Seriously, this isn't a canon prediction or anything (honestly I might attempt to write a fanfic with this idea in mind). It's just random thoughts that go through my head and this is my attempt to make sense of them and write them out coherently.
We have Saraqael, an angel who seems to be more intelligent than most, with tartan cuffs and collar on their heavenly attire.
We have Muriel, a 37th class scrivener with a love for reading and a curiosity that none of the other angels seem to have, wearing tartan that matches Saraqael's.
So, I would assume that Muriel works under Saraqael, especially since Muriel went to Saraqael with the matchbox before either of them approached Michael and Uriel.
We see Jimbriel wearing Aziraphale's tartan blanket like a toga once he takes refuge in the bookshop.
And, of course, we have Aziraphale, former cherub and guardian of the eastern gate of Eden, always incorporating tartan into all aspects of his life on Earth.
What if the tartan that we see Muriel and Saraqael wearing is a symbol, perhaps a way to identify others who might want to dissent from Heaven's plans? What if it's a growing symbol of resistance?
Maybe Saraqael picked Muriel to observe the things happening on Earth because Muriel is good at appearing unassuming and aloof.
Maybe Muriel being asked to stay on Earth was what Saraqael was hoping for.
Saraqael told Aziraphale they would be sending an angel to log and verify the miracle. He knew Heaven would be keeping tabs after that.
What was Muriel reporting back to Saraqael? We saw what they shared with Michael and Uriel, but is that information that Saraqael told them to share? Did Muriel give Saraqael a more detailed report first?
Saraqael showed Crowley the truth of the trial despite declaring him the "enemy".
Could Saraqael have had anything to do with getting Aziraphale back into Heaven? Is it possible Saraqael thinks Heaven needs Aziraphale then?
Crowley now has information about Heaven that can be shared with Hell. Crowley knows Heaven would rather erase the memories of angels who want to walk away from Heaven instead of casting them down into Hell.
And Saraqael immediately followed Crowley back down to Earth without question.
What if Saraqael is the murder hornet? What if Saraqael is choosing to trust Crowley and maybe help Aziraphale in Heaven because Heaven sucks?
Saraqael has the device that erases memories, and more importantly, allowed Crowley to learn that information when showing him the footage of Gabriel's trial.
And now Saraqael will be in Heaven with Aziraphale while Muriel remains on Earth and most likely in contact with Crowley.
Mix this with the idea of Crowley taking up a position as a Duke of Hell and having that link to Heaven through Muriel, who remains in contact with Saraqael, who is working with Aziraphale, who wants to change Heaven because it's a mess.
Oh look, it's another recs post! This time I'm featuring two stories per author. These are writers I always make time for, whose work stands out as unusually hot, clever, funny, or smart -- sometimes all of the above.
I'm gonna start you out strong with two by @werpiper:
After Hours takes Aziraphale and Crowley to the baths after their oyster supper, and all sorts of interesting pleasures are there for our angel to sample. Piper's Crowley is one of my favorites: always evaluating the situation, not quite aware of what his own heart is doing but feeling it anyway.
Fitting In is a new story, still a WIP, but I am utterly tantalized by Muriel's first taste of love -- and tea. This is already rich in detail, soft and fragrant, and I can hardly wait for the action to get going in earnest. The pairing seems surprising but when you think about it for ten seconds of course it makes sense. Sex workers help the curious, the awkward, and the inexperienced every day, bless them.
If you enjoy these, check out @werpiper's back catalog -- they have done a ton of ineffables-through-the-ages, and their series Miracles and Heresy is worth many delightful hours of your time.
I love what @copperplatebeech has been doing lately:
He's Not My Friend is a T-rated story that explores Aziraphale's constant refusal to acknowledge his relationship with Crowley, and Crowley's mirror of that, and how things glacially shift over time. It is subtle and yet specific, it will make you ache and smile.
All Of The Above, also T-rated, is a warm and fuzzy alternative to that, a hilarious celebration of true friendship that made me laugh out loud and still got me right in the feels.
@copperplatebeech can do everything, from quiet, gentle, and romantic to devastating plotty AUs to extraordinarily horny established relationship to absolutely ridiculous humor. Do dive in if you haven't already.
Next up, @cumaeansibyl, master of kink:
better living through technology manages to shove everything I want in a dirty story into less than three thousand words: uptight Aziraphale reduced to sodden wreck, Crowley gleefully showing him what he's been missing, character-driven erotics, and exceptionally funny dialogue.
indulgentiam peccatorum nostrorum is somehow all that and more, turning the "I was wrong" dance into a kink (something I can't get enough of, recs welcome). This one is post-Bastille so it is extra-juicy. Mind the tags!
@cumaeansibyl has a gift for established relationship one-shots, which readers of mine will know are my entire jam. They also have a mind-meltingly hot inverse!omens AU that features different variations of angelic/demonic Crowleys and Aziraphales for our ineffables to play with.
A new-to-me author, Calico, has me hanging by a thread with their Ineffable Romans series. If you want to remember that your ineffables aren't human, that they are inordinately clever but very stupid, that the feelings they have for each other are truly beyond what anyone alive has ever felt, Calico may be the writer for you. This stuff is deep. Also hot af.
Sub Rosa reads like a nasty shag at Petronius', but there's so much more going on here. It is Extremely Queer, driven by power dynamics, and Crowley is fully demonic here and absolutely in control...or is he?
The Intemperance of Liber Pater continues on this theme, with dialogue-driven smut that reads less like a seduction than an inevitability. There's another story in this series, unfinished, and I can't wait to see what happens next.
Last but not least: two short pieces by @ineffabildaddy. I stumbled on their stories just this week and I absolutely love their approach, which I've not seen done quite this way before.
take me as your wife has a tight first-person perspective as Crowley meets Aziraphale for a meal and imagines (or is it his imagination?) that Aziraphale is suggesting Certain Things about how they might occupy themselves later. Indeed, is he suggesting even more? Something about their relationship? Or is it all in Crowley's head?
Only in Dreams is kind of a companion piece, from Aziraphale's point of view -- though hundreds of years later. This one's set after the events of S2 and although just as romantic as take me as your wife, it also offers an ineffable take on the ol' glory hole concept. Just in case you thought I was getting soft. 😏
@ineffabildaddy has a whole series of poems and ficlets like these and I can't wait to explore them all.
Chapter 43 of Don't Fall Away From Me is up on AO3! (M)
Yes, the penultimate chapter is here! 🤩
Artist Credit: @mistysblueboxstuff
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Summary: Crowley gets an unexpected visitor.
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Author's Note: the penultimate chapter is here!! Sending heartfelt thanks to everyone who has been so patiently waiting for me to finish it - my life sort of exploded in the worst possible way, so thank you, thank you, all of you, for all your kindness and love. Please leave a comment if you can, they're all that's getting me by right now.
whatever's supposed to happen in season 3 aside, i'm delusional
please enjoy silly ideas about what muriel, crowley, maggie, and nina get up to while aziraphale's gone :)
maggie and nina RUSH to crowley once they find out aziraphale left
both of them know the feeling of rejection and they support him as much as they can
they give him helpful breakup advice and check up on him periodically
over time, the three become good friends
maggie and nina are endlessly curious about the whole heaven/hell/angel/demon/universe thing and crowley answers what questions he can
since crowley's still not bound to hell, the three of them just vibe most of the time
muriel joins them on occasion, when they're not reading a new book
crowley, despite maggie and nina telling him it might be better to keep his distance from the shop for a bit, checks in on muriel and teaches them how to properly take care of the bookshop
as in, don't sell any of the books, don't rearrange any of the books, close and open whenever you want, etc.
occasionally, muriel, maggie, and nina will organize sort of "storytimes" where crowley shares some stories from his past
it starts with the ones without aziraphale. it's still a bit too raw to tell those.
but, eventually, he tells the story of elspeth in edinburgh. or the lost unicorn on noah's arc (which maggie swears she knew were real this whole time)
maggie and nina also teach muriel how to properly blend in with humans
they're not the BEST at it, but they're good enough that they can go get hot cocoa from nina's shop without people staring at them
crowley teaches muriel how to perform miracles. although, angelic miracles are just a bit different than demonic ones. so they both kind of figure it out together
muriel ends up miracling aziraphale's wardrobe to fit them. those are the human clothes they have access to, afterall.
and, besides, the style suits them.
crowley smiles at the look and doesn't comment on it. and nina gives him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
muriel shares the stories they've read with maggie, who listens enthusiastically
nina suggests muriel write a story of their own
regular customers at give me coffee or give me death now recognize the bookshop owner often in the corner pondering a laptop
nina taught them how to use it. crowley whispers to them that if they tell the laptop what to do with a bit of miraculous energy, it's a lot easier
maggie shows muriel some music. it's so much better than the celestial harmonies that they've had to hear for all these years
they end up liking everything they're shown. from aziraphale's old classical records they found in the bookshop to the queen that plays from crowley's car
muriel adores the bentley. and the bentley eventually warms up to them.
crowley takes muriel to see more of earth, once
well, more of england anyway
there's one time during the drive that the queen melts into an unfamiliar song. something about angels and nightingales.
crowley puts a fist to the dash and it switches back to queen before muriel can grasp what it is
while they're far from the city, the stars are much brighter
muriel hasn't had the chance to see them until then
and crowley tells them another story. about nebulas and galaxies and how they're made. and how gorgeous they really are up close.
muriel doesn't understand why crowley gets so sad talking about something he loves
sometimes residents of the street ask where mr. fell went
maggie and nina will respond that maybe you should mind your own business and they're sure he has his reasons
muriel will smile and say that he's gone on to heaven. then get confused when people offer their condolences
crowley doesn't say anything.
ms sandwich can put together that aziraphale and crowley were an item, though.
and she can certainly see that they aren't anymore
eventually, after a few months, maggie and nina start officially dating
muriel happens to be reading some of aziraphale's romance novels, and they find nina and maggie's relationship utterly adorable
if they ever mention as much tho, nina will tell them to piss off while maggie gets flustered
once, muriel asks maggie and nina when they figured out that they had feelings for each other
crowley is around at that time
muriel, excited by maggie and nina's answers turns to crowley and starts to ask him when he realized he was in love with aziraphale. but they trail off
nina had told them that crowley's not great at talking about aziraphale all the time
they have to wait until he brings it up, okay?
muriel apologizes, but crowley waves a hand
he explains the experience of the first rain
and maggie GASPS
"the rain! back when you were trying to get me and nina together! that was YOU."
Working title is "Aziraphale is going to get a good grade in sex, something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve"
"So!" Aziraphale said, plopping himself down in the chair opposite. "Urophilia."
Crowley glowered at him from behind the safety of his third-best sunglasses and his mug.* He hadn't slept last night — he rarely wanted to, these days — yet it was somehow still too early for this. "No," he attempted.
"I know we neither of us go in for the more, er, granular human bodily functions," said Aziraphale, without even the slightest hint of listening. Crowley took a certain amount of comfort in the fact that he still found this annoying as — well, his former employer's residence. He'd worried, in a vague sort of way, that if Aziraphale came back and they worked things out, became a proper us, that he'd start thinking everything Aziraphale did was wonderful. But even true love had its limits, thank — well, his other former employer's residence. "Did I ever tell you, I tried defecating once? Terribly awkward business, I had to make an anus and everything. But Cicero was very obliging in teaching me about the stick."**
Conversations with Aziraphale tended to fall into one of three categories. Either he was humming away in his default cheeriness, in which case he'd burble happily along with whatever Crowley said for hours on end; or he was in a pet about something, in which case he'd be drier than the desert outside Eden and Crowley'd be lucky to escape without injury to his pride or person. Or he was like this, in which case Crowley's participation was purely decorative.
Still, they were getting some stares. Nina hadn't started tutting yet, but she would do soon. "I'm not pissing on you," he said, firm. "And vice versa."
"Oh, all right," Aziraphale huffed, pulling out his spectacles and wrapping the temple tips fussily around his ears. He peered down at the magazine he'd apparently brought with him; even from here, Crowley could see some illustrations. They were… illustrative.
"What," he said with the conviction that he would regret it, "Is that?"
"It's 'Kinks and Fetishes: An A to Z Guide,'" Aziraphale said, handing it over with all the glee of a dog showing off a rotted tennis ball it had found in the back garden. "I've been doing more research, you see. Apparently, there's all sorts of sex we could be getting up to. I truly had no idea there were so many—" he waved his other hand around vaguely. "Configurations."
"Does Glamour have a print edition anymore?" Crowley asked, thumbing through the pages. There were a lot of illustrations.
"Not as such," Aziraphale admitted. "But Muriel found it for me on the World Wide Web—"
"Don't call it that," Crowley sighed.
"—and you know how I dislike reading off of those… screens," he continued, making a moue of distaste. "So I made my own proof copy, as it were."
Under "Tentacles," there was a stern reminder that you shouldn't have sex with octopuses.*** "Angel," he started, then paused. "Vicarphilia?"
"I thought it was something to do with priests and things, but apparently not," Aziraphale said, leaning over the table to point out the next one. "What about whipping?"
"No fetishes that I could've done professionally," Crowley decided firmly, shutting the magazine. He waved it away, out to the Tadfield Library where Anathama would probably find it and laugh for a week, then try at least a half-dozen of them out on poor Newt.
* Nina had set one aside for him after a while, since he didn't mind the permanent stains that had developed along the inside. "Pretty sure those are scorchmarks, actually," she'd complained. "On the outside. What did you do to it?"
** Roman public toilets were aptly named — men would gather to have a bowel movement and a chat, cleaning themselves off with a sponge on the end of a length of wood. Hence the phrase, "Getting the wrong end of the stick," something decidedly less pleasant when taken out of its metaphor.
*** Accompanied by a picture of a young woman doing exactly that.
Memory Reboot is the first multi chapter work I’ve started for the Good Omens fandom. There are currently two chapters up, and chapter three is … everyday it’s a-getting closer … being written.
I’m glad I returned to tumblr and began writing again. Words can’t express how patient, lovely and supportive all of you are.
Work Title: Memory Reboot
Chapters: 2 out of ?
Rated: T, subject to change
Current Characters: Aziraphale, Crowley, Raven, Muriel, the Metatron, Jesus, and Nina.
Michael Sheen, if you’re out there, please don’t read this. Also, hi.
Memory Reboot
I’d love to know what you think! Comments keep me writing. 💚
What are your thoughts on how an extroverted, confident, energetic MC would be with Muriel as an LI? (🪶)
Thank you for the ask, Feather Anon! I’ve been itching to do some creative writing outside of my story, so I hope you don’t mind that I’m writing this more like a short story/narrative style post.
Summary:
You command the room when you walk in, and everyone takes notice. He loves that about you; being riddled with constant social anxiety himself, it’s nothing short of a relief for Muriel to see that you don’t have to deal with it yourself. (Besides, it doesn’t hurt that it takes the attention off of him.)
He’s just worried that you’ll feel isolated and alone if you move in with him.
It’s exactly a month after the defeat of Lucio and The Devil, and everyone had gathered to celebrate together in the Rowdy Raven. He tries to stick to a corner in the back, but he is far too large and conspicuous to avoid the attention for long. Some people stare, others are braver and approach him to exchange a few words and express thanks. Muriel wants nothing more than to melt into a puddle. He appreciates not being looked at like he was still the Scourge, thankful that people weren’t afraid of him anymore. But the only reason he was here was to see you. You had been busy helping with repairs in the city while Muriel helped those still lingering in the camp outside his home, and hadn’t had much time to really talk or interact for the past week.
“You all didn’t start without me now, did you?” Your voice rings out as you stride in, and Muriel slumps back against the wall with relief. He watches some of the crowd clamor to get your attention as Julian passes you a beer stein, giving him room to breathe.
You look a little tired, he notices, but your face is practically glowing. Your eyes meet across the room and you light up even further, drawing a slight smile from Muriel’s otherwise stoic expression. He loves your smile. Immediately you chug your drink and begin pushing through the crowd, exchanging short words with a few other people before you finally reach him. He doesn’t even have the time to say ‘hello’ before you throw your arms around him in a tight hug that he quickly returns.
“God, I missed you so much.” You groan, tilting your head back to look up at him. Muriel lifts his hand, cradling your face gently in his large palm as he dips down to kiss your forehead—silently telling you he missed you just as much. “I didn’t have any time to visit this week and it was killing me, actually.” You stretch up on your toes and loop your arms around his neck, filling him in on all the little things he’d missed. Stuffy nobles complaining that they weren’t getting their homes repaired sooner, and Nadia putting them in their place. Helping Portia and the other kitchen staff with preparing food for all the displaced citizens. Julian and Asra, busy with healing and helping reunite separated families and friends.
He listens to you ramble on with a soft smile, and follows as you take his arm and lead him to the bar. “—but now I think I’ll have a lot of down time, which means I can spend more time with you.” Muriel’s smile widens a little more at that, and he can feel his face warm up when you shoot him a wink. Yeah, he knows what that means all too well. “Hey Lavinia, let’s get a round of black mead for everyone!” You call across the bar, knocking your hand against the wood loudly. “And put it on Jules’ tab!”
“Wait what—?”
A short laugh breaks past Muriel’s lips at Julian’s indignant squawk, and he catches a shit-eating grin plastered over your face as you settle onto one of the stools. Two mugs of the dark liquor slide across the bar towards you both, Muriel putting his hand out to gently stop them before they fall off and passing one to you. “What did he do to deserve that?” He asks, amused. You hide your smirk with your mug.
“Nothing.” You rest your chin in one hand. “I’ll pay it off myself, his reaction is just funny.”
“That’s a little mean.”
“It is a little mean, yeah.” You laugh, eyes glittering with mirth. The firelight reflects like spots of amber in your eyes, and he’s reminded of that first night. Your worried face and gentle hands cast in the soft glow of the fireplace, and the begrudging step he had taken to trust you just a little. The best decision he’s ever made, really. Muriel reaches forward to brush some stray hairs out of your eyes without thinking.
A few ‘awww’s scattered from the crowd made him flinch and quickly withdraw, his face hot with embarrassment. Muriel hides his burning face with a quick swig from the wooden mug in his hand and turns his back to the crowd quickly. He had been so swept up in the moment that he forgot you both weren’t alone, and many pairs of eyes were on you at any given moment.
Your hand touches the side of his face lightly, reassuring and gentle. Grounding him for a little longer and soothing that surge of anxiety and embarrassment. His eyes flicker in your direction again briefly before he roots his stare on the mug in his hands again. “You want to head back early?” You suggest softly. Muriel lowers his mug. He wants to say yes; he’s by far had his fill of socializing today and just wants to wind down somewhere quiet and familiar. But he hesitates. You only just got here, and he knows how much you enjoy these gatherings. You thrive off of social interactions, would it be selfish for him to ask you to leave so soon?
“We don’t have to.” Muriel finally says, begrudgingly, forcing himself to look back up at you. He can stick it out a little while longer for your sake, just as you’ve done for him before. It’s loud and crowded and his anxiety is already going haywire, and god his head is starting to hurt too. But he can suck it up.
“I really don’t mind going home if you need to.” You reply. He watches your eyes drift past him, your hand waving off someone behind him quickly before your gaze returns to meet his. “I know this isn’t exactly where you’re most comfortable.” That was an understatement if Muriel had ever heard one.
Wait. Go back. Did you say ‘home?’
Gently, you pull him away from the bar, guiding him through the swirling crowd towards the back door. He reaches out to push it open for you, his fingertips lingering on the wood for only a moment before you whisk him down the alleyway to a more secluded spot, away from prying eyes. His eyes widen a little, and he lifts his hand to curl it over the one you cup his cheek with. “You said ‘home.’” Muriel breathes out. Your face softens a little, a smile creeping up on your lips.
You’ve hidden yourselves among some crates stacked up between the buildings, a nearby street lamp casting your faces into wild shadows. “Yeah, I did.” You confirm, moving your hand so that your fingers are twined together now. You dip your head down, kissing the tops of his knuckles with a sweet brush of your lips that sends a jolt of electricity through Muriel’s body. “I’d like to move in with you—if you want, I mean.” You add on quickly.
Muriel’s heart hammers in his chest. “What about the shop?” He asks, his voice a little more breathless than he would’ve liked.
“The shop is a little bit crowded these days—” Right, Julian had moved in. Muriel tries (and fails) to resist the urge to make a face at the thought of the doctor living with Asra. “—and I’m not exactly selling anything right now either.” You continue, tilting your head to the side just a little. “And it’s so far from your place.”
“My place is also far from everything else.” He points out quietly. Muriel wants nothing more than for you to move in with him, to make that little hut feel more like a little home. But would it be too far from Vesuvia, and all your friends? Would you be happy, or would you start to feel isolated and alone?
“I know.” You guide him out of his thoughts with a soft voice and a gentle squeeze of his hand. “And I’m okay with that.” He searches your gaze, finding only love and warmth, and that gleam of pure conviction he knows so well. His shoulders relax just a little bit and his thumb rubs along the back of your hand idly while he listens. “It isn’t really all that long of a walk to get to the city. It just feels… It just feels too far from you.” You smile up at him and he practically melts, lips twitching up into a faint smile.
“I want you to be happy.” Muriel confesses softly. He brings his other hand up to envelope yours in his large and calloused palm.
“And I’m happy whenever I’m with you.” You stretch up on your toes, and he leans down just a little to meet you halfway, stealing a soft and sweet kiss—thankfully, without anyone around to see. Muriel sneaks a glance around just to double check before he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in closer, one steady hand at your waist and the fingers of his other twined gently through your hair. He can feel your hands rest against his chest for a moment before you reach up to hold his face in your ever-gentle hands.
He pulls away just slightly, your warm breath mingling with his against the cool night air. “I love you.” Muriel murmurs, and the corners of his eyes crinkle with a smile. He moves his hand to brush an errant lock of hair out of your eyes, studying them. Muriel wasn’t one for eye contact, but it was so easy for him to get lost in your eyes. They always reflected the light so beautifully, and tonight was no exception; the light of the street lamp mingled with the moonlight, casting your eyes in a contrast of gold and silver.
“I love you too.” You murmur. Your thumb lightly brushes along his cheek and traces along his scar tenderly, sending a soft shiver down his spine. Muriel shifts, his lips meeting the spot just between your eyebrows before he pulls away, his hands resting on your waist. You tilt your head back a little to look up at him, letting your hands settle back on his shoulders before sliding them down his arms and resting them against his biceps, just above his elbows.
“… yeah. I think I’d like to go home now.” He murmurs, finally answering your question from before. Your smile widens a little and you take hold of his hand as you both finally pull away from where you were hidden and start to walk down the street.
Heaven isn't built to house a love like you and I , 37k, T [COMPLETED]
They did it. They stopped Armageddon. They survived.
This was it, the first time they were actually free to finally figure out what their side entailed.
Aziraphale is a being of love. Always has been. And now, all the love he has for Crowley is free to flow from the edge of his fingertips to the demon's, in a gesture that could only mean one thing; I'm with you. I'm here.
As much as his hands itch to reach out for the love of his existence, his words seem to fail him, time and time again. He knows Crowley deserves more than gentle hand holding and forehead kisses in the dark. He aches to scream his love from the top of his lungs, for the whole world to hear. And the demon knows it.
And he waits. Because he'll wait forever for Aziraphale. Because he knows they are meant to be one.
We take a peak into Aziraphale and Crowley's "peaceful, fragile existence" they slowly carve out for themselves after Armage-not. We get to see Aziraphale slowly but surely reach out for the demon time and time again, bringing them closer than ever.
Until Jim happens.
And it all goes to shit.
Here's what happens when you spend 6 months thinking about the ineffable idiots constantly, and trying to heal from the devastation season 2 left behind.
We have forehead kisses. We have hand holding. We have love declarations. We have tipsy Muriel. We have love letters. We have naps. Lots of naps. And- yeah, sure, some heartbreak in the middle but what else could I do, sometimes it has to get worse before it gets better.
When did they first meet? How did Muriel explain the material object to Saraqael? Are they both chillin' on Earth now? Share your fanworks of these two and tag us.
Post to the Rare Omens AO3 collection: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Rare_Omens
Okay, this thing needs a name. Please suggest ideas in the comments :) I know this part is tedious, but the thing with self-insert is you have Establishing to do before any Real Action happens. We'll get there, just hang on.
Beginning || Previous || Next
***********
The shaking must have been more visible than you thought, because Muriel is at your side before you can speak. They touch your shoulder gently.
“Um, excuse me,” they say, “Sorry, but you’re shaking an awful lot. Maybe you should sit down.” You nod, and it takes concentration, but with Muriel’s help you make it to the sofa. Apparently caffeine and adrenaline aren’t the best mix. Your breathing speeds up, despite your best efforts, and the rest of the room feels fuzzy. Shit, you do not need this right now. There’s talking and movement, but listening to the words feels too sharp, and the best you can do to convey that you are not okay is to shake your head over and over and over. You reach out a hand next to you, and are surprised to find the sleeve of Aziraphale’s shirt. It’s not ideal, but it’s something, and he doesn’t pull away. You focus on the feel of the cotton, the button on the cuff, the pattern of the stitching in the seams. Slowly, you’re able to tune back in. You focus on your breathing, you look around and count five things that start with B – button, books, brown, bow tie, black. Crowley hands you a mug of cocoa, and you accept it, running your thumb along the porcelain wings and letting your hands feel the heat of the drink. You take a sip and take stock.
Multiverse travel (?), mouthing off to the literal Voice of God (lol), brush with death (or...eternal saltiness?), confronting your very limited mortality (at least it’s 5 lives and not 3), panic attack. WELP. This is going well so far. Just peachy. You take another sip, and notice that everyone’s waiting. Oh, right. You clear your throat.
“Thanks,” You say, “Sorry about that. Um...I’m gonna guess that you all have some questions.”
“That would be accurate, yes,” Aziraphale says next to you. Now that you are better, he stands, straightens his waistcoat, and moves to stand nearer the chair (and Crowley), and watches you with his hands folded in front of him. “The first of which is, who exactly are you?”
“Buckle in, folks,” You say to them, “You’re in for a ride.”
And so you begin your info dump. You notice Muriel taking dedicated notes. Good, they’ll probably need those later. You tell them that you’re not sure exactly where you’re from, but it’s not here. You explain the tv show, the radio show, you even mention the musical, and of course, when you get to the book, you ask Crowley to find it on the shelf behind him. It’s right where you remember Jim leaving it. Crowley opens it, and you begin on instinct:
“’It was a nice day. All the days had been nice. There had been rather seven of them thus far, and rain hadn’t been invented yet.’ Now skip a couple lines Crowley. ‘I said that one went down like a lead balloon.’ Sound familiar? There’s more.” You stop quoting there, because Crowley has started flipping through the pages quicker. Aziraphale holds out his hand, and after a while, Crowley hands it to him, then goes to a corner where you notice him taking a few deep breaths. You lean to the side to see that he’s not smoking, exactly, but definitely smoldering. You look at Aziraphale next, and see him turn white as a sheet, before handing the book to Muriel’s eager hands. The scrivener is the only one who looks delighted as they flip through. Aziraphale cleares this throat and composes himself.
“Uhm...now I believe you told Metatron that...The Almighty sent you here. Is...is that actually the case?”
“Honestly,” You say, “I have no idea. I just needed to get him out of your shop and away from you.”
“Away from...me?”
“Yeah...um...” You notice that Crowley has come back to the conversation now, although his sunglasses are slightly askew. You glance at Muriel, who has noticed the shift in your tone, has closed the book, and is now watching you. They put the novel on the nearest surface and reach for their notebook again.
And so, you explain the most solid fan theories that you know. That their joint miracle from the other day made them a threat for Apocalypse 2.0, and that Metatron was here to separate them, by offering Aziraphale the job of Supreme Archangel. This news is met with...surprise.
“Well that’s just stupid,” Crowley says, “He says no, in your tv show, clearly.”
“Yes, I rather can’t imagine I’d be so keen to return to Heaven after everything.”
“Weeeeelllll…...”
The room goes silent, except for Muriel’s writing. They stop after a moment, unaware of the silence.
“So then, you were trying to keep them from being separated because the power of an angel and a demon is most powerful together.”
“Yeah, or the power of love maybe. I’m not sure. Neil’s been kind of vague on that point.” You intentionally keep your gaze on Muriel once you realize what you implied. You will get there. Making those two talk about their feelings is on your list. Patience, patience.
“Oh, the author – Neil Gaiman?” Muriel points at the book with their pencil.
“Yeah, him. He answers questions sometimes.”
Muriel makes a note. You realize something.
“Wait a minute, Muriel,” You say, “Are you...on board with this?”
Muriel stops writing and considers your question for a minute.
“Well, see, the thing is,” They begin, “I’ve seen an awful lot that I never thought I would see? Just in the last week. Like a demon being nice –“
“HEY! Not nice!”
“And the Archangel Gabriel being in love with a demon and running away with them. And then you fell out of nowhere, and honestly what you said to the Metatron may have been a lie, and therefore, you know, bad, but it makes sense. If God didn’t want you here, you wouldn’t be here. So if I help you, I’m helping the Will of God, right?”
Crowley is the one to break the silence that follows.
“Honestly I would have thought it’d take longer for you to take after me. I have to say, I am impressed.”
“Take what after you?”
“Nevermind.”
“Well,” says Aziraphale, “Is there anything else that we need to know about?”
You think about the kiss. You think about everything that came after. You think about ‘and I would like to spend -’ But no, none of that is relevant now. Why do you feel like you’re forgetting something?
The bell at the door rings. You turn around to see Maggie and Nina. UGH. Right.
“I’ve got it, ladies, no worries! Come back later!” You call, desperately.
“Excuse me! No, we need to speak to these two now if you don’t mind!” Maggie says. Clearly she doesn’t care who you are or what you’re doing here.
You roll your eyes. Honestly, you don’t have beef with Maggie and Nina. You agree with them telling off Crowley and Aziraphale, it’s just that you can’t help but feel that the clock is ticking. But, well, there’s no helping it is there? With a sigh, you stand.
“Come on, Muriel,” You say, “Let’s go to the kitchen and get some more cocoa while these four talk.”
Muriel follows you into the kitchen. You don’t listen, you don’t need to. All you need to do is refill your drink while Maggie and Nina tell them off. While you’re at it, you try to convince Muriel to have one. Despite your best effort, you’re unsuccessful. Oh well, all in good time. When you hear the bell chime again, you go back into the shop to find Aziraphale and Crowley looking very pink in the cheeks. You can’t help but smirk.
“All right, chaps?” You say in your best-terrible-British-accent. Aziraphale nods. Well good. Because you all have work to do.
I wonder how each angel and demon would change if they spent a long enough time on earth. Like if they actually interacted and got to know humans, figure things out without miracles, travel, and live on earth
Maybe they'd start to enjoy things like food, relationships, or music. I could see Muriel trying different kinds of tea, Michael living in a fancy house, Eric getting drive through (while driving the wrong way through), Saraqael miracling permanent accessibility ramps, Gabriel getting drunk, Beelzebub going to concerts, Uriel reading books, Hastur visiting places that aren't dark or musty for once (like the beach), Shax making crazy old lady friends, Sandalphon joining a d&d group, Metatron getting run over in the street, and all of them getting arrested for tax evasion (which they miraculously escape)
How many times would they die because they don't know how earth works, or how many times would they burn down their own houses? How would they adjust to human social interaction, people perceiving them in different ways, and people who are interested in getting to know them, not by obligation, but curiosity?
There's so many POSSIBILITIES
Heaven and Hell may be corrupt, but seriously just take everyone on a business trip, or Aziraphale can dump them all on earth and make them deal