's lap, "thank you for this. It really helps."
He looked down at you, his expression softening. "Anything for you, my dear. We only want to see you happy."
Crowley, playing his part, smirked and whispered, "Yeah, don't go thinking we're turning soft or anything."
As Aziraphale continued reading, Crowley's fingers found yours, intertwining in a subtle display of solidarity. "You know," Crowley said, his voice lower now, "you're not alone in this. We're here for you."
You nodded, feeling a warmth spreading through you—a warmth that had nothing to do with the weighted blanket. Despite Crowley's tough exterior, there was a genuine concern in his eyes, and you couldn't help but appreciate the effort they both put into making you feel better.
Hours passed in the cozy embrace of the weighted blanket, Aziraphale's voice becoming a lullaby, and Crowley's presence a steady anchor. As the story unfolded, so did a sense of calm within you.
In that shared space between an angel and a demon, you found solace—a reminder that love and care transcend celestial boundaries. And as the words of your favorite book wove a tapestry of comfort around you, you couldn't help but be grateful for the extraordinary beings who had chosen to share their ordinary, heartwarming moments with you.
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