#Good Omens fic

[emotional-support-demon-crowley]

Now that Terminus (T) has reached its conclusion, I'll write my official promotion for this little Good Omens astronaut Aziraphale / mission controller Crowley AU.

This is a story of two people who never should have met and yet they find each other against all the odds. Aziraphale never wanted to be an astronaut, but he wasn't really given a choice. He's returning to Earth, long after everyone who ever knew him would be dead. Crowley has spent his life working on the Guardian One space mission, despite the fact that no one else in the industry seems to care about it or its single occupant.

At its heart, this is a love story about these two finding each other and making each other better in the process. It's sweet and full of heart and it was a joy to write.

#good omens #astronaut aziraphale #mission control crowley #ineffable husbands #good omens fanfiction #good omens fic rec #good omens fic #terminus #bravelight #crowley #aziraphale

[forsssnaken]

No One Falls On Purpose (oneshot, 1.3k words)

Crowley is partially blind due to his snake eyes and not exactly helped by the sunglasses, and he uses humor to cope along with Aziraphale through the years -- until he suddenly doesn't anymore.

5+1 humorous hurt/comfort fic with the smallest amount of hurt you could imagine. Happy ending.

Happy pride month!

#snek fic #good omens fic #good omens fic rec #good omens fanfic #good omens #good omens fandom #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale and crowley #crowly x aziraphale #aziracrow #aziraphale x crowley #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #ineffable idiots #god is an ineffable husbands shipper??

[lovelox]

Hello my wonderful good omens family!

I am after some of your personal favorite good omen fanfics, I would like your recommendations. all I ask is that there's a good plot/storyline ☺️

I personally don't like gender swapping, got nothing against it just what I prefer and I don't mind E either as long as it's just not based on the smut

Here are some of my must read fanfics;

Demonology

Old vines

The false and the fair

Don't fall away from me

Telling tall tales

I have got "how do we turn on the light?" On my must read tab but I'm just waiting for more chapters to be released before I start because I can't handle the anticipation 😅

Thank you for reading and recommending fics if you decide to 🥰

Happy pride everyone!! 🏳️‍🌈

#aziraphale good omens #crowley good omens #good omemes #good ineffable omens #good omens #good omens brainrot #anthony j crowley #azicrow #aziraphale #aziraphale loves crowley #ineffable husbands #crowley #aj crowley #ineffable #good omens 2 #good omens aziraphale #good omens crowley #good omens fanfic #good omens fanfic rec #good omens ao3 #gay omens #good omens fandom #good omens fanfiction #good omens fic #good omens season 1 #good omens season 2 #good omens season 3

[klikandtuna]

I spent waaaay too much time working on this illustration for Ch 1 of “Find the Light.” But it was a) fun and b) WORTH IT 🤩

If you’re interested in some slow-burn headmaster/rock star action low on angst but big on FEELINGS, come give it a try! Chapter updates are posted on Tuesdays and Fridays.

#good omens #good omens crowley #good omens aziraphale #crowley #aziraphale #digital art #aziracrow #ao3 fanfic #good omens fandom #good omens fic #good omens au #good omens fanfiction

[feiandart]

The ideas are there: not that there are many, but they overlap. There are brambles, and arms, and flowers; there are thin, indistinguishable lines, there are patches of sharp colours devoid of contours, there are thorns and ropes and arms reaching upwards and, somewhere, perhaps there is also a heart swinging suspended in the air. Unreachable. It drips blood as red and black as ink, golden reverberations of viscous ambrosia. Fingers as dirty and trembling as Anthony's, who blinks and discovers he has let go of the brush and sunk his hands into the black paint. The canvas stares at him, perhaps judging him, certainly waiting. It is so white that for a moment the artist has forgotten that it was he who layered that anonymous colour until it became an impenetrable pantone. Until now, at least. He holds one hand in the paint bucket. The other he lifts it, letting the excess paint drip off. Then, looking at the canvas out of the corner of his eye, he presses his palm on its surface: not in the middle, but at the top of the painting. Then he waits. What, exactly, he does not even know. Perhaps a stroke of genius, a new idea, the desire to realise what had filled his mind, or none of this. Aziraphale looks at him from across the room and says nothing. When Anthony removes his hand from the canvas, the black imprint is dense and precise, dripping rivulets of paint that run down, but do not reach the base of the painting. The paint is too dense for the linen weave to allow it to drip onto the floor, worsening the disaster around the artist.

#good omens #good omens art #ineffable husbands #good omens au #gomens #crowley #good omens crowley #anthony j crowley #long hair crowley #good omens fanart #aziracrow #aziraphale #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfic #good omens fic #good omens human au #sugar

[ineffableclassics]

Five times Aziraphale and Crowley denied being a couple, and one time they didn't. Five times they parted, and one time they didn't.

And six times Crowley tasted pears in Aziraphale's kiss.

Words: 11,928

Status: Complete

Rating: Teen And Up

By @kanna-ophelia

#fanfic #fanfic cover #fanfiction #fanfiction reccomendations #good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfiction recs #good omens fandom #ineffable husbands #teen and up audiences #aziraphale #aziracrow #azicrow #aziraphale x crowley #crowley #good omens fanfiction cover #good omens fic

[on1occasionfork]

Chapter 7: before thou didst request it

CW/TW: Rated M for eventual safety but only out of an abundance of caution. A few moments of minor peril, but this one's pretty much pure fluff.

Summary: Crowley's life is going well. He's got his shop, his friends, and a new flat with a balcony perfect for a few plants. That's when things start to get complicated.

Chapter Excerpt:

From the pocket of his dressing gown, Aziraphale’s phone buzzed, and he drew it out, one eyebrow arching as he saw the text he’d just received from the man standing just a few feet away.

“Go on,” Crowley said, nodding toward the phone. “Tell me what you think.”

Or read from the beginning

@goodomensafterdark

#good omens #good omens fic #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfic #aziracrow #good omens human au #ineffable husbands #aziraphale x crowley #azicrow #good omens au #ineffable spouses

[plumbum-art]

❤️ VALENTIN'S FIC UPDATE ❤️

Wanna be with you everywhere by @moonyinpisces @saglaophonos and @plumbum-art

It’s their first Valentine's Day as that sort of couple, and Aziraphale and Crowley are determined to do as humans do. Five times London finds a way to ruin their perfect night, and the one time a perfect night finds them.

CHAPTER 2 - WOULDN'T IT BE NICE

Summary: Crowley picks up Aziraphale for their human date on the human holiday, to which nothing extraordinary happens.

#good omens #aziraphale x crowley #inaffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #aziracrow #good omens fic #good omens fanart #WBWYE #pb collab

[siobhans-world]

Soooooo, I did some art to celebrate reaching the smutty part of my Good Omens Human AU fic - Telling tall tales.

OMG smut is hard to write when you're much more of a reader than a writer haha

#ineffable husbands #good omens fanart #good omens fanfiction #good omens fic #good omens smut #smut #gomens #aziracrow #crowley #aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #fluff #good omens #ineffable spouses #crowley fanart #aziraphale fanart #go fanart

[tweedfeather]

Papa Aziraphale 💕

These are illustrations for my fic Good Expectations, which is now complete. Mind the rating and tags!

#good omens #good omens art #good omens fic #Aziraphale #ineffable family #ineffable parents #my art #my fic

[ravenmelon]

Angel of the Eastern Gate (and a certain snake)

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #good ineffable omens #ineffable husbands #fanart #illustration #ineffable idiots #artists on tumblr #digital art #go2 fanart #good omens comic #good omens smut #good omens aziraphale #good omens crowley #good #aziraphale fanart #aziraphale magic #aziraphale is adorable #ineffable bureaucracy #ineffable spouses #ineffable lovers #ineffable wives #wives art #good omens fic #good omens fanart #good omens sketch #good omens art #top aziraphale #aziraphale and crowley

[sapphic-bats]

Warlock asks Nanny about it once.

She’s cutting apples for him, just the way he likes, and he’s gazing out of the window at the lush, green gardens that his mother so proudly upholds. Among the waxy leaves and spindly saplings, Brother Francis tends to the flora carefully, though Warlock’s quite sure he’s just taking certain leaves between his finger and his thumb, and studying them closely. But what did Warlock know about gardening?

He notices Nanny looking out those windows, too. Though she always gazes and stares with a deep intent, as if she only cares when she does, and it so happens that she never looks upon the garden empty.

What was that funny thing Nanny and Brother Francis had taught him? The thing that Nanny discouraged, to which Brother Francis promoted quite devoutly?

“Nanny, have you ever been married?”

Warlock knows what marriage is. After all, his parents are married, if you can call it that. They married, once, out of love. But it’s since faded. It’s more traditional, now. Out of convenience and a general apathy to trying again.

Nanny’s quick hand stills, blade edge flat against the cutting board. With her back turned to the young boy, he cannot make out her expression. He never can, what with her poised shades she wears pointedly upon her nose. But she speaks soon again.

“No,” she replies, simply.

Warlock considers this. “Do you ever want to be?”

Nanny, who had taken up the cutting again, pauses once more. She sets the knife against the board and tilts her chin towards Warlock. “Wherever have you learned such personal questions, dear?”

She’s not refusing to answer him. She never has. She just asks in true curiosity, and perhaps a slight avoidance. But Warlock’s eight, now, and he knows how to navigate her tricks.

“Where do you think?”

At that, she pauses, lips pursed with their consistent purple tint. The lipstick she wears, that faintly stains Warlock’s forehead when she kisses him goodnight and tucks him in after a bedtime story: often about a garden, or a bird that chirped too loudly, and was cast down to the ground by the other birds. One who became the kind bird of the grounds, and took in other reject birds that had fallen similarly.

She considers his answer a moment more, satisfied with the obvious influence she’s had on him. She turns back to the apple slices.

“Perhaps,” she answers.

There is quiet for a moment. He doesn’t mind, he’s grown up with Nanny at his side, and has become quite fond of the silence. It is where thoughts are made, she said once.

She finishes cutting the apples, and plates the sweet snack to serve to the boy. “What troubles you, dear? You seem awfully curious, all of the sudden.”

Not that she minds. Nanny never rejects curiosity.

“Nothing’s wrong, Nanny, it’s just—” he pauses, considers his next words and how to place them. “You look at Brother Francis a lot, and—”

Nanny interrupts him after an audible, suspicious gulp. “Who?”

He frowns, eyes boring into the back of her head. “You know Brother Francis.”

She seems quite comically nervous, like she’s pressed a wax-seal act over her true thoughts. “Oh, yes,” she decides, too much breath coming with her words. “The gardener.”

“You like him, Nanny.”

She turns, abruptly. “I most certainly do not!” Her voice comes out a tad shrill, though perhaps it’s just outrage and scandal.

Warlock narrows his eyes, perplexed. “But you look at him all of the time.”

“When has that ever had anything to do with- with love?” She struggles with the word.

The boy shrugs. “Mum and Dad don’t look at each other,” Warlock observes. “But Brother Francis looks for you, too.”

Nanny’s mouth, ready with a retort, or perhaps a counter-argument, flicks towards a different shape. One that might be, he does? Or perhaps Warlock is mistaken. She pauses, lips pursed again, and sets her teeth.

“I’m sure he does, love.”

The plate is set before him, and Warlock soon forgets his questions. He never asks Nanny again.

But he’s reminded of it when her eyes, barely visible in the light, flick towards the window into the dazzling garden.

Years later, Warlock is nearly sixteen, and has since let the thoughts from half his lifetime ago fade. They never die, just sort of… wait. Wait to be plucked again, notes of memory leaping from their tinny strings. Like a harp.

His mother takes him into town. Soho, where he has no interest in seeing, but his mother so desperately needs a new vinyl, a coffee, and though she never says it: a moment to get away from the house, or more specifically, her husband within it.

She agrees to let him wander. She trusts him, for all she hasn’t before. And perhaps, she says, the fresh, un-televised air could do him some good.

He’s only taken two steps out of the coffee shop, where his mother remains to await her tea, before he almost runs smack into two pedestrians, arm in arm. He takes a surprised jump back, tongue set with an angry scolding, when he gets a good look at them from behind.

“Nanny?”

They both freeze in unison, as if they both know the name, and the voice that has conjured it forth once more for the first time in five years. Warlock notices something else.

“Brother Francis?” He prods, shocked. “Izzat you?”

Both of the two now turn, and everything around the three fades into blurring colors and churning noises.

Warlock would be a rotten liar if he had said he hadn’t missed them dearly. He would also be a lousy boy if he didn’t recognize them by the backs of their heads alone, he thinks. Because he would know them anywhere. They’d always done a much better job at raising him than his own parents.

They both look different now. Brother Francis seems to have had dental work done, and has cleaned up quite nicely. Nanny, though, appears to have changed her style completely. Her- his? Their? Who knows. But she still sports a fine pair of shades upon the bridge of her nose.

The pair seem to stutter, splutter with a little awestruck surprise. It’s as if they’d never expected to see him again.

“Oh- Warlock,” Nanny Ashtoreth begins, feigning a cool-headed surprise. “How good to see you.”

She sounds different too. Less of a high strain on her voice, more natural.

But Warlock seems to finally feel a gear shift, and a puzzle piece clicks into place. He glances down to the space between the two, where their arms are linked.

In his dumbfounded state, he feels a smile split the trance.

They both see it at the same time, chins tilting to follow his gaze. When they catch where his eyes are, their stares mingle together in concern. It’s a look that wonders aloud whether or not they should be worried, or blatant.

Warlock looks back up to their faces. “I see now why you two left,” he adds, grinning wider.

He can’t help it. He was right all along.

Warlock remembers something, then. It takes all of his power not to burst out into a triumphant laugh.

“I’m sure he does,” he says, slyly.

Nanny’s eyes, illuminated from behind with daylight, widen. She remembers, too. Of course she does.

And she bites back a twinning smile.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens 2 #ineffable idiots #warlock good omens #crowley good omens #aziraphale good omens #nanny ashtoreth #brother francis #good omens fic #good omens ficlet #fic #ficlet #author #ao3 #good omens fan fiction

[viv-spn]

(Human) Crowley’s eyes in “What We Make of It (Shotgun Wedding)” by @charlottemadison42

#good omens #good omens fanart #fanfic #shotgun wedding #good omens fic #ineffable husbands #crowley #anthony j crowley #crowleys eyes #heterochromia #fanart #david tennant #digital art #art #gomens #neil gaiman #gomens fanfic #gomens fanart #gomens fandom

[foolishlovers]

Where a Canvas Blooms by foolishlovers

It’s an Arrangement. Aziraphale knows this. He knows a lot of things, and others he doesn’t, but the most important things, he knows. He knows that the cheeky redhead in his arms smiles and purrs when he runs his fingers through his hair, knows that Crowley’s hands are rough from working outside, knows the softness of his heart. Aziraphale doesn’t know he’s in love with Crowley until he does. But it’s just an Arrangement. Is it? Part 1 of The Cuddle Arrangement

word count: 3.8k rating: T relevant tags: Human AU, Trans Aziraphale, Trans Crowley, Touch-Starved Aziraphale, Touch-Starved Crowley, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Cuddling & Snuggling, Comfort, Pining art by the wonderful @omens-for-ophelia

#pls scream with me about the beautiful art i love it so much 😭 #also appreciating all the support/reblogs/comments!! 💜 #good omens #good omens fanfic #good omens fanfiction #good omens fic #good omens human au #aziracrow #aziracrow fic #ineffable husbands #trans crowley #trans aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #foolish writes #where a canvas blooms #the cuddle arrangement #cuddle au

[klikandtuna]

Making an effort to ✨prettify✨ my WIP. This is an illustration that will be embedded in Chapter 1!

I’ve posted Chapter 8 of “Find the Light” (rated E, light on angst, heavy on biiiig feelings), and I know it can be difficult to take a chance on a WIP, but I’m currently writing Chapter 13 and am committed to a Tuesday/Friday update schedule right through to the end. Come give it a try!

(Huge thanks, as always, to my faithful beta-reader @suzypfonne, who also helped enormously with the design of this poster 💛)

#good omens #good omens crowley #good omens aziraphale #crowley #aziraphale #digital art #aziracrow #fanart #good omens fanart #ao3 fanfic #good omens fandom #good omens fic #good omens au #good omens art #good omens fanfiction #ao3fic #ao3 link

[vavoom-sorted-art]

Sleight Of Hand - Chapter 1: The Pledge

@moonyinpisces and I proudly present Chapter 1 of “Sleight Of Hand”: The Pledge!

Read on Ao3 (with extra Comic pages!)

Early release of comic pages as well as sketches and uncensored Versions on my Patreon.

---

“It’s our last night on Earth,” Crowley says, voice wrung together in chapped, rusted parts. “Six thousand years of this. Of never– of not getting to– *eurgh!”* Uncaring of the styling, Crowley runs frantic hands through his hair, mussing it up in tight, torturous fists. “Six thousand years. And it’s a bloody *photograph* that does us in.” 

His eyes are golden, molten in the warm, ambient light. The pulse at his long, taut neck is fluttering like a trapped bird, the skin there thin, delicate. “Hm,” Aziraphale says distractedly, without thinking too much of it. “I’d always thought it would’ve been what we’d got up to at Job’s.”

Crowley zeroes in on Aziraphale, at that point. All of this has been musings to himself, of attacks towards nobody in particular. Perhaps God. Most likely God. But now he’s not looking at God, and he’s looking at Aziraphale instead. It sets Aziraphale on edge, prickles the angelic sense at the back of his neck. It quickens his pulse, settles the heat of his body decidedly southward. But more than that, perhaps most of all; it makes Aziraphale be as reminded of Crowley’s human body as he is of his own, at this exact moment. 

The demon takes a step forward. Aziraphale, a stuttered step back. His fingers are curled into the top of his opposite sleeve, tips brushing the edge of the polaroid he’d nearly grabbed.

“Calm down, Crowley,” he says waveringly. 

“Calm *down?*” Crowley repeats quietly, dangerously. He’s looking Aziraphale in the eye, now. He’s looking nowhere else. 

Another step. Forward, back. Aziraphale licks his lips. 

“It’s all going to be alright, my dear boy,” he tries. He clears his throat, shifts his fingers further into his sleeve. “You see–”

He’s cut off. Quick as a flash, Crowley’s gripping him around the shoulders, shoves him back so his arse is pressed to the lip of the vanity, the lit-up mirror alighting him from behind. Aziraphale’s arms draw up around the demon’s shoulders in surprise. There’s nowhere else to go, no more steps to take. The look in Crowley’s eye speaks of a hunger all-too-familiar to Aziraphale. Reminiscent of meat, of basements, of languishing drunkenly at the end of another man’s Earth. Behind Crowley’s head, Aziraphale has the photograph clenched in one hand. 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale whispers. 

“Don’t–” Crowley’s expression is fierce, desperate. “Don’t say *anything–*” 

Aziraphale opens his mouth to say something else.

*“Angel.”* Crowley makes a desperate sort of sound, and then their lips are pressed together, and Aziraphale freezes altogether. 

---

Keep reading

#ineffable smut war #good omens #good omens fanart #crowley #aziraphale #good omens 2 #art #ineffable husbands #goodomens #good omens fic #good omens art #vavoom smut war #vavoomcomic #Sleight of Hand #vavoomart