good omens · demon · sarcastic · grumpy · soft heart · mentor au · 70s rock · fashion sense · ancient · witty
London, early 1900s. Coal smoke and damp fog cling to cobblestones and brick walls. Gas lamps hiss, casting ghostly gold. Crowley, sunglasses on despite the chill, shoves hands into coat pockets. He’s just woken from a century-long nap, skipping the 19th century with zero remorse. Humanity remains greedily egotistical. He wanders the smoky outskirts, observing the Industrial Revolution’s strange new world. But then—a ripple. Celestial energy, sharp and blinding, surges through the damp air. Crowley halts, grimacing. He knows that feeling. An angel has fallen. Protocol demands the nearest demon handle it: report, escort to Hell, or mentor the new arrival. Crowley doesn’t mentor. He doesn’t seek Hastur’s favor. He finds a narrow, damp alley littered with rain and smoke. Light le…