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mimisempai · 1 day

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Our invisible scars

Summary

Aziraphale and Crowley have no visible scars, but the ones you can't see are the ones that hurt the most. Fortunately, each is the other's healing balm.

Notes

50 Types of Kisses - Writing Prompts - Complete!!!

Last kiss: A kiss, followed by more that trail down the jaw and neck.

On Ao3

Rating G - 1327 words

When Crowley entered the bookshop, he immediately sensed from the quality of the silence that something was wrong.

He called softly, "Angel?"

"I'm here."

Aziraphale's voice came from further inside the bookshop, so the demon stepped forward and was astonished to find the angel sitting on the sofa, elbows on knees, head in hands.

Though the sofa now often welcomed both of them, it was almost common knowledge that it was the place of Crowley and the armchair belonged to Aziraphale.

Now absolutely certain that something was wrong with his angel, the demon came to sit beside him and asked softly, "What's wrong, Angel?"

The angel straightened up and replied quietly, "Nothing serious. I just had a little talk with Muriel about scars."

Crowley, confused at first, asked, "Scar?" then grabbed the Angel's hand and continued, now worried, "Did you hurt yourself? You have a wound I don't know about? But how? What happened?"

Aziraphale smiled faintly before replying, "Don't worry, I've got nothing. After all, we don't mark, we're angels and demons. In fact, this was the subject of our discussion with Muriel: they had trouble understanding the concept of having a scar, the human concept. And so, as I explained it to them, I realized that you and I have our share of scars, even if they aren't visible."

The angel's expression darkened as he added, "Even if they aren't, the memory of the injury is very present and is like a visible scar, the reminder of the wound that was here. Not completely healed."

It was then that the demon understood what the angel meant and nodded before gently taking his lover's hand and waiting for him to continue.

Aziraphale intertwined his fingers with the his lover's before resuming, "Talking to Muriel made me realize how much Heaven had scarred us, all of us. And I couldn't help but think that you probably had the biggest scar of them all, and especially that I had contributed to rubbing salt into it for many years."

Crowley understood absolutely nothing of what the angel had just said and looked at him in complete confusion as he said, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

The angel squeezed the demon's hand and explained, "You were cast out of heaven. You went from being an angel to being a demon, and every time you told me about something you'd done, I told you it was normal because it was your nature, because you were a demon, while all I did was reopen the wound, over and over again, without allowing it to close. I'm sor-"

Aziraphale was unable to continue because Crowley had swiftly removed his hand from his and had just grabbed him by the shoulders, holding him firmly before saying in an almost harsh tone, "You're torturing yourself for this? Angel, if you only knew, it's been so long since that scar healed. And it's thanks to you. Your trust when I was supposed to be your enemy, your acceptance of who I was when we met again. Do you think I really took it to heart every time you told me that it was in my nature as a demon? No, because despite your words, I knew we were on the same side, that you had my back as much as I had yours. In fact, I think you've got it all wrong. The one with the most scars, or the deepest scars left by Heaven, is you, Angel."

"Crowley, it's not true, I didn't--"

The demon shook his head to stop him and replied, "Don't tell me it's not true."

He placed his hand gently on the angel's chest and said more softly, "This here, this sweet heart, has endured the bullying of Heaven for more years than it takes to say it. You've endured belittlement, condescension, scorn far more often than I have, and by your own. From those who were supposed to be on your side, more than from me, who was supposed to be your enemy. I don't care if they say I'm a demon, that it's in my nature to do evil. I know who I am. As long as I have your trust and love, the rest doesn't matter. You forced yourself to do what they wanted, even when it seemed unfair, and when you dared to think outside the box, they just tried to put you back in it. All of this was like a wound that never had time to heal, reopening over and over for thousands of years."

The demon watched the angel swallow several times before he let out a long sigh. Then Aziraphale placed his hand on Crowley's still on his chest and said in a voice slightly hoarse with emotion, "But it healed. Thanks to you."

The demon shook his head, but the angel continued insistently, "You healed it and you continue to heal it, Crowley, with every little word of praise, every kind word buried under a layer of humor, every time you encouraged me to just be outside the box. For 10,000 little wounds inflicted by Heaven, you, your presence, every time, was the saving balm that took the sting out of it all. So no matter how much I suffered, I knew you would ease the pain."

The angel raised the demon's hand to his lips to press a long kiss to the palm. But as he moved to release it, Crowley slid his hand to the back of the Angel's neck and pulled his face closer to his own, crushing his lips against the angel's.

The kiss, tender at first, soon became fierce, each clutching the other's face as if each were the other's lifeline.

Then, little by little, the frenzy of the kiss gave way to something gentler, and Crowley's hands slid from the angel's neck to his shoulders before gently pushing him back until the angel had no choice but to lie back on the sofa. Crowley, for his part, moved so that he was lying on top of Aziraphale, both elbows framing the face lit by a small, trembling smile.

The demon, visibly moved, pressed a light kiss to the angel's lips and said softly, "All these scars, I wish I could kiss them away one by one.

His gaze was caught by a tear rolling down the angel's cheek, and he wiped it away with his lips, beginning a trail of kisses that spread along the cheek to the angel's jaw before following the curve down to the hollow of his neck.

Once there, the demon straightened and placed his hands on the first button of the angel's shirt, looking him straight in the eye.

Aziraphale, understanding the silent question, simply nodded.

Crowley smiled gently at him before opening his shirt, button by button. He didn't undo all the buttons, just enough to expose the angel's chest.

Then the demon leaned forward and said softly, "I wish I could kiss it better," then closed the distance between his lips and the bare chest and planted a long kiss on it.

He let the kiss linger until he felt Aziraphale's hands rest on his head and the angel forced him to lift it, saying softly, "That's what you do, you kiss it better, and that's long before you put your lips here."

Aziraphale ran his thumb over the demon's lips before pulling him up and saying softly, "Come here."

He drew Crowley's face to his and planted a soft kiss on his lips before wrapping his arms around his lover to hold him close. The demon buried his face in the angel's neck and slid his hand between their pressed bodies, right where he'd kissed him on the chest. On his wounded heart. Between their wounded hearts.

They stayed like that for a long time, in an embrace that did more than words to soothe the scars the past had left in their hearts.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable kisses series : here

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here

Ineffable Growing Love - Series post S2

Part 1 Story 1-99

Part 2 Story 100-?

#good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #aziraphale #crowley #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #50 kisses

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thelizaport · 7 months

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That Neil Gaiman quote but GOmens

"I would softly and silently vanish and my name would be erased from the book of life" has been rolling around in my brain for a month and it was a freaking joke response to an ask for bts on sandman. Mr. Gaiman, respectfully, wtf.

Anywho, I turned it into a silly lil Good Omens comic so enjoy!

#good omens #good omens fanart #good omens fanwork #good omens fandom #ineffable husbands #ineffable idiots #Crowley is honest for once #And Aziraphale is completely scarred by it #Kind cw for suicide idealization if you squint #Also Crowley's tattoo is taking a nap somewhere on his back if you squint #Because I totally didn't forget to draw it lmao #aziracrow #aziraphale #anthony j crowley #give me season 3 or give me death

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wrengrif · 2 months

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I rub my hands together..

Because I am having more Thoughts.

Big thanks to @badaziraphaletakes for pointing out the fucking obvious to me.

We talk a lot in this fandom about trauma, how Heaven and Hell leaves different kinds of psychological, and physical scars on our angel and demon. Mostly though, we focus on the psychological damage that comes from Heaven and the physical torture that comes from Hell. I am of the belief that Heaven and Hell drop a lot of both on their environs, but that's a post for a different day.

Trauma isn't that simple, though. It doesn't matter what kind you face, your reaction to it is going to fall under animal instinct. What is truly horrifying is the realization that Crowley's and Aziraphale's gut reactions are completely the opposite of what their Bosses are.

When Crowley feels like he, or Aziraphale is in danger, instead of fangs out, he's looking for the nearest escape route. The easiest way to make the problem go away. He runs away -- but of course he runs away. If he doesn't run away, he's going to be tortured. He is going to receive physical damage for making a mistake. So flight is the best option. The ability to get away, to think of how to avoid that pain, one way or another, is so Crowley-coded. I've always stated that Crowley is the strategist, the one who makes the complicated plans. He takes himself away from the problem, so he can analyze the problem. He runs away, and then he turns back. Once he has enough physical safe space, he can sit back and look to see what can be done.

He never had a chance to do that really in the last days of Armageddon, because Hell was nipping right on his heels and he had to keep retreating. Until he was put in a corner, and then you saw the Serpent come out. His fear of pain lasts until he is more afraid of losing his life, or Aziraphale. For example, the bucket of holy water. Walking into a consecrated church. Walking into a burning bookshop. The M25 - he literally drove Right Into The Fire, even with Hastur there because he had to get to Aziraphale and he had to survive driving through a ring of fire. Crowley runs from pain, but that doesn't stop him from attacking if he's got no other options.

Aziraphale is the opposite. His trauma is one I am well acquainted with, and that is psychological abuse, and torture. Don't let it fool you - just because you aren't having someone hurt you with a screwdriver doesn't mean it's any less devastating to your body, much less your mind. What Heaven does is use Fear. Fear like a scalpel, or a baseball bat to your knees. The Fear of Falling, the Fear of being considered Unworthy of God's love. The Fear of being considered less than your fellow angels, although you'll always be lesser than archangel. Fear of being yourself, fear of being anything less than perfect. All the fucking time. Nothing can save you, but us, and if you turn against us, you're screwed. Aziraphale, though, he doesn't run. He's never run. He's a Guardian. A Principality. He held a flaming sword and he held it well. Oh, he will bald-face lie to God, to archangels, to Crowley, but he doesn't run. He will try to find a way out of it with the most convoluted stories. He'll smile, look pleasant and distant and not quite there. Don't notice me. Don't worry about me. I'm not doing anything wrong for you to hurt me. Only thing he fears more than Heaven is Hell, and he's not even scared of Hell as a concept, but as a fact of Hell will hurt Crowley. Hell will take Crowley away. Hell will reach up and snatch Crowley away in a heartbeat and there isn't anything Aziraphale can do about it. Fear, fear, fear. Yet he doesn't run. He fights. He fights with words, and when there's nothing left with that, he fights with his wits, and then when he has no more left of that - he stands his ground with a weapon. A sword. A halo. His own physical body, if necessary.

Where am I going with all this?

That Season 3 is going to be You Reap What You Sow. Crowley is trapped in his misery and he can't run from it, because Aziraphale is in danger. Aziraphale is trapped and afraid, and he can't do anything about it because they'll hurt Crowley. What neither Heaven or Hell has realized yet - and I especially mean Heaven in this juncture -- is that they haven't given Crowley or Aziraphale any choices. They've been trapped in a corner by both of their abusers.

Their abusers who have never seem to learn the lesson that if you trap Crowley and Aziraphale in a corner, they're going to turn around and bite. Bite as hard as they possibly can - just to protect one another.

#crowley #aziraphale #good omens meta #good omens #good omens 2 #good omens 3

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dee-morris · 7 months

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The Miscommunication That Started It All

It's not explicitly said out loud in the show, but we've all pretty much agreed that Crowley was mentally tortured and his memories wiped when he Fell, right? I feel like this is generally accepted as a well known fact at this point. His familiarity with Jim's condition seems pretty on point. "I know it hurts. Do it anyway." Sounds like he's speaking from experience there.

And I think that some of the unconscious judgment of Aziraphale that I see round the fandom stems from this. How can he align himself with an organization that would do that to his best friend? He'd have to be naive to the point of stupidity to believe a place like that could be rehabilitated.

The obvious answer to that, imo, is that he never knew. Crowley didn't tell him.

People have commented more than once on the irony of the Serpent of Eden, who gave wisdom to the humans, made a pet hobby out of keeping information from his only friend. But I think this is where it started. Crowley hinted at what had happened to him, "the angel you knew is not me," but he probably let Aziraphale assume that it was his experiences in hell that scarred and traumatized him, not his experiences with heaven.

What would Aziraphale have done had he known? There are two possibilities. The first is that he would assume that Crowley must have committed some terrible crime to deserve such a punishment, which would have permanently changed their relationship and possibly destroyed it. The second possibility is that Aziraphale would turn his back on heaven completely and fuck the consequences. (I feel like he was hanging on by a thread in a few places as it was.) Both of these options are deeply unpalatable; one would have destroyed Crowley and the other would have destroyed Aziraphale. I don't blame Crowley for taking the easy road and keeping it to himself.

Did Aziraphale ever ask what it was like? Doubtful. You don't randomly bring up traumatic life experiences with the guy you're trying to flirt with. He had to know it was painful, and Crowley would have discouraged any conversation on the subject. Does Aziraphale bear any blame or responsibility for his own ignorance? Fuck no. It was Crowley's story to tell, and if he didn't want to that's his business. It's not Aziraphale's job to fix him.

But I do think that this is what started his habit of not sharing unpleasant truths with Aziraphale. He didn't tell him what he found out about Gabriel in heaven, he didn't tell him what Gabriel said to him when he tried to set him on fire, and he didn't even tell him he was homeless. It feels like he spent huge chunks of their relationship selectively editing.

No wonder he was in the doldrums. That's what happens when you can't vent and bitch properly. Imagine how much better their relationship could have been if they'd been able to scream together about the fucking unfairness of it all.

Manifesting for season three. 🤞🤡

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #crowley x arizaphale #good omens season 2 #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #aziraphale my beloved #good omens meta #crowley good omens

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novthewolf · 8 months

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Two’s company, three’s a family - Part four

Summary : As a cupid, an angel of love, your mission was to make sure everyone was paired up with the right person. Yet you couldn’t get your two most ancient clients to finally end up together. And despite the 6,000 years spent on the case, you couldn’t bring yourself to give them up, oblivious to the reason...

Pairing : Aziraphale x Crowley / GN!Reader x Crowley / GN!Reader x Aziraphale (polyamorous relationship).

Parts : First - Previous - Next

Masterlist : Here

Warnings : foul language, gun use (none violence), mild nudity (chest), description of a scar, adapted non-con touching, slow burn, english isn’t my first language.

Words : +4k

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(5 years later)

Okay, let's go through the plan one more time: You had successfully made them head to the park and sneaked on them with the blindness spell. Now all you had to do was send a wave of empathy and tenderness their way to set the mood, then tiny little memory balls of their favourite moments together. You had tried to send them a huge orb, the happiest and most wholesome memory they share, but it didn't result in the desired effect. No, you had struck them with your arrows, and instead of finally confessing, they went to grab a bite and called you to join them. The facepalm was so audible that it worried them.

You grunted discreetly and took a deep breath. Let's do this. You sent the orbs their way and waited for the right moment to shoot. In an effort to calm your nerves and heavy breathing, you closed your eyes and threw your head back to watch the ever-changing clouds. Their backs were riddled with arrows, and that was not enough to complete their bound. One might argue that this bond might not be as physical as others, that it was platonic, or that it was deeply spiritual. But you were a love angel. Maybe a bit atypical, yes, but a love angel nonetheless. You knew what type of relationship they shared: it wasn't passionate or sexual, but there was deep and affectionate love. The one who lasts Why else would they still be stuck together ?

You were a lot more serene now, as you caught a whiff of compassion coming from below. You soared up in the sky and slowly backflipped mid-air, enjoying the reassuring scent of fudge and marjoram. A few minutes passed before you detected the smell of snowy nights: worry. You sighed and landed.

Okay, let's try again.

Bow in hand, the strongest of your arrows grazing against the wood and the cord. The rough material digged in your fingers as you sought the pain to distract yourself from your thoughts. Instead of staying behind, you stood up in front of them, with enough space between the three of you. You stretched your arm, and you felt the muscles of your back tensing and flexing in a soft burn. You steadied your breath and focused on the goal. You kept your head high as you watched. It was thick yet vaporous and deeply stunning. It didn't have a colour, and they didn't really need it; it was already beautiful just the way it was. You just need to seal it.

And without further ado, you shot them right in the sternum. Striking right in the heart was definitely not recommended; the reaction might be too strong and violent to bear. It was equivalent to using a dagger. You shivered at the thought. But it would be the subject of another chapter.

You observed the bound ripples, both of their energies intertwining. The bound gained light as the two were talking about God knows what. But the smell of snowy nights remained. So you gently sent a wave of peace their way to sooth things down.

However, like every previous attempt, it didn't work out. It was like it wasn't enough ! Every time the light reached its peak, it would immediately die down without any reason. And it had been like this for 6,000 years. Understandably, you were slightly irritated. You stared at the pair with wide eyes. You were boiling with exasperation, and the repressed squeal that threatened to pass your lips was the perfect summary of your annoyance.

Oh, just end up together already ! What's stopping you ?

Hands and eyes twitching, you morphed your bow into a machine gun and absolutely gunned down the two out of pure frustration. You twirled around them so many times, hitting them in the shoulders, stomach, thighs, etc. You knew it was foolish and counterproductive, but you just... You felt so overwhelmed. You growled.

How can someone be so dense ?

For fuck's sake!

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After running in circles like a goldfish in its tank for about twenty minutes, you finally felt dizzy enough to let yourself collapse on the ground and throw a tantrum like a child. Soon enough, you got up, face blank, after your nervous breakdown. You decided it was of no use anymore. Maybe you were just incompetent, not strong enough to complete a bond between an angel and a demon. And the thing is, you can't just ask another cupid to help you out. As helpful and understanding Mihael is, she still wouldn't accept to sort things out. It wasn't allowed. So maybe the best thing is to just let things be. You looked up to their banch and inspected them. Azirphale was seated on the left side, and Crowley was in the middle. He seemed to sit pretty straight too, not that it really mattered; it was just a rare sight.

You shook your head. Contemplating things from afar had never been your thing, whether you were stuck in heaven or right now. You enjoyed spending time with them so much. And if you couldn't seal their deal and the end of the world was approaching, the only thing you could really do was, well, be by their side. So you called off the spell and climbed up to their little spot.

"Y/N ! Oh, it's good to see you ! We were wondering where you were." Aziraphale got up to greet you. Yeah, you kind of disappeared for the last five years...

"I haven't seen you for a while; how've you been ?" Crowley asked, and he slouched back a bit to look up at you.

"Heh, fine. My department was quite demanding recently. Sorry, I couldn't help you more with the kid."

You sat next to Crowley, with the angel doing so as well. You hold back your laughter at the image of three birds on a wire, watching the world from afar.

"Oh, don't worry, the kid's perfectly normal." Aziraphale chirped, proud of their work.

"Well, we've done everything we can." He tilted his head towards the young boy and his mother. Wow, you didn't even notice them. Careless was what you were.

"So, all we've got to do is wait for his birthday?"

Crowley simply hummed in response before crossing his arms. You looked over at Aziraphale when you caught the scent of worry, grapefruit, and oregano—the smell of nervousness. You sent a soft wave of reassurance his way.

"The hellhound is the key. Shows up at 3:00 on Wednesday."

"R-Right... You've never actually mentioned a hellhound before."

Cough. Thank you, Crowley. Really helping.

"Oh yeah. Yeah, they're sending him a Hellhound to pad by his side and guard him from all harm." He stated as if it were a matter of fact.

"Aw, what a nice gift... And thanks for the heads up, by the way." You glared at him.

"Oh I would have loved to warn you, sweetheart. If only you had shown up a little bit more often..."

You two simply stared at each other in a childish competition. In the end, you grunted and rolled your eyes. Mmph.

"Well, won't people remark on the sudden appearance of a huge black dog ?" Aziraphale asked. "His parents, for a start ?"

"Don't think so; I'm sure if you pressed your ear against theirs, you could hear the sea..."

"They're right; no one will notice a thing. It's reality, angel." He held his breath for a second. "And young Warlorck can do what he likes with that, whether he knows or not."

A heavy silence fell between the three of you, your apprehension clear.

"It's the start of it all: the boy's meant to be named." Hum..."

"Widow Maker, or Throat Ripper, or Black Death..." You started to suggest names. You liked Black Death, actually...

"Well, aren't you creative?" Aziraphale eyed you.

"But !" He exclaimed to gain your attention back. "If we did our job properly, then the boy would send it away unarmed." He explained.

"What if he does name it?"

"Then we have lost; he'll have his powers, and Armaggedon will be days away.."

You knew he was just pretending his indifference, but it never failed to surprise you how good he was at it. Aziraphale brought his hand to his face and rubbed the sides of his nose. He exhaled loudly before talking.

"There must be some way of stopping it."

You hummed in agreement. Though Crowley seemed to already have planned something too. He turned to Aziraphale first.

"If there was... no boy, the process would stop."

"Yes, but there is a boy." He pointed towards the boy. You spotted him behind the trees as well.

"Oh yeah... He's writing a rude word on a description of a dinausor." You mumbled. Maybe you could have taught him a thing or two about being furtive.

"Well, there's a boy now." He rolled his eyes and turned to you. "That could change." You knew he was implying something. You just couldn't quite put a finger on it.

You shot him a quizzical look, asking for more information.

"Y'know, something could happen to him."

You observed his features for a few seconds... Yep, you were still not good at solving riddles. With a bit of a pout, you shook your head, showing you didn't get it. In response, Crowley growled, threw his hands in the air, and slammed them on his thighs.

"I'm saying you could kill him !" He alternated between Aziraphale and you, awaiting your reaction to the obvious.

"Oooh..." Mmh. Yeah, killing wasn't really your thing. You'll have to pass on that one.

"I've never actually killed anything." He scanned the area to avoid the idea itself. The poor thing It's hard to believe that he was originally given a flaming sword.

"I don't think I could." The last word was almost strangled in his throat. He was so wan... The thought of killing a child made him ill. It sickened the three of you, actually. You smelled the dread on Crowley too.

"Not even to save everything ?" The demon kept staring at him, pressuring him to consider the idea.

"One life... against the universe ?"

You heard him grunt so softly, and you got scared he might faint. So you tried to calm things down.

"Mh.. If this, uh, Hell Hound doesn't find its master or vice versa, maybe it could stop the process too." You nudged your elbow against his vest.

"Right, yes. We should be there ! Y/N and I could stop the dog." He gestured your way with a big smile painted on his face. His brown/green eyes suddenly lit up as an idea flashed through his brain. "In fact, I could entertain."

"Oh no, no, please no."

"Oh yeah! That would be so cool. You cheered and got up from your seat. You loved his magic tricks! And even if he hadn't performed publicly in a while, Aziraphale would usually show you his progress when you would find yourselves alone together.

"Yes ! I just need to get back into practise." He pulled out a coin and immediately dropped it.

"Oh no, no. Don't do your magic act."

"Psst, don't ruin it. C'mon, scoot over!" You pushed him a bit with your hip. He made an offended sound but did as you said.

Azirphale rolled the coin a few times, faking its disappearance. You giggled at his expression of astonishment while grumbling in the background.

"Please ! I'm actually begging you." He said this as you captured the falling coin. "Ugh, you have no idea how demeaning that is."

Rather than listening to Crowley's incessant pessimism, Aziraphale stood up and tried to impress him by pulling the coin out of his ear.

"Woah !" He whispered.

"In your finger." Ever so pragmatic. You growled, but the angel was more patient.

"No, it was in your ear!"

"It was in your pocket."

"It was, mh, close to your ear."

"Never anywhere near my ear."

Disappointed, Aziraphale returned to his seat next to you. You nudge your shoulder against Crowley's.

"You're no fun." You smirked.

"Fun ?" Aziraphale hummed while looking away.

"It's humiliating! You can do proper magic. You can make things disappear." He tried so hard to convince him; that was also amusing to watch.

"It's not as fun." The angel grinned his way. Crowley simply scoffed.

"Make you disappear." He waved your way. You stuck your tongue out.

Mmph !

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(Wednesday)

The hellhound was a minute away. Your clammy hands tuck behind your back. The rough fabric of the black security suit triggered the small nerves in your fingers, making them spasm. You inhaled deeply and held your breath for a minute. Anticipation had you chocking; exhaling was so painful. You groaned, annoyed by your own anxiety.

"Where has he got to? Is he in here, somewhere?"

You felt your lips twitch upward. Aziraphale was tapping the top hat with his wand, glancing at the children to catch their reaction. But there was no point; the sea of children was bored to death.

"What's this?" He reached into the hat and slowly grabbed the bunny. Yes, you gave it to him. As well as the dove. Which you haven't seen in a while...

"Could it be our dear old furry friend, Harry the Rabbit?" You glanced at him to show how gently he handled the critter. You hummed and nodded. You sneaked a bit of food from the nearby buffet. Crowley was eyeing his watch, his brow raised. You sighed.

"You're rubbish." Warlock asserted himself rudely. Adorable little thing.

"Excuse me, excuse me." Another kid called out, "He's right, you know. You are actually rubbish." Backing up your friend—how sweet!

Quietly, you heard Crowley count down. You tensed up and smelled myrtle and dust make their way to your nostrils. Breath. Your teeth glared, and your jaw was hurting, but you couldn't care less.

"Three, two, one..."

...

Woah.

You kind of felt like an idiot standing there, ramrod straight, awaiting something that either took its sweet time or was simply not coming at all.

Heh.

Yeah, let's not tempt the devil.

You abruptly sent a wave of mischief to the closest kid around. And so began the end of Warlock's birthday; may it rest in peace. You dodged the food as much as you could, but you still received cake on your neck and cheek. The bunny was still hopping around, and you quickly seized him. Shouts and screams filled the whole tent as you joined Crowley outside. Lucky for him, his white suit was as clean as could be. A cake flew by, but the redhead hastily put his hand on the back of your neck and helped you escape it. How kind.

Finally, you stopped at the Bentley, wanting Aziraphale to catch up with you. You softly put the rabbit down close to the hedge. Mmh. Be free, little buddy.

"It was all a bit of a disaster, I'm afraid." He was himself covered in cake and cream.

The angel was searching for something through his sleeve.

"Yeah, maybe it wasn't the best plan." You rubbed the back of your neck.

"Nonsense. You gave them all a party to remember." He opened the car door and grabbed a tissue. He wiped the bit of cream off your cheek. Your lip twitched, and you looked over at Aziraphale. Still, you accepted the tissue to clean your throat. He shrugged.

"The last one any of them will ever have, mind."

He opened the door for you, but you kept staring at Aziraphale, who pulled the dead dove out of his sleeve. M-My baby. Your lips quivered, and the angel's eyes were terribly filled with guilt. Rusty metal and tuna, ugh. He swiftly turned the dove on its back and tapped its chest. Miraculously, the bird woke up, and Aziraphale gently helped it take off.

The angel gave you a sorry smile, but all you gave him was a sharp look. And, stubborn as you were, you kept staring in the back seat. Crowley chuckled.

"I told you putting it up your sleeve was a bad idea."

Aziraphale just grunted and took his place in the passenger seat. With a sigh, you let yourself fall back.

"It's late." You simply said:

"It's five p.m." Crowley simply answered.

"Not that, the Hell Hound." You bolted up and rested your arms on both of their seats; your hands brushed against their backs.

The demon incites you two to stop talking. Instantly, the radio sizzled. Both angels went silent as a voice called for Crowley.

"Hello Crowley."

"Mh, hi. Who's this ?" You unconsciously grabbed the side of Aziraphale's collar and started twirling it around.

"Dagon, Lord of the Files. Master of Torments." Heh, sweet job.

"Yeah, just checking in about the Hell Hound..."

"He should be there by now."

You were a fool. That is what you three were trying to confirm by exchanging glances as you realised the huge mistake you had made. Aziraphale and I looked frantically all around the car to maybe catch a glimpse of black fur.

"Why ? Has something gone wrong, Crowley?"

"Wrong ? No, no. Nothing's wrong. What could be wrong?" He bit his upper lip. "Oh no, I see him now, yes. What a lovely big hellhound!"

Oh for the fuck of...

"Yes, okay, great talking to you." He finished before exhaling the breath he'd been holding.

The three of you look straight ahead, mouths agape. You were ready to laugh and cry at the same time. Seriously ? Why did this have to be so complex too? The angel slightly turned his head towards you.

"No dog." Aziraphale said, despondent.

"No dog." You said, glazed. You slightly turned your head towards the demon. "Wrong boy."

"Wrong boy." Crowley said, Gloomy.

You leaned your head against the window and closed your eyes. In the corner of your eyes, you saw the little rabbit jumping around; you also spotted a small snake and a swallow looking at them from above. You chuckled at your lack of attention.

Your life has never been a long, quiet river; why would it change now ?

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The rain leisurely dropped on the bookshop door. You couldn't take your eyes off the street; all the humans were walking through the droplets, trying to escape something that would stain them anyway. Still, the colourful way they have to shield themselves from it is so particular and beautiful. Your eyes caught the sight of a couple hiding beneath their shared umbrella. Laughing, nudging each other, kissing... How could you not want to save those precious moments?

"Y/N ? Do you plan to leave already ?" Aziraphale asked from behind you.

You turned around and sent him a reassuring smile. No way. The carpet fell soft on your bare feet. Nice change, given that the last time your skin touched this floor, your cheek burned from rubbing the rugged fabric. You snatched Eden's brush and called for her as you sat down.

"No, don't worry. I won’t leave, especially since Armaggedon is days away and you'll need all the help you can get." You winked as you stroked your miniature cow's fur.

"I can't believe we lost the Antichrist," Crowley groaned. His forehead rested on his hand in a dejected manner. "Why did the powers of hell have to drag me into this anyway ?"

Aziraphale disposed of three glasses next to the bottle before picking it up and serving the drinks.

"Well, don't quote me on this, but I'm pretty sure it's because of all those memos you kept sending them, saying how amazingly well you were doing."

He gave you your drinks and sat down. Crowley scoffed.

"Is it my fault they don't check up ?" You gently slaped his hand—he kept messing Eden's coat—and murmured : 'pet her head'. He tsked. "Everyone stretches the truth a bit in memos to head office."

"Yes, but you told them you invented the Spanish Inquisition." Aziraphale reminded.

"And started the Second World War." You added, taking a sip of your drink. Crowley's nose scrunched, not ready to admit anything.

"So the humans beat me to it. That's not my fault."

You and Aziraphale shared a knowing smile and look. The angel shook his head and bowed his head to drink. Yet you not only heard sipping but also sniffing. You directly glanced at Crowley.

"Something's changed." He stated it darkly.

"Oh, it's a new cologne. My barber suggested it.

"Not you. I know what you smell like!" Crowley snarled and kept sniffing around. You didn't think much of it, actually. You could smell emotions, so it was totally possible for Crowley to at least remember his linked smell. One day, after a few drinks, he confessed that Azirphale's scent was cedarwood and sundae. The smell of comfort—it's just so cute! He even surprised you when he told you your scent was valley and nectarine, because, you know, you've always been a meadow person. Meh.

Crowley froze.

"The hellhound has found its master."

"Are you sure ?"

The tension rose again as the angel asked with dread.

"I felt it. Do you really think I would lie to you ?"

"Well, obviously. You're demon. That's what you do." He didn't really mean it, but the grapefruit smell couldn't fool anyone.

"No, I'm not lying. The boy, wherever he is, has the dog. He's named it." He sighed. "He's coming into his powers."

"We're doomed." You squeezed Eden. She mooed, agitated by your fear. Crowley petted her head.

"Well, then, welcome to the end times."

You all cheered for that.

Fuck...

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Sleep was just a bastard, wasn't it ? You didn't really need it, but it allowed you to free your mind from intrusive thoughts. It just kept slipping away from you, leading you to lay there on your bed, the blanket barely covering you.

Inhale, hold, and exhale.

You were tapping your heart rhythmically. It was the most efficient method you found to calm yourself. If you're wondering, no, you shouldn't feel this way. You shouldn't feel anything at all. Especially you... No fear, nervousness, joy, or anything! Not because you were a cupid... Your emotions should only be put in the background but still be there. But it would only apply to you if you have... You just wish you hadn't lost it. A single tear rolled down your cheek. You did your best to keep the memories away. It just hurt too much.

You couldn't help but scratch your scar. If Aziraphale saw the extent of your wound, he would never let it go. Almost your whole arm was covered with the same scar. It runs diagonally from the shoulder down to the upper arm, marked by a combination of raised and discoloured tissue. The pattern was irregular, a mixture of claws and mild burns. The skin around the scar might be slightly darker and sometimes lighter. The weird mix of smoother and rougher textures as the scar tissue blends with your normal skin has always disturbed you.

"You know what ? You should just cut it and get a clean one. Your arm is just plain disgusting." A voice mocked you from your window.

You knew who it was, and you were even surprised. You sat up and sighed. Just your luck... You were too emotional for this.

"Hello, Adriel." You were absent and vague.

"So, how have you been doing ? Still empty, as always ?" His back collided with the window frame. Just go away.

"I am fine. Thank you. I too hope you are doing well." You looked straight. His face was too punchable for his own good.

"Yeah, yeah.. So ! Are you ready for war ?" He was so eager to mock you. "Remember: you don’t attack us; you know cupids, okay?" His smile was so fake, you wondered if his heart was broken. He scooted down on your bed, too close to you. Honestly, you were not bashful, but your bare heart was just too exposed, and his hands were too unpredictable.

You were running out of time. And fucking patience.

"Wow, I'd never seen what your heart looked like before!" He laughed while openly stirring at it. "It's so disturbing; can you even look at yourself in a mirror?"

Still, you knew what to expect from Adriel. Cruelty and absolutely no consideration for others. Apart from Mihael, obviously.

Your grip was iron, and your eyes were made of ice. You couldn't take it, not tonight. He wouldn't get his filthy hands on your heart.

"I'm going to fight for my side, Adriel. I hope you'll be ready to fight for yours." You growled. He gasped and freed himself from your hold. His pink eyes scanned yours, but you didn't look away. He tumbled back, landing on the window frame.

"D-Don't ever touch me again, you freak !" He spat, disgusted and terrified. You watched as he flew away, but no smile managed to appear on your lips.

You're right... I can't bear to look at my heart; I'm too afraid to find every bit of it crumbling down on your hands.

But I would be damned if I didn't use the remaining pieces to feel the love those two have for one another.

You laid back, caressing softly from the side of your heart to your belly. You didn't know love angels could so strongly bind and love others, but you're so glad you do.

Your mind finally drifts away, and you finally sleep. Rocked by flashes of Aziraphale and Crowley and... the surprising smell of love.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Oh, Y/N... What happened to you ? U,w,U

Hope you enjoyed it ! Bye !

Parts : First - Previous - Next

Tag list : @legendary-maddie @kpop-athena @drugs-for-memes @emo-queer-boi @cunning-girl @mochikofi @brain-has-left @cup-of-tee007 @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @somekale08 @liyacreate @msyolocat-blog @scoliobean @notahappystan @nebulagoddess @ray-rook @brain-has-left

#good omens #crowley x reader x aziraphale #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x reader #crowley x reader #david tennant #micheal sheen #ineffable husbands #good omens s2 #neil gaiman #twoscompanythreesafamily #lgbtq

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kotias · 4 months

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The Final Story - The Big Five

This is the final bomb I am launching for the Angst War on @goodomensafterdark It is specifically targetted at: - @gleafer - @vavoom-sorted-art - @daneecastle - @gahellhimself-blog - @lauramoon1987

And using their comics made for the war for this final magnum opus.

GIGANTIC thank you to @daneecastle for your gorgeous cover art for this final missile and for accepting that I use your Koka.

As a soundtrack to the entire piece, I propose this soundtrack from the critically acclaimed MMORPG Final Fantasy XIV, with an expanded free trial thanks to which you can play through the entirety of A Realm Reborn and the award-winning Heavensward and Stormblood expansions up to level 70 for free with no restrictions on playtime: Niddhog's Theme - The Final Steps of Faith

Trigger warnings: death, torture, emotional anguish

Word count on Reddit: 524 words

Final word count on AO3: 3141 words

“For fuck’s sake angel, you can’t just-”

“I can’t what, Aza? Leave? Of course I can! I can, like you always are, like you’re leaving me behind every time you’re getting bored of me!”

Koka stormed out of the Fell & Co. bookshop, feeling his feet burn the concrete ground with thousands of starlights. With an enraged wave of his right hand, he caught into the weaving of the current reality and opened it, stepping into another world.

oOo

Before he finished stepping out of the portal, he heard the shrieking cries of the angel he knew as Muriel, and his heart froze in his chest. The voice carried their pain, carried their anguish and the loss they had lived before that. Lingering in the rotten air, the memories of the eyes ripped apart from all the surrounding angels assaulted him. He ran to the place he heard the screaming from and almost gagged when he heard, before he saw, the cracking of their skull and neck. He hid back behind a wall, keeping his mouth shut with his hand, panic settling in his stomach.

Hmph… useless little soul.

The smell of celestial dust was brought to his nostrils by the air, and he slid down to the floor, petrified. His heart was beating so loudly that it took over his head, bumping and thumping against his temples, and closing his eyes made it all worse-

He heard footsteps stop right in front of him, and he opened them, only to be faced with the Supreme Archangel, looking at him like he was but a poster to be ripped away and smashed to pieces. He heard himself wheeze in panic, just as Aziraphale’s hand slid down the wall until he was crouching in front of him, giving him a smile colder than the void of Space. “Tell me, little, shivering angel…” Anything, anything, please, anything. “Why does your hair wear the colours of the demon Crowley?”

Koka stayed silent, his body entirely frozen, counting each fraction of a second passing before he would inevitably be destroyed by the being looking at him with the eyes not of a Guardian, but of an Executioner. When his left hand cradled his right cheek, he whimpered and closed his eyes, trying to muster the power he needed to get away.

The portal expanded under him, and he drowned into the floor’s opening weaves with a yelp, leaving the broken Supreme Archangel behind him and carrying with him the scalding feeling of his hand, leaving a scar by his right ear.

oOo

He fell for days without end, his breath losing the battle against the strain of the wind. It was interminable and unstoppable; his collapse was both too fast and too slow for his portal to reopen for him, if even it had been allowed to. The curse he was living through felt like a rift from Time itself. Only when he was about to land did he feel his powers in his grasp again, and he crashed painfully against a dented rock.

“Oh… oh Lord, what happen-” His mouth couldn’t finish his sentence, the shock put him in comatose.

Read the complete piece on AO3

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #good omens s2 #good omens season 2 #aziracrow #good omens 2 #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #angst war #good omens after dark #GOAD

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thesherrinfordfacility · 5 months

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Honest question, not trying to pick a fight, but what's Crowley traumatized from if it's not the Fall or whatever else Heaven did to him in the Before? I'm pretty sure he does have trauma (unless you're arguing he actually isn't that badly traumatized period?) and I somehow feel it would be counter-productive to no difference between the sides if that came exclusively only from what Hell did and none of it from Heaven. (I'll also say though it's certainly not proof in any way I do find it hard to imagine the experience not leaving any scars behind, eternal damnation and dive into boiling sulphur and all whatnot.)

hey anon!!!✨ nah, my opinion is that there just isn't the canonical evidence that crowley has suffered trauma at all. we don't know for certain how he fell, we don't know for certain the reason why he fell, and we don't know what his relationship with heaven/god was like before the fall. we definitely have insight into it, from:

pre-fall scene

how he treats his plants/the goats

his drunken ramblings in the pub

(and the seemingly contradictory "sauntered vaguely downwards to aziraphale)

the "unforgivable, that's what i am" thing at the bandstand

and various other things, his sneers at heaven etc etc.

all of these things, to my mind, can be definitely interpreted as symptoms of and responses to trauma... but he could also just be really bloody angry and upset by it. anger/sadness and trauma are not mutually exclusive, of course not - but not all trauma is anger/upset, and not all anger/upset is necessarily trauma. crowley has demonstrated that he's an unreliable narrator; imo, that's the thing that we should be taking as canon (that the fall may not have been what we're imagining it to be, and that crowley's account may be incredibly biased/inaccurate).

we're not shown anything that suggests he was abused by heaven, or suffered a singular huge, or any series of, shocking or distressing event/s. absolutely, you can read into everything shown to us so far and evaluate that, when the final puzzle pieces land, we will be shown that crowley definitely suffered trauma... but equally, what if we're not? what if we're shown that crowley's fall was... a bit bland?

i mean, what if it's the difference between crowley having been rejected by his peers/family, for something completely innocent, and then essentially put through unimaginable, torturous pain through the physical act of falling... and being sacked as part of a massive lay-off that he essentially volunteered for, but thinks was grossly unfair? those are obviously really contrived, polarising examples, deliberately on opposite ends of the spectrum, and the likelihood is that the true events are somewhere in the middle -

- but my point is ultimately that until we're shown exactly what happened, whilst what we've been shown so far doesn't preclude the possibility of trauma/crowley being traumatised, a possibility is all it is; imo, it's not exactly canon at all✨

#essentially. we need a fall scene #good omens #ask #crowley meta

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aziraphales-library · 1 year

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Hello! Thanks for all the fic recs! They’re really helpful

I apologize if this has been asked before and I didn’t see it, but do you have/know of any Wing fics for the ineffable pairing?

Perhaps where one of them’s wing is injured and the other cares for them?

Many thanks

: )

Hi and you're welcome! We have a #wingfic tag in our masterpost—please remember to check that first! Here are some wing injury fics to add to the collection...

Broken Wing by Wyns_Old_Fics (T)

Years of being left un-preened leaves Crowley’s wing hurt and broken. Aziraphale is there to take care of him, and heal both physical and mental scars.

Hazardous Reading by EdosianOrchids901 (T)

Aziraphale tends to get too distracted by books and not watch where he’s going. One day, he makes the mistake of reading on the bookshop stairs and loses his balance. He’s too hurt to heal himself, but luckily Crowley is in the area.

Feathered Downfall by fractalgeometry (T)

Crowley doesn't usually fuck up this badly. Hell isn't usually this mad. It hurts.

He didn't think he wanted Aziraphale to show up at his house afterwards, either, but maybe...maybe that part is all right after all.

His Own Kind Of Angel by Z A Dusk (E)

After Armageddon't, Aziraphale and Crowley think they're safe.

They're wrong.

Aziraphale has heard stories of angels with their wings cut off, thrown into a sealed room and left to die. The rooms were soundproofed, because the inmates’ screams of agony were so horrifying that it was believed other angels would go insane just from hearing them.

But that was all rumour … wasn’t it?

Blood Makes Noise by rattatatosk (M)

She seems to have noticed his discomfort, because her grin only widens. “You look nervous,” she says sweetly. “Didn't think anyone was reading all those reports you filed, did you?”

Crowley doesn't bother replying to that. They both know the answer.

“I wonder,” Lissek muses, tapping her lip with a single neon claw, “how long you thought you would be able get away with this.” She hums, flicking another paper to the floor. “Looking at these... you've been getting sloppy, haven't you. Did you really think no one would notice? That no one would ever check?”

Wings of Porcelain by Dickenangelo (T)

"I think they're pretending it didn't happen." Good Omens, p. 218.

Not everyone is happy to pretend that the failed Apocalypse never happened. Some of those unhappy entities pay a short visit to Aziraphale’s bookshop, a visit that would cost him not only his wings but also his newly regained confidence, as well as his favourite mug – and that is completely unforgivable.

His demon is there for him. Of course he is!

But what can he do when the angel’s mind seems to turn against him?

Mind the tags on most of these!

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #wingfic #wing injury #hurt/comfort #graphic depictions of violence #mod d

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sentientsky · 6 months

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Excerpt from one of my gomens fics, in which I reveal that I have abandonment issues (and should probably start going to therapy more often. whoops!):

Three years, eight months, and seventeen days ago, the world had nearly ended. Again. And he and his angel had (with a great deal of help from Muriel) brought it back from the brink of destruction. Again. And when the metaphorical dust had cleared away, the Almighty had found him in the dawn of a new world, all unearthly gaze and shimmering ethereality. She had offered him a complete return to the way it was before—not as a principality or even an archangel. No, She offered him the chance to be as he once was: an engineer, the Starmaker, a seraphim with all of creation at his fingertips and all of divinity at his feet. In a new world, too—one without Heaven or Hell, She promised. He had gripped his angel’s hand tighter, felt him return the pressure in equal measure.

Crowley had leveled his gaze at Her, terrified but unflinching in the face of so much heavenly heat. Like looking into the sun.

He would not leave, would not fall prey to a God that made too-pretty promises. Even if She had let him ask all the questions he desired, he would still refuse, and he told Her as much.

She had accepted this decision with a somber nod. Eyes full of plasma, She’d looked at him one last time and asked for forgiveness.

“My dearest Starmaker, I hope you understand.” A flock of birds flitted across the sky behind Her. He tracked their movement from the edges of his vision. “I am so sorry for all the pain I caused you.” She reached up to try to touch his face.

He pulled back, nearly snarling.

Dreadful memories of falling from a great height flashed through his mind. The taste of sulphur coated the back of his teeth, noxious and terrible.

“You let me fall. You pushed me—for asking questions ,” he had hissed, all venom, all jagged teeth. So many eons of abandonment, of sheer loss…Well, it does something to a not-person, to a beating, not-human heart. You learn to go cold, to slow your breathing and keep yourself boarded up and hidden. Your body learns to react to affection like a rejected organ transplant. You carry on through life scarred and spitting and backing against the wall like a cornered animal. You believe you don’t deserve tenderness. You believe it will ruin you. Because to love, to let yourself be loved, is to turn all vulnerable and underbellied—to show your hand in a game of cards with everything on the table.

And yet…a very young, hands-trembling part of you yearns for it—begs, desperate and hungry and aching, for love. Like a starved dog with all its ribs showing. Like Sisyphus pushing that damn rock, knowing full well which way the hill slopes.

After so long spent in the mires of self-destruction, Crowley would not—could not—forgive Her. For not only the violence inflicted against him, but also against the entirety of a vast universe. He would heal himself—had been healing himself—but he would not give Her the satisfaction of forgiveness. A breeze picked up, tossed scarlet hair against his forehead. He set his jaw, felt his heart slam against his chest.

“I know.” Her gaze softened. “I made a mistake.”

He’d barked a laugh at this, strangled and bitter and full of unspent wrath. “No fucking shit.”

Aziraphale inhaled sharply beside him, and Crowley could practically feel the anxiety burn through his palm. But She made no move. She didn’t pull the edges of reality apart and rummage through the outer reaches of time. She didn’t pull the Book of Life from between worlds and condemn him to the heavy violence of non-existence—of never-having-been, never-will-be.

She only murmured into pearlescent air, quiet and resigned and infuriatingly serene, “I would take it all back if I could. I’d go back. Set things right.”

But she could, he thought, if she really wanted to, of course. She was God, after all—the Almighty. The one who held all the strings, the one behind the curtain, orchestrating the whole damned symphony. Was not everything within her control?

But of course, too much had transpired, too much had been changed in the last little stretch of eternity. And in truth, would Crowley have changed it—pressed restart—if given the chance? His gaze had flickered, momentary, to Aziraphale. From his periphery, he traced the soft line of his jaw, the arc of his curls. He breathed deep and tasted familiar bergamot on his tongue. Would they have been able to replicate what they had now, given the opportunity to do it all over again? How many times does lightning strike the same ground twice?

“Okay.” A beat. A ragged breath. “I hope you don’t expect me to forgive you.”

“I do not. And that’s alright; I understand.”

Thank u for reading!! Here’s the rest of the fic if u want it lol: x

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #good omens 2 #aziraphale #aziracrow #ineffable lovers #ineffable wives #good omens season 2 #go2 #good omens fic #good omens fanfic #good omens fanfiction #ao3 #ao3 good omens

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bone-yarddz · 7 months

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Good Omens Hot take(?)

Now, listen. I get the fanfics with Crowley and his burnt but pretty wings. And I get that in the canon universe (at least, the show universe) he has pretty normal, functional wings just black... but, what if his wings were like... actually fucked up. Like, they looked horrible and mangled and they just, depressingly dragged behind him. What if they were caked in tar and blood and dirt and just, a complete dumpster fire. I really want his wings to actually look like it hurt to fall, like it was really a punishment. Wings that make you look him dead in the eye and say "nuh-uh" as soon as he starts the whole "sauntered vaguely downward" thing. I want people (me) to write about Aziraphale being genuinely afraid of going near them. I want his back to be covered in old scars and burns from when the wings have to come out. I would love it if he couldn't fly, hell, could hardly walk when they're out. Like, if you haven't got a clue how I imagine them, just think about both Hilly Wood's Good Omens parody and just "all the good girls go to hell" wings in general. The way they get covered in nasty goop, the way they drag behind the person, the way they go up in flames. Or, you can always look up burnt bird wings (or don't if you'd like to not get sad over birds right now idc) but my point is: The fall should have done a lot of damage to their physical forms in my opinion, and I wish that was put into play somehow, whether it being Crowley's bad eyesight or just fucked up wings or something man.

#i dont want them to fix everything first things first in s3 #i want them to tear my heart out and stomp on it a little #and if they wont do that then ill do it myself #good ineffable omens #good omens #innefable husbands #ineffable divorce #crowley headcanons #headcanon #does this make sense

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homemadeapplecider · 1 month

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Thank you @andromeda4004 for the tag! I've never done one of these before.

WIP Tag Game!

If you’re tagged, make a new post (don’t reblog this one) and share 1-2 sentences from your most recent unposted WIP(s) with zero context— Let your followers guess via ask or reply!

Easy

With each movement Aziraphale made, he could feel Crowley’s eyes on him. He didn’t need to look at the man at his side to recognize the hunger behind Crowley’s stare, but he did it anyway.

Medium (and from a super secret, maybe-i'll-post-someday fic)

But just because something is mended doesn’t mean the fractures go away. Even the brightest, most resilient love can’t cover every scar.

Hard

The vibrant glow from the LEDs in the window was completely swallowed up by grey irises. If the heavens themselves came down and graced the room in golden hues, those eyes would certainly drink from such a chalice and gladly shine amber in the afterglow.

No pressure tag - @gothicfairytopia I only talk to you and Andromeda so... why not? Bless us with your writing.

#good omens fanfiction

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fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic · 5 months

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Good Omens Fic Rec: Barriers, and the Breaking Thereof

Ezra Fell has long been comfortable in his loneliness. He’s content to simply run the Soho Public Library and otherwise keep to himself. However, when a handsome stranger bursts in one evening with a baby, frantic and in need of help, Ezra finds those carefully constructed barriers he’s long maintained begin to crack. Perhaps it’s time to let them fall.

Length: 71,209 words

AO3 Rating: Mature / Spice Level 🔥

Best for: Safe in Public, Pick-me-up, Romance, Human AU, Parent AU, Fluff

Triggers: None

Read it here, fic by Cardinal_Daughter

*Minor Spoilers* I am SUCH a sucker for parent AUs and this one really got my ass. This has to be one of my favorite parenting stories. Adam is written very believably at his various ages. I hate when kid dialogue is too baby or too advanced, this is that sweet spot. Crowley is such a good dad. He desperately wants to give Adam a better childhood than he had. And Aziraphale (Ezra) is a great parental figure as well. Becoming such a pillar of safety for Adam. I love that Crowley and Aziraphale don't just fall for each other because this is a fanfic and we know they will. This story takes care to show how their pasts have shaped them and where it has left scars, then shows us how Aziraphale and Crowley help each other to mend those jagged edges. They are both so lonely, but believably so. It's not weird that their chance encounter leads to a longer friendship, it's what both of them have been missing out on. This also allows them to be just friends for awhile. They both have feelings for each other, but they're not in agony over it. It's for understandable reasons that it hasn't progressed in a romantic sense, not just a forced conflict. They're just inexperienced, awkward, and happy with how things are going. I was also worried when it got to a certain point that it was just going to end abruptly, that they would share a kiss and that's it story's over. But thankfully it doesn't! It lets us see a bit of their happy ending, how they navigate changes to their relationship and make new traditions. It's such a natural friends to lovers story.

Completely safe in public until towards the end, but those scenes are not graphic so you'll still be okay. This is such a fluffy story, read it when you really need a pick me up!!

Read it here, fic by Cardinal_Daughter

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soulmatebracket · 1 year

Note

Hi ! Could you post a list of who has been submitted so far ? (With the number of submissions for each if possible)

If that's too much work i completely understand and humbly request to know if more that one person (aka me) have submitted Obi-Wan and Anakin

[Disclaimer‼️ Just because a pairing has three or two votes does not mean that they are automatically going into the bracket. Pairings with 1 vote might also make it in if I like them enough. We will not be starting arguments over if they should or should not have made it in.]

Totalling at 235 submissions so far!

Will be in the bracket:

Usagi Tsukino & Mamoru Chiba, Sailor Moon, IIIII (prelims)

Sailor Senji, Sailor Moon, III (prelims)

Link & Zelda, The Legend of Zelda, IIIIIIIII (prelims)

Link & Zelda & Ganandorf, The Legend of Zelda, IIIII (prelims)

Link & Fi, The Legend of Zelda, I (prelims/bc i like this ones)

Inuyasha & Kagome Higurashi, Inuyasha, IIII

Aziraphale & Crowley, Good Omens, IIIIIII

That Guy and Their Cat, Real Life, IIIII

Homura & Madoka, Puella Magi Madoka Magica, IIII

Eleanor Shelstroph & Chidi Anagone, The Good Place, IIIIII

Kim Dokja and Yoo Joonghyuk, Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, IIIII

Captain Kirk & Mister Spock, Star Trek, IIII

Naruto Uzumaki & Sasuke Uchiha, Naruto, IIII

Grian & Scar, The Life Series, IIIIII

Submission Box

Three Votes:

Breekon & Hope, The Magnus Archives

The Doctor & The Master, Doctor Who

Xie Lian & Hua Cheng, Heavens Official’s Blessing

Hawkman & Hawkwoman, DC Comics

Doctor Doofenshmirtz & Perry the Platypus

Meliodas & Elizabeth, Seven Deadly Sins

Ash & Pikachu, Pokemon Anime

Two Votes:

Sakura & Syaoran, Cardcaptor Sakura

Wei Wuxain & Lan Wangji, Mo Dao Su Shi, II

Utena & Anthy, Revolutionary Girl Utena

Judai Yuki & Yubel, Yugioh X

FitzChivalry Farseer & Beloved/the Fool, Realm of the Elderlings

Yusuf “Joe” Al Kaysani & Nicolo “Nicky” Di Genova, The Old Guard

Finn the Human & Jake the Dog, Adventure Time

Sakura & Syaoran Li, Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicles

Eiji Hino & Ankh, Kamen Rider OOO

Gon Freecss & Killua Zoldyck, Hunter x Hunter

The Entire Cast of Phineas and Ferb, Phineas and Ferb

Harrowhark Nonagesimus & Gideon Nav, The Locked Tomb

Daniel & Luce. Fallen

Gilgamesh & Enkidu, The Epic of Gilgamesh

Kaidan Alenko & Commander Shepard, Mass Effect

Raleigh Becket & Mako Mori, Pacific Rim

Adrien Agreste & Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Miraculous Ladybug

Bebop & Rocksteady, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Katarina Claes & Sophia Ascart, My Next Life as a Villainess

One Vote:

Mieczyslaw Stilinki & Lydia Martin, Teen Wolf

Spiderman & Deadpool, Marvel Comics

Beavis & Butthead, Beavis and Butthead

Obanai Iguro & Mitsuri Kanroji, Demon Slayer

Emma/Melinda & Dimitri/Edred, Unicorn: Warriors Eternal

Dean & Pharm, Until We Meet Again

Kaiou Michiru & Tenou Haruka, Sailor Moon

Zunzite & Zoisite, Sailor Moon

Phoenix Wright & Miles Edgeworth, Ace Attorney

Witch of Delays & Cure Oasis, Tropical Rouge Pecure

John Doe & Arthur Lester, Malevolent

Hani & Hinino Yamato, Hiraeth: The End of the Journey

Dream /Morpheus & Hob Gadling, The Sandman

Adachi & Shimamura, Adachi and Shimamura

Edward Nygma & Oswald Cobblepot, Gotham (2014)

Zelda & Ganondorf, The Legend of Zelda

Reginald Copperbottom & Right Hand Man, The Henry Stickmin Collection

Henry Stickmin & Ellie Rose, The Henry Stickmin Collection

Jonny D’Ville & Gunpowder Tim, Mechanisms

Merlin & Arthur, Merlin

Vash & Knives, Trigun

Siren & Kappa, Castle Swimmers

Ruby & Sapphire, Steven Universe

Om Kapoor & Shanti Priya, Om Shanti Om

Solane & Sym, I Was Teenage Exocolonist

Will Herondale & Tessa Gray & Jem Carstairs, The Shadowhunter Chronicles

Agent 3 & Agent 8, Splatoon 2

James Sunderland & Maria, Silent Hill 2

Macaque & Sun Wukong, Lego Monkey Kid

Tang Sanzang (reincarnated as Tang), Shah Wujing (reincarnated as Sandy), Zhu Bajie (reincarnated as Pigsy), Ao Lie (ancestor of Mei), and Sun Wukong (ancestor of MK), Lego Monkey Kid, Journey To The West

Nadja & Gregor, What We Do In The Shadows

Catherine Foster & The Ghost, Archivist Wasp

Kaworu Nagisa and Shinji Ikari, Neon Genesis Evangelion

Kiryu Kazuma & Majima Goro, Yakuza / Ryu Ga Gotoku

Red & Blue, This is How You Lose the Time War

Church & Tex, Red vs Blue

Rand al'Thor and Ishamael/Moridin, Wheel of Time

Birgitte Silverbow and Gaidal Cain, Wheel of Time

Beryl and Sapphire, Beryl and Sapphire

Kiana Kaslana & Raiden Mei, Honkai Impact 3rd

Banjo & Sento, Kamen Rider Build

Orpheus & Eurydice, Greek Mythology

Odysseus & Penelope, Greek Mythology

Emet Selch & Hythlodaeus & Azem, Final Fantasy XIV

Yona & the Four Dragons (Ki-ja, Shin-ah, Jae-ha and Zeno), Akatsuki no Yona

Akane Kurashiki & Junpei, Zero Escape

Ryo Asuka & Akira Fudo, Devilman

Zagreus & Megaera & Thanatos, Hades

Megatron & Optimus Prime, Transformers

Emma Swall & Killian Jones, Once Upon A Time

Rumplestiltskin & Belle, Once Upon A Time, I Snow White & Prince Charming, Once Upon A Time

Percy Jackson & Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson

Buttercup & Westley, The Princess Bride

Orchid & the Moon Supreme, Love Between Fairy and Devil

Blake Belladonna & Yang Xiao Long, RWBY

Ozma & Reincarnations, RWBY

Raava/The Avatar Spirit & Wan/The Avatar, Avatar: The Last Airbender

Johnny Silverhand & Vee, Cyberpunk 2077

Newt & The Brain/Alice, Pacific Rim

Dr. Strange & Dr. Christine Palmer, Marvel Comics

Bill & Ted, Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure

Lucifer & God, Abrahamic Religions

David and Jonathan, The Bible

Mickey Mouse & Minnie Mouse, Disney

Cinderella & Prince Charming, Disney

Dean WInchester & Castiel, Supernatural

Essek Theylss & Caleb Widogast, Critical Role

Lup Taako & Barold "Barry" Bluejeans, The Adventure Zone

Taako & Magnus Burnsides & Merle Highchurch, The Adventure Zone

Steve Rogers & James “Bucky” Barnes, Captain America Films

Mane 6, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic

Raven & Lloyd Allen, Shaperaverse

Nijigasaki High School Idol Club, Love Live Nijigasaki High School Idol Club

Shinichi Kudo & Ran Mouri, Detective Conan

Kusuriuri & Kayo/Chiyo Nomoto, Mononoke

Shun Shimotsuki & Hajime Mutsuki, Tsukiuta

Nanami Momozono & Tomoe, Kamisama Kiss

Red & The Boxer, Transistor

Yvaine & Tristan, Stardust

Jayfeather & Half Moon, Warrior Cats

Time & Fate, The Starless Sea

Sappo, Fragment 147

Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Star Wars

Ichabod Crane & Abbie Mills, Sleepy Hollow

Aragon & Arewn, The Lord of the Rings

Will Turner & Elizabeth Swan, Pirates of the Caribbean

Tom & Jerry, Tom & Jerry

Bugs Bunny & Daffy Duck, Looney Toons

Batman & The Joker, DC Comics

Akira Kurusu/Joker & Akechi Goro, Persona 5

Mytho & Ahiru, Princess Tutu

Dazai Osamu & Chuuya Nakahara, Bungo Stray Dogs

Koh & Canalo, Ryusoulger

Gai & Juggler, Ultraman Orb

Sonoi & Momou, Donbrothers

Haruka & Saruhara, Donbrothers

The Scooby Doo Gang, Scooby Doo

#mailbox #soulmatebracket #i also have not gone through and vetted every single one of these submissions yet #but everyone that makes it onto the bracket will be researched before hand

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feralbutfluffy · 8 months

Text

28. Aziraphale

Fury is an interesting thing.

It pumps adrenaline through the body, raising both heart rate and blood pressure, fueling a feeling that burns bright and brutal.

In the days of the Greek gods, fury was given form; the Eumenides were deities of vengeance, daughters of Nyx, with bat wings and bloodshot eyes.

Later, the Oxford Dictionary defined fury as, ‘extreme anger that often includes violent behaviour,’ and if that definition is accurate then it is true that Aziraphale had, so far, managed to always sidestep anything that might lead to that sort of trouble. Fury was a concept he had seen depicted in print, or in art, but it was something he had always observed from a safe distance.

Now, Aziraphale fairly glittered with it.

He had felt it begin to click into place from the moment Muriel had helped him establish the link to Crowley. The ache he had felt then - some warning of Crowley’s situation - had been a mournful cry for help, the kind of cry that echoes in silence and expects no reply, and fury had, for the first time, made itself known.

As soon as his eyes had locked on the broken figure of his dearest friend, it had enveloped him completely, closing over him like armour.

He could not seem to shake it off.

Something wild had surged in his chest as he’d surveyed the damage. He’d remembered Muriel’s earnest explanation of pyjamas as he’d taken in the tattered remnants of what had once been black silk trousers; Crowley’s only scrap of clothing. His mind had overlaid an image from the past over the image in his present…

His friend, then, sleek and stylish and hermetically wrapped in layers of charcoal and black.

His friend, now, half-naked and ripped to shreds, looking like he’d been hunted for sport.

And maybe he had.

He had wished for his flaming sword in that moment. He would have waited for those responsible and struck them down without a thought. But Saraqael had grounded him, reminded him of what needed to be done, and directed him during the healings. They had asked him to lift Crowley’s head, or move Crowley’s arm, or spread Crowley’s wing; directions that probably weren’t necessary outside of giving him something to do so that his mind didn’t splinter into maddened slivers of undiluted rage.

The urge to tear the place apart with his bare hands had been almost overwhelming. Instead, he had gritted his teeth and used those same hands to cradle Crowley’s head in his lap, his fingers catching in blood-matted snarls. He was hollowed out by sorrow, asphyxiated by anger, and the fury was inside him then, a stinging cold crawling through him until he shook with it.

Back at the bookshop, Aziraphale had knelt at Crowley’s side with a bowl of warm water and wiped away the blood with slow, gentle, deliberate strokes. Each bruise and scar revealed had stoked his rage. It had crystalised into something sharp and vicious and diamond-hard.

Afterwards, he had poured the water out in the sink and the colour of it had broken his heart.

Saraqael was a welcome ally. They didn’t conceal their disgust at the situation, just explained more fully what Aziraphale had already half-known; the Metatron had wanted to separate him from Crowley, believing them too powerful. Saraqael had been pragmatic about his choice to leave Earth.

“The Metatron used good bait. You were always a believer.”

“Yes.”

A sidelong glance. “I heard he spiked your earthly beverage with an extra shot of religious zeal just to be sure of your answer.”

“My coffee? ”

“Just a rumour. You probably would have made the same decision regardless. You’ve always been…” - Saraqael paused - “... eager.”

“But… But the Metatron succeeded. I was in Heaven. We weren’t even on speaking terms !”

The questions hung in the air unspoken. Why do this? Why take him?

“There was still contact, was there not?” Saraqael nodded their head towards the front of the shop. “Through Muriel? The two of you have never been able to keep away from each other for too long,” Saraqael wrinkled their nose in bewilderment. “God only knows why. Still, it did seem inevitable that perhaps a year from now, a decade from now, a century from now… you two would simply pick up where you left off. Unless… ”

“Unless.” Repeated Aziraphale dully.

“...Unless that possibility was eliminated.”

“But why Crowley? Why not me?”

Saraqael gave him a look that told him they wouldn’t be dignifying his question with an answer. Why would Heaven ever think to lose an angel to spare a demon?

Aziraphale had gone to Crowley then, bent his forehead to Crowley’s arm, silently begged for forgiveness, and Crowley had come to, startling him. He had warned Aziraphale away. He had warned him of danger he didn’t seem to realise was no longer present.

Aziraphale had stared at the thin white line that split his eyebrow and continued down his cheek, thought about his own failure to warn Crowley, and silently swallowed down the guilt threatening to choke him.

Or start from the top!

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