#aziraphale is the same but he is perfect so i love him and his WHITE hair ...it was whiter tho but it could be more the lightning on set | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wonderingwhyiam · 9 months

Text

[GOS2 SPOILERS] About that Kiss...

I was looking at Mr. Gaiman's reply to that one ask about kisses and how he said "if you haven't got it by then you'll never get it". And I was thinking about all the gifsets and imagesets and meta posts unanimously calling the kiss Crowley's confession. But it's not a confession, at least not the confession of love that it's being taken as. (For that, we need a lot of context, but beware because it's a while before I get to the actual kiss.)

First: Aziraphale and Crowley have been in love, if that's what we can call the transcendental connection between two supernatural entities, since basically the start of the show. It's always been canon, they've both known about each other's feelings (think Aziraphale saying that Crowley gets so happy when he can rescue him, think Crowley accompanying his angel through the whole magic show song-and-dance because he knows Aziraphale is doing it for him). They're certainly not under the impression that their affections are unrequited.

Second: Crowley may know that Aziraphale loves him, but he also knows that Aziraphale's understanding of him and of love in general is different from his own. Crowley has understood that neither heaven nor hell are entirely black or white, and that's one of the reasons he wants to stay on Earth (along with many others). But Aziraphale hasn't, and a central theme of many S2 scenes is Crowley trying to show Aziraphale that the 'heavenly' way isn't always right. This leads to an ongoing conflict between them, one which neither of them acknowledge and Aziraphale doesn't even seem to be aware of.

To put this into perspective: think of that one friend, relative, partner, whatever of yours who is in a toxic/abusive situation. Think of your frustration that they just don't understand how bad it is, because they've never known any other way of living. And if you've ever been in the same situation and gotten out, then you know that it takes a lot of mental effort and willpower to realise that you need to get out instead of trying to improve it from within.

Now let's go back to Crowley. He, like the audience, finds it obvious that Metatron is only manipulating Aziraphale back into their control. Aziraphale just seems so naïve for thinking that it'll be better from the inside. Doesn't he see that Crowley and his bookshop and the Earth are where he'll be happy?

But from Aziraphale's point of view, a figure in extreme power who he trusts to be correct has just told him that he can have all three of these and more. Aziraphale has come to see that his coworkers and/or superiors aren't really good (remember the end of S1), but still believes that the side of Heaven is good overall (an example is the grave-digging bit). Textbook forgiveness of your abuser, but let's not get into that. A 'perfect' solution (bringing his partner into Heaven aka the abusive situation with him so that they can 'redeem' it and as an added bonus pull his partner out of a situation which Aziraphale thinks is bad) has just appeared. Why isn't Crowley seeing it?

So finally, third: what is Crowley going to do? he's been trying to get his angel out of this mindset for literal millennia, but Aziraphale still thinks that Heaven is unilaterally good. Aziraphale still tries to deny his love for Earth, despite his every action pointing to the opposite (such as the fact that he literally preserves books for as long as possible, but says 'nothing lasts forever' as if he's okay abandoning it all) and still thinks that Crowley would come to heaven if he could. At this point, Crowley knows that his millennia of love and effort aren't enough. He is starting to feel like they'll never be enough. And we get him putting on his glasses, shutting himself off, making some last-ditch attempts to remind Aziraphale that he's losing all of Crowley's faith and vulnerability towards him by repeatedly choosing Heaven. Not just that, he's losing the magic of humanity as well (no nightingales). Aziraphale says he needs Crowley, so why does he never try to understand him? Why does he always call it "tempting" and never accept that maybe there isn't a single definition of Good?

That kiss isn't a confession; there's nothing to confess. They've both thrown all their cards on the table and none of them match. It is not an "I love you." It is an "I love you, but." I love you, but I can't keep trying and waiting and trying and waiting only for you to choose your abusers every time. I love you, but your constant denial of my good intentions has worn me down. I love you, but I'm tired.

And so Crowley leaves. He'll wait, of course, with his Bentley, but he can't keep taking the first step and then being told he's going "too fast for" Aziraphale. And when Aziraphale once again chooses his own familiar hell in heaven over everything else, what else can Crowley do but accept it?

#bonus: why does aziraphale say 'i forgive you'?#i like to think he's forgiving crowley for what he thinks is crowley's inherent evil #like an 'i forgive you for not understanding that heaven is the better option'#even though it's aziraphale who doesn't understand what the offer means #anyway yeah sorry if this essay has already been done #i just had to also get it out of my system #good omens #good omens 2 #good omens spoilers #good omens season 2 #ineffable husbands #ineffable idiots #aziraphale #crowley #crowley x aziraphale #good omens s2 spoilers #good omens meta

58 notes · View notes

theshippirate22 · 4 months

Text

GO au where Nanny Ashtoreth Miss Vida Boheme’s her way into Harriet Dowling’s life after finding out she’s being abused and the elaborate multi-national-nanny-situation is to keep Warlock out of it and they become really good friends because of it. After Warlock gets too old for a nanny, Crowley and Harriet stay in touch because Crowley really did love that bratty kid and Ashtoreth (her first name is Marjorie) was Harriet’s only real friend. They eventually even made a pact that when Harriet decided to leave Thaddeus, Marjorie would help her with all of it, and they could even live together if it came down to it.

Only for post-divorce Crowley to get a call that he thinks is going to be the fated “i’m taking the end tables and the kid” conversation but it’s actually a sobbing eighteen-year-old Warlock telling him that Harriet’s dead, she’s dead, Nanny, shes dead, i don’t know what to-“

and Marjorie comes back to mourn her only real human friend with her pseudo-son who’s much too old to be sitting in her lap bawling, but he’s doing it anyway and she’s holding him and keeping it together because that’s what he needs and after the funeral she takes him back to her flat so he doesn’t have to grieve alone and only then, when Warlock is asleep in the other room, taken care of and fairly contented, that she’ll find herself on the floor of the shower, shaking, rinsing away the trails of mascara and eyeliner that pooled at the bottom of her glasses and the horrendous pink lipstick and the semi-permanent curl to her hair and it’ll just be Crowley, who doesn’t have the love of his life OR his best friend and everything feels too heavy to bear and there’s tears he didn’t know he had left streaming down his face and the next thing he knows, the water shuts off and it’s just him and his wheezy breath but there’s a warm hand on his back, and look at that.

It’s Aziraphale, kneeling just next to the tub, looking at him with the solidarity of perfect understanding. All he says is, “I heard about Harriet,” and Crowley relapses instantly into sobs, leaning into him for support and Aziraphale accepts the whole soaking armful of him and holds him until he’s got nothing left and eventually, he’ll haul him out of tub and dry him off and get him to bed and hold him still while he sleeps of the emotional exhaustion that is grief, but for now…

For now, there was just them, and there may have been love between them once and it may or may not still be there now, but they don’t have the time to look into that, and it doesn’t matter anyway because there is something and it might just be the intimacy of empathy or the silent, complete understanding but there’s comfort and safety in familiarity so every guarded cell in Crowley’s body won’t fight the way Aziraphale’s breath feels on his temples

And when Warlock wakes up to breakfast made by a familiar man with white curls and blue eyes, he’ll burst into tears all over again at the softness and safety and he won’t have time to question the fact that Marjorie is also Anthony because all he knows is the both of them are sitting at the table sobbing over the same woman and it’s the very, well

It’s very Human.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #warlock dowling #nanny ashtoreth #ficlet #fic idea #angst #hurt/comfort

29 notes · View notes

that-reading-geek · 2 months

Text

Broken guitar strings

Crowley x Aziraphale, sugar daddy au, human au

Chapter one

Contains nsfw scenes

Posted on A03

Summary: Crowley realises he is struggling for money more than he thought and consults his best friend, who hooks him up with a sugar daddy.

(I hope this is okay, it's my first time posting soemthing so long on here! Enjoy the first chapter :3)

Crowley, simply put, was broke. A struggling musician with an unhealthy obsession with his plants and parents that refused to acknowledge his existence, he was living pay check to pay check, saving what little he had left in the event of a bad gig or a broken guitar string.

When he wasn’t busking in tube station entryways or performing in empty bars, he was working in the coffee shop a couple of streets from his apartment. The shop was small but had decent foot traffic and, being in Soho, the tips were plentiful. He had gotten used to the regulars, memorising their orders so the drinks were ready to go before the customer had even stepped foot through the doors. Crowley was charming to all of the customers, which helped him a great deal in the tip department, but there was a particular customer that, no matter his mood, always brought a smile upon the barristers face, and never failed to make him chuckle. He had spotted said customer exiting his bookshop across the road, and had his drink ready for when he undoubtedly stepped foot into the shop.

“Good morning Mr Fell,” Nina, the Coffee shops owner, called from behind the counter as Crowley added the finishing touches to Mr Fell's drink.

“Good morning Nina,” the man replied cheerily as he made his way to where Crowley was standing, “and Good morning my dear.”

“Mornin’ Mr Fell, one hot chocolate for you, extra marshmallows,” Crowley smiled, sliding the drink over.

“Oh marvellous,” Mr Fell beamed, picking up his drink and tapping his debit card to the reader. He took a sip and hummed contently, “perfect as always, thank you Dear.”

Crowley couldn’t help but rake his eyes over Mr Fell. The man was wearing his usual shirt and waistcoat, with his silly tartan bow tie and long coat. He didn’t appear to be much older than Crowley, who had recently turned 28, his hair was a natural near-white, and the lines around his eyes and mouth showed years of cheerful grins and happy smiles.

As he met Mr Fells eyes, the man smiled at him, before going through his wallet and sticking a £10 note into the tip jar. They stared at each other momentarily, before Mr Fell dipped his head.

“Thank you dear,” he said softly, before going and sitting in a booth, bringing his laptop out and working silently.

Crowley had gone back to his apartment after his shift. The place was dingy, with rickety stairs and chipping paint at every turn. He left his bag by the door after clicking it closed, kicking his shoes off and slumping onto the couch with a sigh. He stared at his guitar on its stand across the room, groaning at the very idea of performing tonight, but convinced himself that the show must go on, no matter how much he wanted to curl up in bed and sleep.

By 10pm he was at the same pub he spent every other night in, setting up a stool and doing sound check. He hummed softly as he strummed the strings a few times, before sitting and tapping the mic to gather the limited audience’s attention.

“Hey guys, uh, Crowley back again, I take requests if anyone wants to hear anything, enjoy,” he said awkwardly into the mic. No matter how many times he did this same routine, the awkwardness that came with the job never seemed to disappear, it was like a package deal.

He played a couple of songs, taking a few requests from one person in the crowd who seemed to be the only one actually paying attention to him, other than his personal cheerleader who sat at the bar. He made his way over after collecting the few tips he’d received and sat beside his best friend.

“Well done, I loved the third one,” Bee said, sliding a drink over to him.

“Yeah, can’t say the same about everyone else here,” he said, taking an uninterested sip, before grimacing, “What is this?”

“G&T,” Bee shrugged, “I’ll have it if you don’t want it.”

“Never said that,” Crowley said defensively, taking another sip of his drink.

Bee always turned up to each of his shows, occasionally buying him a drink to take the edge off. They’d known each other for a long time, Bee had always encouraged him to pursue his passions, and he had always returned the favour.

“How was work?” They asked.

“Eh, work, got decent tips though.”

“Enough to afford a better place?”

Crowley gave them a deadpan look, “No, doubt that’ll be happening any time soon, stop bringing it up.”

Bee shrugged and took a sip of their own drink, “wouldn’t be a problem if you...” they trailed off.

“No, shut up, not happening,” he said through gritted teeth. Bee held their hands up in defence.

Crowley groaned and stood up, finishing his drink. He made some excuse about having to water his plants and made his leave, with Bee laughing at his awkward departure.

The musician got home and left his guitar and bag on the couch before trudging to the bathroom to remove the smudged eyeliner he had worn for the show. He splashed some water on his face and made his way to bed, flopping down and neglecting to change out of his jeans in favour of falling asleep at that very second.

The next morning was a Saturday, and Crowley had the day off. He rolled out of bed at 11am, finally changing into more comfortable clothes and leaving the ones from last night in a pile on the floor. His thin blanket had done little to keep him warm during the night, and now all he felt like doing was taking a lovely warm shower and making some French toast.

He went to the bathroom and started the shower, waiting for it to heat up and found himself standing there for far too long. Giving up on the shower, he went to the kitchenette to find some bread and butter. He was once again disappointed at what he found: no butter and half a loaf of mouldy bread.

Crowley hated himself for what he did next, pulling out his phone and opening Bee’s contact.

Crowley

Remember what we spoke about last night?

The thing I refused.

Bee 🐝

Yeasssss?

Second thoughts????

Crowley

Maybe...

Bee 🐝

What pushed u over the edge?

Crowley

Mouldy bread and a cold shower.

Bee 🐝

I’ll give Gabe ur number, he’ll be delighted to find someone 4 u

Crowley

Great.

Gabriel, or Gabe, was Bee’s Partner, or more specifically, their sugar daddy. Bee used the term lightly, and Crowley was used to their dynamic, he never judged Bee and their way of income wouldn’t change that. He had met Gabe a few times, he was a nice man, and looked after Bee well, always treating them to dinner whenever they asked.

Crowley never thought his desperation would get this far, but he was slowly getting more helpless and his growling stomach would thank him, even if it meant sacrificing his dignity.

A message from an unknown number popped up on his phone, and he hesitated before opening it.

Unknown number

Hello Crowley, this is Gabriel, Bee said you were interested and gave me your number to have a chat? Wanna meet up at the park and you can meet a friend of mine. I’ll bring Bee with me.

Crowley

Mm, yeah, when and where?

Gabriel 💷

St.james’ at 4 work for you?

Crowley

Yeah sounds good, see you then.

Crowley groaned and pocketed his phone, before heading to his closet and finding a decent shirt and pair of jeans to change into. He got changed, applying a little bit of makeup, just eyeliner and concealer, and tried to make his hair look at least a little bit more like he hadn’t just rolled out of bed. He slid his sunglasses onto his face and grabbed his guitar. Crowley knew if would take a little while to get to the park, but he still had a couple of hours until their meeting time, but there was nothing to do here and he always liked a walk anyway.

He left his apartment and made his way through the city towards St James’s Park and found a spot beneath a tree to bring his guitar from its case and practise a few chords.

A couple of hours passed before he received a text from Bee asking where he was. He simply responded with a photo of the pop-up coffee cart he was opposite and waited for them to arrive.

“Crowley!” He lifted his head when he heard Bee call his name.

They were holding Gabe’s hand and dragging the man along with them. Crowley stood and put his guitar away in its case, before carefully leaning it against the tree he was underneath.

Gabriel extended his hand that wasn’t clutching Bee’s to Crowley and the musician shook it awkwardly. He tried to look behind Gabe, as though the friend he had told him about was somehow lurking behind him, yet to be seen.

Gabe chuckled and withdrew his hand from Bee, much to their disappointment. “My friend will be here in a moment, how does coffee sound whilst we wait?”

“Oh I cant... afford...”

Crowley was shocked when Gabe laughed loudly, before kissing Bee on the head and saying “Your friend is funny Dear,” he said with a smile, “I’ll buy you a coffee Crowley.”

Crowley scowled to hide his embarrassment before telling Gabriel his coffee order: black with as many sugars as the place allowed. The older man went to buy the three of them Coffee whilst Bee stood with Crowley so the two of them could talk.

“Is it weird?” Crowley started with.

“Is what weird?”

“Having a sugar daddy, does it not feel... strange?."

Bee looked at Gabe softly, who was waiting for the coffee, “It does at first, I felt guilty when Gabe and I were first.. yknow, but I got used to it. I still apologise every now and then, but he’s so sweet, he always makes me feel better when I feel guilty.

“Yknow, this sort of thing doesn’t always have to be sex, Gabriel’s paid me for just hanging out with him, you just need to discuss everything when it all starts, and set your boundaries.”

Crowley nodded a little. He remembered when Bee had first met Gabriel and they had refused to spend any of the money Gabe had given them out of pure guilt. It wasn’t until Gabriel took them out shopping that they actually spent it. He remembered how Bee had bought him the same pair of sunglasses he still wore to this day, and how happy they’d been after spending the day with Gabe. The two had shared their first kiss outside of the bedroom that day, and Bee was on the moon for many days after.

“Talk to me, talk to Gabriel if you need to, we’ll both help you with whatever decisions or whatever you might need,” Bee said softly, patting him on the shoulder.

Gabe returned with everyone’s coffees and the three of them sat on the ground together making small discussion.

It wasn’t until Gabe interrupted his own sentence that the conversation came to a halt.

“Aziraphale! Glad you’re here my friend,” the man grinned, causing Crowley to look up to see who he was talking to.

“Hello Gabriel, Bee, I am sorry I’m late,” the other man, Aziraphale, said as he stood above the group. He turned to Crowley and smiled a very charming smile. “Hello Dear, I wasn’t expecting to see your face.”

Crowley stared dumbstruck at the man in front of him, a man whom he recognised far too well. When he finally managed to find his words, all he could force himself to say was “ngh... uh, neither...”

Aziraphale smiled and carefully sat with the rest of the group, turning to Gabriel, who spoke before anyone else could. “You know each other?”

Aziraphale nodded, “Oh yes, this young man serves me almost every day at that darling coffee shop I told you about.”

It was at that moment that the man he knew as Mr Fell didn’t even know his name, despite the name tag he had pinned to his apron every day.

“Oh marvellous!” Gabriel said excitedly, “Well that may make things easier for you both then, Crowley here is looking for a sugar daddy, I knew you two would be a perfect match.”

Aziraphale beamed and turned to Crowley, “Yes I think we might just be,” he giggled, “how about we all go to dinner? And talk there? Then perhaps Mr Crowley and I can discuss this further.”

Crowley nodded numbly and Gabriel stood, pulling Bee up with him. He called a car for the four of them after the 2 older men had decided where to eat, Bee sat practically on Gabe’s lap in the car, the both of them chatting idly between them and leaving the other two to awkwardly make conversation.

“When Gabriel said he had a potential client for me, I wasn’t expecting to see my Barista,” Aziraphale said after a few moments of sitting in silence.

Crowley refused to meet his eyes and didn’t reply. Aziraphale cleared his throat awkwardly and continued.

“I’m sorry if this is awkward for you, we don’t have to go through with it if you’re uncomfortable, I won’t be offended.”

Crowley finally lifted his head but didn’t look him in the eyes, “ngk- Mr Fell, I don’t... sorry, I’m actually rather glad that it’s you, I just feel embarrassed,” he confessed. “This is new to me, so I’m a bit... overwhelmed.”

Aziraphale’s gaze softened and he gently took Crowley’s hand in his own, “It’s okay my dear... we can discuss everything over dinner and you don’t even have to decide then, we’ll go at your pace and I’ll be sure to communicate properly, as long as you promise to do the same.”

Crowley finally lifted his eyes to look at him and smiled, “okay...” he said quietly, before pausing momentarily and saying, “...you’re paying for dinner right? Because there’s no way I can affor-“

Aziraphale cut him off with a laugh, “Yes dear! Of course I’m paying for dinner.”

Crowley nodded and visibly relaxed, sitting back in his seat. He glanced down at where his hand was still held in Aziraphale’s and slowly took it back, shooting the man an apologetic smile before folding his hands in his own lap.

The restaurant was much more posh than Crowley was used to, but by the way the other 3 acted, and how the staff talked to Gabriel, he assumed they were regulars here, and suddenly felt very out of place.

Aziraphale was in his normal attire of shirt and bow tie, Gabriel had dressed in almost all white, he looked handsome and expensive, and even Bee seemed to fit in, their albeit alternative style still seemed to blend in well to the atmosphere of the room, and Crowley stuck out like a sore thumb.

The four were led to a booth, and Crowley took this opportunity to hide his dishevelled self as far from public view as possible. Aziraphale sat next to him with the couple opposite, and Bee sat back as Gabriel picked up the menu.

“Are you alright if I order for you my bumblebee?” Gabriel asked Bee softly, putting an arm around them. They nodded and picked up the desert menu, before suggesting brownies and ice cream for desert, which Gabe agreed to.

“What would you like Dear?” Aziraphale said, breaking Crowley from staring at the couple ahead of him.

“Uh, whatever’s cheapest is fine, ‘m not picky,” he mumbled, shrinking back into himself.

“Nonsense, there must be something on here that takes your fancy,” Aziraphale proclaimed, leaning over to show Crowley the menu. “Ooh the steak sounds lovely, or even the chicken sounds delightful, I’m going to get some sushi, does anything sound good to you?”

“Mr Fell all I’ve eaten in the past few weeks is packet Mac and Cheese, literally anything sounds good,” Crowley said bluntly, before blushing and looking away.

Aziraphale simply smiled softly and nodded, “How about I pick something for you and you can tell me if you like it or not?”

Crowley looked up at him and nodded, uttering a small ‘sounds good’. Aziraphale grinned, clearly delighted and listed off a few things, all of which Crowley agreed to, although slightly hesitantly. As Aziraphale called over the waitress to place their orders, Bee leaned over the table and plucked Crowley’s sunglasses from his face.

“We’re inside Crowley, table manners,” the scorned playfully, ignoring his protest.

“You say that like you didn’t used to put your feet up on the table when we would go out,” he bit back, though not a hint of aggression was present in his tone. He took his glasses back, but folded them on the table.

Gabe shot Bee a look to which they rolled their eyes at, “I don’t do it anymore,” they mumbled, and the others at the table laughed.

As the table waited for their food to arrive, they discussed Bee and Gabe’s contract, so Crowley would be informed on what sort of thing to expect should he and Aziraphale go ahead with the dynamic.

The food, when it arrived, was delightful, and Crowley enjoyed it thoroughly. He tried not to shovel his food down too quickly, but his rumbling belly tried to convince him to do otherwise. He’d gotten about halfway through his meal when he realised eating so much food after eating very little for so long was probably not the best idea, and the nauseating feeling that accompanied his full stomach made him halt mid fork-full.

“Are you alright dear?” Aziraphale said softly, and Crowley only nodded.

The musician reached for his drink and finished the glass of OJ he’d ordered. He sat back, allowing his food to settle as he wished the nausea to dissipate. He’d never forgive himself if he’d forced a stranger he hardly knew to pay for a large and expensive meal just for him to not finish it. Deciding to distract himself, he initiated conversation.

“So you would pay me for... well sex?” He clarified.

“Yes dear, and other things, like... spending the day awith me, or running errands, attending parties,” Aziraphale said softly, “I’d never make you do anything you’re uncomfortable with of course, but you need the money... and I like the company, its a win-win situation honestly.”

Crowley smiled and nodded, taking a bite of his food now that his stomach had settled slightly. He couldn’t help but hum in delight at the thought of being able to afford somewhere nicer to live, and of course, spending time with a handsome man for more than 2 minutes a day would be a bonus. He shifted his weight slightly and found himself leaning closer to Aziraphale. The other man cautiously rested his hand upon Crowley’s knee, letting out a questioning hum.

“’ Guess it wouldn’t... hurt to try,” Crowley reasoned, mostly with himself, but he didn’t find himself recoiling from the man’s affectionate touch.

“After dinner,” Aziraphale started, “we should head back to mine, and discuss this further, does that sound good?”

Crowley nodded and smiled up at him, “sounds perfect."

As promised, after dinner Aziraphale ordered Crowley and himself an Uber back to his bookshop. They both headed inside and Aziraphale locked the door behind them. He lead the younger man to the couch and offered him some coffee, of which Crowley accepted gratefully. The two sat drinking their beverages and discussing the terms of their newfound agreement.

They came to the conclusion that Crowley would come to his bookshop on his days off from work, and they would spend the day together, whether that be simply keeping Aziraphale company whilst he worked, or making him tea as he read. They agreed that sex would not be a necessity, but neither were opposed to the idea. Aziraphale mentioned during their talk that, at any parties he and Crowley may attend together (as part of work of course), that ‘pda’ may be necessary, but never forced, and Crowley seemed enthusiastic at the idea.

“How do I address you?” Aziraphale said as they drew to the end of the conversation.

“m? Oh, Crowley’s fine, none of that ‘Mr’ bullshit, pet names are cool too I guess, he/him whatever.”

“Well then that works fine my Dear, as for you, I’d rather you called me Aziraphale than ‘Mr Fell’, far too proper for me, and of course any other nicknames you see fit, just not the D word...”

Crowley grinned at that, “What? Daddy?” He laughed when Aziraphale cringed, “Ironic,” he snorted, “I’ll think of something for you.”

“Marvellous.”

The two talked some more, about everything and nothing at the same time. Crowley talked about his plants and Aziraphale listened with a fond smile on his face, in return talking about his books and other hobbies. The two found themselves laughing about god knows what, and soon Crowley was half on top of Aziraphale, the older man’s arm around his waist comfortably.

Crowley giggled, much to his distaste, and curled in closer to Aziraphale until their noses were nearly touching and the only comfortable position for his hands were the man’s chest. He felt Aziraphale squeeze his hip affectionately, the conversation fizzing into silence as they stared at each other, breaths mingling in a dance of pure sexual attraction.

Before either of them could speak, Aziraphale’s hands and slid up Crowley’ shirt, ghosting over his skin in delicate, flittering touches. Crowley’s own hands had founds their ways to Aziraphale’s belt, before they were both crashing their lips together in a frenzied kiss of passion and need.

Crowley quickly moved to unbuckle Aziraphale’s belt, pulling away from the kiss momentarily to focus on what he was doing. He managed to get it open before Aziraphale was stilling his hands, and he froze, wondering if he’d gone too far.

“You don’t have to do that Darling- if you don’t want to...” he said softly. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go further with Crowley, he just didn’t want Crowley to feel pressured after they’d only just discussed their terms, especially after he’d bought him dinner earlier.

“I want to,” Crowley blurted, squeezing Aziraphale’s hand, “you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he confessed.

Aziraphale smiled and pressed a kiss to his temple, before uttering softly, “be my guest then dear boy.”

Crowley grinned and hastily unbuttoned and unzipped Aziraphale’s slacks, the older man lifting his hips so Crowley could pull the trousers down to his ankles. He ran his hands up Aziraphale’s thighs, squeezing the flesh and admiring the sight before him. The musician leant down to press kisses to the man’s thighs, worshipping each as thought they belonged to an angel. He trailed his kisses up as his hands followed suit, toying at the waistband of white briefs that hid a rather large monstrosity he couldn’t wait to get his lips around.

Crowley shuffled down to be kneeling on the floor, accepting the cushion that Aziraphale passed him to settle under his knees. The older man ran a hand through Crowley’s hair and mussed the strands slightly, his pale fingers lost in the sea of red. Crowley delicately pulled Aziraphale from his briefs, marvelling over the weight in his hand. He couldn’t help but stare, but a light encouraging tug at his hair broke him from his awestruck trance in order to slowly kiss up Aziraphale’s hardening dick.

Kissing the tip, Crowley looked up at Aziraphale through his eyelashes and slowly took him in his mouth. He bobbed his head slowly, squeezing Aziraphale’s thighs affectionately. The man above him groaned in pleasure as Crowley worked, Aziraphale tried to keep his hands gentle on the musicians hair, but Crowley would be lying if he said he didn’t like the idea of Aziraphale pulling his hair properly. The weight of Aziraphale’s prick was heavy on his tongue, swallowing around it he tried to take him as far as his throat would allow him.

Crowley wouldn’t say he was inexperienced as he would say ‘out of practise’. The last time he had a long term boyfriend was in his earlier 20’s, and he hadn’t really hooked up with many men since his last relationship. Even when he did, the deed was quick, either a hand job or a quick fuck and he was out of there, there was no grace or romance about it, just something to satisfy both parties. His deep throating abilities were hardly what they used to be, but Crowley was certain, especially with a cock as big as Aziraphale’s, he’d build up to it again in time.

He pulled off of Aziraphale and jerked him off slowly, he gently kissed the tip and took him in his mouth once more. Aziraphale was bucking into his mouth as Crowley forced his head down as far as he could, and he gagged slightly as the head hit the back of his throat. Aziraphale tried to utter an apology, but Crowley simply squeezed his thigh in silent assurance that he was fine. He could feel Aziraphale practically melt in his hands as he continued his gentle assault, pre-cum leaking from his tip and staining Crowley’s tongue. The salty taste was almost foreign in his mouth, but he found himself swallowing it down as though he was starving for more.

When Aziraphale reached his climax his grip on Crowley’s hair tightened. He gave no warning as he came down Crowley’s throat, the musician choking momentarily in the process. He pulled off, swallowing and awkwardly wiping his mouth, before laughing softly.

“Warn a guy next time,” he teased.

“Sorry Darling...” Aziraphale mumbled sheepishly, gently petting his now completely messed up hair. He gently pulled Crowley up into his lap and held the man close, putting himself away in the process. Crowley rested his head on Aziraphale’s chest and closed his eyes, ignoring the aching between his own legs in favour of post-orgasm cuddles.

“How about we get a shower and continue our conversation in bed?” Aziraphale hummed softly, stroking his hair. Crowley simply nodded and allowed Aziraphale to scoop him into his arms and take him to bed.

#ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #GO smut #good omens #smut #sugar daddy au #human au #non binary beelzebub #mlm

16 notes · View notes

rollforjackass · 9 months

Text

okay so i reread the good omens script book trying to look up a quote i remembered and i kept writing down the things that i absolutely loved about it, so here's just a list of all the quotes and moments that rewired my brain chemistry

aziraphale sasses the hell out of crowley about his antichrist birth organization skills

aziraphale saying “oh sugar” instead of oh shit...

first appearance of everyday by buddy holly, we all know how that turned out

aziraphale doesn’t know how an ansaphone works. this was in the book too, but it’s still funny, especially considering how in radio omens he at least knows about caller id

aziraphale brought shortbread for the drive to the convent. did he think it was a date? please say yes

crowley asked aziraphale if heaven wouldn’t give him (crowley) asylum and aziraphale was going to ask him the same about hell

aziraphale says “what the hell” after pointedly not swearing earlier. hypocrite ass

aziraphale is fine with killing the antichrist himself but gets upset about the humans killing each other at tadfield manor....more tasty hypocrisy. he thinks he can only ever do the Right Thing but he knows it's Wrong when anyone else does it

“aziraphale is rather enjoying having the upper hand in the ideas department for once”

crowley says “dude. chill.”

“for a moment his noble better nature rejects the idea out of hand. THEN HE FALLS...”

“aziraphale is softening. they haven’t spoken in a hundred years: he’s realizing they are still friends.” gets me every time i look at it

why was shadwell in prison?? america explain

“i work in soho, i hear things” patron saint of soho confirmed

i still think that the neon halo blinking on and off above aziraphale’s head is the HARDEST that neil gaiman has ever gone and that we deserved to see it in the final cut

"michael: when your cause is just you do not hesitate to smite the foe, aziraphale." i'm thinking thoughts about the s2 finale under this lens; when your cause is just (saving the love of your life) you do not hesitate to suffer for pursuing it

“crowley looks back. he looks at aziraphale. above them, a beautiful starry sky. and crowley softens.” jesus janthony christ.

“aziraphale is looking for someone. he spies a human statue dressed as an angel, with wings. it’s not him.” GOD

gabriel about aziraphale: “i’m disappointed in him. not thinking like an angel.”

crowley “looks up, and talks to god, in the classical fashion.” see i really want a script book for s2 because i want to see aziraphale's expressions of faith plucked out a little bit more

crowley in the cinema: “he’s waiting for the end of the world. out of time. out of hope.”

the fact that crowley saw aziraphale walking down the street and left dagon on read is priceless

aziraphale looks hurt after crowley says he won’t even think about him

the music for the gavotte scene was recommended to be “i am a courtier grave and serious” from gilbert and sullivan’s the gondoliers which is PERFECT

“aziraphale is heading down the street, looking harried and as if he is carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. which he is.”

sandalphon says “you know how we treat traitors in wartime?” to aziraphale and there was meant to be blood on aziraphale’s lips after sandalphon punches him. death to sandalphon

“why would you do this? we’re the good guys.”

aziraphale (resolutely not swearing): you. you B…AD angels.

“seducing women to do your evil will!” “i think perhaps you’ve got the wrong shop.” still the campiest line delivery i've ever seen

we don't need to speculate about crowley being in tears in the burning bookshop because according to the script he is canonically right on the verge of it

“right. i’m done. i’ve had it. i don’t care about any bloody angels or humans or anyone. i hate you all. somebody killed my best friend, and i don’t even care who did it. bastards, all of you.” 😭

when aziraphale is discorporated, his heavenly appearance is all his normal clothes but gleaming white

aziraphale: i have no intention of fighting in any war. “all angels on the floor turn and look at the angel who has said the unsayable.”

aziraphale can’t actually see crowley in the bar scene…he has no idea how wrecked his best friend is

aziraphale doesn’t take sugar with his tea. bastard

aziraphale crosses his fingers under the table when answering shadwell’s nipple question

aziraphale is wearing madame tracy’s pink motorbike helmet in the mirror of her scooter

they describe crowley’s suit in the burning bentley as “interestingly ripped”...........we were robbed of a crowley boob window moment and i'll never forget

aziraphale introduces crowley to madame tracy as “he’s…well, we’re sort of business associates.” you know, like a liar

aziraphale was fully about to murder adam. i don’t think i can stress this enough

aziraphale pokes himself to make sure he’s solid once he’s separated from madame tracy

aziraphale isn’t threatening crowley with the sword, “just making his point that he can do dangerous out-of-character things if he needs to.”

crowley: what if the almighty planned it this way all along? from the very beginning aziraphale: takes a drink from the bottle of wine

aziraphale looks like he’s going to cry when crowley reminds him that the bookshop burnt down 😭

aziraphale-as-crowley looks depressed 😭 he still thinks his bookshop is gone

the angels kidnapping crowley-as-aziraphale zip-tied his hands those dickheads

aziraphale-as-crowley: my friend! they’re kidnapping my friend!

the hit hastur gives aziraphale-as-crowley would have killed a human 0/10 wahoos

“the van with [crowley-as-]aziraphale in it drives away, and [aziraphale-as-]crowley tries to crawl after it.” HEY NEIL I JUST WANT TO TALK

crowley-as-aziraphale says “what fun. i love a barbecue.”

i am literally ENRAGED that sandalphon was like “hell yeah you can hit aziraphale” to the minor demon who brought the hellfire i WILL throw hands

uriel calls it a barbecue too those fuckers

in the script uriel and sandalphon have their flaming swords drawn, so it wasn't going to be as insidious as expecting aziraphale to walk into the flame of his own volition. but they didn’t end up including it in the show, so it is that insidious after all

aziraphale-as-crowley keeping his socks on for the bath was such a choice

“he doesn’t actually have a newspaper and a cigar, but damn, he’s enjoying himself in his bath”

i've seen so little talk about how absolutely ice cold aziraphale is in the bath scene with the whole “so you’re probably thinking, ‘if he can do this, i wonder what else he can do’? and very, very soon, you’re all going to get the chance to find out.” BECAUSE THAT SHIT IS TERRIFYING

aziraphale-as-crowley: michael. duude.

crowley and aziraphale both get out of their own elevators and meet up to walk out together which is poetic cinema

PIGBOG AND THE OTHER MOTORCYCLE IDIOTS THAT HUNG OUT WITH DEATH WERE GOING TO BE INCLUDED i miss them

#suffice it to say i've been on a deep dive #part of the reason i love the book so much is just all the little details that a tv show just can't spare the time for #and the script has so many lovely little tidbits that make me rewatch episodes hunting for a scrap of their existence #like i was Looking for that shortbread man i remember that vividly #i'll probably look again later too #ugh ugh ugh what a time to be alive was season 1 #and if there's a script book for s2 you bet your ass i'll be deep diving again #good omens #oxly hollers

30 notes · View notes

kleenexwoman · 7 months

Text

Why was Crowley working on gravity?

Gravity is a basic law of the universe that lets things aggregate into larger clumps of matter. If we're representing gravity as a really simple, easy to remember idea, it would probably be:

Like Attracts Like.

That's gayness. Gravity is literally gay.

Crowley invented the concept of being gay.

The other principle that keeps everything from being aggregated into one big ball of smoosh is magnetism.

Opposites Attract.

Which doesn't mean that like can't attract like, but then there's also that sexy opposite.

Which is represented as Crowley's red and black. Attracting Aziraphale's blue, yellow, and cream.

So, when we're talking about metaphysics, "gender" isn't about what it is for people. It's an abstract concept regarding the ability to read or be influenced by energy or information, vs. the ability to project that or to influence it. You can't both receive and project completely at the same time, so you have to find some kind of balance.

So a gender dichotomy isn't really defined by what "men" and "women" are supposed to do, it's defined by the relationship of projective element to receptive element. How information is being projected, received, used, and processed, and for what reason.

And Crowley is fluid when it comes to human presentation of gender. Aziraphale may be consistently Gay, but Crowley is Queer AF.

What are Red and Black? Let's forget the equivalent to female and male. Red is the color of Need. It's the color of Desire, but also Pain. And Black is the color of Nothing, of Potential, but also of Void. There's no Understanding. This is Pain without Reason, Desire without Answer, Need without Understanding.

The other colors you have Before the Beginning, which tend to represent gender in the modern Western world, are pink and blue.

Pink is Desire backed by White, the color of Everything Together, Purity and Love, Everything Gonna Be All Right. This is Desire with the promise of Fulfillment. Blue is the color of Understanding and Clarity. So together, that's Fulfilled Desire with Perfect Understanding. A great ideal, yeah? Probably what the Starmaker feels when they're making stars.

The Fall had to have shifted that. In fact, it was already an emotional shift the moment he realized that the stars weren't going to last. Suddenly you have this lack of understanding, and a need that isn't fulfilled.

So, from pink to red, from blue to black. A need unfulfilled and uncertain of being fulfilled, because of a lack of understanding. Instead of the desire to create with confidence that your creations will be taken care of, suddenly there is uncertainty, a potential lack of resources, and Questions about Everything.

And suddenly the yellow shooting stars. A volley of questions.

The other thing I didn't mention was the yellow. It's the color of fear, but also the color of the sun, of organization and light. It's the color of understanding, but understanding through a filter -- that of the Sun, yellow light that helps plants grow, the filter of nutrients.

Yellow is the color of discernment. Filtering. Choosing values and goals and viewpoints and making a decision based on that.

Aziraphale has understanding, a very clear understanding of the Situation, but also discernment that the Starmaker does not yet have at the Beginning. He understands that there are certain questions it's not appropriate to ask.

Crowley is gender fluid because him Falling changed his relationship to the way he sees his purpose in the world -- he seeks knowledge through ignorance (asking questions) and creates through destroying (his tests). It's a paradoxical existence and requires him to shift polarities very, very quickly and cleverly.

Aziraphale consistently seeks fellowship and understanding, but reins himself in because of fear, while still radiating as much love and goodwill as he's capable of (sometimes it's just like, fuck that guy though). Which is gay AF if you ask me.

#good omens #good omens meta

7 notes · View notes

aziraphales-library · 2 years

Note

My, thank you for your constant service with providing fics to us! I wonder, do you happen to know about any fics where Crowley is turned back into an angel?

You are so very welcome! We have some risen Crowley fics here, and I have some more for you now...

Unwanted Redemption by CaspianTheGeek (T)

The angels decide that it hurts appearances to have an angel in a relationship with a demon. They can't force Aziraphale to fall, so instead they redeem his demon. Crowley, however, is of the opinion he was perfect just as he was.

"Crowley staggered to his feet. No, no they couldn’t have. It’s impossible. How. There was no way this could happen. He glanced around to be sure no humans were nearby and then let his wings unfurl.

They were white. As white as Aziraphale’s. Their obsidian beauty washed away. He reached for his familiar scarf, just to give himself something to touch as his brain ran wild. Only to realize it was gone. He glanced down and saw his clothes had changed into a white suit.

He hissed."

White is Not the New Black by AughtPunk (G)

You know, I thought to myself, I've seen so many lovely 'Fallen Aziraphale' fics but not a single 'Risen Crowley' fic. Time to fix that.

Or: Crowley wakes up with an odd warm fuzzy feeling in his chest and doesn't like it at all.

forgiveness (can you imagine) by snowkatze (M)

And hungrily, hungrily, he dreams, a soft warm hand grasping skinny fingers. Yellow eyes and dark heart forgotten. What was once wretched. What was once wicked. Forgiven. Skin that has forgotten the shape of scales. I recognize you. I see you. We are the same.

***

After Beelzebub slams the door to Hell in his face, Crowley walks to Aziraphale's bookshop, but he can tell that something is off. He falls to his knees in pain - and then he realizes. She is making him Rise. It's painful. It's what he would never admit that he wanted. (Maybe now he can be loved.)

Parallax by Crystalshard (M)

God's ways are ineffable, but She rather likes this angel and demon duo who prevented the Apocalypse. So She gives Crowley the choice to Rise back to Heaven. Taking that offer, however, leads to more trouble than anyone (except possibly God) ever expected.

Some strangeness in the proportion by trailingoff (T)

‘I assume your punishment involved the destruction of the demon, but I am not aware of the details,’ says the Angel. ‘The description was redacted from your file and labelled “Highly Classified” with a red stamp.’

Aziraphale is trying to mourn in peace, but the cause of his grief keeps bothering him.

When We Find There's Life on Earth After All by jane_with_a_j (T)

An angel awakens in Heaven from a six thousand year coma, the result of a head injury taken in the First War.

He's missed everything. The entire history of the Earth. Well, except for one thing. He hasn't missed the apocalypse, because the apocalypse, for some reason, didn't happen, and no one seems to know why - or if they do know, they won't say.

He has questions. And if the rumours are true, there's one angel who might have answers: the Principality Aziraphale.

Aziraphale isn't at all what he expected.

And nothing, as it turns out, is quite what it seems.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #risen demon crowley #risen crowley #angel crowley #mod d

50 notes · View notes

abyssinspace · 9 months

Text

Alright people it time for a good omens 2 talk. There will be major spoilers so proceed with caution!

When I first watched the ending I was shocked! Aziraphale leaving Crowley for heaven?!? I wouldn’t have believed you at the beginning of the season. That being said after taking time to think over the ending, it actually makes a lot of sense to me. In the years between Armageddon and the events of season 2, Crowley and Aziraphale lived in relative peace and safety. But then shit went down. Specifically, Aziraphale’s bookshop was attacked. When Metatron, the fucking voice of God, tells Aziraphale that he can make heaven better and be safe with Crowley at the same time? Of course Aziraphale accepts the offer, the voice of God just offered him everything he wants!

He has a lot of religious trauma and on top of that even though he and Crowley have been safe the last couple of years, that may not last. As he says “nothing lasts forever.” This makes him susceptible to Metaton’s manipulation, and it is manipulation. He wants so badly to have heaven be the “good guys” after all that was his side for about 6,000 years. He wants Crowley to be with Crowley without being afraid, but Crowley turns him down. How could Crowley say no? Everything will be perfect this way?

Crowley turns him down because he can see in shades of black and white in a way Aziraphale can’t yet. Crowley is firmly on his and Aziraphale’s side, but Aziraphale making this choice causes Crowley to believe that Aziraphale isn’t. Crowley loves Aziraphale, he loves him so much that he wants to run away with him, on earth or the stars it doesn’t matter.

Aziraphale love’s Crowley, he love him so much that he wants to make heaven a place they can be together without being afraid of other sides, on top of that he really hasn’t seen the corruption in heaven yet. After all it isn’t “an institutional problem.” Aziraphale can’t understand Crowley’s view, yet. I firmly believe that after being in heaven again, in a place of power where others in power still hate him he’ll start to understand.

As a side note, Crowley was particularly hurt by this choice because he just watched Gabriel and Beelzebub live out his dream. He wants to run away from both sides and just BE with Aziraphale. What he gets instead is heart break.

#good omens spoilers #go2 spoilers #good omens #good omens 2 #analysis post #ineffible husbands #crowley #aziraphale #*slaps Aziraphale #This bad boy can fit so much religious trauma in him #I hate seeing people hate on Aziraphale for his choice #I just wanted them to be happy #my poor babies #fuck you metatron

8 notes · View notes

jenanigans1207 · 9 months

Text

Good omens friends, I hope you are prepared for the fic I’m writing.

—

Admittedly, it had been quite awhile since the last time Aziraphale had been in Heaven. But even with that, he didn’t remember Heaven being quite so… cold.

Most of his more recent memories of Heaven were overshadowed with fear— not fear of Heaven itself, exactly, but fear of the situations he found himself in, the possible repercussions for his actions, and the thought that he could potentially lose something— or someone— very important to him. And perhaps he had convinced himself that the coldness he had felt in those moments had been his own fear, spears of ice pinning him to place as he waited for a fate that, ultimately, did not come. Perhaps he had convinced himself that Heaven was still warm, full of Her love, and he had just been undeserving of it and therefore unable to feel it.

But now he’s been invited back into Heaven, he’s been offered a permanent place among Her ranks. After losing Her favor and being branded a traitor, he had been forgiven and welcomed back. It was more than he had ever dared to hope for, and it didn’t explain why, in this moment, he still felt those familiar spears of ice in his veins, why he felt the frigid chill of loneliness.

Of course, that left him with one possible explanation: that it had always been Heaven that was cold, not him. That Heaven hadn’t been full of the eternal love he imagined it to have in quite some time.

Aziraphale refused to believe this idea, refused to even acknowledge it, a skill he had developed particularly well over his years on Earth. Because even if it were true, it wouldn’t be true for long. Aziraphale has long since accepted the idea that Heaven is not perfect, but he has never lost the faith that there is hope for Heaven to return to what it was always promised to be. And now he had been afforded the opportunity to help Heaven reach that potential.

And the opportunity to save the Earth a second time.

The chill was almost too much, biting at Aziraphale’s skin, sinking into his heart. Every step he took further off of the elevator made him feel even worse. It was like his shoes grew heavier with each step, and then his legs, and most certainly his heart. Every part of his body was fighting him as he stepped deeper into Heaven, following the Metatron through sparkling white hallways that all looked exactly the same. It had been a long time since Heaven had felt like home,

Because home, to Aziraphale, is not cold, hollow, perfectly neat and very, very empty.

Home, to Aziraphale, is unruly stacks of books that only stop from tumbling over from sheer force of will and the belief that they won’t. Home, to Aziraphale, is a dining table at the Ritz with a glass of wine in front of him, its late nights spent in deep conversations. Home, to Aziraphale, is memories. Memories of laughter, of rescues, of exasperation. It’s memories of arguments that barely lasted a decade because it had been pointless to argue in the first place. Home was the opposite of Heaven. It was warm, messy, filled to the brim with memories and full of so much love. Home, to Aziraphale was his bookshop, it was…

Crowley.

#oh it’s gonna hurt fam #it’s gonna be the most painful fluff of my life at least #I hope y’all are ready #good omens #good omens 2 #good omens 2 spoilers #good omens season 2 spoilers #gos2 spoilers #spoilers #ineffable husbands

8 notes · View notes

youve-debauched-my-sloth · 9 months

Text

Was watching Good Omens 2 for a second time and thought I should try posting my reactions (maybe writing it down will make my brain work like normal again, but probably not).

Starting with episode 1.

Possibly spoilers for all of season 2 belove

The opening made me so happy. Angel Crowley took me by surprise. I have seen people speculating about him and Aziraphale meeting before he became a demon but for some reason, I never thought it would actually happen. I think this may be my favorite scene from this season (or on shared first place with one from the last episode). They both look so happy I can’t stop smiling when I see it. And how it reflects their meeting in the Garden of Eden. Not only the way Crowley protect Aziraphale with his wing, but also the smiles Aziraphale keeps giving him feels exactly the same.

Angel!Crowley is one of Crowleys best looks this season. I love everything about it, the hair, him having the same cloth as Aziraphale, the white wings, but the best part is that he looks like a completely different person than demon!Crowley.

“putting a note in the suggestion box” XD

The part with the man trying to speak secret code to Crowley was hilarious.

Miranda Richardson! So glad to see her this season too but it also makes me a bit sad for every time I see her I miss Madame Tracy.

The whole memory loss-dialog XD If a had been Aziraphale I would have shaken Gabriel until he remembered. He really has the patient of an angel :)

“James. Long for Jim, short for Gabriel.” XD

“Hello. It’s me. Don’t say anything. Are you there?” “Should I say something now?” It is this kind of exchange that make me love Aziraphale and Crowley so much.

Maggie and Nina, they’re so cute together! With their awkward flirting and wonderful chemistry. Who can resist the grumpy and sunshine trope?

I think Nina is one of my favorites of the new characters. I like the way the actress manages the deadpan humor and still make the character feel kind and friendly.

The way Crowley screams when he sees Gabriel. And “What. Are you. Doing. In. This bookshop?!” “I. Am. Dusting.” XD

The first time watched this episode I didn’t understand way Crowley was so upset with Gabriel. I thought they was playing it up for drama :P

Michael and Uriel! For me they went from being These Guys (neutral) in the first season, to These Guys (affectionate) in the second.

Lord Beelzebub! I always feel a bit afraid when they have to change actors, but Shelley Conn was perfect for the roll. It also felt good that there already was a reasonable explanation for the appearance change, with angels and demons bodies only being vessels.

I love how Aziraphales and Crowleys miracle got stronger when they did it together. They really are a perfect team.

Yeah, nobody will notice their miracle :P They should have learned from the first season that their plans almost never work :P

And that’s it for episode 1. I probably do episode 2 sometime tomorrow.

As this show will live rent free in my head for some time, feel free to come and chat with me about it.

#good omens 2 #good omens 2 spoilers #good omens 2 reaction

1 note · View note

actual-changeling · 7 months

Note

Since you have been the first 'Crowley deserves to have his boundaries' person I have seen in the tags on weeks. What do you think about the talk in the fandom on how Crowley should have accepted going to Heaven 'to do good and stop the Apocalypse' and that 'he also rejected Aziraphale'? It personally gives me the creeps because the narrative makes clear that Heaven is a big white nightmare but the fandom seems to be taking the 'Aziraphale might jot be perfect' thing hard and therefore Heaven is fixable now...

Glad to know I am not alone in my little boundaries corner! I'm always here for discussions about it.

And, oh boy, do I have thoughts on that, let's see if I can get them to be somewhat coherent.

I am going to start this off with a metaphor of sorts and hopefully people will be able to follow along. I'm an older sibling and have a little sister, and we grew up in an incredibly abusive and neglectful household.

When I graduated high school, I moved out for university, which was literally the best thing to ever happen to me - I got away, I was/am free! Now I have to deal with the consequences of all that shit though.

If my sister asked me to come back so I can help her fix our mother (entirely theoretical btw she'd never lol) would it be the right thing to say yes? Should I give up my personal freedom, my life, the healing process I am right in the middle of, to go back to a household that broke me? So I can be trapped with a person that will never change again?

The answer is, of course, no. I feel bad for my sister and I am praying she will be able o move out soon, but me going back would not solve a single fucking thing. See where I'm going with this yet?

Crowley left heaven and landed on earth, which was ultimately good for him, but he has a lot to process and heal from; he's right in the middle of his own recovery.

Heaven will not change, it cannot be changed. The entire institution is working as intended, and the intention is to be abusive, manipulative, and have as much power over everyone as possible. You cannot fix that, you need to get rid of it.

Aziraphale has good intentions, but he is also still trapped in that abusive household because he never moved out, he is the sibling that stayed behind, just mentally instead of physically.

Hot take, but many people in this fandom are incapable of understanding that "Aziraphale is acting based on good intentions and is still actively being abused/traumatized" and "Aziraphale did bad and unhealthy things and his relationship with Crowley was co-dependent and toxic" are co-existing. Both are true.

Both. are. true.

He did messed up shit out of a trauma response, but he is still responsible for his actions, and at the same time he deserves a chance to heal and move on from it. Please, at this point I am begging people to understand that this is not a black and white issue.

Crowley did not reject Aziraphale, if anything, Aziraphale rejected him.

Crowley said no to returning to an abusive environment for an impossible task. Crowley said no to sacrificing his mental and physical health for something that he knows will not happen. Crowley, for the first time in his life, set a clear and final boundary and put himself and his life over Aziraphale's wishes.

That is a good thing. It is necessary.

Season 3 will not be about Aziraphale fixing heaven or preventing the second coming (if anything it'll be accidental just like in season 1). It's going to be about him finding his way out of his abusive household and into a healthy environment in which they're both free and can heal.

Apart AND together.

It's not happily ever after, it's not perfect romance, it's not "soul-mates" or anything. It is messy, it is real, it is complicated, and I am so fucking tired of seeing it reduced to "love conquers all".

#alex answers asks #alex talks good omens #good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable divorce #good omens meta

57 notes · View notes

ofpineapplesanddawns · 2 years

Note

I don't know if you want to write this au chronologically, but I would love to see the first time Aziraphale shows Crowley his big boi shape on purpose (and perhaps not expecting Crowley to enjoy it as muxh as he does)

Currently, I'm actually writing the first one-shot into a full chapter right now to make it an official fic! :D (so there's more to it, and I fixed some errors I didn't catch before)

But I'm totally up for writing this~

Warning: angelic body horror, Crowley is now aware that Aziraphale is an angel (haven't figured out how he'll really learn yet), Crowley has thoughts

On with the fic!

"Are you sure you wish to see it?" Aziraphale asked, wringing his hands together, looking more nervous than Crowley had ever seen him be. Well, not since the big reveal, but still.

"I think... it would be best I got a better look at ya. I mean, the times I've seen you, I either ran away, or it was a glimpse." Crowley replied with a shrug.

They were outside of Aziraphale's cabin, eating a little picnic Crowley prepared. There was no work today, yet he still came in his jacket, Aziraphale liked when he wore his work jacket, said he liked seeing a man in uniform. Crowley always felt his heart beat a little faster when he wore it around the angel.

Aziraphale let out a breath, moving to stand up. "Do you promise not to run away?"

"Promise, cross mah heart and all that." Crowley said, making a motion over his heart. "Come on, let me see."

The angel still didn't look sure but he nodded, closing his eyes for a moment before he seemed to go rather... loose, his body slumping and his eyes rolling back in his head. Crowley gripped at the blanket he sat on, watching as Aziraphale's skin started to glow unnaturally, golden like the sun, the whites of his eyes becoming a blank, sky blue.

Then he rose off the ground and it happened so quickly, a flash, and Aziraphale's body was completely illuminated in a golden glow. And then it started to grow, change, and as it did, eyes started to appear along the growing lengths.

Familiar hazel looked every which way, before finally staring at Crowley, all of them looking at him from what he could tell. Crowley felt uncomfortable about this, but continued to watch as Aziraphale's light faded, becoming more bearable, and then the creature from that night was there.

Huge, beastly, covered in arms, eyes, and feathers. There was a line along the torso that opened, revealing perfect teeth, smiling in a way that only Aziraphale could, sweet, slightly unsettling.

"Hello, my dear." Came the echoing voice in Crowley's head.

"Holy shit..." Crowley whispered, looking at his, well, his boyfriend, apparently. Angelfriend? Is that the correct term in this situation?

He squeaked as large hands lifted him up off the ground, and suddenly he was being nuzzled by a large, mostly-human looking head. Aziraphale felt very warm, like when you laid in the sun for a while, he smelled like wet dirt, weirdly enough.

There was a loud, pleased hum from Aziraphale as he nuzzled, then he brought Crowley down close to his torso and- oh.

Crowley felt large, slightly wet lips kiss him, and it was weird, and awkward, and fuck if Crowley hadn't read about this sort of things in stories online.

"Uhh... sure, okay." He blinked and kissed at the tip of a finger, since he was a little scared to try and kiss Aziraphale's large mouth.

Crowley had thought about this sort of situation before, since finding out he was dating an angel, the same angel he had seen all those nights ago. And his stupid brain kept conjuring up... interesting scenarios when he was spacing out at work or in bed. At least in bed he could deal with them, at work he would panic and make an ass out of himself.

But here he was, looking up at the real deal. A lot of things could happen, he was sure, but right now, he just wanted to look at Aziraphale and all his body-horror wonder.

He had to admit, the angel was pretty attractive like this, in a weird, freaky way. They were still unsettling, but Crowley was fascinated by what he saw. Aziraphale was nothing like the angels he learned about in church as a child, or out of boredom as a teenager.

Aziraphale was so unique, like he was something on Crowley could look upon and not fear or worship on the spot. But then again, he could worship Aziraphale in a different sense, should things come to that.

"Do you like what you see?" Aziraphale asked, still weird that he could hear him in his head, yet he saw those giant lips move.

"Well, you're a lot hotter now than when I first met ya." Crowley said, like a damn fool. But Aziraphale laughed at this, and it made things echo around them.

"Thank you, that's very kind of you."

"Nnnn... not kind. Just honest." Crowley grumbled and Aziraphale laughed again, bringing him close for another kiss. Still weird, but... Crowley wasn't complaining. He could get used to this, he was sure.

This one is a little shorter since I want to finish editing the first chapter to get it up, but I just really like the idea of Crowley admiring his giant boyfriend, and then quickly letting his brain go in that direction.

#john's drabbles #celestial harmonies national park au #good omens #aziraphale #crowley #anthony j crowley #ineffable husbands

16 notes · View notes

mish-tique · 2 years

Note

Hi miss missha, it's Rose 🥺🌹!!

Uhm this one is early? I wasn't prepared at all.

Throuples!! They're actually neat, there's a whole lot of love going around, and good for them

And Finneas!!!

As always, SPOILERS below the rose line for those lurking in miss missha's tumblr

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

awww maxy roomies with yuki and guanyu 🥺🥺 love these combo, for sure maxy's got a lot on his hands with these two

i need to go to 100% face-to-face classes soon, i need that campus/uni vibes

"Max checks himself in the mirror really quick and decides that he looks decent enough to go out to grab them, a basic white t-shirt and blue skinny jeans. He’s going to be in and out anyways." <- maxy that's not very halloween of you

" But once he has it and opens one, he feels significantly more relaxed." <- max and his emotional support red bull 🥺

angel!charles and demon!carlos is perfect!!! and i could just sigh

yes maxy, both of them are demons, chaos demons

Thank you ferrari for the charlos visual, now i just need to insert max in the middle

actual angel!charles and demon!carlos??????

holy shit oh my god, i -i i need more of that oh my god, the possibilities the lore they must have had, they're like hornier versions of aziraphale and crowley ahhh the forbidden love(?) between two sides, then, then, both of them breaking the rules because they fell for a human????

going back to that good omens reference, ohh what if the world is nearing apocalypse, the forces of heaven and hell getting ready for battle, charles and carlos having obligations but they choose to be ready for whatever punishment they'll inevitably receive and stay with max, this human boy that they did not realize they'd literally defy heaven and hell for

they're defying God, the Devil, because they are not just pawns in whatever game heaven and hell plays and during whatever catastrophe the earth is experiencing, it is max that comforts the angel and demon staying with him

then as the apocalypse (not actual end of the world, it turns out) subsides, max wakes up alone, no sign of angel wings or demon horns beside him (maxy sleeps in between them - i)

punishment for the angel and punishment for the demon, and max spends his days wondering and wandering for his lovers

then he finds these cultists or whiches or whatever (i'll have to reread good omens or rewatch some other films of the same genre) and he finally gets to march to heaven and hell (or do some rituals idk) to negotiate or break out his boyfriends

gods i want to write this so much!! i'll save this on my notes as well and who knows, maybe in the future i'll drop a fic on your askbox

Thank you miss missha!!! Thank you also to the anon who sent this prompt, i'm also getting brainworms

Here's your roses because damn, I loved this one

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

-Rose 🥺🌹

LMAO yes i like playing around with times. i have no clue what timezone you're in but i can imagine that sometimes the schedule is a bit of a mess. just like me. OOPS.

"awww maxy roomies with yuki and guanyu 🥺🥺 love these combo, for sure maxy's got a lot on his hands with these two" <- pls for the sake of my life, i need content of the three of them together

"i need to go to 100% face-to-face classes soon, i need that campus/uni vibes" <- ngl i miss the whole uni thing. tho i mostly miss the coffee's and trips into the city for cafe's and eating out sdkghdskg

"maxy that's not very halloween of you" <- do we think max would entertain the idea of Halloween? TT

"max and his emotional support red bull 🥺" <- me and my crazy amount of emotional support red bulls that god me through writing the grindr fic

"they're like hornier versions of aziraphale and crowley ahhh the forbidden love(?) between two sides, then, then, both of them breaking the rules because they fell for a human????" <- rose love i do NOT have the mythological background i need to know more omg.

rose is good omens a show? a movie? a book? a girl (read: me) has questions

"punishment for the angel and punishment for the demon, and max spends his days wondering and wandering for his lovers" <- hello? rose???? WRITE THIS!! and buy me tissues so i can wipe away my tears wtf

"and he finally gets to march to heaven and hell (or do some rituals idk) to negotiate or break out his boyfriends" <- power human max!! love to see it

Rose, sweetheart, we need to get you to write your own fics bc damn.

#rose anon #🥺🌹#qued #missha's kinktober

0 notes

hypahticklish · 3 years

Text

gently play on your heartstrings

Summary: Where Aziraphale challenges Crowley's understanding of what intimacy can look like...and it backfires.

Word Count: 1657

Setting: Good Omens, post end-of-the-world

A/N: I wanted to write something in celebration of Good Omens receiving a second season. I love these two so much, it's about time I dabbled in writing them. I took inspo from @wordstrings naming conventions via using Queen lyrics. And I'm also posting a day early because I have no chill.

~~~

It was a Tuesday.

There were never any deals on a Tuesday worth pursuing in Crowley's expert opinion. And yet,

"Curry has been all the rage in London, what'd'you mean you're not interested?"

Aziraphale huffed from the passenger seat of the Bentley. "I mean I'm not in the mood for it. No, the shop is much too hot during the day as it is; I don't think I'd be able to stand more heat."

They pondered from deep within the white noise of the road. "Have we tried...foe? Po?" Crowley asked, his eyes narrowing as he puzzled out the pronunciation.

"Fuh, and we have."

"Take that as a no as well, then."

"Gabriel interrupted me the last time I had sushi." Aziraphale frowned.

"Did he now?" Crowley smoothly circled the Wellington Arch back towards Soho. "Can't have that."

~~~

"Canoodling?"

Aziraphale's cheeks were contentedly flush from shared bottles of umeshu. The dessert wine was the perfect complimentary night cap to their meal. "You know what I mean."

"I assure you we-we-we...I haven't the foggiest." Crowley sprawled across the loveseat in the bookshop's cluttered back room. His arm was slung across the back while his opposite leg dangled to the floor at the knee.

"Surely you do. Look at you, picture of a cad!" Aziraphale motioned from his plush chair adjacent to him.

"Proper harlot, I am." Crowley smiled broadly. His head tilted back to hang off the armrest and he nonchalantly adjusted his hips. "Still, what's canoodling got to do with anything?"

Aziraphale's eyes wandered along black fabric hills and valleys. "It's, uh, it's something Madam Tracy specialised in… don't laugh! I shared her mind - she is a professional!"

Crowley continued to chuckle. "You wouldn't know a canoodle if I found a VHS demo. Really, Aziraphale, a Blu-ray player wouldn't kill you."

"Intimacy, that's the word. And of course I know how - I'm an angel! Love is our thing."

"Sex isn't always love."

"Intimacy isn't always sex."

"Right," Crowley said. "Of course you," he spat the word while gesturing vaguely toward Aziraphale, "would figure all touch counts. Holding a hand equals a kiss, a cuddle equals a fuck -"

"And why wouldn't they?" Aziraphale countered.

"They just don't - oomph!" A sudden stubborn Angel sat heavily between Crowley's bowed out legs at the other end of the couch. He lifted his head enough to look startled. "What the heaven are you doing?!"

"Proving you wrong. Your hand, if you please. Thank you."

Crowley's fingers were long and slender things. Had he had the interest, he could have made a phenomenal musician. Aziraphale cupped the back of his hand and rubbed his thumb across the small bulge of muscle at the side of Crowley's palm. His other hand melted, casually, purposefully, into the hollow as they sought the pair of small buttons securing the cuffs of his long sleeve shirt. They eagerly popped free. Aziraphale slipped his fingers under the loosened hem and drove it slowly toward Crowley's elbow to expose his forearm. His skin had taken on many shades over time, depending upon how much sun it saw during an era's given fashion, yet his palms and wrist remain the same pale ivory since the garden. The tips of Aziraphale's fingers swept back to his wrist and traced the pronounced tendon. As Crowley reflexively went to close his hand, Aziraphale tightened his grasp with his thumb and pinky across his fingers and gently stretched it taut instead. He fluttered along Crowley's wrist, up over the heel of his palm, and walked circles around the crisscrossing lines for several minutes...months...millennia...

"Well?"

Crowley choked on the breath he hadn't noticed shivering in his chest. "Well, what?" He made a show of rolling out his shoulders and laid his head back again. He tossed his free arm back to dangle beside his head and did his very best to power past the relaxed smirk teasing his lips.

Aziraphale sighed softly and stilled his fingers. "You leave me no choice." He set Crowley's hand down at his side and carefully fell into position. It wasn't smooth yet him bumbling around on the small sofa made it all the more charming. By the end, Aziraphale was snuggling his face into Crowley's neck, one arm keeping him from falling off the edge while the other bent and held Crowley's side. His knees sank into the other cushion and left his legs pressed into the armrest with argyle socks crossed at the ankles.

"Ah, I see. Handhold and a cuddle." Crowley absent-mindedly wrapped his arm across Aziraphale's back. "This is your most devastating metaphor yet, Angel."

Aziraphale sniffed. "It was your metaphor. I'm merely proving these things can have the same intimacy as those other things." His fingers resumed their idle waltz, this time atop his ribcage.

"Have not," Crowley instigated. The fine hairs on his neck prickled due to the soft puff of air from Aziraphale breathing so close. The quiver in his lungs returned stronger as the ticklish touch brushed nearer to his open underarm. "Aziraphale," he warned from the back of his throat.

"Would you happen to be ready to admit you were wrong?"

"No, yo-HOO!!" Crowley's arm snapped down. A wild cackle escaped from the hundred's year-old cask of authentic mirth buried deep inside as fingers squirrelled away in his armpit. Aziraphale held fast and summoned an unnatural squeal with a direct stream of air blown exquisitely into his ear.

Crowley dug in his heels and bucked hard, flipping them off the loveseat and onto the rug covered floor. He took Aziraphale's soft tan lapels in his fists to pin his chest down and loomed inches from his face. Malevolent brows furrowed over fiery eyes bisected with a thin slit pupil. "Now you've done it!"

"C-crow-crowl-ley," Aziraphale badly stammered, pale faced and with both hands hanging onto his fiendish friend's wrists. The tumble had taken him quite by surprise and knocked some of the intoxicated wind out of him. Along with the righteous defiance he previously had been wearing. And the upper hand in these sorts of games they played. "I was only-"

"Proving a point? Yeeeaaa, fine job you've done with that. But now it's my turn," Crowley snarled with a manic smile that was all teeth. Had it been missing a distinct mischievous sparkle, he could have been perceived as a genuine threat. He leaned back onto Aziraphale's thighs and wrestled with his hands.

"Don't be silly!" Aziraphale half-heartedly struggled with wide eyes and a damning smile of his own.

"Much too late for that, I'm afraid." Crowley grappled the smaller celestial's wrists and tucked them carefully under the pressure of his legs. "You brought up canoodling." He flicked away the edges of Aziraphale's suit jacket and made short work of the buttons of his vest.

"Wait, Crowley -"

"You started the tickling." Crowley stretched out all of his fingers, fluidly pulled them to his palm and rotated his wrists. "Knowing full well how much more sensitive," poke, "and vulnerable," pinch, "and susceptible you are to it."

Aziraphale squirmed underneath him. "W-well tickling can be an expression of intimacy!" He swallowed hard as he watched where Crowley's hand would go next.

"And of canoodling."

"I misspeak one time -" Aziraphale's groan rapidly dissolved into cheerful giggles from a squeezing claw to his pudgy belly.

Crowley dropped to Aziraphale's ear by resting on his elbow, all the while pinching his soft sides. "Listen here, Lover Boy," he said, low and menacing. "How 'bout we explore just how intimate laughter can be, eh?" Crowley's fingers ran ribbing relays from sternum to where his Angel writhed into the ground. "Maybe I'll miracle up some scarves and feathers? Perhaps test finger tickles and mouth tickles and find where tickles the most tickles."

"St-stop saying the word!" Aziraphale pleaded.

Crowley nudged Aziraphale's head to the side so they were cheek to cheek and his lips brushed his ear. His fingers slowed to a crawl, and did so back toward his stomach. "Does the word tickle make you more ticklish?" Crowley chuckled as he felt his friend's blush burn his cheek. "Figured as much. To think, heaven's finest, so defenseless to a bit of tickling that simply speaking the word tickles them."

Aziraphale whined.

"I ought to thank you, Angel, for this opportunity to learn all about this intimacy you were talking about. It just tickles me."

"Oh, shut up alread-eee!" Aziraphale shrieked, followed by a full-on snorting guffaw from Crowley blowing noisy raspberries into his neck and kneading his love handle at the same instant.

His feet kicked helplessly behind them. Aziraphale tugged uselessly from where his hands were trapped. Peals of laughter were coaxed out with ease as Crowley made rude noises and nibbled hungrily at his throat. He switched hands to pinch and squeeze and play with the length of his untouched side, leading to robust waves of squeaks.

"Too tickly for you?" Crowley taunted.

"I-I-I-," Aziraphale attempted to respond and fell apart again due to Crowley copying him and blowing in his ear. "Crowley!"

Smirking with pride, the demon rocked back onto his heels, releasing Aziraphale's hands but remaining hovering over his body. Crowley rested his elbows on his knees and allowed his fingers to idly brush Aziraphale's panting stomach until they were blocked by crossed arms.

"You are a nefarious hellion," Aziraphale said once breath had returned to him. He sniggered and curled from the prods his insult earned him.

"Come on, you love it. I feel closer to you already." Crowley grinned down at Aziraphale, his pupils now perfect circles. "So, have you had enough yet or shall I tickle you some more?"

A slightly goofy smile slid across Aziraphale's face. He was disheveled and buoyant. "Would you happen to be ready to admit you were wrong?" He repeated.

The little old bookshop on the corner was definitely the loudest, and happiest, building in all of Soho that evening.

#ineffable husbands #Ticklish!Aziraphale #Tickler!Crowley #Aziraphale #Anthony J Crowley #Good Omens #Tickle fic #Tickling #Major bouts of #Tickle talk #Mine

145 notes · View notes

topaziraphale · 3 years

Note

Love to imagine that there were a few close calls with Gabriel where aziraphale had to pretend to smite crowley, which involved a lot of aziraphale pinning him down and a lot of sword bearing. Crowley very quickly finds out he has one hell of a kink ;)

“Of course I’m letting you win,” Crowley answers, banishing the dirt and wrinkles from both his and Aziraphale’s clothes with a snap of his fingers. Then, on a whim, he clears off any lingering sweat beading on his skin. He can’t do anything about the flush on his face and neck, or the way his legs are still wobbling. “Can’t have you losing in front of your own lot, can we? They might try and help you out, y’know. Might be worse for me in the long run, ‘s only selfish.”

Aziraphale’s frown deepens at the implication. “Oh. I assume this means I’ll have to let you overtake me when your people show up, then?”

“Er, you won’t. Have to. Do that, I mean.” Crowley stammers. Aziraphale raises his eyebrows. “They won’t crawl all the way up here to talk to me,” he elaborates, “they’ve got the radio and telly for that.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale says again, fumbling with the lowest button on his waistcoat for a moment. “Yes, quite right.” He smiles nervously. “Erm...” Crowley pretends he doesn’t notice the blush subtly rising on Aziraphale’s cheeks and the tips of his ears. “Well, knowing that, I must say that is very—”

“—no—” Crowley groans in annoyance, knowing exactly where that sentence is going, throwing his head back and grimacing.

“—kind of you to do, to let me win even though it’s all a ruse,” Aziraphale continues, his smile changing from nervous to irritatingly fond and knowing. “Rather considerate.”

“Fantastic,” Crowley grumbles, his face burning brighter for a different reason now. “Really made my day with that one, you did.”

In the short silence that follows, Crowley sniffs and looks down at his shoes, pretending to inspect them for any clumps of dirt. He realizes, belatedly, that neither of them cared to fix the messy state of the greenery and soil beneath them. It clashes with the rest of the neat, freshly mown blades of grass in this conveniently empty section of the park — a stark reminder of what just happened. The sight of it makes Crowley shiver. Suddenly his resolve to stay cool and collected vanishes into thin air. He hastily looks back up to find Aziraphale fiddling with the chain of his pocket watch, and he gulps.

“Er,” he starts awkwardly, nearly freezing when Aziraphale makes eye contact with him. “Right, anyway, I just remembered I have something to do. It’s important. I’ll pick you up later, shall I?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. He spins on his heel, turning his back on Aziraphale and shoving his hands in his pockets, making his smoothest attempt at nonchalance as he starts walking away. “I’ll meet you in the front of the bookshop.”

“What? Wait,” Aziraphale calls. “You’re leaving already?”

Crowley stops in his tracks, shock still, his breath hitching in his chest. He couldn’t have been found out. He wasn’t that loud, was he? Aziraphale doesn’t know, can’t know. If he knew…

“Won’t be long,” says Crowley, gritting his teeth, hoping he doesn’t have to outright lie, hoping Aziraphale doesn’t push. “An hour, at most. We won’t miss our reservation.”

“I… er, very well,” Aziraphale eventually says, sounding confused and a little hurt. “But, before you go, I need to ask you about… just now.”

There’s a brief moment of silence, and Crowley holds his breath, chills cold as ice sliding from the back of his neck down along the knobs of his spine as fear builds in his lower gut. When Aziraphale speaks up again, his voice is slightly deeper than normal.

“I hurt you this time, didn’t I?”

Crowley blesses under his breath. It takes all he has in him not to react outwardly, to lose his carefully constructed neutrality right then and there. Instantly, his mind plays back the stunt Aziraphale pulled only minutes ago.

It’s practically routine for them at this point, really; it’s a way for them to get out of a damning situation in a pinch. If someone from work unexpectedly shows up, they pretend to be mortal enemies, doing what mortal enemies are obliged to do should they ever cross paths: fighting to the death. (Discorporation, in these cases — and even then, they only need to make the viewer think that a discorporation has taken place, should it ever go that far.) It’ll be seen as two adversaries busy with work, and whoever it was that checked in will usually leave within a minute or two to let them get back to it.

They were taking a leisurely walk and having a (slightly heated, in the angel’s case) conversation about some of the menu changes at the Criterion, when Aziraphale suddenly kicked Crowley’s feet out from under him, pinning him face-down into the ground with his knee pressed onto his back. He had yanked his hair, forcing his head up, and swiftly brought the edge of a sword — having manifested the weapon from thin air — onto Crowley’s exposed neck. Crowley was hard in his trousers before he even realized what was happening, before he could even guess that Gabriel or any other one of those wankers was probably nearby, watching, and that Aziraphale was faking the attack like he had done many times before to keep them both safe.

But for a moment, Crowley didn’t know that.

As Crowley had grabbed fistfuls of dirt and grass and writhed under the perfect weight of Aziraphale’s body, he had thought it was real, and that Aziraphale really was going to smite him this time, and that he was truly at his mercy, finally getting everything he wanted. It was too much, the ringing in his head from falling to the ground, the pain in his spine, the white-hot burn in his scalp. Crowley couldn’t move and the sword was cold and sharp on the delicate skin of his neck and Aziraphale put his lips to his ear to whisper something and it sounded harsh and commanding and he whimpered—

“Crowley?”

Crowley blinks back to himself, his eyes wide behind dark lenses. He hears Aziraphale’s footsteps approaching him, the soft crunching of the grass beneath two Oxfords deafening amongst the low rumble of blood rushing through his ears.

“No,” he blurts out, his voice thin. “I’m fine, it’s fine.”

The footsteps stop. His entire body is trembling now, every inch of skin charged as if with electricity, surely to go off at the slightest touch. He clears his throat, vaguely wondering how much of a disaster it would be if he had to look Aziraphale in the face during all of this.

“I’m fine,” he repeats in a more natural tone. “Don’t make a fuss over it, you didn’t hurt me.” You did. “Same as always, nothing different about it this time.” Hurt me again. And again and again, until my throat is raw from screaming, until my face is wet with tears. Make me beg for it.

“It most certainly was not the same, you had no idea I was even going to attack you,” Aziraphale comments, sounding just this side of stern. Crowley’s stomach curls with something too close to pleasure from the tone of voice. Aziraphale sighs. “Are you quite sure I did not hurt you by accident?” he asks gently, because it’s just like him to have concern for Crowley’s well-being, even at the worst possible times. He takes one step closer, the space separating their bodies no bigger than an arm’s-length. Crowley can feel his stare burning right through his soul, can almost feel the heat radiating from his body. “I only ask because, ah, when you cried out, just then, you seemed…”

Alarms blare in Crowley’s racing mind.

Cried out, cried out.

Aziraphale did hear him.

And now he’s asking about it.

Crowley goes from half-hard to fully erect so quickly that it makes him dizzy, his dick throbbing in time with his heartbeat. Aziraphale only has to take a couple steps toward him and circle around to his front, and then he’ll have full view of the state Crowley is in. Then Crowley would have to explain himself, and he would be mortified, he’d be so humiliated, and the fear of it only makes his cock harder. There’s just not enough self-preservation in his current, lust-crazed state of mind to not want anything more than that.

“— truly distressed,” Aziraphale continues, pronouncing the words with the same caution one would use when walking on a tightrope. Crowley hears the faintest of wavers in his voice only because he’s known the bastard for too long. “I was afraid I used too much force this time.”

You could have used more. Used all of it. Put me in my place. Burned me with your light until I’m nothing, until I’m dust at your feet. Please, angel…

Crowley holds his breath again, the muscles in his neck tightening and his jaw aching with the effort it takes to kill the moan forcing its way up into his throat. His legs feel like jelly. The temptation to fall on his knees and admit it is palpable. He might as well come clean. Even if nothing happens now, Aziraphale will bring it up again later. That’s just how he is. Better to get it over with…

“No,” he croaks. He’s blushing so hard that the skin on his face and scalp itches furiously. “I wasn’t, I didn’t…”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Truly?”

“For Heaven’s sake, Aziraphale, I told you I’m alright,” Crowley snaps. More than alright. Crowley knows he’s going to revel in the ache for days, but he also knows, acutely, that he’s only jeopardizing himself more the longer he stays in this blasted park. He’s sure he wouldn’t be able to survive another round of questions; he can already feel his admittedly weak resolve slipping in the face of those warm, seaglass eyes, beckoning him to spill his guts and spew the awful, contemptible fantasies of being taken right there in the dirt, like he deserves, with a sword trained on his back and the angel’s name in his mouth. The only thing keeping him from doing it is his knowing how said angel would react — with an upturned nose and a look of disgust only reserved for the lowest of scum. He can’t do that to him, can’t be that to him.

“Oh, right then, that’s good,” Aziraphale’s voice suddenly pulls him out of his reverie, sounding disappointed, “that’s a relief.”

Crowley then hears the telltale rustle of clothes as Aziraphale fidgets, probably adjusting his waistcoat, before he calls out, “Well then, don’t let me keep you, dear fellow. Do mind how you go.”

“Same to you,” he says back, feeling moderately guilty.

He snaps his fingers, bringing himself to his flat. He lands on his back on his luxurious bed. The cool satin sheets do nothing to calm his rapid pulse or the lick of shame that follows as he claws at his belt, the zip’s teeth not daring to catch as he shoves his trousers down and takes himself in hand. The guilt instantly melts away, but the shame stays, however it only proves to spur him on even more.

Aziraphale will forgive him by the time they meet back up for dinner.

------------------

((I originally meant to use a couple lines of dialogue as an answer to this ask but then it turned into a small little fic, thingy, yeah. Huge thanks to @divinehedonism for beta reading this for me!!))

#SURPRISE I BET YOU THOUGHT YOU'D SEEN THE LAST OF ME #hiiiiii anon your ask has been in my drafts for months but i never forgot about you!!!! i was just nervous to post a little fic lol!#good omens nsft #nsft #bottom crowley #top aziraphale #derpy answers #derpy writes #high chance of me posting this on ao3 later #it literally took me 3 months building up courage to post this now i see why a/c took 6k years to hold hands lol #minors dni #don't think in my absence i won't check new followers i got for ages in bios #if ur a minor here might as well leave and save me the trouble of blocking you if you'd be so kind

246 notes · View notes