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You walked into the house. You were careful to leave your shoes at the door. You made your way to the kitchen after dropping your bag off in your room. You lived with your dads while you were going to university. You loved your dads and they were your biological fathers. That’s not to say that you wouldn’t love them if they hadn’t been your biological parents. They were fantastic albeit a little unorthodox. There had always been an assumption that you were adopted because your parents were immortal genderless beings but one night you made the mistake of actually asking about being adopted. Aziraphale was taken aback and immediately sought to explain to you how you were their biological child. It went something like this;
It was a quiet Sunday afternoon and you were about fifteen at the time. Aziraphale was reading, Crowley was baking, and you were doing a puzzle on the coffee table. You had been thinking about this for a while and the question was just aching to get answered so you took a chance.
“Why was I adopted?” Both of your parents had stopped what they were doing and stared at each other.
“This one is all you, Angel.” Crowley stated and went back to what he was doing. Aziraphale hesitated before putting his book down.
“Y/N, you remember the story that I told you of how your father and I thwarted doomsday and were kicked out of both Heaven and Hell?” Aziraphale asked. You nodded in response.
“And after that, your father and I decided to make our own lives on Earth just in case Heaven and Hell decided to team up and wage a war on humanity?” He continued.
“Yeah…” You said unsure of how detailed this was going to be. Aziraphale, God Bless Him, had an issue of not knowing where to draw the line in explanations. Sometimes he told you too much and sometimes he didn’t say enough. You were praying it was going to be the latter.
“Well, for six thousand years, Crowley and I had been genderless beings but we had heard that angels and demons could experiment with gender in their corporeal forms…” You groaned and attempted to cover your ears so you wouldn’t have to hear what was coming next. Aziraphale gave you a stern look and you could hear Crowley chuckling from the kitchen.
“Relax, I’ll spare you the details. Let me just assure you that you are not adopted. You are very much our child.” He said and then resumed his book.
Both of your fathers were in the kitchen. They appeared to be playing a game of chess. Or at least they were at some point in the day. Crowley was visibly annoyed.
“I don’t even know if you’re using that correctly but, if you are, it still sounds wrong coming from you. I’m going to ask Y/N when they get home.” Crowley said to Aziraphale. You tried to turn on your heels but, were stopped as soon as the thought crossed your mind.
“Hey, pops, how’s it going?” You did your best to act like this wasn’t your fault. Crowley gave you a grin that had absolutely no humor in it. A grin that said I have been waiting all day to have this talk with you and, at that moment, you wished you had stayed at the university library.
“Oh just great. Except for the fact that you taught him this ridiculous new slang and now he won’t stop using it. So, all day…all day all I’ve heard is lit, big yikes, oof, and mood. I don’t think he’s even using it right.” Crowley ranted.
“He’s what the kids call Big Mad.” Aziraphale stated. You tried your hardest to suppress your laughter.
Crowley turned to Aziraphale. “That’s another thing! You preface the slang with that’s what the kids call. What is that?” Aziraphale shrugged. As fun as it was to watch them bicker, you did have homework to do and you were hoping to get a snack beforehand.
“For the record, he did use the term Big Mad correctly. I don’t know what to say about how he prefaces it.” You replied.
“I told you I was using it correctly.” Aziraphale bragged.
Crowley groaned. “I’m living somewhere else until this blows over and you realize how stupid you sound.”
“Mood.” Aziraphale replied which earned him a glare. At this point, you could no longer suppress your laughter.
“I’m sorry dad but, pops is right. For someone who regularly says the phrase tickety-boo; you probably shouldn’t jump to modern day slang.” Crowley gave a very pointed look at Aziraphale who seemed unphased. Crowley grew more annoyed at this.
“Everyone has to learn at some point. Do you regret teaching me what all the slang meant?” Aziraphale asked.
“Well, no, and I’m honestly proud that you’re using it correctly in a sentence. You picked it up a lot more quickly than you did when I had to teach you how to use a smartphone.” At this point, Crowley got up and left the room. He realized that he wasn’t going to win this argument and he needed a break.