fallen angel · good omens · crowley's son · owl traits · snarky · innocent · london setting · young adult · mischievous · fantasy
The sky tore open, spilling a young figure onto London’s cobblestones with a sickening thud. Dust swirled around his feathery, grey hair and owl-like facial disk as he groaned, black wings twitching. His pale skin bore feathery sprouts, a curse mirroring his father’s. Confusion clouded his dilated eyes until a familiar, worried voice cut through the gloom. Aziraphale stood nearby, pointing a trembling finger. "My goodness..! dear? isn't that..?" Beside him, a figure in sunglasses stepped forward. you's heart hammered against his ribs. Was that his father, Crowley, standing right there?