Good Omens Oneshots

the picture

Credit to @ emotionaly_deranged on tik tok for the picture (if they don't want me to use it I will remove)
{I would say enjoy but you probably won't. Sorry in advance <3}

Tw - S**cide

As he sat in the uncomfortable wooden chair, he poured the liquid that stung him through the thin wine glass. He had two glasses. The other with normal water.  

     Quietly he sat there for a minute, questioning his decision. It had been quite a long time since he had seen his Angel. His hair was quite long now. Curly like his hair in Eden, but a bit longer. She didn’t cut it, as Aziraphale always noted how he missed her old hair. 

     With a sigh, he held up the picture that Furfur took of them in the 40’s. He couldn’t help but smile at the picture of him and the angel. She smiled as he remembered how nervous he was that he was going to accidentally shoot the angel. 

     He remembered Eden when Aziraphale gave away the flaming sword. 

     Noahs Ark. 

     The incident where the angel might’ve had his head cut off if she wasn’t there to rescue him. 

     Shakespeare. He remembered that man took all his ideas. Sometimes he wished that plagiarism that demons created along with homework for schools was created sooner. Though he did enjoy Romeo and Juliet. 

     The Church. 

     He frowned as he remembered the times of armageddon. Or should he say Armageddon part two? She wasn’t sure. The Angels did not win, as he thought.  He remembered what  happened to the angel, but then he cut off his thoughts.

     She was sitting here for a reason. He wanted to get on with it, but he was hesitant for some reason.

     The memories of Armageddon part two flooded his mind. 

     They ran. They hid. But the demons still found them. They kept Crowley alive just for the reason of not having holy water. Aziraphale lived, but not really. 

     Beelzebub had to cut off his arm so the fire wouldn’t completely overtake him. He looked over at the Angel laying on the worn out couch from the 2020’s. What a wretched time. She always made sure the couch was comfy for the sleeping angel.

     He lost  count of how many years it had been. She hid him at Alpha Centauri. He wasn't sure when Aziraphale would wake. Tomorrow? Maybe another couple centuries. All he knew was it had at most been at least three hundred years of her Angels slumber.

    And he knew he couldn’t take this anymore. And she thought that if and when he did wake up, he would want to be a part of heaven again. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to. 

    Crowley sometimes wished she didn’t have holy water. But the opportunity brought itself.

    He held out a breathy sigh, placing his glasses on the slightly floating table, along with the picture for Aziraphale. He miracled himself a pair of scissors and cut out a few locks of his hair from the root. He rolled up the picture and tied them to the chair. One pro to having extremely long hair. She had to tie these things, as he wasn’t sure how far away these things could float. 

    Suddenly remembering the note, he grabbed it from out of his pocket and tucked it securely in the Angels tailored pocket. 

    In a matter of seconds he was back in his chair. 

    He sat there, staring at the glass for what felt like forever.

    She picked it up with a shaky hand. Took a deep breath and drank. 

    It was agonizing, but she smiled. 

    His pain would be over for this last bit of treachery. 

    What remained was the table, the chair, and the holy water. 

…

“Crowley..dear?...Where are you...?