Ineffable ~ Good Omens One Shots

Goodnight (poetry) [Fluff/Angst w/o/h/e] -Ineffable Husbands-

A/N: thought I'd try my hand at poetry. Can't be that hard. Can it?

Aziraphale,

Angel of the Eastern Gate, knowledgeable-

Angel. Perhaps the smartest. Something unforgettable.

Warm and welcoming. This was Aziraphale.

~♡~

Beside him stands a demon known as Crowley.

A wiley,

No good, fallen from grace, down right unholy-

-friend. He was a friend. A jolly

Demon. This was Crowley.

~♡~

Star crossed lovers right from the start,

Everyone knew they would never break apart.

No matter how many times throughout the centuries they'd claim a broken heart,

By the end of times they'd be calling each other sweetheart.

They'd stand side by side, the most perfect of counterparts.

When the beginning of the end was near, it didn't take much to outsmart,

A raging father. This story was state of the art.

~♡~

It doesn't stop there. Not with more of a story to be told.

There's more that goes between the lovers, a bond over six thousand years old.

It starts with a cold,

Bookshop with the occasional patch of mold.

No books were ever sold.

An angel with a temper, behold.

~♡~

Crowley sits in the back, with a bottle of wine.

"We need to talk, about me and you. Sit down angel, so fine."

Without hesitation Aziraphale agrees, easing into a steady decline

On his couch. Upon the coffee table sat a single clementine.

"Ngh... Just a gift," the demon says. His words were genuine.

That wasn't an odd thing for the serpentine.

Aziraphale looks soft at his lover. His hand reaches out, aching for them to intertwine

Fingers. The warmth of hands. An angel and a demon in love could make the stars fall out of line.

The demon asks, "I know I am a fallen angel, but I still have a heart. Will you forever be mine?"

~♡~

"I will. I love you," Aziraphale replies with a smile resting upon his face.

"Thank you, Aziraphale. Nobody should love an angel who fell from grace."

Crowley fell into the angel's embrace.

"I'm a disgrace!"

~♡~

"Dear, you're nothing of the such.

I know you're upset, but I can't do anything. Nothing much."

With big yellow eyes, Crowley looked up at Aziraphale. He could clutch

To a small hope of something. Anything to feel the light again, such

A soft touch.

~♡~

"Are you sure?" Crowley asked, with defeat in his sob.

Aziraphale sighed, "Perhaps there is one thing that could do the job."

"What is it?" Crowley asked, his stomach felt like a big glob-

-of anxiety. His tears covered his cheeks like a spoiled snob.

His heart was left to throb

As Aziraphale said, "It wouldn't work. It involves holy water, demon blood and a certain thingamabob."

~♡~

"I'll do anything!"

"Alright, perhaps I've done a bit of research. Let me see your wing."

A great pair spread wide, black like the night sky, absolutely void of any coloring.

A tiny bit of blood was took from the wing. It left a small sting-

-but it was nothing

Compared to the feeling

Of what it was like to take a sip of a powerful spell. It was a dangerous thing.

Zing!

Crowley fell to the floor, his body coiling.

"Crowley!" Aziraphale shouted with a hand resting upon the demon's forewing.

The spell didn't work. That was the thing.

~♡~

Perhaps it wasn't done right.

All Crowley wanted to do was feel the light.

It only took a slight

Miscalculation to send Crowley tumbling into infinite night.

After a fortnight,

during the month of January, when someone could get a bad case of frostbite

Aziraphale laid his best friend to rest. The only thing he could see was the area barely upon him, thanks to Crowley's broken headlight.

In front of the Bentley at some time around midnight,

Aziraphale buried his friend underneath the moonlight.

"See you later Crowley. I'm sorry you could not have been forever mine. Goodnight."