Good Omens X Reader - Blog Posts

Hello my little stars! I’m Hayden! and here’s what I will and will not write!

This will be added too over time

Will write

• fluff

• character x male!reader

• character x gender neutral!reader

• suggestive stuff (making out, etc)

• hurt with comfort

• angst

• FtM

• sometimes MtF

I won’t write

• Smut (this could change in the future)

• topics like self harm and suicide as those are triggering topics for me

• racist or homophobic shit.

• abuse or things like that to humans or animals

• piss and shit kinks and others like that

• Murder in detail

• Female readers YALL have enough content (respectfully of course)

Fandoms I will write for

• the little vampier (the newish animated one)

• Undertale (Aus as well)

• Yuurivoice

• TWST

• TMNT (rise, bayvers, 2012)

• Danganronpa

• ATWOW

• Avatar

• Obey me! Shall we date

• Arcana

• Gravity falls (platonic only for dipper and mable)

• The Black phone

• The lost boys (1987 movie)

Again, Anthony J. Crowley x Male Reader

Another life.

A/N: This is an angst post, so no happy ending. Sorry not sorry (⌒‐⌒)

Enjoy!

______________________

It was never meant to turn out this way. Hell thought it was a grand idea. He'd tricked a human into falling in love with him. It was brilliant and got another soul downstairs! Only, he hadn't tricked you into anything. He'd actually fallen in love with you too. With you as a demon, despite how much he thought you deserved better, meant you could always be together. And then Heaven intervened. An angel had caught wind of this whole ordeal and got angry. That was a low blow, even for a demon. So even in eternal damnation, Crowley was punished once more.

The angle cast the 'gift' of infinite reincarnation upon you. It would be great, if only you kept your memories. But you didn't. Each new life you were born into was just that. New. But that wasn't the worst part. Not for poor Crowley. His punishment that tied into this was that in each new life of yours, you'd meet again. And each and every time, you'd fall in love with him. And each and every time, he got to watch your death. It was horrible. In his opinion, this was worse than you ever getting sent to hell. Like this, you never got to rest or reflect. It was just life, over and over again. A never ending cycle that you didn't deserve.

He blamed himself. He tried countless times to make a miracle of his own to save you from this punishment. But nothing ever worked. Once, he tried to go to Aziraphale for help. To no avail of course. He expected as such though. At some point, he attempted to make you hate him. Or pretend to hate you. So that you'd just leave him alone for the rest of whatever lifespan you had. That worked a few times. The guilt he felt afterwards never went away. His heart lurched at every reincarnation of yours he met. Your age and gender varried from time to time. How old you were when you met him. Sometimes you were just a kid who bumped into him by accident. Sometimes you were an elder who needed his help crossing the street soundly.

Man or woman, it was always you. Unmistakably, you. Your name never changed. Or that look in your eyes you got each time you fell in love with him. He'd lost count of how many times you were reborn by now. For while, he did keep track. But that only added to the pain, so he stopped. Somewhere along the lines he tried to go to his head office about all of this. As a desperate final attempt to put this to a stop. His plea was that with you stuck in eternal life, you could never come join Hell. Sure, it convinced them. Mostly. Not a whole lot of the Dark Council cared all that much. He made a fair point, but whatever they tried didn't work either.

You were the reason he hated the 14th century. Because that was when you met him for the first time. The first time you fell in love with each other. He hated thinking about it. About you. How if he had just left you alone, then you would have never been subjected to this cycle. And neither would he. It started again today. You met him. It was the usual age, the same as the very first time you met. You were male, too. Just like the first time. This time though, was when of the few that he saw you first. That should have given him the opportunity to run away, or miracle you to a different location. Something, anything. But he didn't. He froze in his place. It had been over twenty years since he last saw you.

You were just as handsome as you'd always been. And you staring at his Bentley. On the sidewalk with a look of awe upon your face. Like you'd never seen a vintage car before. Or you were happy to see another. For a split second, everything around you turned white. You stayed same, and you looked just as you did back in the fourteenth century. With a blink, the world returned to normal. Suddenly he felt sick to his stomach. As if he may throw up or like he'd been dammed again. He'd long forgotten what he was going to his car for in the first place. His plans or general train of thought completely vanished. He couldn't do this. Not another life. Not for the umpteenth time.

Somehow though, his feet miraculously began to move. In his usual sassy saunter, he approached the car. "Can I help you?" He spoke rather dryly, holding a dull expression behind his sunglasses. He startled you a bit, and you quickly snap your head to the side to look at him. A big, but awkward smile pulled on your lips. "Oh, uhm! Sorry, is this your car?" He lazily quirked an eyebrow as you pointed at the Bentley, as if it weren't obvious enough which car you were talking about. "'Tis. Why?" He questions as he tilts his head back slightly. As stoic and irritated as he may seem, on the inside he was truly hurting. Screaming, crying, getting so worked up that lightening struck him.

You gaze returned to the car, your smile turning softer and more genuine. "That's so cool. I love vintage cars. I didn't think anyone in London actually drove them anymore" A tiny scoff of what could have been amusement escaped him. You never failed to make him fall just a little deeper in love with every interaction you had. Even if you never remember it. He did, that's what mattered. "Oh sorry, how impolite of me," your gaze returns to him "I completely forgot to introduce myself. I'm Y/N. It's nice to meet you, Mr...?" You trail off, waiting for him to finish the sentence for you.

"Crowley."