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secretdiaryofcrowley · 1 month

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Things to Do Today

1. Sober up and get rid of hangover

2. Ponder on how ridiculous this is

3. Get drunk again because I can't deal with this sober

I thought they were off to Alpha Centauri. Living that sweet life we will never have...

Well, it seems things don't always work out for other people, too.

Obviously. But let's rewind to last night and try to sort this all out.

"I was going to mysteriously appear in your car", Beelzebub said, "but somehow I can't get in anymore."

Oh.

"Also, when I tried to miracle myself in, the car suddenly turned yellow. Like some kind of defense mechanism."

OH!

"Things have changed, Beelzebub. You have to be invited in. And I'm certainly not go... gonna do that."

"Well, that's all right." They take a step closer. "We can just talk here."

"And I certainly don't want to talk."

"I brought booze."

My eyes shift between the empty bottle I'm holding and the full bottle in their hands.

Sigh.

I throw the empty bottle into the Thames (Yes, I should litter, I'm a demon after all. And maybe some hermit crab can build a home in it. Or some little fish family. Oh, lookey here, it's Nemo and the guys.)

Beelzebub passes the full bottle to me. It's obviously not miracled out of Hell, it's good old Earth stuff.

Mhm. Smells like it, too. And I just remembered that Nemo is a saltwater fish.

And so are hermit crabs.

I take a deep sip. Well, obviously not fish, but well.. you know.

"I heard about Aziraphale," Beelzebub looks at me with a sympathetic gaze and suddenly I feel the need to throw up. "I'm sorry, things didn't work out."

Bloody Heaven! I'm not going to talk to them about Aziraphale. It's bad enough with Maggie and Nina trying to get me to talk about Aziraphale, but Beelzebub? Really?

This is one of the few times I'm actually speechless, but being a fellow demon, Beelzebub should fully well be able to read my death glare.

They do. "Well, that's all right. Gabriel and I broke up, too, and I don't want to talk about it either."

They WHAT? They thwarted both Heaven and Hell for their love and now they fall out of it after barely three months?

Lucky for the both of us, Beelzebub freezes the bottle in mid air before it smashes on the ground. They grab it, take a big sip and pass it back to me.

We stand in silence, staring at the river. All is quiet, except for the city noises in the background, the sound of the water and the occasional burp from one of us as we devour the alcohol.

I know, I'm gonna regret this. I'm gonna regret this big time.

"So", I ask, turning to Beelzebub. "What exactly happened?"

~*~

More Diary Parts:

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16 / 17 / 18 / 19 / 20 / 21

#crowley #good omens #aziracrow #ineffable idiots #ineffable husbands #beelzebub #aziraphale x crowley #crowley is a mess #it is their car now

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milkywayskyy · 20 days

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Fallen Angel (hello tumblr this is my first post in seven years)

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #crowley good omens #fallen angel crowley #long hair crowley #crowley is a mess #artists of tumblr

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citizen-sade · 6 months

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youtube

Angels with silver wings, Shouldn't know suffering. I wish I could take the pain for you...

If God has a master plan, That only He understands, I hope it's your eyes He's seeing through...

Things get damaged, things get broken. I thought we'd manage, But words left unspoken left us so brittle, There was so little left to give.

I pray you learn to trust. Have faith in both of us. And keep room in your hearts for two...

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lesbi-and-epressed · 3 months

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Crowley: buying something in a shop

Cashier: that would be 14 cent--

Crowley: *demonic screaming noises*

#i felt the need to do something stupid #hope yall will forgive me #woah thats a bad tag to share on a Good Omens post #good omemes #good omens #crowley is a mess #crowley hates the 14th century

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livhowlett · 1 month

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I hope in S3 we get a moment where everything clicks for Crowley. Like he realises how much Aziraphale REALLY loves him.

He'd be in the bookshop (probably drunk) outwardly complaining about how he hates everything in there. And he looks at the walls

"Yellow! Stupid Yellow! I hate the color Yellow! All the worst things are Yellow! Sunshine, flowers, my eyes-"

Then it clicks and he just has a moment of remembering every moment Aziraphale has flirted/loved him over the past 6000 years. Cause Crowley only recently realised HE loved Aziraphale, S3 he needs to figure out how much Aziraphale has loved him.

Then he'd strom into Heaven to get his husband back.

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bookdrgn99 · 4 months

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I can't imagine that Crowley is much the type to care about Christmas (Saturnalia being a different story altogether) but I can easily imagine him enjoying how Aziraphale no doubt would get caught up in the season, especially after Armageddidnt.

My overall opinion on where I think Crowley's post breakup ratio of grief-anger-apathy reactions fall varies a lot. I imagine him experiencing all of them at different times and in different situations.

Now I'm left wondering how he would react about Christmas. It's a holiday, for him, steeped in Aziraphale's joy, but it's in a world that, for the first time, doesn't have Aziraphale in it.

#i made myself sad #good omens #crowley is a mess #ineffable divorce #ineffable husbands

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goodomens-girlie · 6 days

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Crowley would’ve loved Vivienne Westwood

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theplushfrog · 9 months

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It's Only a Matter of, Mine

Fandom: Good Omens

Main Characters: Crowley & Time itself

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: mild descriptions of injured birds

Read on AO3

See the thing about time is that it isn’t so much a straightforward thing. The idea that time marches ever onward in a neat and tidy line really couldn’t be further from the truth.

Time is like water. Well, also very much not, but minds can only hold so much, so for the purposes of explaining–time is like water. It moves in rivers, but also streams, creeks that twist and loop. It pools into ponds and lakes, then expands past thought into oceans and tides and–you see that this is all very difficult to keep within the metaphor.

Before time existed, there was still an order to things, but not a When, not a Before or After. And after time came to be, suddenly everything before time was just Before.

The thing about being older than time, was that if you paid attention, you noticed the difference.

And Crowley was quite a bit older than time. Older than many a thing, but never older than Her, even if that was all Before time.

His memories of those moments were fractured, holes and gaps filled with trauma. An aching howling void where Her Love had been. He wasn’t sure if he had been part of the creation of time, not like how he remembered holding the burning cores of stars, burning with Love and–well it wasn’t important.

It was just a surprise the first time he reached out, having had quite enough of the moment, and time listened.

He was still Crawly then, and he remembered the way Hastur had frozen in place. Crawly had been too shocked by the presence pooling around him, like gripping onto the edge of a skirt and having eyes turning down to notice you. Time had only sputtered before continuing, the feeling slipping out of his hands. Hastur hadn’t seemed to notice Crawly’s distraction afterwards.

Hell was a place where having an extra second or two would mean the difference between having your wings raked and gnashed, verse slipping free to tempt another day. (There was a reason not all demons had wings anymore.) He had lots of time to practice this strange power that didn’t seem to have a counter. The other demons were so frustrated with his seeming to teleport away (from their view), that many gave up and left him be.

When he started getting mischievous with it, they booted him up to the Garden.

He and time had a relationship. It whispered things, words and concepts from long into the future, or from paths that had branched off ages ago. It didn’t feel like an angel, or a demon. It didn’t feel like a person at all. Just the hint of a presence, so like but also unlike Her. Her presence was Love and the Word. Her Light would burn him if he were to crawl up close now. But time didn’t burn. It was a whisper of sand, but also the rush of sea water come to drown. The soft tick of a clock and the bone-shaking gong of a bell tower.

Time was like a sparrow that happened to perch on his shoulder if he asked sweetly enough. If he pulled hard enough on those drapes to stop the curtain from closing.

And there were times he tried to stall an actual curtain call. A few last second saves managed. Hell didn’t seem aware of this power of his, so they never asked why. But many times, he couldn’t do anything but stall the clock.

A few times he held time so taunt, so desperately, that when it finally did wiggle free, he was hit with quite a backlash.

Time would strive to take back what he stole from it.

Sometimes that was a small aging of his corporation. It was unsettling to feel death march slowly on the cells of his body, but in the end, he was a celestial being not his body.

Other times, it would rip entire days from him. Suddenly time would jump forward for him. Like a full glass suddenly finding itself missing a gulp. Usually these gulps from his personal hourglass built up, rather than coming immediately afterward he had pulled on time.

Sometimes he found he could coax these gulps to happen while he slept. He would awaken restless as if he’d had only a short nap, but find a week or more had passed. He wasn’t sure if time took pity on him (if it could even feel emotions at all?) or if something about sleeping made the process easier. Time was strange in dreams, after all.

Still, it was a handy tool in his kit, especially one that didn’t seem to be logged anywhere in Hell’s paperwork and therefore didn’t need to be explained to anyone. Well, almost anyone. Aziraphale had been quite perplexed the first time.

He hadn’t really thought about it when he came across Aziraphale surrounded by an angry mob. This was after Sandalphon’s doing, the humans had been infuriated and looking for a scapegoat. Crawly had slipped through to see Aziraphale’s wings being held down by several of the mob. He hadn’t really thought about it. It was easy to just cup the rush of time for a moment, and move.

“I told you–” Aziraphale cut himself off, blinking rapidly at the suddenly still humans. “Oh my, what–”

“Angel, best get going.” Crawly ripped the stiff hands from his wings, freeing him. He carefully kept his voice neutral, removing the rage he felt at seeing the angel like this.

“Cra–” Aziraphale didn’t move, staring at him in shock, and Crawly let the cup fall. The humans screamed and Aziraphale jumped into the sky. Leaving the mob shouting and screaming around Crawly.

Later, Crawly had cursed himself for letting an angel of all things see his power in action. For not just pausing the angel as well and his part in the rescue going unrealized. It had seemed natural to scoop the time up around him, instead of including his time as well. Crawly had shrugged uncomfortably to himself. At least he hadn’t been stupid using his demonic miracles to save the angel–that definitely would have been noticed. Curse his heart and how it tightened and squirmed. He was sure the other demons’ hearts must’ve burnt up in their Falls. Or maybe Hell had ripped them out of the others. No one had been able to catch him to have the chance.

And he wouldn’t give them the chance. He needed to stay under the radar (what was a radar?) and stop giving into his squirmy squishy heart’s pleas.

Fortunately (or unfortunately) Crawly, later Crowley, would continue being terrible at not giving into his very squishy heart.

It was much later when Aziraphale finally questioned him on what had happened that day. Well afterward, when drinking in Rome had opened them up to friendly chatter and work gossip.

“You know, I have never seen anyone do what you do.” Aziraphale had said in his around about questioning way.

“Yep.” Crowley replied, popping the P sound was particularly nice to do after a few drinks. “Only one serpent to do serpent-y things yanno.”

“That too, but I meant more of your crowd control methods. Of course, I am still grateful, don’t misunderstand, but also it was quite the experience at the time. I feel that I didn’t fully express my grat–”

“Ssssshuuuuudd it.” Crowley hissed. “I don’t want your thanksss or any of your other disgusting platitudess. I had my reasons, so keep whatever you feel to yourself.”

He sidestepped the conversation and while he could feel Aziraphale’s curious eyes on him, he didn’t ask again.

He didn’t ask after Paris either, but again, Crowley could feel his curiosity grow.

He didn’t ask after the next time or the time after that.

But at Tadfield air base, Crowley knew he wouldn’t be able to avoid questions for much longer. Nor could he avoid the consequences for his actions.

Time always strove to take back what he stole.

And this time, he had gone ahead and pulled down the whole curtain, rod and all.

The sands he had found them in were both familiar and not. The start and end of everything, a place beyond time. Even the whisper gong of a presence usually watching him was gone in this place. He had thrown a rock into the puddle and splashed all the water out. The sparrow of time was limp in his hands.

It was worth it, he told himself, to give Adam a moment. Just one extra moment.

Then he had to concentrate. He spun his lever in hand, feeling the air rev around them. Well not the air. Water flung far from his rock throw being pulled back. The sparrow twitching beneath his hands.

His heart ached. His best friend was certainly Aziraphale, but time was a close second. He had hurt it. He could see that now, a scar on the riverbanks. A fine crack in the hourglass.

He spun the lever again. What was left of the Bentley pushed with him. Just like restarting a heart. He spun the lever again. Water dripped and slopped unevenly. One of the sparrow’s wings fluttered in panic.

He spun it again.

It felt like being hit by that firehose all over again. The puddle was no longer a puddle, water rushed in all at once, flooding it. The sparrow jumped and twisted in his hands. He held his ground.

He spun it again.

And–

The air popped and the scent of ozone hit him like a train. His hand grasped on nothing and he turned to see the world back in its place, time furiously speeding by like a bell tower’s gong rippling through space.

Aziraphale grabbed his empty hand and Satan stared them down.

Consequences would come later, he knew.

He hoped it would understand.

#fanfiction #good omens #good omens fic #kits writings #crowley is a mess #crowley's time powers are FASCINATING to me #sorry this cuts off a bit abruptly #first thing I've written in ages #I may add more later on but this is complete for now

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skyasimaru · 2 years

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New podfic is up and out! @snae_b's "Crossing Guard(ian Angel)"chapter 1/3! Crowley is a single dad and quite a mess on his daughter's first day of school. Aziraphale is a crossing guard/teacher at the school. A bit of danger, a bit of fluff, then eventual smut ensues. Link to podfic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42280596/chapters/106163784 Link to original fic if you’d rather just read it instead :) https://archiveofourown.org/works/41169180/chapters/103204782#workskin Enjoy! Very Respectfully, SkyAsimaru

#snae_b #skyasimaru #narrations #fanfiction #podfic #podfics #good omens #aziraphale #crowley #single dad au #human au #crowley is a mess #but aziraphale is there too...well #make him more of a mess really lol #in a loving way #affectionate #sweet stories #three chapters

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secretdiaryofcrowley · 16 days

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Things To Do Today

Be angry at Nina for making things so difficult. Instead of talking to me, she could’ve just written more notes for me to ignore.

Ponder on Nina’s words

Overthink

Go back to sleep because my brain hurts from overthinking

Wake up and work up the courage to speak to Maggie and to Muriel

Have a few drinks to be more courageous

Sober up because I can’t very well talk to them drunk. Maggie would probably not take me seriously and Muriel would be really confused or even scared. They haven’t experienced me in full drunk mode yet.

Yell at plants to let off some steam

Drive around, not necessarily in the right direction.

Nina says that Muriel thinks it’s their fault that I’m not talking to them, not visiting the bookshop anymore and not responding to any of their notes and cards. I was so shocked I almost dropped my shades.

I can’t wrap my head around it. I couldn’t even wrap my entire body around it if I was in my snake form.

I mean, we all messed up in some way or other. The angels messed up, the demons messed up, Gabriel and Beelzebub messed up, Shax messed up, Aziraphale messed up, Floating-Head-Coffee-Or-Death-Guy messed up, Maggie und Nina messed up, and I have been walking chaos since I started walking on legs. (Might have been crawling chaos before that). The only person who really didn’t have anything to do with any of this, was former-inspector-constable, now bookseller-to-bee.

Why do they think it’s their fault? I don’t understand it at all. I know that humans sometimes feel guilty for something they’re not responsible for, but Muriel is an angel. They should think that they’re always doing the right thing.

But then, Aziraphale has experienced guilt before. Even then when things weren’t his fault. Perhaps guilt is an angel thing after all.

I wish I could tell Muriel that this has nothing to do with them. It's a good thing that they keep the bookshop safe.

I just can’t be in there at the moment because everything reminds me of him. But I can't talk about that to Muriel. I can’t be on Whickber Street, I can’t talk to Maggie and Nina, I can’t deal with this, I can’t process it. And I’m sorry for causing them pain. I don’t want any friends because I don’t want to cause others pain.

It was my damn job to cause others pain for so long.

~*~

More Diary Parts

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16 / 17 / 18 / 19 / 20 / 21

@aziraphalesdiaries @muriel-not-the-dim-one

#good omens #crowley #aziracrow #aziraphale x crowley #ineffable husbands #crowley is a mess #crowley is lonely #crowley's heartache

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