ANGEL OF THE LORD

𝙜𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙣 𝙜𝙖𝙩𝙚.   

[zeraphale-blog]

fuck

[zeraphale-blog]

𝑪𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒆𝒚.

𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐑 that this should have been a conversation done sober  —  the liquor had done little to quell his nerves anyway  &  with a small grunt he released the toxins hold on him.  with a  (  relatively  )  clear mind,  crowley then tried to soften himself.   his tone was confusing the angel   /   which was understandable   —  but the frustration leaking out in his tone was at himself.   the demon took another long breath in, steadied himself,  and let his gaze lock onto aziraphale’s steadily for the first time that night.

❛  i knew you’d be able to tell something was off and i didn’t want to bring it up until i was here in person, aziraphale.  ❜   the words are spoken much   softer   now, crowley trying to keep his own self-frustration at bay as he once again searched for the words he needed to make himself clear.   ❛  i don’t know what it means for us  —  what do   you   want it to mean for us ?  i don’t want to never see you again though, that’s literally the opposite of what i’m trying to get at.  ❜

          ❝     well, i  .  .  .    ❞     aziraphale clears his throat, meeting crowley’s gaze, albeit not without difficulty.       ❝     i don’t want anything to change. at least not badly.      ❞    he shifts, the hand he’d used to lean against the desk moving as he does, barely brushing crowley’s own which still rested beside it.    ❝     and i suppose you ought to know, i  --   well, i’ve sometimes thought similarly  .  .  .  about you.     ❞     now and again over hundreds   (  𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔 )    of years, he’d skirted around the fact. questioned and shied away from feelings not unlike the ones the demon’s offered for his own consideration.   ❝     quite often. rather.    ❞  

[zeraphale-blog]

𝑪𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒆𝒚.

𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐋𝐄𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐋𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐅𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆  at the inability to effectively express himself.  love took many different forms but the love he felt for aziraphale was specific.  it wasn’t a long-endeared acquaintanceship any longer it was deeper than that.  crowley covered his face for a moment and let out a groan  —  directed at himself.  he was unsure of how to make it more understood to the angel that he didn’t mean    a 6000 year old friendship   he meant a very real feeling that made it feel like if he’d had a heart that beat the way human’s did it would be popping straight through his chest bone right about now.

❛  𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇 !   why is this so  bloody hard  to get out ?!  ❜   long arms pushed him from the seat again, pouring himself another drink before swallowing it once again in one gulp. he thought about stepping toward the angel, thought better of it…then did it anyway.   ❛  aziraphale.   i don’t mean you’re a bloody acquaintance   —   it’s different    i’ve never    i think i’m   in love   with you aziraphale   and not in the way a bloody friend is.   ❜   as soon as the words leave his mouth crowley stands shocked even at himself.   the plainness with which they are spoken surprised him as he rested a hand on the desk near him for support.    oh hell would be very displeased if they’d ever heard those words leave him.

                 𝑰𝑺 𝑰𝑻 𝑯𝑰𝑴 𝑶𝑹 𝑫𝑶𝑬𝑺 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑨𝑰𝑹 𝑭𝑬𝑬𝑳 𝑽𝑬𝑹𝒀 𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑳𝑳 ?      aziraphale releases a held breath, swallowing thickly as his space is suddenly shared with the other, elliptical eyes meeting the angel’s not - quite - grey - or - blue with a certain frustrated sincerity that has him reaching toward the same desk to support himself, the pleasant mask of his features fading into something a bit more .   .   .  well   ---    helpless.     ❝     oh,     ❞  the word makes another dreaded appearance, but it’s smaller this time, barely audible.      𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴, 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦.   god help him.    ❝     oh.  i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to assume  .  .  .    ❞        his weight shifts, mouth opening only to close again. he does this twice, before it occurs to him that he must look very much like a fish gasping for breath. he clears his throat, resisting the ridiculous urge to giggle nervously.   ❝     well, i .  .  . i   ----   you seem not to be very keen on the idea. at least it .  .  . you know, it sounds that way. so i suppose i wonder, you know. what  .  .  . what does that mean. for us.  are you telling me this because you think it’d be better not to see each other, because i would not be  ---  very keen on that, myself. but if it would make you more comfortable .  .  .   ❞   is it appropriate to tell him how he feels ?  he’s trying to remember ever having been in this situation   ---  whether it’s better to wait until they’re sober to admit such a thing, or, if the demon means to end their friendship, whether it’s better to keep it to himself.    ❝     you didn’t say anything the whole flight   .  .  .  i --  i thought you were upset with me but i do hope not to that point.     ❞  

[zeraphale-blog]

𝑪𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒆𝒚.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐃 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒  and begins to pace in place muttering to himself for a moment. shoulders drawn up tense as he tried to figure out exactly what he wanted to say   —   and how he wanted to say it. he’d have been better off telling satan to    go fuck himself   over this and both thoughts terrified him quite equally.  an exasperated sigh fell from him as he finally fell into an armchair and set the glass down  /   three was enough  … any more and he’d have been incoherent all together.

❛  alright.   alright !   i’m just going to say it.  ❜   the words were spoken aloud though mostly to himself as he finally pulled glasses from his face and looked aziraphale in the eye, hoping it would give him courage when all it did was make him want to run away faster,   ❛  you know  humans   /   clever little things humans  /   how they  …  well how they  … you know !  how they fall in   𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄  and do all that   sickening   lovey-dovey stuff  ?  ❜   he was already losing his footing as he tried again to say what he was really trying to say,   ❛  what if   …   shit i don’t know how to say this, angel   …   what if  … i felt that way about        you ?  ❜   immediately his mouth seals shut as he looks down at his own hands now wrung together nervously.

❛  it’d be quite ridiculous, wouldn’t it ?  ❜

               he’s watching as he paces, brows still drawn taut, concern etched into his features  ---   when he finally drops into the chair and the words come spilling forward, it takes a moment for the angel to process.       ❝     oh.    ❞     aziraphale responds dumbly,  wincing to himself at his inability to come up with anything better in the moment. the humanity he wears like a second skin betrays him slightly, the tips of his ears going a bit red, noticeable to the angel by the unmistakable warmth that comes of it.    ❝     ridiculous, no, i    ----    lots of people come to love one another when they’ve been together long enough. we’ve known each other thousands of years, of course we’re bound to .  .  . you know. have a very  .  .  . well, a  very deep and --  and  mutual acquaintance.   ❞      he swallows, finally taking a swig of his own drink which deepens from a swig to a gulp rather quickly.  the wording of crowley’s question still twists the base of his stomach in uncomfortable knots. he knows it must be difficult for him to come straight out with his emotions   --   the difference between in love and love is likely not clear. still, the angel clings to the confession, his cheeks a little redder, too.     ❝     there’s nothing wrong at all with that  ---   well, maybe hell would have a bit to say about it. but we’re all angel deep down .  .  . and we’re made for that sort of thing. love, i mean.     ❞

[zeraphale-blog]

𝑪𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒆𝒚.    

❛  𝐎𝐇   𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓   —   𝐓𝐇𝐄   𝐂𝐀𝐓  ❜   truth be told in the frenzy of his own thoughts, the demon had completely forgotten about his mention of possibly obtaining a little creature.  now the mention of it made him wonder if that was what the angel had been worried about the whole time.   part of him wanted to burst into laughter at the entire ludicrous situation.   truthfully he wanted to skip past this part to the part where he knew what was going on.   he didn’t want to continue to sit in the worry of how it would be taken   —   though crowley considered himself to be able to read the angel fairly easily   /   this was one subject matter he’d been eager to avoid until now.

absentmindedly, crowley brought two glasses out and waited for them to be filled, as soon as the liquid was in the glass it was down his throat.  he poured himself another and downed it before even thinking of speaking again.   ❛  right  —  uh  so how’s it been here ?   have the other angels bothered you at all ?   still   off the hook    are we ?  ❜   inside his mind screamed at him  DAMMIT BASTARD JUST SAY IT.

                 the angel still hasn’t taken a sip by the time that crowley’s downed two glasses  ---  he hesitates to reach out and fill it a third time, and yet feels compelled to, regardless. it’s clear the demon needs a bit of steel for whatever it is that’s on his mind.     ❝     alright, my dear ?   ❞   he’s asking, brows drawn toward one another in the middle, a faint kiss of worry present as he presses his lips together. it doesn’t occur to him that he’s not answered crowley’s original questions, far more focused on what seemed to be eating at his company.  

[zeraphale-blog]

𝑪𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒆𝒚.

𝐀𝐒   𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐍   𝐀𝐒   𝐓𝐇𝐄   𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑   𝐈𝐒   𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐃  crowley can feel his resolve to speak his mind wither.  he can tell that aziraphale has been overthinking the lack of communication  (  though who could blame the angel when they had been chattering regularly up until this point  )  head dipped as he entered the bookshop hoping the general comfort of the place would put his nerves at ease  —  which unfortunately was asking too much for the corded ball of tension that sat at the pit of his stomach. he’d read through   two   different books  /  which was the first time he’d finished a book at all in …   centuries   /   about being   open with one’s emotions   and still felt at a complete loss.

❛  oh  —  yeah, didn’t really think about the time when i got here.  ❜   yellow eyes took in the angels’ attire, he’d clearly been set up to relax for the rest of the night.   now atop the nerves of speaking his truth sat a thin layer of guilt for not waiting until a more appropriate time of day.   not that they needed sleep at all,  but it was still nice to bask in the quiet hours of the human world.   ❛  it was alright   …   rather slow but   it was fine.  ❜   words stumbled out of him in an uncharacteristic fashion as he ambled further into the shop in an attempt to distract himself from well  …  himself.

❛  do you mind if we   uh    have a chat ?  ❜   voice croaked as he turned on heel again, now acutely aware of the differences in their dress.   ❛  over a strong drink …  if you’re up for it ?  ❜

        slippered feet shuffle faintly against the floor as he shuts the door behind them, hands once more wringing together once finished with their action and he’s left to follow after the other. he blinks and with it the lights in the back come on, and he’s en route toward it, preparing a catch - all response regarding crowley’s trip when he asks about a chat. IT’S ODD, the way aziraphale’s stomach seems to clench at the notion.     ❝     oh, sure   ------   sure, we can chat.   ❞      he resists the urge to question,  𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴, 𝘪 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦,  simply smiling a little wider, hoping the anxiety doesn’t burgeon over the edge as he’s vividly imagining it soon will. he picks off toward the back where they typically settle for an evening of drinking, and opens the cabinet where he keeps his liquor, staring into it without really reading the labels.   ❝     you know   ---    this cat business. they are a little goblin-y aren’t they  .  .  .  i think it’d be very dastardly, indeed, if you got one .  .  .   ❞    he trails off, blindly picking out a bottle and turning to place it on the little table, teeth visible in the brief flickering of his smile.     ❝     glasses, if you’d be so kind ?  ❞  

[zeraphale-blog]

𝑪𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒆𝒚 .

    AZIRAPHALE & CROWLEY HAVE A CHAT. @zeraphale

             𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚕😇💗:   𝚈𝚘𝚞'𝚍 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎, 𝙸'𝚍 𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚎. 𝙸𝚏 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 … 𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜?

𝐈𝐅    𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐋𝐄𝐘   𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃   𝐀   𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐒𝐄   𝐇𝐈𝐒   𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃   𝐁𝐄   𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆   as he stared at the blue screen of his phone.  the apocalypse had been such a flurry that there had been no time to think.   now  —  all he had was time to think.   and he had been thinking.   about everything  :   that is to say  …  mainly about aziraphale.  he’d never allowed himself to linger on it for too long in his mind, he always told himself to stop before getting to ahead.   they were an angel and a demon  —   aziraphale had said it  /  though crowley knew it.   he’d known it from the second he’d set eyes on the angel after the fall.   they were never meant to enjoy themselves together    —   and yet.

the flight landed earlier than expected  /   though it was still far earlier in the morning than anyone would consider trying to go into a bookshop.   but crowley wasn’t just anyone   —   and this wasn’t just any bookshop.  he’d spent the last handful of hours contemplating what he would say and still found himself cotton-mouthed and unable to think of even the first word he’d wanted to say.   but he knocked anyway  &  waited.

THE ANGEL GLANCES UP SHARPLY at the knock on the door, incredulity written stark across the jut of his bottom lip. humans truly have no sense of propriety   ---     knocking on a door at such a  .  .  . such an ungodly hour. imagine if he’d been properly asleep.  with a huff, aziraphale lashes together the open ties of his housecoat, and stalks toward the door, intent on  giving whomever it was a piece of his mind, but stalls as he nears it, the unmistakable aura of crowley evident even from the other side of the door. he hesitates, pocketing the cell phone he’d still been intermittently staring at half the night into the large pocket of the robe, fiddling with his own fingers after they’re free.    𝒉𝒆'𝒔 𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒅   that the demon is cross with him,  for what aziraphale has been as yet unable to divine.  they’d barely spoken in the last several days, certainly nothing he imagines could have put him off.  he swallows and finally takes the last handful of steps to the door, turning the knob and letting a weak approximation of his token joviality tilt his mouth.       ❝     ah    ------     crowley.    wasn’t expecting you !   how was your flight ?   ❞    he stands to one side, and gestures him in.

[zeraphale-blog]

😇

[son-of-a-bee]

same energy

[helhaths-deactivated20190915]

@zeraphale

[zeraphale-blog]

nothin feeds me quite like the fact that michael sheen ships it

[dirbyagnesvarda]

john my beloved - sufjan stevens / birds hover the trampled fields - richard siken

[zeraphale-blog]

kik for aziraphale: zeraphale discord to plot w. me: clairehales#8132

[zeraphale-blog]

❥     𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌  𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘  𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄  𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒  𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓  𝐎𝐍𝐄  :   @helhaths   𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥:    ❛  𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯’𝘵  𝘺𝘰𝘶  𝘵𝘩𝘦  𝘰𝘯𝘦  𝘸𝘩𝘰  𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘸  𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵  𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨  𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘴  𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘭  𝘢𝘵  𝘵𝘩𝘦  𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘦  𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯  ?  𝘯𝘰  -  𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵  .  𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵  𝘸𝘢𝘴  𝘮𝘦  .  ❜

             aziraphale chuckles in spite of himself, head shaking from side to side as he turns his head out to observe the ducks on the water, watching as they peck every now and again at a bit of raisin bread or hunks of bagel.  it trails off to an end, his throat clearing, ringed hands threading together and settling at the dip between his thighs.     ❝    now, look, my dear boy   -----  i keep telling you .  .  .   𝒊 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒘  the biscuits at the seagulls. and it was just to  ---  frighten them away from all that fire.  i would never deface a public building.   ❞

[zeraphale-blog]

            aziraphale’s expression whenever someone has the steel fucking nuts to come into his shop and try to buy something.

[zeraphale-blog]

❥     𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌  𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘  𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄  𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒  𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓  𝐎𝐍𝐄  :     @mysterhe 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥:     ❛  …  𝘢𝘳𝘦  𝘺𝘰𝘶  𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵  𝘢𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘥  𝘵𝘰  𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵  𝘯𝘦𝘸  𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦  ?  ❜

              ❝     ——      no.  ❞       the angel bristles, as much as one of his particular presentation can bristle.  all in all, he’s still decidedly unthreatening, and the hmph which follows before he turns away to busy himself with the stacks is more or less acquainted with that truth.       ❝     it’s just   —–   given the flammability of,  things .  .  . hereabouts .  .  . i could do with less  𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐.    ❞ 

[zeraphale-blog]

the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan and Lord Of Darkness.

[zeraphale-blog]

now all that said. his shop is homey as fuck and smells lovely and is warm and inviting to anyone that is not interested in purchasing rare copies of collectible bibles or any other books therein.