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crowleyanthonys · 2 years

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Content creator 2021 wrapped tag game

Cut this into what works for you. Want to do only one instead of five? Do it. Tag 2 people? Do it. This game is not your mum or the Apple App store to tell you what to do. But there are a couple of rules:

RULE 1: Review your creations over 2021. Tag some gifmakers/creators, friends and strangers to get them to do the same.

RULE 2: Link to the content, commentary optional.

5 (or more!) creations from others that made you smash the reblog button hard, closely followed by your ‘insp’ tag or ‘fave tag’. Link to sets that started conversations, outstanding composition, coloring, etc.

4 creations of which you’re proud. These are goals you scored. Nothing to do with notes.

3 creations others loved. Include the one that got most notes, great comments, or the classic ‘how dare you!’

2 creations that stretched you as a creator: style, coloring, blending, text, etc. include the one that should have got more notes.

1 creation of yours that you find most aesthetically pleasing to the eye and self AND 1 creation that broke and (maybe remade you) as a creator – we all have that one.

0 the creation that never was because nothing was working that day.

No need to be tagged to do this. Share what you all liked and made this year!!!

Overall comment on your creativity year 2021 ->

I saw so many others participating in this, so I decided to do the same!

5 (or more!) creations from others that made you smash the reblog button

@ghiblisdaily okay tagging your main so that you see this but the way that you color animation on your @animeshojo blog??? is so pretty! I love this Kimi no na wa Your Name gifset especially! I find animation so hard to color, but the gifset is so crisp, the colors are so vibrant, and you make the sunlight shine even brighter??? Gorgeous, my dear Annie!!! 😍

@maria7potter I’m so obsessed with your blog??? Good Omens and Broadway? 😍 I think you make some of the prettiest gifsets in the gomens fandom, tbh! I absolutely love your an angel that looks very much in love with a demon gifset, not only for making me want to cry, but also for how you colored it? Those scenes you chose are some of the hardest scenes to color, imo, but the whole gifset looks so beautiful!! Amazing work! 👏 (also I want to shout out your gomens + great comet set for the sole reason that it made me scream when I saw it--great comet is my favorite musical and combining my two favorite things in one post gave me a moment 😭 )

@bidoctor I have always admired your gifs, Jelena, and remember going through your own wwditsedits tag when I first got into the show! I especially love your Nadja + favorite moments pt 1 post! I hope to start making gifs of this show at some point, but am sort of intimidated by how darkly lit all of the sets are lol but this gifset in particular is so bright and rich in color, I’m really impressed! 👏 Also, I want to shout out your nature series, which contains 30 gorgeous posts!!! You have always had a talent with vibrant color in your content ❤

@meliorn I have admired your work for such a long time, and it was really hard to choose just one gifset to shout out, but your GTKM Meme: Family Dynamics: The Rose Family gifset is just perfect! 😍👏 This set is a wonderful summary of the show and the Roses’ growth of not just a family, but as characters too, and I absolutely love the quotes that you chose! 🥺 I cannot imagine how long this took you to make, but it is always impresses me every time I see it! The colors are outstanding as well! (I also really love your Crowley + colours series, btw!)

@lady-arryn I remember being so stunned when I first saw your Austen but with wlw gifset! I’m still obsessed with this set almost a year later 😍 The soft colors, the layering, the fonts!!! It’s beautiful and romantic! 🥰 We cannot have enough wlw content in the Austen fandom, so thank you for contributing more to our favorite ships that don’t always receive content or recognition!!

4 creations of which you’re proud.

Anathema + red & purple--probably my favorite gifset that I created this year, tbh! I wanted to create something fall/Halloween inspired, and I think I did a pretty good job of creating that aesthetic with the colors? Compared to another Anathema gifset from earlier in the year, I think I definitely developed a better handle for manipulating colors. I just love the vibrancy of the colors that I was able to achieve in this gifset!

Aziraphale + heart eyes-- Okay, I know that it’s a simple looking gifset, but I did something small with it that I think is neat lol I changed the color of the trees behind Aziraphale from green to red to match the red that is featured in the background in Crowley’s gif. Every time I look at this gifset I am so proud of myself??? Such a small change made a huge difference in my opinion. I feel like it gives the gifset a more consistent look. Also, you know, it symbolizes that they’re in love. 😏

the ineffable husbands + 😍 series, part 2 because this scene??? I can never color for some reason??? Arguably the most famous scene from s1 and I can never color it properly lol Also whenever I gif this scene, I can never color it the same way as I did the previous time. So here, I went a different route--purple. And it looks okay!! I think now that I’ve grown a lot more in terms of coloring, I see other things I could have differently, but I’m still really proud of how this gifset turned out, especially for a scene that has always been challenging for me to color!

Emma + pink--Similar to the Anathema gifset mentioned above, I’m just very proud of how I’ve stretched my abilities in terms of coloring this year! This is a drastic improvement from this Emma gifset I made earlier in the year (which I’ll talk about in a second), and I’m so proud of how rich the colors look!

3 creations others loved.

Aziraphale + heart eyes--although it’s a simple gifset, I’m glad people really enjoy this one! As I mentioned above, I’m proud of the slight coloring trick I added here, and who doesn’t love this moment between A/C anyway? 🥰

Future husband meme, Crowley version--my meme sets are always super popular, so I’m not surprised that this one gained so many notes in comparison to other sets that I have spent much more time on lol It’s okay though, I love making meme gifsets, I enjoy making people laugh!

Future husband meme, Aziraphale version--same comment as above (although imo, this set is funnier than the Crowley version lol)

2 creations that stretched you as a creator:

knighthouse + colors--this was not the first time I had played around with colors in a gifset, but this was probably my first ambitious gifset with manipulating colors to this extent. I think I have definitely learned a lot from creating this set, and it’s really interesting to compare this post to my most recent Emma gifset that I mentioned earlier. Despite having to take a huge break once I started grad school this fall (and just starting to make gifs again this month), I am pretty pleased with how much I’ve grown this year in terms of coloring/manipulating color!

the ineffable husbands + 😍 series, part one in particular because I have always had difficulty gifing various scenes and making the coloring look consistent lol I’m so used to gifing one particular moment/scenes/series of facial expressions and that is it. Dealing with multiple scenes that may have different lighting and color schemes is something I’m still learning. I’m still not 100% pleased with the coloring in this set, tbh, but, I’ll keep working at it!

1 creation of yours that you find most aesthetically pleasing

I already talked about it, but the Anathema + red and purple gifset!

1 creation that broke and (maybe remade you) as a creator

Hmm, not sure how to answer this one! Not sure if any creation really “broke” me this time (a few did in 2020, I think, though). As you can tell, experimenting with manipulating color was the theme for my creations this year. I think the my two posts that got me the most excited to continue exploring that within the GO fandom were my Anathema + pink and purple gifset and my Crowley + pink gifset? I still get really sweet comments/tags on these posts, and it’s been almost a year since I posted the Crowley gifset!

0 the creation that never was because nothing was working that day.

I had a few other ineffable husbands memes planned out, as well as an angsty parallel post planned, but never had time due to grad school. I won’t give much away in case I find the time later, so we’ll see!

Overall comment on your creativity year 2021 ->

Looking back on 2021, I made quite a few gifsets, but probably not as much as I had in previous years due to school, which makes me sad. I do feel a bit disconnected from the fandom at times, but this first semester made me realize that I need to create a better work/life balance for myself, so maybe I’ll do a better job at creating time for hobbies starting this upcoming semester.

Tagging (but only if you want to, of course!): @ghiblisdaily @maria7potter @bidoctor @meliorn @lady-arryn and anyone else who would like to participate!

#text #creator meme #creator tag meme #ghiblisdaily #maria7potter #bidoctor #meliorn #lady-arryn

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dialux · 3 years

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Fic Writer Asks

Oooof tagged by four excellent writers- @ferrame, @skyeventide, @stormwarnings, and @tol-himling- so do check ALL of them out when you get a free mo (which I don’t have enough of!!!! Sadly!!!). Still, yk, it’s Friday, I’m home from my first week of work, and there isn’t anything really pressing to do apart from another 15k on that last TRSB fic which I’ve been procrastinating for too long..........

Here we go!

how many works do you have on AO3?

what’s your total AO3 word count?

1035292, which means I crossed a million words this year! I hadn’t realized that lmao

how many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Hell, I’ve written for too many. Top three are definitely ASOIAF, Tolkien and HP, but there are a couple others sprinkled through like... Fleabag (Yuletide fic), King Arthur: Legend of the Sword (Yuletide), Jodhaa Akbar (Yuletide), Padmaavat (me, losing my fucking mind over Mehrunissa in that movie), and... Good Omens? The Old Guard, too, for a while there. Oh, and let’s not forget the MCU that dragged me to AO3 in the first place

what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

I had no idea before I went looking, but-

1. if you try to break me, you will bleed - the fic that will haunt me to the day I DIE

2. a tempest, a cyclone, a goddamned hurricane - that Sansa can see ghosts story

3. made weak by time and fate, but strong in will - the fic where James and Lily Potter live and defeat Voldemort through the power of lightning, rings and friendship

4. one burning candle, one wind-whipped flame - TOG fic!! I enjoyed this one, but still cannot believe it has more kudos than that Booker character study

5. we do not surrender - second in the time travel series, probably just because of sheer exposure lmao

do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I try to! Sometimes it’s late (....very late) but usually I do get to all of them. Unless I have no idea of what to say, at which point I mark it as read just so I can get that sweet, sweet “0″ in my ao3 inbox

what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Enh, I don’t like sad endings, so... let’s just say none of them

do you write crossovers? if so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

One crossover. ONE. The one where Sansa lands in Middle-Earth and mistakes Boromir for her dad, kicks ass, takes names, drags Arwen out of Rivendell. The whole shebang

have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yes! Sometimes it’s funny, sometimes it isn’t, but it’s not like I wasn’t blooded in HP fandom circa early 2000s and that was a vicious set of reviewers on ff.net, so I don’t, like, mind. Keeps my ego from getting too big.

do you write smut? if so what kind?

Not often, and certainly not well, but everything that has been written has been.... very much more evocative than descriptive. Let’s put it that way.

have you ever had a fic stolen?

One GO fic that existed on a locked community in LJ- I think, like, 10 people had access to fic once it went private or something- I don’t remember the correct nomenclature- but I did see something being recced when the first season came out that just made me go “hm” for a second lol. NOT that it matters, or that I care- I certainly am happy to have all my stories from those dark times disassociated from my name- but it is an interesting thing to happen

have you ever had a fic translated?

Four- all into Russian, by a very, very sweet person that I don’t think is on tumblr at all, or I’d link them!

have you ever co-written a fic before?

One, recently, with @nienna324. It was definitely a very fun- and different experience- and one that made me grow as an author <33

what’s your all time favorite ship?

Lmao I’m more of a sibling / parental relationship author, with the attention span of a magpie. All time is literally until I see the next shiny thing!

what’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

That GODDAMN JonxSansaxSatin AU. It has everything done for it, all the plot, it’s gorgeous, but I’ve got no ideas for the dialogue and probably never will because I managed to write myself into a corner

what are your writing strengths?

Probably turns of phrase. Some think it’s purple prose, probably, but I call it poetry and turn my nose up at their snobbishness XD

what are your writing weaknesses?

Expository writing sucks ASS like you’d never believe

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Fun? esp if you’re willing to put in that effort

what was the first fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter- no, I refuse to be embarrassed XD

what’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Right now? Got to be the Caranthir post-rebirth character study. There’s another trsb fic with Aredhel that I’m SUPER proud of, but it’s not published yet- which reminds me that I need to get back to that!!!

Haven’t been on here in a while and have zero idea of who’s been tagged/finished this already, but do it if you haven’t already!

#my writing #thank you to all of you who tagged me you're very very sweet and i had a fun time answering these

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angelofrainfrogs · 3 years

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Blush

Fandoms: Good Omens

Description: It's difficult to put make-up on a ticklish angel, but Crowley is determined to get Aziraphale dolled up the human way before their date.

Rating: G

Genre: Fluff

Read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29137629/chapters/71532234

Note: This story was written for the Ineffable Wives Femslash February 2021 event. A masterlist of all my fics posted to tumblr for this event can be found here (they’re also contained in a multi-chapter collection in the Ao3 link above).

“Angel, if you don’t stop moving around, this is never going to get done.”

“I’m sorry, my dear, it’s just—ha ha! —I didn’t realize it would tickle so much—oh!” Aziraphale let out a breathless laugh as Crowley stood up, the demon’s eyebrow raised in mock annoyance.

“I’m just doing your make-up; it’s not supposed to tickle.”

“W-Well… it does for me.” The angel pursed her lips and closed her eyes, shifting into a more upright position. “Anyway, please disregard my earlier distraction; I’ll try not to move so much. If we don’t finish up soon, I’m afraid we’ll miss our dinner reservation.”

“You know I can just stop time if we’re running late, right?” Crowley asked, but Aziraphale merely wrinkled her nose in response. The demon rolled her eyes with a loving sigh and picked up another brush and a palate of blush. She leaned forward, brush in hand, then paused.

The angel’s face was pleasantly flushed from her earlier laughter and mild embarrassment, a light pink tint to her cheeks that only served to accentuate her features. She looked absolutely breathtaking, and Crowley’s mind short-circuited.

“…My love?” Aziraphale asked after a moment, cracking one eye open to see why she hadn’t yet felt another swathe of makeup. Crowley was leaning forward, mouth slightly parted, staring at her with the most love-struck expression the angel had ever seen. “W-What is it, Crowley?”

“You’re… you’re so gorgeous,” Crowley managed to choke out. “I don’t… How did I get so lucky?”

Aziraphale’s blush deepened, and this time she was the one unable to find any words. Instead, she pulled her love into a sweet kiss, dinner plans temporarily forgotten.

The reservations would miraculously still be there a few hours later, anyway.

#ineffable wives #ineffable-wives-central #ineffable femslash february #good omens #crowley #Aziraphale #crowley/aziraphale #fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #blush #phantomhivemast3r

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iwrestlenow · 3 years

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Many More To Die

TITLE: Many More To Die

FANDOM: Sanders Sides (Necromancer AU)

SUMMARY: For over a thousand years, necromancy has been forbidden in the Kingdoms, the Necromata--its practitioners--feared, reviled, and punished for a power they never asked to wield. Those Necromata who are not killed in the cradle are taken from their families, stripped of their Name--the core of identity and memory--and imprisoned for the rest of their lives.

Logan was twelve when he entered the palace dungeons. Prince Roman was fourteen when he witnessed the young necromancer being brutalized, imprisoned, and left to suffer.

Roman only wanted to offer the other boy comfort, and perhaps a scrap of dignity. He didn't realize his kindness would follow both of them into adulthood--or that Logan would one day become the only person in all the realms that Roman would be able to trust with his life, his heart, and his very soul.

SHIPS: Logince (Logan/Roman), future Moceit (Patton/Janus) and Dukexiety (Remus/Virgil)

WARNINGS: lots of death because necromancy, slash, and more to come as I figure it out ‘cause it’s late and I’m tired. Also, no betas, we die like men.

NOTES: This is based on the gorgeous piece of art by @gretacticdraws that can be found here. I ended up writing a ficlet for it, and then my brain got swallowed up. Breathe at me wrong, and I’ll write more...hell, who am I kidding? I’ll write more anyway because this? Is self indulgent drivel. XD

Also located at AO3 over here.

1023, A.A.

Necromata.

Sitting in the middle of his cell, twelve year old Logan...Logan choked on tears as his shoulder screamed, his bones ached, and the flickering lights of his cell let his imagination run wild with all manner of monsters and omens of doom lurking within every shadow.

He knew he was lucky—many necromancers were caught in the cradle and killed. Very few survived as long as he had. He could be grateful to his family for that much, that he'd lived long enough to escape a death sentence.

He did have a family. He knew that much—remembered that much. Everything else, they had taken before throwing him into his cell. The prison mage's hand was still a ghost of cold fire against his forehead, worms of icy coal burning through his brain to wipe out every trace of the things that would make him what he was, allow him to be more safely contained.

The name spoken with fear and loathing was all that he had left.

Necromata. The legions of the Animator...the necromancers.

“Psst!”

The hiss echoed off the stone in the corridor, made his heart leap into his chest as he looked around for the source of it.

“Psst! Over here!”

Logan tried to scramble back from the door of his cell, and screamed when he forgot about his dislocated shoulder, collapsing as it gave way under his weight.

“No, don't—please, it's okay. I don't want to hurt you.”

Blinking, Logan squinted into the low light beyond the torches that barely lit his new home. Something bright green flickered there, an outline visible that was vaguely person-shaped.

“Who...who are you?” he asked, curling his injured arm as close to his body as he could so he wouldn't forget again as he got to his feet.

“I...I'm not supposed to say.”

Logan shuffled a little closer to the bars of his cell. “Then how do I know you don't want to hurt me?”

“The prison mage took your Name—you won't understand if I tell you. Just...”

The person-shape on the other side of the bars moved forward, an arm protruding through to set a bowl on the dirt floor of Logan's cell. Inside there was water, and sitting across the rim was a heavy piece of leather.

“I saw what the guard did when you came in. Your shoulder...it happened to me once when I snuck out to hunt for the Lazari.”

“The Lazari don't exist.” Logan replied, reaching up with his good hand to try and wipe some of the tears and snot off his face. “They're a fairy tale, like the Animata.”

“How do you know?”

Logan opened his mouth...then closed it after long moments.

“I...I don't know.” he admitted. “I must have lost it when the prison mage took my Name.”

“Then you could be wrong.” the person-shape insisted, those emerald flecks in the near shadow sparkling with determination. “I'll find a Lazari one day. Just you wait.”

“What does that have to do with my dislocated shoulder?”

“Oh! Sorry—uhm, I did it once. When I snuck out, I fell from a tree and mine popped out. My brother showed me how to use the bars on our window to pop it back in! I threw up, though—and he made me bite a belt so I wouldn't scream.”

The hand appeared between the bars again, nudging the bowl and the leather strap forward a little further.

“I can tell you how to do it.”

Logan shuffled forward a couple more steps, then shifted to kneel in front of the bowl of water.

“I...might know.” He replied, staring at the bowl for a long moment before he peered back into the dark, into the green spark that was his benefactor's eyes. “Thank you.”

The person-shape said nothing for a long moment...

“Berry.”

“What?”

“Berry! The guards called you Logan, right? They took your Name—maybe Berry can be your new one.”

Before Logan could comment, the person-shape grew less distinct, and the flicker of green was gone with the clatter of footsteps scurrying away into the dark.

It was a silly idea—a Name taken could not be restored so easily. Still, the word rattled around in his head along with the one that made his bones ache again.

Necromata. Berry. Necromata. Berry. Berry.

Logan Berry.

Something stirred in the middle of Logan's mind, in his marrow—in the place that magic had scoured out and rubbed raw within the pathways of his brain. Something stirred, settled...

Something slid into place, and all of a sudden the shadows were far less frightening.

Popping his shoulder back into the socket hurt far more than dislocating it had—and yet while he'd sobbed his soul out after being injured, after being robbed of all that made him a person, he shed not a single tear as he put the leather between his teeth, wrenched his joint back into place, and used the fresh water to clean up after he'd emptied his stomach into the corner of his cell.

He even managed to sleep on his pallet of straw, and dreamed of green embers in the dark, drifting into the shadows in his cell and transforming every monster into a friend.

**********

1033, A.A.

“I had the dream again.”

“A kinky one?”

“Sweet leaping gods, Remus!”

The high, strident cackle of his twin brother echoed through Prince Roman's bedchamber, making him wonder yet again why he thought he could talk to the crazy idiot about anything remotely meaningful. Yes, Remus was trustworthy—he gave Roman all manner of hell for the secrets he shared, but had suffered his fair share of indignities to keep his mouth shut—but sometimes he wondered if it was worth the teasing and the laughter to have such a steadfast confidant.

Remus had secrets of his own, after all—the numerous Anima that shared his bed, for one. Like Roman, Remus was fascinated by the Necromata, the true necromancers that all citizens of the Kingdoms were taught to hate and fear. The Anima were little more than pretenders, mages of other disciplines that toyed with the death magic that had been outlawed for over a thousand years.

Still, they had a lot to teach—and made good company, from the way Remus spoke of his dalliances.

“Oh, I'm just yanking your chain, big brother!” Remus assured him, crossing over to drape himself over Roman's back, chin settling on Roman's shoulder to read what his twin was writing as he hunched over his desk. “C'mon now—tell me about the dream, and I'll tell you about the Necromata I fucked last night.”

Roman straightened abruptly at that, unceremoniously sending Remus sprawling to the floor. Turning his chair, he gaped down at his brother and pointed an accusing finger at him.

“You did not sleep with a real necromancer, you lying sack of horse dung!” he hissed. “Why would you even say that in the palace of all places?!?”

“Because the sex was unbelievably good?” Remus offered, shrugging from his place on the floor, flat on his back. “Believe me, Ro Bro, a guy that can't actually feel human contact can keep it up for a nice, long, slow roll in the hay. It's pretty remarkable!”

Roman just huffed, standing from his seat—and promptly sinking to the floor to sprawl out right beside Remus.

“You're lying.” he said simply.

Remus was quiet a long time...then sighed.

“Of course I am. He was just another Animata.”

“Anima. The Animata are a myth, like the Lazari.”

“Since when did you turn into such a brainiac, Roro? We both know I've always been the smart one.”

Roman rolled his eyes with a grin, stretching his leg to kick Remus's ankle—but the truth of the matter was, Remus was right. Between the pair of them, Remus was smarter by leaps and bounds. He was studying the collegiate sciences when he was seventeen, and began his magic training before he'd even reached puberty. The fact that the only part of the sciences he enjoyed were anatomy and mortuary study were entirely besides the point, as was the fact that Remus wasn't actually capable of using magic at all.

He was, as their father lovingly put it, a rogue genius: in possession of an intellect so massive that the rules couldn't restrain him. He either knew too well how to circumnavigate them, or he simply didn't care enough to bother and did what he wanted—what he thought was right, no matter the consequence.

Roman might have been the elder of the twins—by one hour, eleven o'clock of one night where Remus came at midnight the next morning—but he aspired, every single day, to be the maverick that Remus was. He simply lacked the brains...and the courage.

Which was why today, it was Roman their father would be naming as his successor, and not Remus. Roman would be king, would rule by the law and the will of the gods, and Remus would...get to be Remus for the rest of his life, a crown prince without a care in the world.

“Tell me about the dream, Roro.”

Remus's voice was gentle this time, his fingers walking their way along Roman's arm until he could find his hand and weave it into his own.

Roman sighed, staring up at the mural on the ceiling of his bedchamber—a beautifully wrought depiction of the Fall of Death, the final battle between the Animator, the first of the Necromata, and their ancestor, King Thomas Andres, that had saved the Kingdoms over a thousand years ago.

“He was in it.”

“The boy from the dungeons?”

Roman nodded. He could feel Remus watching him...

Just like he could feel the boy from the dungeons watching him every time he had the dream... ********** “He was here again.”

“Jumpin' Jiminy, Lo—are you sure?”

Logan nodded, mostly to himself. Patton couldn't see him, not from the bathtub behind the partition that separated it from the rest of the room, but it hardly mattered—after eight years as cell mates, the two of them had become as close as brothers, as close as twins according to some of the guards that had met the king's identical twin sons.

They had grown so naturally into the relationship, it made Logan wonder sometimes if he'd had a brother before his Name had been taken.

Well...it made him wonder in the early days, at any rate. Logan had stopped wondering many years ago.

Suffice to say, Patton didn't need to see him nod to know that Logan had.

“Well? What'd he do?”

Logan let his mind wander back to the night before—the dream space that he so often occupied, the boy that had come to him in the dark ten years before with a bowl of water, a leather strap, and a name.

The boy he'd come to think of as the Green Man, with those eyes that the dark couldn't fully hide.

“The same thing he always does.” Logan managed to reply, setting down the pen he'd been using in favor of resting his elbows on his desk and steepling his fingers to press against his lips. Among those Necromata imprisoned in the palace dungeons, Logan was quite fortunate: he was allowed a cell mate, access to books and writing implements, even a small window sill garden consisting of plants that couldn't be used for magical purposes.

He was very lucky. Ten years of good behavior had given him an incredible amount of leeway and granted him creature comforts like access to regular bathing privileges. The guards even referred to him by his chosen name.

He was, for all intents and purposes, treated like he was truly human. A prisoner, always, but one the guards and prison mages shared a basic blood connection to, unlike the other Necromata.

“...Lo?...Logan!”

Shaking himself, Logan cleared his throat and tried to beat back the heat he could feel rising in his cheeks, having been caught wool gathering.

“Apologies, I didn't catch that.” he called over his shoulder.

“I said, did he say anything this time?”

Logan shook his head, knowing once again that his actions would be understood rather than seen. Patton asked the same thing every time Logan mentioned the visits, and every time it was the same.

If Patton really knew the content of the Green Man's visitations...

Pressing his fingertips to his mouth again, Logan shut his eyes and let himself remember.

The visits were always in a dream space—for years, before the visitations became more regular, Logan had assumed the Green Man was a guard's son, or the child of some member of the palace staff. Later, when the Green Man came to Logan in his sleep, he figured he was the son of a prison or court mage—who else could manage to dream walk in the mind of even a crippled necromancer like him?

Then again...Logan was different from many prisoners like himself.

In the dream, Logan still cannot see his face. Like those ephemeral dreams from his first few nights in the dungeons, he's little more than shadows with burning points of light the color of fresh shoots just springing from the soil. Over the years, he's become more distinct, but still nothing Logan can give any real definition.

He is a man made of darkness, his eyes reflecting what spark of magic lives within him. They never speak to each other—Logan never dares, secretly apprehensive that disturbing the quiet will somehow end this irregular communion they share.

All the Green Man does is extend a hand, the only part of him Logan can truly see. What was once small and slim fingered has changed over the years into a large hand, broad but lean, tendons standing out below each knuckle and tanned by exposure to the sun. Every time, he reaches out, and every time, Logan takes his hand and just...holds on.

In the dream space, Logan can feel his touch. It's likely a projection, something imagined, but there's strength and warmth in that hand—the pressure of fingers meshing with his own, the heat of palm sealed to palm. There's something under the skin, itchy and trembling, and it makes Logan want to pull away because it's just too much...

The Green Man never lets him. Gradually, the feeling passes, and Logan clings until the feeling returns, crashing over him and sliding back in waves beating the shore of his nervous system.

Logan is always the first to let go. The Green Man makes sure of it—and then he leaves.

“Are you okay, kiddo?”

Logan looked up sharply, twisting to see Patton over his shoulder. His mop of tawny curls is swept back from his face, still dark and wet from his bath, the chill of the cell raising gooseflesh on his bare torso.

He has one hand holding the towel around his waist, and the other resting on Logan's shoulder.

The pressure is barely there, that buzzing awareness of contact easily missed if not expected.

Patton hastily lifts his hand, face screwed up in silent apology. Logan dislikes physical contact, even if he cannot feel it—just like any of the Necromata, so divorced from the living, human populous that they cannot even connect to them through touch.

“Didn't mean to spook you, Lo. Just...you're real quiet. Usually, you got more to say after a visit from You Know Who.”

Logan nodded, then made a point of reaching out to squeeze Patton's hand briefly before letting it go just as quickly.

“Apologies. I suppose I'm just...distracted by today.”

“Yeah—hey, you think the prince'll come down here?” Patton asked hopefully, drawing back to go and find some clothes. “I mean, if he's gonna learn to be king after the ceremony...”

Logan let Patton continue to chatter about the potential for this new ruler to somehow see their plight, somehow be their salvation. He let the words, the hope, wash over him without making contact.

Patton could have hope, because he had no Name. No history, no memory, no past and therefore no future. He was a blank slate, for all intents and purposes, unable to access the power of the Necromata with no life of his own to bind it to.

Unlike Logan. Logan, who no longer wondered if he'd had a brother in his family.

Logan, who could share a dream space, something only mages were capable of.

Logan, who had been given a new name by his benefactor so many years ago, a name that others used daily.

Logan Berry, who even now could feel the essence of every rat behind the dungeon walls, every guard on patrol, every prisoner languishing beneath the lowest floors of the palace...and every noble, every royal, every peasant up above.

Logan Berry, who could not remember his family, but could remember that he once had a brother.

Because, despite the fact that a Name taken could not be restored so easily, Logan had taken a name freely given and made it his own.

A Name, freely given. A life, restored.

Logan could not have hope, because he had the power of the Necromata at his fingertips—and it was only a matter of time before good behavior would no longer be enough to earn him the leeway to stay alive.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #roman sanders #logince #ts logic #ts creativity #thomas sanders #fanfic #ts fanfic #necromancer au #this is all the artist's fault i'm just a hapless writer that stumbled across it #never trust me with nice things #my name is liz and i swear to god i will fic again

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fanfic-corner · 4 years

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A-Spec Across Fandoms

23/10/20 - I know I have already done an a-spec post for Destiel fics, but it is asexual awareness week next week, so I thought I’d read a load of fics with ace characters from a few different shows I like! We have some Supernatural, some Doctor Who, some Sherlock, and a couple from Good Omens. Happy ace week!

Supernatural

broken when I’m lonesome by SailorChibi on AO3. (7,015 words).

Tags: Asexual Castiel, Demisexual Dean, Panromantic Castiel, Biromantic Dean, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, PTSD, Dean Has Self-Esteem Issues, Dean Has a Sexuality Crisis, Angst, Fluff, Touch-Starved, Comfort, Platonic Cuddling, Castiel is Not Oblivious, comments that could be taken as ace-phobic.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: After being saved from hell, Dean's old methods of coping aren't working anymore: he's not sexually attracted to anyone, and he's not interested in sex no matter how many times he climbs into bed with hot, naked women. Sam is convinced that his brother is just depressed, but Dean knows this goes deeper than that. He still craves the intimacy that can make him feel safe. Fortunately, Castiel is there to both understand and provide.

Notes: This fic really hit home. I’m not sure if it is because almost every person I have ever talked to has had some form of this conversation, but it was still cute.

La Vie A Plus by K_K_TiBal on AO3. (6,260 words).

Tags: Punk Castiel, Asexual Castiel, College/Uni AU, Roommates, oh my god they were roommates, College Student Dean, College Student Castiel, Pining, First Kiss, Misunderstandings, Art Student Castiel, Love Confessions, Gabriel is a Little Shit, Tattooed Castiel.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: Dean Winchester is hopelessly, head-over-heels in love with his best friend and roommate, Castiel. Castiel - with his blue hair, and his tattoos, and his artwork, and his perfect everything. Dean never stood a chance, really. It only sucks because, as far as Dean can tell, Castiel is definitely not interested. But love, much like art, has a way of being unpredictable. Even if you think you know where you're going with it.

Notes: The angst is strong in this one! Again, I feel like many aces have had this conversation or that fear that people (allos, especially) may not want to be with them.

Exposed to What You Hide by SailorChibi on AO3. (1,890 words).

Tags: Alternate Universe - Hunters, Creature Castiel, Procubus Cas, Asexual Castiel, Established Relationship, Hidden Relationship, Assisted Suicide, Cuddling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: "We think Cas is a procubus," Sam blurted out. Then he winced and yelped when Charlie kicked him under the table. "Ow!" "Smooth, Sam," Charlie snapped. Dean looked back and forth between them, realizing that they were both 100% serious. "A procubus." "Basically it's the sexless version of an incubus or a succubus," Charlie explained before Sam could. "It's... it's a demon that kills people by sleeping with them." She was chewing on her thumbnail now, eyes big and apologetic. Sam had done one better pasting on a truly epic kicked puppy expression of apology. "You think Cas is killing people by cuddling with them," Dean said, just to be sure.

Notes: Well that took a bit of a turn. I’m not sure why, but I love fics where Cas keeps bees, it was just so cute to see him that happy! (Even if he was crazy. Shut up).

Consolation by Trell on AO3. (1,195 words).

Tags: Aromantic, Aromantic Relationship, Asexual Relationship, Asexuality, Asexual Character.

My Rating: 3 stars.

Description: In which both of them are ancient, and neither of them are in love with each other.

Notes: Okay, I would first of all like to say that I do not ship Cas and Ten. I was kind of curious though, and clearly whoever wrote this ships Destiel and Ten/Rose. That being said, I am here for some angst; poor Cas and his unrequited love, and poor Ten because all his friends are dead.

Doctor Who

don’t hold this war inside by WishingTree on AO3. (1,824 words).

Tags: Asexual Yaz, Pre-Relationship, Asexual Character.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: “It’s just - I’m scared,” she finally manages. “Scared?” the Doctor stills where she’s been trying to roll up the sleeves of her coat, shoving the material of one arm over her elbow and asking, “Scared of what?” Yaz doesn’t answer, can’t answer, and the Doctor goes to reach for her, aborting the movement halfway and only managing an awkward swaying motion. “...Scared of me?”

Notes: Thasmin is a ship that, had I not stumbled across it on Instagram, would never have thought of on my own. Much like Sabriel, however, now the idea is in my head, I ship it! Also, the author in this fic manages to perfectly capture the Doctor’s personality, which is quite an impressive feat.

Whatever fits my skin by lloydsglasses on AO3. (1,481 words).

Tags: Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, Cross-Generational Friendship, Asexual Character, Asexuality, Canon Gay Character, LGBTQ Character, Aromantic, Pride.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: “So, does that happen to you a lot?” Bill asks once they’re safely back in the Doctor’s study, each cradling a mug of tea. “Getting snogged by gorgeous women as a thanks for saving their lives.” The Doctor sets his teacup down gently on the desk, mouth pursing in distaste. “Far more often than I’d like.”

Notes: Oh my god that was so (fucking) cute! Now I want more fics of characters going to pride. Maybe for next June. Also, I’m just saying that I hated Nardole and nothing you can say to me will make me change my mind.

Take It, Leave It (But you’d better believe it) by lloydsglasses on AO3. (760 words).

Tags: Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, Cross-Generational Friendship, Asexual Character. Aromantic, Canon Gay Character, Coming Out, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, LGBTQ Themes.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: “I told my foster mum that I’m gay. Now she keeps trying to set me up with guys."

“Ah,” says the Doctor, with a frown. “That seems… counterintuitive.”

Notes: I’ve always loved Bill and Twelve’s relationship, and this is such a cute scene! It is a crime we haven’t got more River Song content, by the way.

Crescendo by tenscupcake on AO3. (6,013 words).

Tags: Fluff, Asexual Character, Romance.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: As her relationship with the Doctor slowly develops into something a little more than friendship, Rose starts to wonder what's holding him back. But one fateful night, he confesses something that makes her realize she never had any reason to worry.

Notes: Beautifully written! I don’t think I’ve ever read a Ten/Rose fic before, but I have always shipped it and it is adorable.

Sherlock

The Important Bit by Solshine on AO3. (9,984 words).

Tags: Asexual Sherlock, Platonic Relationship, Amarriage, Same-Sex Marriage, Bromance, Domestic.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: Just where exactly is the line between “to love” and “to be in love”? What difference is required between “flatmate” and “husband”? (Besides the rings, obviously.) No, the important bit is that they have each other. Thirty years, give or take, in an atypical marriage. Basically a long bit of platonic domestic fluff.

Notes: Oh, this is absolutely one of my favourite Johnlock fics now. Absolutely adorable (because I love domestic Johnlock okay), I nearly cried, and now I want all the art of Sherlock with a fancy old cane!

the art of getting by (isn’t really so artsy at all) by stupidmuse_hatesme on AO3. (6,521 words).

Tags: Asexuality, Asexual Character, Asexual Sherlock, Romance, First Time, First Date, Slash.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: “He's treating things like they're normal! Things are not normal.” Sherlock drags his hands from his mussed up hair and covers his face. “You aren't helping much,” he mumbles into his palms. “I hope you know that.” The skull only grins from his perch and says not a word. “Really, you're supposed to do more than just--sit there.”

Notes: John is so unbelievably sweet in this, but Sherlock was bit OOC.

what does the world get by coloredink on AO3. (2,302 words).

Tags: Asexuality, Asexual Sherlock, Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship.

My Rating: 3 stars.

Description: A women's magazine quiz leads Sherlock to investigate the nature of love.

Notes: A cute lil’ fic about exploring your (in this case, lack of) romantic and sexual attraction.

Surprisingly Simple by heeroluva on AO3. (855 words).

Tags: Asexuality, Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, First Kiss, Touching, Fluff, Cuddling and Snuggling. My Rating: 3 stars. Description: In which John is asexual, and Sherlock never asks. Notes: Pretty cute, and it is always nice to see a character who is just cool with it, without some massive explanation. I can dream.

Good Omens

An Honest Surrender by Kedreeva on AO3. (4,107 words).

Tags: Ineffable Husbands, Post-Apocalypse, Love Confessions, Marriage Proposal, Marriage, First Kiss, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Soulmates, Soul Bond, Aziraphale’s True Form, Crowley’s True Form, Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: "For six thousand years," Crowley said, voice cracking, "I have wanted something I couldn't have, because I asked the wrong questions. But I'm asking the right one now. The only one that matters." In which Aziraphale follows Crowley home after the nonpocalypse.

Notes: Seriously, reading Good Omens fics always makes me so relaxed and sleepy it is unreal. I need to read them more often. Anyway, this is such a cute explanation for the final episode, and I loved it!

You’re the Only Prayer I Need by Kedreeva on AO3. (5,507 words).

Tags: Ineffable Husbands, Wingfic, Angel Wings, Angel/Demon Relationship, Wing Grooming, Bathing/Washing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Asexual Character, Asexuality, Asexual Relationship, Snake Crowley, Love Confessions, Trust, Non-Sexual Intimacy.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: Crowley had, in the six thousand years Aziraphale had known him, shed his skin exactly twice that Aziraphale knew of. Both times he had disappeared without a trace, having retreated somewhere very safe and very, very unknown to hide while he was so vulnerable, and Aziraphale had never thought to ask beyond that information. Everyone was, he had supposed at the time, entitled to their secrets. The problem was that he had stumbled directly into this secret now, and there was hardly a graceful way out of it.

Notes: The sheer level of trust is adorable, and I’m always here for snake Crowley.

A Little Less Celestial by Kedreeva on AO3. (2,360 words).

Tags: Non-Sexual Intimacy, Non-Sexual, Sharing a Bed, Ineffable Husbands, Literal Sleeping Together, Wingfic, Cuddling & Snuggling, Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: Aziraphale accidentally falls asleep, and Crowley teaches him sleeping isn't so bad, really.

Notes: Oh my God, this was so calming to read in a way I really can’t describe? Also, now I want a bookshelf bed.

Just One Yesterday by Kedreeva on AO3. (1,952 words).

Tags: True Form Crowley, True Form Aziraphale, Ineffable Husbands, Angst with a Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Post-Apocalypse, Time Travel, Time Loop, Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, Canon Compliant, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Missing Scene.

My Rating: 3 stars.

Description: Crowley and Aziraphale didn't stop the apocalypse on the first try, but you know what they say... try, try again.

Notes: I could not tell you the plot of this, but that image of Crowley’s true form was beautiful (and the artwork was phenomenal!).

So, there we have it! I hope you enjoy them, and have a nice week. By the way, if you have instagram, please would you consider following @justaceofficial? They are trying to get funding for a TV series which focuses on an asexual main character, and they ran an asexual advent running up to this week!

#spn #doctor who #good omens #sherlock #johnlock #ineffable husbands #ten/rose #destiel #asexual #aromantic #twelve

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our-smooty · 4 years

Text

Flowerbeds and Fertile Soil: Chapter 14

Fandom: Good Omens

Rating: Explicit

Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens, )Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer

Tags: Kidfic, Mpreg kind of, they can choose to present however so idk, Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley Has A Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has A Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has A Vulva (Good Omens), OCs Galor, parenting, using your snake form to avoid confrontation, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Pregnancy, if I missed a tag lemme know

Summary: They could do anything, go anywhere, all without the worry of Above or Bellow making a fuss. Even so, they mostly kept to their little patch of Eden, their cottage and garden and the simple life they’d carved out among the locals. Aziraphale opened a book shop in town, where he only occasionally sold any books (and the ones he did sell, were all modern and stocked specifically for that purpose). Crowley focused his attentions on the garden, and if he occasionally helped their elderly neighbour with her disobedient willow tree, then that was a secret no one needed to know. Lately, however, they had both been feeling rather restless, unbeknownst to each other. Aziraphale tried reorganizing his store, changing the way he tied his bowtie and even ate pizza –something he considered to be far too messy for him personally. Crowley had branched out into birdwatching, and then car maintenance (the human way), and even reading. Nothing scratched the itch for either of them.

Ao3 Link

It was Beelzebub’s turn to pick the meeting spot, so of course they were standing in a dark, damp back alley somewhere in the American Mid-West at three in the morning. Seemed a little out of the way to Gabriel, but the Prince of Hell had said something about an on-going project with the American political system that they couldn’t leave for a even a second, so here he was.

“We couldn’t meet inside somewhere? he sneered, eyeing the way his designer shoes were getting ruined in the disgusting sludge coming from a dumpster a few feet away.

“Don’t want you and your lot closer to this project than necessary. You’d just fuck it all up,” Beelzebub answered, rolling their eyes at him. Gabriel huffed and straightened his collar, though it of course wasn’t at all out of place.

“Well let’s make it quick then. Did your humans…?”

A dangerous growl that Gabriel was glad wasn’t directed at him. “No. Idiots got scared off by whatever the bastard had set up. They all ran off anyways.”

“Well mine got the job done. They sent a little… encouragement, to that ratty bookshop Aziraphale insists on keeping.” Gabriel was practically preening and he knew it. Being able to show up Beelzebub in any way always put him in a positive mood. Thwarting the enemy and all that.

“It’d be easier if we could be direct,” Beezle growled. The flies swarming around the dumpster began to make their way over and Gabriel had to swat a few away with the back of his hand.

“Get a hold of yourself, Beez. You were there, you know the almighty was clear that neither one of us could interfere directly!” Using humans as a loophole had been Michael’s idea and so far there hadn’t been any repercussions. But this had only been a test, and since things had gone well…

“We can escalate though, yes?” they buzzed, the flies zipping around excitedly and a grin breaking out on their face. “My contacts from before have been... reprimanded appropriately, and we’re ready to move on whenever you are.”

Gabriel’s face morphed into a tight smile of his own. He always had admired his demonic counterpart’s willingness to get a job done, no matter the cost. Beelzebub was shrewd and cutthroat and if they hadn’t been one of Satan’s damned, Gabriel might have hired them for a position Upstairs.

“Yes, we can move on to phase 2. Give it a few weeks, I’ll send you a memo, and a calendar invite for the pre-briefing. It’s Heaven’s turn to cater so…” Which was a good thing, since last time when it’d been Hell’s turn the lettuce on the tea sandwiches had been mouldy. Gabriel didn’t partake in the gross matter but it was the principle of the thing! “Are we still on for that event in Berlin next Saturday?”

“You’re the one who said it’d be in both our best interests if it went well, so yeah, I’ll be there. Don’t get in my way.” Beelzebub threw up a rather rude hand gesture then disappeared through a door in one of the buildings. Gabriel spent a few extra minutes in the ally, pondering whether contacting the demon to make sure their chosen apparel didn’t clash, or if that might get him in more trouble than it was worth.

The hunger didn’t really go away. Crowley woke up almost every morning with a strong desire to get to the breakfast table that persisted throughout lunch and supper. Aziraphale enjoyed it as an opportunity to exercise his cooking skills, even if it did require him to spend more of his day in the kitchen than was usual. Crowley repaid him for his kindness of course, he’d bring in fresh flowers (though with the changing seasons, he was going to have to switch to gourds), or later in the day bring him cocoa and biscuits while the angel was working on restoring a book. Sometimes, after a particularly good supper, Crowley might drop to his knees under the table and thank Aziraphale in a different way that the angel liked just as much as any of the others.

The change of season brought on a change in their routines as well. Since it was getting colder, Crowley spent a lot more of his time indoors curled up in front of the fireplace watching reality TV, or in bed taking long indulgent naps. When they’d first moved in together Crowley had tried to stay awake and active through the colder months, scared Aziraphale would be upset with him for lounging about. But after 10 years they’d come to an understanding. As long as Crowley made an effort to spend at least a little bit of time-conscious with the angel every day (barring very long naps, which were usually discussed beforehand), Aziraphale was happy. And Aziraphale being happy made Crowley happy which in turn made the colder months of the year much more pleasant for the demon.

On a blustery November afternoon, Crowley was making a significant effort to be awake as Aziraphale showed him pictures of cribs on his own laptop. He never should have shown the angel pinterest, or Amazon.

“So what do you think? I thought something traditional would be nice, and of course money isn’t really an object, and maybe there’s someone in town who does carpentry? But what about safety?” Crowley browsed the collections of cribs, and rocking chairs, and various baby paraphilia, trying to keep himself from drifting off. He’s set an alarm to wake him up just after midday in case he didn’t wake up naturally. Of course, he’d snoozed it a few times before dragging himself out of their bedroom and into the sitting room for a cuppa.

“Think we’ve seen thousands of babies make it just fine, even without all these fancy cribs and chairs and baskets. You know we can make just about anything safe if we want to, with wards and a good talking-to.” He paused on a simple crib made of light pine with gently scalloped finishings. “I know I’ve seen signs for ‘rustic’ furniture around the village, m’sure you could find someone to make one like this.”

“That would be lovely, wouldn’t it? It’s been a very long time since I had to make use of any woodworking skills, but I’m sure I could sketch something up for a professional to take a look at. Would you like to help, darling?”

“Sure, go get us a pencil and paper then, and maybe a refill?” There’d be no more coffee since Aziraphale insisted he keep to under a cup a day, but maybe the angel would allow him some tea. Aziraphale gave him a beatific smile then rushed off to his stacks of stationery. Crowley secretly thought it was sweet how Aziraphale still wrote letters on his own custom paper, with fountain pens and a personalized wax seal. Over the millennia he’d gotten thousands of letters from the angel, and he kept each one in a lockbox that was now hidden in the back of their closet. Outwardly, Crowley rolled his eyes when Aziraphale returned, playing the part of out-upon husband as usual.

“Alright, you get a start on here then, while I make more tea. You’ve always been better at the arts than me anyway.” Debatable, but Crowley was too sleepy to really argue. He took a pen and some paper and began to doodle out crib-shaped creations. As the kettle whistled and Aziraphale hummed to himself his drawing moved towards the more specific, detailing little flower engravings for decoration along all the legs. When Aziraphale came back with the tea and some biscuits, Crowley had less of a sketch and more of a fully fleshed-out design.

“Oh Crowley! It’s gorgeous love,” Aziraphale exclaimed as he sat down to take a look. Crowley had barely been thinking about what he was drawing, instead letting his hands take over while his mind coasted in a half-dreaming state. “I love the flowers, and the wings on the corners. “You’re so creative.”

“Thanks angel,” Crowley murmured, looking at his own drawing like he was seeing it for the first time. He took a sip of tea from the cup Aziraphale passed him, relaxing back against his angel. “But I’m sure you can do it better, if you try.”

“Nonsense. I think it’s perfect. Maybe we could do a little more research, just to make sure it’s up to safety standards, just in case, but otherwise, I don’t think I’d change a thing.” Crowley would have argued if he wasn’t already half asleep again, his teacup leaning dangerously to the side. “Are you really so tired my dear? You should have said.”

“Wanted t’spend some time w’you,” he mumbled. The teacup was gone from his hands, presumably taken by Aziraphale, and a warm blanket draped around his shoulders. “Don’t want you t’be lonely.”

“My sweet demon,” Aziraphale cooed. “Thank you, you’re always thinking of me. But I think I’m going to read for a little while, if you’re like to take a nap. You can use my lap, if you’re like.” Crowley was already sliding down so he was horizontal, his head cushioned against Aziraphale thighs. The angel used one hand to turn the pages of the book resting on the arm of the sofa, the other slung low on Crowley’s hips. That hand wormed its way under Crowley’s sweater--soft cotton, with little devil horns on the hood--so he could touch the bare skin of his belly.

“Love you,” Crowley hummed. Aziraphale wiggled a tiny bit, either in happiness or to get more comfortable, and sighed happily.

“I love you too, dear. Get some sleep.” And Crowley drifted off.

At first he was dreaming about the garden. Not the Garden, but his garden in the South Downs, at the cottage. It was summer, peak flowering period for some of his favourites and he was down on his knees at one of the smaller flower beds pulling weeds. The sun was exceedingly warm at the back of his neck but that was alright, he was nearly done. Then he could go inside and drink some of the lemonade Aziraphale had made earlier.

The dream oozed forward at a leisurely pace and he enjoyed every second. The sun slowly sank towards the horizon and the wind got a little chilly; it must have been later in the summer than he thought. Even though the weather was turning, he still felt warm though, an unfamiliar heat spreading from his core and out to his limbs. He looked down, almost expecting to see something silly like a hot water bottle--dream logic of course; even when he knew he was dreaming Crowley’s imagination got away from him--but instead saw his own body. And the baby bump.

“That you, Sprout?” he asked, his voice echoing strangely in the hazy dreamworld. “You’re very warm, taking after your Papa?”

A familiar wriggling, and something Crowley struggled to define. It almost reminded him of when we was still an angel, and he could sense love, a glowing joy from inside, spilling out through his cracks. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation, the dream’s slow pace lulling him into a sense of security. Here in his garden there was just him, the baby, and what felt like pure joy.

Crowley didn’t notice the dream shifting. The garden slowly getting darker and colder, the flowers wilting, shriveling, dying. Their cottage faded away, becoming an empty field, the sky a roiling grey. When Crowley opened his eyes and saw his surroundings, the oncoming storm whipping the dead grass and flowers all around, he knew. The warmth in his stomach pulled away and Crowley felt cold.

Something was coming.

Aziraphale was startled from deep in his reread of Frankenstein’s Monster by Crowley’s shuddering. Normally when the demon had a bad dream the first sign was a noise; a whimper or a shout that would alert Aziraphale to the situation so he could intervene. But even lacking the normal markers, the angel could tell something was wrong. Crowley was a very still sleeper, even if he did cling, and the erratic shaking and shivering he was doing right now certainly wasn’t normal.

“Crowley love, wake up. Shhh, it’s alright,” he said, loud enough to wake the other but softly enough to avoid startling him. He set his book aside and brought both hands into the equation, caressing and petting Crowley’s hair and shoulders. “Come on darling, time to wake up.”

“‘Zira? S’dark.” He didn’t sound upset, or panicked and Aziraphale let out a breath of relief.

“You were only asleep for an hour, but the suns already set, given how late in the year it is,” Aziraphale explained, still petting Crowley’s hair. “Were you having a bad dream?”

Crowley rubbed his face against the angel’s belly, dispelling the sleep from his eyes. “Strange. I was in the garden, and then it was dark out. Could feel…” He stared down at his stomach. “I think I could feel them there.”

“Really?” Aziraphale meant to ask more about the dream, but was easily sidetracked by the news of the baby communicating. “In what way did you see them?”

“Not see, just felt them. They were warm. But then it got dark, and I felt like I was freezing, and the cottage was gone--” his voice got faster and faster, his breathing more shallow. To stop him flying off into a panic attack Aziraphale thread his fingers through Crowley’s hair again, not really tugging but still a firm presence. “And then I woke up. That's it, nothing exciting angel.”

Aziraphale hummed lowly, in the way he knew relaxed Crowley. “I’m a little jealous of you. For getting to feel them, not for having a nightmare.”

Crowley wiggled so that instead of just his head resting in Aziraphale lap, his entire upper body was laying across his legs. Then he grabbed the hand the angel didn’t have woven through his hair and pressed it to his stomach.

“S’the best I can do. Maybe if you concentrate you’ll feel it too?” Aziraphale tried his hardest, willing his entire celestial self to focus in on that one small area. Underneath his hands Crowley shuddered, but Aziraphale kept on searching until--

“Oh!” He could feel something, at least. It wasn’t really warm, like Crowley had said, but there was movement. It was reassuring to know they were there, and alive, and growing. “You’re amazing Crowley.”

“What, me?” Crowley laughed, thoroughly pleased with himself. The anxiety from the dream didn’t stand a chance against praise from Aziraphale. Still, Crowley looked like he was done sleeping, because he sat up and stretched languorously. “S’a bit late to go out, but we could order in?”

“If you want. You’ll have to take a look at your application and see what’s available.” Somehow, despite being a ways out into the countryside they always had plenty of options for takeout. And they were well known by all the delivery persons as excellent tippers, so their food usually arrived on time or earlier than expected. “I’m not craving anything in particular.”

“Good, ‘cause I am. I want fries, and maybe a ceasar salad. Oh and falafel.” Crowley was already tapping wildly at his phone, presumably making his order. “And maybe something sweet, for after…”

“Cravings dear?” Aziraphale teased, nudging Crowley with one elbow like he used to do years ago, when they would walk through St. James’ Park. That was before the end that didn’t happen, when even the smallest contact between them was taboo. Now they could touch whenever they wanted, and so Aziraphale didn’t stop at just one nudge, instead choosing to lean heavily against Crowley so he could look at the screen, “The poor delivery person is going to have an awful lot of trouble carrying all that.”

Crowley just rolled his eyes and continued scrolling through his options. “So you don’t want bubble tea? I was going to get you taro flavour but if you think it’s too much--”

“Now now let's not be hasty love. I'm sure a large tip will make up for any trouble on the driver’s end.” Crowley giggled. Aziraphale tucked the sound away in his memory with all the other cute things Crowley did but would never admit to.

“I thought so. You can never resist, can you?” Refusing to be needled, Aziraphale decided to fire back. Crowley was so cuddly and soft; so completely unworried now that the nightmare had faded that he couldn’t resist. He nuzzled right underneath the other’s demon-sigil where he knew Crowley was extra sensitive and revelled in the full-body shudder it produced.

“Why should I? There’s no shame in liking nice things.” Aziraphale let the implication hang. Crowley could still be touchy about being called nice or good outside of the bedroom depending on his mood. This time however, Crowley sighed and shimmied away a bit so he could show Aziraphale the screen.

“Whatever you say angel. Does this look good?” The order list was expansive, and probably much more than either of them would be able to eat tonight. But that was alright, leftovers wouldn’t last long given Crowley’s new and voracious appetite.

“Splendid love. I’ll go set the table?” It was really an excuse to get up and move. As much as Aziraphale loved cuddling and pampering his husband, he did tend to get restless. Now that Crowley was awake and relaxed he could get up and bustle about, working off all the energy that had built up while the demon napped. With the excitement of the baby coming Aziraphale had been finding it difficult to sit still and not rush about, preparing everything.

“Can’t we just eat here?” Crowley asked, sprawling into the warm space on the sofa left behind by the angel. Aziraphale smiled and passed his slothful demon the telly remote.

“No, I won’t have you drop tahini and falafel bits all over the carpet. You can eat at the table or not at all.” Crowley glared but there wasn’t really any real anger in it. In fact, it was quite cute, not that he’d ever say that out loud. Crowley would not tolerate being called cute, no matter how happy he was.

“Fine, stuffy angel.” He turned the TV on and quickly navigated to NBC where Aziraphale knew they’d be playing Golden Girls at this hour. After one last fond look Aziraphale couldn’t stand still any longer, so he hurried off to get everything ready for their impromptu feast.

#fanfic #good omens #crowley #crowziraphale #aziraphale/crowley #aziraphale #tw mpreg #trans male pregnancy #gomens #ineffable husbands #ineffable lovers #fbafs

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10yrsyart · 4 years

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Sorry if you've been asked this before, but are you planning on selling your Dolphins and Ducks AU comic as a physical zine when it's finished? I have a steadily growing collection of Good Omens fan stuff, and I would love to add your gorgeous art to the mix... :D Either way, I'm massively looking forward to the next part of the story. Thank you for your incredible contribution to this fandom!

thankyou! i’m glad you’re enjoying it enough to ask haha ^-^ @fireflysummers has been so kindly talking to me about zine making. i think i want to try out making a small one before i’d jump to something like D+D. but the possibility is definitely there, now that i have someone who knows what they’re doing l’’D

#good omens #10 asks #Anonymous

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thetimemachinejellyfish · 4 years

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Gomens AU Fic Recs!

I’ve been reading so MANY beautiful fics lately that I wanted to compile a list for myself and for others. One of my jams is AUs, so that’s what this is all about. These fics are in no particular order as they are all perfect:

Angel!Aziraphale and Demon!Crowley in History:

Like Sleep to the Freezing by WaitingtoBeBroken

Note: 18th century, Discreet Gentleman’s Club, Lots of surprises that I don’t want to spoil for you but it’s SO WONDERFUL. A healthy helping of angst, of course, and if you haven’t read WaitingtoBeBroken’s other fics, you’re in for a treat. They have written a lot of wonderful Good Omens fic.

Once More, with Pharaohs by Duinemerwen.

Note: Ancient Egypt, my friends. WITH A TIME LOOP. This fic certainly has intrigue and angst in spades, coupled with soft moments and great insight into what Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship might have been like in the very early years. The atmosphere and attention to detail is *chef’s kiss*.

Human!Ineffable Husbands in Present-Day:

Petrichor and Parchment by @katnoggin

Note: The attention to detail this story has re: Aziraphale and book restoration is SUCH a treat. It feels like eating a Lindor truffle with my eyes =D And happily, the story is already written so if you’re nervous about WIPs, never fear! This story’s weekly updates are guaranteed.

The Best Laid Plans by @hopeinthedark1901

Note: I regularly re-read the many complete stories of this lovely author, who is currently working on the fic Ab Astris (Alternate Canon, Angel!Aziraphale and Demon!Crowley) that I rec if you’re looking for creative approaches to the Angel/Demon universe we’ve been given by Good Omens.

Ink Blots and Forget-Me-Nots by gutsandglitter.

Note: This is a beautiful ‘getting back together’ story that unfolds in a perfect way. And if you’re worried about angst, 11/12 chapters have already been posted and a happy ending is assured in the tags =D

Golden Handcuffs by @bestoftheseekwill

Note: I will live and die for academia!AUs, and this is one of my FAVORITES. The details are impeccable, the tension and slowburn of the relationship between Crowley and Aziraphale is enough to make you want to shout from the rooftops. There are also waterfalls. And castles. So think about the ambiance, friends! Happily, this author has another finished priest!Aziraphale, in-deep-with-shady-folks!Crowley story - Acts of Service - that I can recommend whole-heartedly, alongside the rest of their works.

Let’s Not by Rokikurama

Note: Speaking of academia!AUs that I would die for, this is another one. It is also one of the first AUs I read in the Good Omens fandom, so it has a special place in my heart. :) The infuriating hierarchy of academia creates such an excellent backdrop for the development of Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship, and you can feel the very human stakes of it which I love.

Rules and Exceptions by @smartgirlsaremean

Note: This amazing AU! has teacher!Aziraphale and guardian!Crowley navigating the exciting world of parent-teacher dynamics. There is so much chemistry and tension and loveliness between these characters, with an added bonus of charming Adam and Warlock :D

Getting Sacked by @vgersix

Note: What can I say about this fic that doesn’t devolve into keysmashing. It is probably the most thoughtful, beautiful, and careful BDSM stories I have ever read, which makes it such a pleasure to read. Beyond this, the characters feel so incredibly real and the author seamlessly weaves in corporate espionage and their developing relationship in a way that is so charming and engaging.

Slow Show by @mia-ugly

Note: No list of best Good Omens fics would be complete without this gift of a fic. If for some reason you haven’t read it yet, showmance!AU. Out of this world. My descriptions would not give it justice so instead I set you loose with a link to the fic itself on AO3!

Leave the Light On by @enbyziraphale and @artist-formerly-known-as-crawley

Note: It is the FAMOUS phone sex operator!Crowley and Aziraphale AU that is rightfully getting all kinds of recognition on my dash :D This fic is a FREAKING DELIGHT, not least because it is riffing on one of my FAVORITE ROMCOMS OF ALL TIME, You’ve Got Mail. These authors are fantastic, and each chapter will get you even more excited for the eventual, inevitable collide/realization of phone!sex world and “real”!world.

The Only One I Still Know How to See by Furuba_Fangirl

Note: Thespian!Crowley and adoring audience member!Aziraphale here. I love that the play Crowley acts in is fully realized alongside the world outside of the stage - this commitment to detail makes the story so immersive. I adore it.

If Not Now, When by @ineffablefool

Note: This fic is all about the soft zone, and what I love most about it is how Crowley and Aziraphale are on journeys of loving each other and loving themselves, and the author does such a wonderful job of conveying this. I always leave this story feeling like I’ve had the best hot cocoa in the world =D

Human!Ineffable Husbands In Other Exciting Historical/World Contexts:

The Sometimes Wife by @marveliciousfanace

Note: A regency AU that is anything you could want from a regency AU, that lovingly gives us genderfluid!Crowley in regency style which is honestly everything my heart desires. Also! There is a BALL. I love a good ball scene.

sweetest words remain by @weatheredlaw

Note: A royal! AND consort!AU set in an alternate world - the kingdoms are vividly described, and this is actually the SEQUEL to another story which I recommend reading first: with all your delights. It has all the elements I love in royal intrigue stories - the tension between the king’s public and private selves, advisers being the bane of everybody’s existence, and falling in love (naturally). There are love letters exchanged. They are beautiful.

On Espionage and Prophecy by RockSaltandRoll

Note: Honestly, this fic is a damn delight. 1940s Aziraphale and Crowley, getting into the double crossing and the spies, reimagining that AMAZING scene from Episode 3 from a human perspective. The author’s historical knowledge and style is immersive, as is the developing relationship between our heroes!

Human!Crowley and Angel!Aziraphale:

A Machine For Living In (+ 2 continuations!) by pineapplesquid.

Notes: Architect!Crowley is a blessing. I learned so much about brutalism (and Aziraphale’s attitudes towards brutalism are *chef’s kiss* as you might expect). This series of fics is fantastic.

Pray for Us, Icarus by @seaskystone

Notes: If you follow Human AU adjacent fics, you’ve probably already seen this gorgeous collection of moments - buckets of tears. Beautiful. And Atalan has a canon-compliant sequel to Good Omens, Instructions Not Included that I totally recommend for anyone who hasn’t yet read it - it’s spectacular!

#good omens #ao3 #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #fic recs

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shenanigans-and-imagines · 2 years

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It's the 5 Year Anniversary of this Blog!

Keeping with tradition. We're doing ships!

Requests will be limited to the first 30.

Send Me

ONE fandom you’d like to be shipped with

Which GENDER you’d like to be shipped with

A description of your PERSONALITY (I’m sure you’re all drop dead gorgeous, but relationships are more than looks)

Who YOU ship ME with and WHY: Word I’d use to describe myself: Pensive. Word others use to describe me: Sweet. Hobbies/Interest: Writing, Film Analysis, and History. I’m extremely introspective, and spend a lot of my time alone. I’m considered a reliable person, but can often get lost in my own head. Ideally I'd like have a book published someday, but at this point I'd settle for finally finishing any of my WIPs. Also, a kitchen of my own would be amazing.

Request sent to my ask box

ONE ship per person

If you do not follow the rules, I will not answer your ships. You can send more than one asks if you don’t have enough space, just make sure to number the asks so I can organize them.

Fandoms I write for:

Star Wars (Prequels, Original Trilogy, Sequel Trilogy, Rogue One, Solo, The Clone Wars, Star Wars: Rebels, The Mandalorian, The Bad Batch, Thrawn Trilogy)

Marvel/MCU

The Magnificent Seven

Star Trek (TOS/AOS)

Good Omens

M*A*S*H

Game of Thrones

Anything else you’ve seen me reblog

PLEASE NO REAL PEOPLE

#5th year anniversary #star wars #marvel #mcu #the magnificent seven #star trek tos #star trek aos #good omens #m*a*s*h #mash #game of thrones #got

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phanomeheart · 5 years

Note

do u have any recs for good omens blogs or fics?

Anon, I have SO MANY good omens fic recs!

I’m gonna put them under the cut, but this inspired me to finally make a spreadsheet of recs that will autofill from my master spreadsheet of GO fic with fics I’ve finished and recommend.

On to some specific recs, if you’re not wanting over 150 fics to wade through:

First and foremost, I have to rec the first good omens fic I ever read, Salinity (And Other Measurements of Brackish Water) by @drawlight. This fic made me go from adamantly insisting I wasn’t going to get into good omens fic yet cuz I still had to finish my thesis to now having read 245 fics in less than 2 months (send help). I’m going to go ahead and rec all of their fics and can so far personally attest to the brilliance and soul crushing beauty of: Quiet Light, Ad Astra, Alegría, and I Will Get Up Now And Go About The City. I consistently need a minumum of 24 hours to recover after reading something of theirs.

The rest, in no particular order:

small infinities and all that (M, 13.2k) by @billypotts: And there it is, isn’t it? Something they’ve known for a long time, but haven’t named it. Have been too scared to name it. Something that speaks in their bones, in the space between them. Crowley and Aziraphale are turned human. This is the aftermath.

lit in the darkness (M, 40.5k) by ToEdenandBackAgain: Aziraphale returns to Crowley's flat for the night after Armageddon. After all, it's hardly the first time they've shared sleeping arrangements. Or: Times throughout history Crowley and Aziraphale have shared a bed.

Something We Were Withholding Made Us Weak (M 17.1k) by triedunture: "Yes, exactly. Retire." Aziraphale reaches for the last remaining tartlet brimming with summer berries. "Somewhere along the south coast, perhaps." Or: Crowley and Aziraphale learn to move in tandem.

all i need, darling, is a life in your shape (G, 14.2k) by @mortuarybees: After everything, Aziraphale and Crowley, by unspoken agreement, begin sharing their lives.

Something to do with these sacred words (T, 11.k) by Solshine: Crowley confesses early, and Crowley confesses often. Aziraphale never knows quite what to say.

Anywhere You Want to Go (E, 9.9k) by Aria: Aziraphale knew Crowley liked him. He'd known it with a horrible clarity since around 1100, which was at least a thousand years after the first time he'd thought of kissing Crowley, and some eight hundred and odd before it occurred to him that the specific quality of Crowley's regard could be very dangerous for both of them, if they actually admitted their feelings aloud. It was also two weeks since any of that had mattered at all anymore.

Slow (T, 9.4k) by @theirdarkreturning: It started like this: A boy with the ability to warp reality met an angel and a demon and he made assumptions. You might say it started like this: An angel and a demon found a marriage contract hung on the wall of the angel's bookshop. They didn't question it. It also could have started like this: Once upon a time, the angel told the demon he went too fast. The demon took it to heart. Aziraphale and Crowley find themselves somehow married. Crowley fears going too fast. Aziraphale forges ahead. Neither know how to ask questions of each other.

At Least Eleven Second First Times (M, 8.8k) by enjambament: Aziraphale deals with the consequences of having a brand new body after he'd broken the last one in for 6,000 years. Crowley helps. Taking a drunk-on-life Aziraphale on an impromptu road trip through French wine country to the North of Spain for a beach holiday is definitely helping, right?

An Angel who did not so much Fall In Love as Settle Into It Gradually (G, 7.5k) by @theladyzephyr: “Why does it bother you?” Crowley asked. “Even if you can’t get to them in time to wipe their memories, it’s not like anyone’d believe them. Kid goes running to her mum saying Ooh, I’ve just seen a bloke with three heads and a sixteen-foot wingspan, what do you think’s going to happen? Chances are they’ll just pat her on the shoulder and tell her what a vivid imagination she’s got.”“That’s not what worries me,” said Aziraphale.

it's the light (it's the obstacle that casts it) (T, 5.8k) by Handful_of_Silence: It's like having a curtain pulled back on something he wasn't expecting to see. A surprise punch-and-judy at an up-scale restaurant, a lobster thermidor when he's ordered an ale.Crowley's gleefully trying to wrap his head around the fact that Aziraphale is speaking Polari. Because of course he is. Or: The Patron Saint of London's LGBT Community is real, and he lives in Soho.

every angel is terrifying (T, 4.8k) by punkfaery: “Why does it bother you?” Crowley asked. “Even if you can’t get to them in time to wipe their memories, it’s not like anyone’d believe them. Kid goes running to her mum saying Ooh, I’ve just seen a bloke with three heads and a sixteen-foot wingspan, what do you think’s going to happen? Chances are they’ll just pat her on the shoulder and tell her what a vivid imagination she’s got.” “That’s not what worries me,” said Aziraphale.

a city wall and a trampoline (T, 4.7k) by kafkian: In their cottage in the South Downs, when Crowley eventually succeeds in getting Aziraphale to use a laptop, it takes Aziraphale literal hours to get past the default Windows screensavers of picturesque locations because 'oh, look, isn't it lovely, Crowley!' 5 times Crowley knows he’s in love with Aziraphale + 1 time he knows the reverse.

Morning Has Broken (T, 3.9k) by @dwarven-beard-spores: The year is 1972 and the last surviving member of Aziraphale’s gentleman’s club has passed away. (Warning for this one: heavy discussions of death and mourning. These are things I normally avoid for personal reasons, but this fic was gorgeous and just the right kind of painful on this topic for me.)

Love Hath Made Thee a Tame Snake (E, 3.5k) by @thehoyden: He was the bloody Serpent of Eden, and he wasn’t going to stand for this kind of flagrant trespassing.

An Invitation You Can't Decline (E, 2k) by @thehoyden: “I have standards,” Aziraphale huffed.“Don’t I know it,” Crowley sighed. And then, like he’d done it a hundred times before, he covered Aziraphale’s hand with his.

You, Soft and Only (E, 9.4k) by @thehoyden: He hadn’t expected a sudden lapful of angel.“Very sorry about this,” Aziraphale said, and kissed him.

the deft, sweet gesture of your hand (E, 12.1k) by @mortuarybees: Crowley arrives injured at Aziraphale's door. He takes care of him, reads him an awful lot of Mary Oliver, and knits elaborate metaphors for his insecurities (literally).

the technology is neutral (E, 6.9k) by @deputychairman: “Stand up?” he echoed, incredulous but too undone by sensation to express the full force of his disbelief. “I can barely even remember my own name after that, and you want me to stand up?”“Your name is Anthony J Crowley, apparently, although you never did tell me what the J stood for so I can’t help you there,” he said, not hiding his smile. “Do stand up, I promise you’ll like it.”

Sudden and Surprising Moments of Overwhelming Affection (G, 2.7K) by @forineffablereasons: Aziraphale has not shut up in thirty-four minutes. Crowley’s been counting.

get religion quick (cause you're looking divine) (G, 4.3k) by @brinnanza: So it was fine. Even if Crowley couldn’t love him, he clearly liked him well enough, and that was almost the same thing.It no doubt would have continued to be fine, or at least fine-adjacent, were it not for a narrowly averted apocalypse and several bottles of a really quite nice Riesling Aziraphale had found in the back room of his newly restored bookshop.

Wings and How to Hide Them (M, 10.1k) by triedunture: Crowley's been annoyingly in love for six thousand years. What's another lifetime between friends? Or: Aziraphale definitely fucks and isn't that just perfect?

i know i've kissed you before (but i didn't do it right) (G, 4.8k) by @gallantrejoinder: They'd given it a go once. Ages ago. And they'd both agreed it wasn't for them.

I’ll cut myself off there, but the Good Omens fandom is distressingly full of amazing fic, and there are so many more I love too (see the spreadsheet)! All of the above fics have personally ruined me and I cannot rec them highly enough. Don’t forget to leave a comment if you feel up to it!

In terms of blogs, I don’t know that I’m a great source for that, but some blogs I follow: @rafaelafranzen, @forineffablereasons, @drawlight, @thehoyden. I’m realizing that’s really it on the primarily GO focused blogs. I also have a GO sideblog, @sansevieriatri, but I don’t know if I’d rec it, as it’s mostly me reblogging art and fic I love and screaming about it in the tags (so basically like this blog).

Thanks for the ask! I enjoyed this more than I think probably anyone else will, lol. (Also, my constant disclaimer, if I’ve made any mistakes let me know.)

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impishnature · 4 years

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Neither Can I

AO3 Fandom: Good Omens Rating: G Summary: Dance with me. A/N: @sightkeeper has been keeping me sane and happy with lovely dancing images and it just gave me a sweet self-indulgent fluff idea I had to share in the hopes it would do the same for everyone else.

The room held a soft hush that he wasn't sure it ever had before.

Sure there had been quiet moments, peaceful ones even.

But never quite this.

Aziraphale glanced up from his book, his shoulders relaxing further as he took in Crowley basking on the sofa. He was sprawled, as if he had at one point been sitting properly before he'd slid down and refused to care about propping himself back up. A beam of sunlight stretched across the fabric, illuminating the bright fire of his curls and the liquid gold of his eyes and for a moment the angel was captivated enough not to notice that the other was staring right back at him. There was still something serpentine about his poise and grace, as if his muscles had moved without thought to put him in as much as the light as they could, warming him inside and out, and even as Aziraphale wondered if that was the reasoning behind it, he definitely wasn't complaining at the view it afforded him.

"Like what you see?"

Aziraphale blinked, eyes zoning back to Crowley's face with a start. He could feel the heat on his cheeks as he turned back to his book. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He was pretty sure he could have come up with something wittier if he'd given it more thought. Unfortunately, he'd been rather... distracted.

He was pretty sure Crowley was physically warming his face from the heat that radiated from the chair across from him.

It amplified as a bright chuckle hissed around the room at his response.

Yes, it was all definitely softer than it had been before.

It felt like everything had been a rush up until now. Clandestine meetings, even in broad daylight, held frequently but quickly. It wouldn't do to be caught in one another's presence as much as they enjoyed it. So they had held one another at arms length, always a distance, always a level of professionalism to keep them aloof. Or at least they had tried, forever looking over shoulders in an attempt to hide from the rest of the world what they struggled to hide from themselves.

Now... they could take their time. They could enjoy one another's company without the fear of retribution.

He could sit with his books and with Crowley and really, was there anything more he could ask for?

He closed his eyes for a brief second, trying to sort out the short circuiting in his brain and cool down the heat in his cheeks before letting his eyes drift once more to the page.

Strangely though, the heat intensified, burning like two dots into his face.

He was being watched.

His eyes flicked up again, catching Crowley's expression, head propped up on one arm languidly. It was so open, endeared affection and delight easily distinguishable in his gaze and his smile.

He wasn't sure he'd ever seen him that open before.

"What?"

He couldn't help it. It was almost embarrassing to be looked at like that.

"What 'what'?" Crowley raised an eyebrow at him, head tilting ever so slightly and Aziraphale couldn't help the word cute popping up in his head though he made sure not to say it out loud.

Aziraphale sighed, trying for irritated but he knew it came out as fond as Crowley's smile widened into something he was more used to. "You're staring."

"I know."

Dear God, he could be a pain. A cute, exasperating pain, but a pain nonetheless.

His eyes were sparkling with glee, absolutely ecstatic to be teasing him in a way that wouldn't end in an argument for the both of them.

And Aziraphale couldn't find it in him to be agitated in anyway by it.

Well, other than being absolutely smitten by the silence laughter vibrating through the others shoulders.

And if Crowley was going to be an utter tease then he was sure he was rather entitled to act oblivious to it all.

"Is there something on my face?" He dropped his book to his lap, hands flittering across his skin, making a show as Crowley continued to stare at him with that quiet happiness.

"No." Crowley sat up then, pushing himself into a proper seated position and Aziraphale found he was rather disappointed that the game was ending so soon.

"Then-"

"Dance with me."

It was Aziraphale's turn to stare, though rather more in disbelief and bafflement. Crowley didn't seem phased however, pushing off of the sofa and stretching up, once again distracting the angel by the slip of skin that became visible at his midriff at the action. He pulled his eyes away and back to Crowley's knowing smirk, flustered and indignant as he closed his book to take in what he had asked in it's entirety.

"Ex-Excuse me?"

Crowley's smirk widened, shortening the distance between them with a few long steps. His movements were unhurried, his demeanour nonchalant as he stood before him. He straightened his collar, took the book from Aziraphale's grip and placed it on the arm of the chair before returning his gaze back to Aziraphale's.

He extended his hand before him, an invitation or perhaps more of a request.

"Dance with me."

Instead Aziraphale placed his hand on his chest, shocked by it all. He tried to ignore his fluttering heart at the charm and confidence that the other was exuding.

"Dance? Crowley, don't be ridiculous."

He didn't like how Crowley's expression fell. He wasn't actually denying him, not really, he just didn't understand where all of this had come from.

"Why not?"

"Because..." He didn't actually have an answer for that. There was no real reason to say no. "Well, for a start, you can't dance."

"Neither can you."

The light was back in his eyes. Aziraphale could practically feel his feathers get ruffled up as Crowley raised an eyebrow, practically daring him to argue that point.

But even he knew that as proud as he was of learning that dance many years ago, it was rather... outdated.

It was also not really conducive for the kind of dancing that he was sure Crowley meant.

Instead of answering at all, Aziraphale took in his expression. Where had all of this come from? His expression was so open and yet there was something there that he couldn't quite distinguish. Was it excitement? Anticipation? Or just pure unfiltered amusement?

It was starting to tinge with something more awkward though the longer he sat silently, the smile was slipping even as hard as he tried to paste it there, regret filtering in to dampen gleaming eyes.

"C-Come on, Angel. No ones watching. Dance with me."

Oh.

That's what it was.

It was freedom.

Pure release, pure openness that he hadn't been able to read.

Crowley was at peace, he could act on his spur of the moment thoughts and just be.

And wasn't that a gorgeous sight? To just be and live and love?

He wasn't sure he'd ever seen anything as beautiful.

Aziraphale smiled at him, watched as his own smile returned as he accepted the hand but made no move to actually stand.

"There's no music-"

It was filtering through the bookcases from some unseen place as the words left his mouth. A chuckle escaped him at the quickness of the miracle, as if Crowley was jumping on the chance before Aziraphale could change his mind.

Their hands were still held tightly between them, neither of them making a move, Crowley waiting patiently for Aziraphale to catch up.

"Alright. But I'm reminding you now that I can't dance."

Crowley grinned, bright and bold and Aziraphale could feel the same tugging at his own lips. He pulled him up into his arms, their faces close and the distance between them broken.

"Good, neither can I."

#Good Omens Fanfiction #good omens #Crowley #aziraphale

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williamvapespeare · 4 years

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Greetings! Hello! My guys, gals, and nonbinary pals! I present to you: williamvapespeare’s random list of fics for many different fandoms, a rec list for when you’re going absolutely insane and wish you could just go out or get a hug or kiss someone or literally just exist in a space where time is real and not an endless monotony of….you get it.

A fic so good it literally made me watch all of Roswell New Mexico: Wednesday’s Child by beamirang. A link to this fic showed up on my dash one day and it was reblogged by one of my favorite fic writers so I clicked on it, despite not knowing the fandom and BOY was that a good idea. It’s beautifully written - like a haze that solidifies throughout the story along with Alex’s mental state. It’s a gorgeous portrayal of love and suffering and longing and trauma. I was blown away. And then I watched the whole show this is for (which, spoiler: it’s like, a mix of actually good and good/bad) so if that doesn’t tell you something I don’t know what will.

A fic to read when you’re lonely: The Times that Try Men’s Souls by chainsaw_poet. This fic is from 2013 and I do. not. care. I will rec it now and I will rec it forever: it is SOFT. It is FRIENDSHIP. Also, it gives Joly the love he deserves!! Every character is spot on, the group dynamic is perfect, the whole thing just feels so comforting and lovely, and whenever I feel down it just warms my soul. This fic feels like a nice big Les Amis group hug for my brain and I’m all about it!

A fic for when you want to laugh: I Write Siths Not Trajedis by inkycloak. Written by my incredible, dashing, mysterious friend (and father figure), I have literally read this fic so many times and laughed out loud every time. I’ve played drinking games to this fic!! It’s a My Immortal parody about Kylo Ren ft. Kylux, snapchat filters, and shenanigans. Honestly, it’s fucking hilarious but it’s such intelligent comedy and also, the author, they KNOW Star Wars lore. It’s so on point in every way - you will live your best life reading this fic.

A fic for when you love Cal Kestis like your own son, read the Jedi Apprentice books as a kid, and would die for Commander Cody: There (and back again?) series by beamirang. This is a fic about Cody, Cal, and the Mantis crew going back in time and meeting up with teenage Obi-Wan and giving that boy the love and support he deserves. It’s a fun Star Wars romp in which all of my faves have a lot of trauma and get lots of hugs and like, honestly, it doesn’t get better than that.

An incredibly niche fic, possibly written for me personally: What life looks like from up above (and down below) by cheesethesecond. I spent most of my Christmas rewatching all of Boy Meets World and hear me out: yes, the show is very outdated, it leaves a lot to be desired. But it’s still absolutely incredible, it’s nostalgic and it manages to be a fun show while having these absolutely heartbreaking hints at things that are so so real it’s crazy to think that a kids show actually did that back then. (Also, as someone who literally studies male friendship the Shawn and Cory relationship is top tier!! The show literally points out how untoxically masculine they are on multiple occasions….and then makes it into a joke bc fuck that, but STILL.) This is an absolutely beautiful fic by one of my all-time favorite writers about Shawn Hunter kind of sort of getting parental love and, that, kids, is everything I want for him!!!!

Drop everything you’re doing and read this fic right now, please, right this instant, just go: A Change in Energy (The Force over Distance Remix Project) by kvikindi. This is a fic by probably my favorite writer on ao3, and i’m not exaggerating. It’s a full blown novel-length absolute MASTERPIECE of a Stargate Universe fic - and let me tell you guys, you don’t have to have seen any Stargate for it to be incredible. It’s beautifully written, deeply deeply intelligent - like, the writer literally created a language for this - every small detail clearly has so much thought and intent behind it; it’s truly a gift. Also, like, it has just wonderful enemies to friends to lovers banter and softness and great sex and just like, every single thing you want in any piece of fiction - this fic has it. I’ve reread this twice and every time I find something new in it. I really can’t explain how good this is with my own mortal words, you’ll just have to read it yourself.

My favorite Black Sails fic: Unaccommodated Man by kvikindi. This is a beautiful, in depth, psychological look at Thomas Hamilton and also the hands-down best FlintHamilton reunion fic I’ve ever read. It is, quite honestly, exactly what Thomas deserved. It has some of the most perfect characterization I’ve ever seen and it’s both deeply melancholy and hopeful. Read it.

A fic that feels like a dream: like a prayer for which no words exist by lipsstainedbloodred. This is an absolutely beautiful Good Omens fic that takes place in the aftermath of the apocalypse. I’ve seen a lot of these kinds of feelings being recognized and trauma being dealt with fics, but this one just stood out to me. It’s truly beautiful and the way Crowley hurts throughout it just feels so real and intangible in the most tangible way possible. It’s heartbreaking, but it’s not sad?

And finally, last but certainly not least: READ IF TRUTH IS NORTH BY LYRES DO IT do IT NOW SLOW BURN EXR ROADTRIP, GO KIDS GO IT’S THERE WAITING FOR U. (I’ve reced this so many times and also I yell at the author (another of my incredible, dashing, mysterious friends) about how cool she is all the time, but it’s still going up here because i’m still not over it!)

#fic recs #rec list #so many fandoms im sorry #i have way way more les mis fics i love #also some sw ones #these are just ones that were on my mind rn #honestly like i just love good writing and will read anything that's super well written #Les mis #Star wars #roswell new mexico #Good omens #Stargate universe #Boy meets world #Black sails

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angelofrainfrogs · 4 years

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My World is Only You

Fandoms: Good Omens

Description: Aziraphale and Crowley find each other at a party in 18th Century England. Conversations and confessions ensue, leading to an evening neither of them quite expected.

Rating: T

Genre: Romance/Humor

Read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27273958

This story was written for @Waywarder during the 2020 Ineffable Wives Fic Exchange. Check out the collection here: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/wivesexchange2020

You showed me feelings I've never felt before We're making enemies, knocking on the devil's door But how can you expect me not to eat When the forbidden fruit tastes so sweet?

So let's be sinners to be saints And let's be winners by mistake The world may disapprove But my world is only you And if we're sinners then it feels like heaven to me

-“Sinners” by Lauren Aquilina

***

England, 1740

Crowley lurked at the edge of the grand ball, sneering into her wine glass as another man plucked up the courage to walk over and attempt a conversation. A party like this was certainly not her preferred scene, full of loud music and equally boisterous people on a night when all Crowley really wanted to do was sleep. But, Hell’s orders dictated that she must tempt one of the attendees into making a greedy financial decision that would eventually lead to bankruptcy, and who was she to deny her assignment[1].

Crowley used a quick miracle to divert the incoming man’s attention back to the woman he’d arrived with and let out a sigh. It seemed as though the only gentleman she hadn’t talked to this evening was her target, who had yet to show up. Just as she started to debate the consequences of leaving early and falsifying her report to Hell, a sound cut through the crowd and made her eyes widen behind rounded glasses.

“Oh goodness, that really was quite clever!” said the ethereal voice with a tinkling laugh that anyone but Crowley would have taken for genuine. However, Crowley could hear the mild annoyance in Aziraphale’s tone and promptly set off to investigate. She found the angel by the dessert table, caught up in conversation with a man leaning rather closely into Aziraphale’s personal space. A ripple of deep annoyance slithered up Crowley’s spine[2].

“Well, well, Aziraphale—fancy meeting you here!” Crowley said, striding up to the angel’s side with a grin. She turned her smile on the man and he took an involuntary step back at the sharpness of her teeth.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale exclaimed, relief evident in her tone. “How lovely to see you! And what impeccable timing; Jonathan and I were just finishing our conversation.”

“Oh, but I—” the man began to say, but knew he was finished when Crowley looped her arm through Aziraphale’s and physically turned her away.

“Alright, Angel?” Crowley asked as they walked towards the balcony, plucking a drink off a passing waiter’s tray and handing it to the woman-shaped being at her side.

“Yes, I’m perfectly fine; thank you dear,” Aziraphale replied, taking the drink and downing it in one go. Crowley raised an eyebrow, and she smiled sheepishly in response. “Ah, it’s been a long night. I usually don’t mind these sort of gatherings, but I must say the people at this one have been rather… aggressive.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Crowley responded, her gaze shifting down to Aziraphale’s crème and blue dress, which accentuated the more feminine features of her corporation in a way that made Crowley’s mouth run dry. Crowley herself wore a dress in a similar style, as was the fashion of the day, though hers was crafted from deep reds and black. Both dresses had a low neckline[3], a large bustle, and half-sleeves in which the dress fabric stopped at the elbow to be replaced with soft lace. The intricate embroidery throughout each outfit was a focal point; while Aziraphale’s dress contained mindless swirling patterns, if one looked hard enough they could find serpents coiling around each other throughout Crowley’s ensemble.

Though her eyes were shaded, Crowley knew Aziraphale caught her ogling a bit too long when she felt a light pinch on her arm. “Oi! Don’t get mad at me when you’re the one letting everything hang out!”

“I am not letting everything ‘hang out!’” Aziraphale said, turning up her nose. Crowley noticed, however, that the angel had yet to remove her arm from where it was still looped through hers. “This is the fashion of today, and while I would certainly prefer a higher neckline, it makes it a bit difficult to talk to people when I’m presumed as too ‘stuffy.’”

“But… you are stuffy,” Crowley responded, then laughed at Aziraphale’s pout. “I’m only joking, Angel; you’re only boringly dull on rare occasions.”

Aziraphale rolled her eyes as they made it through the glass doors leading to the balcony. She snapped as the doors shut, locking them and also diverting attention from anyone else who might want to get some fresh air. She gently pulled her arm free of Crowley’s and walked to the edge of the balcony, sighing contentedly as she surveyed the night sky. The autumn air was crisp, a wayward breeze lifting a few ringlets of soft blonde hair that had escaped the intricate curls atop Aziraphale’s head.

Crowley stared, momentarily forgetting to keep up the ruse of breathing as a jumble of thoughts suddenly consumed her mind. These thoughts soon coalesced into:

My God—Satan—Someone… she’s absolutely gorgeous.

“You can really see the stars tonight,” Aziraphale commented, and Crowley could hear the smile in her voice. The angel pointed to a particularly bright cluster. “Oh! Didn’t you make that one, dear?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah,” Crowley said, snapping back to the present. She physically shook herself, trying to chase away the thoughts[4] and the pale blush on her face. Once sufficiently calm she sauntered to Aziraphale’s side and gripped the balcony railing with one hand, grounding herself with the cool stone as she followed the angel’s gaze. “I also made that one, those few over there, and… yeah, and that one right there.” She pointed to each star as she mentioned it, then mistakenly glanced at Aziraphale and promptly forgot how to breathe again.

The angel was watching her with a fondness Crowley had rarely seen. Aziraphale’s face was usually kind—she was an angel, of course, and a truly good one at that. Her default setting was “compassionate and reassuring.” However, that kind look often had an underlying quality to it, as if she were repeating the mantra: “Angels must love everyone, it’s my duty,” especially when dealing with the more unsavory side of humanity. After knowing her for so long, Crowley could tell when Aziraphale was looking at something she truly adored, like a book she’d been after for decades or her favorite dessert.

And at that moment, Aziraphale was looking at her in exactly the same way.

I’m seeing things, Crowley thought, an unbidden blush creeping up her neck. My stupid fantasies are clouding what’s actually in front of me or… or maybe it’s the wine… that must be it.

“My dear…,” Aziraphale began, and as Crowley fully turned to face her she was acutely aware of how close they were. The only thing separating them was the ostentatious bustles of their dresses, which were very good at keeping unwanted people out of your personal space but were very counterproductive in situations like these.

“Hn?” Crowley choked out, unable to form a coherent word. Time slowed as Aziraphale reached out a hand, cautiously bringing soft fingertips towards Crowley’s flushed cheek. The demon’s breath quickened as the angel’s hand inched closer and closer. What felt like hours later, yet was still too soon for Crowley’s mind to catch up with, she felt the faint brush of trembling fingertips against her cheekbone and—

They both jumped violently as something slammed into one of the glass doors, breaking whatever spell they’d been under. They turned in unison, Aziraphale’s hand snatched back to her side as if ready to pull a flaming sword out of thin air, Crowley’s hackles raised and a hint of fangs visible behind red-painted lips.

“Oh for Satan’s sake,” Crowley groaned as she realized it had just been a drunk partygoer crashing quite spectacularly into a waiter, knocking them both down and into the door. She heard Aziraphale let out a shaky sigh as the angel fixedly watched the humans get to their feet. Only once things inside had gone back to normal did Aziraphale finally release the tension in her shoulders.

“I apologize for startling like that,” she began, wringing her hands together, looking at the floor. “I thought it might have been…”

“Yeah, me too,” Crowley agreed, sharing the mutual concern that their sides could pop in and check on them anytime they pleased, no warning necessary. “But it’s alright, even if they had shown up, it’s not like we were doing anything… bad.” She waved her hands struggling to come up with an explanation. “Not… not cavorting with the enemy or something like that. I mean, that’s what we’d tell them at least, right?”

“Yes, yes, if we said that I’m sure we’d be…. We’d be fine.” Aziraphale bit her lip, still staring hard at the ground. Crowley stood absolutely still, waiting for her to speak again. Eventually, unable to bear the silence any longer, Crowley asked the biggest question currently plaguing her psyche[5].

“Angel… what was that just now?”

Aziraphale’s eyes snapped up to meet hers, wide and frightened.

No, not… frightened, Crowley thought with a frown. Worried?

“I… I missed you,” Aziraphale said, voice nothing more than a whisper. If it weren’t for Crowley’s demonic senses, she probably wouldn’t have been able to hear her. As it was, Crowley did hear, and her mouth dropped open in shock.

“You… what?” she asked, just as quietly.

“I said…” Aziraphale trailed off, bit her lip, looked everywhere but at Crowley, then focused back onto the demon and took a large breath. “I said that I missed you, Crowley. A-And I’ve realized that I tend to miss you whenever we’re apart.”

Crowley made a sound without any consonants, taking a small step back in shock. Crowley had felt the same way for a long time[6], but wasn’t sure that it was a mutual feeling. She’d gotten used to the unrequited pining over the years, and even when there had been vague hints that Aziraphale might feel the same way, they were quashed by talk of “sides” and “hereditary enemies.” By this point, Crowley had resolved to seeing every opportunity she spent with Aziraphale as a sort of ironic blessing, cursed to covet the thing she wanted most but unable to ever have it.

The fact that Aziraphale might feel the same way was not a possibility Crowley thought existed outside of her own mind.

“I’m… I’m just as surprised by this revelation as you are,” Aziraphale said, playing with the ring on her right hand nervously. “And I understand if you don’t reciprocate the feeling—you’re certainly under no obligation to, and—”

“Oh Angel—Angel no!” Crowley exclaimed, realizing that Aziraphale had taken her backwards step for a rebuff. She quickly closed the gap between them[7] and took Aziraphale’s hands, stopping their nervous fidgeting. The angel looked up at her, and now there definitely was fear in her eyes. But, surprisingly, it wasn’t fear of Heaven’s wrath—it was fear of something else that Crowley was all too familiar with, but entirely unprepared for seeing on her angel’s face.

Aziraphale thought that Crowley might reject her.

Aziraphale. Thought that Crowley. Might reject her.

At this utterly unfathomable thought, Crowley began to laugh. It was a wild, unruly sound, making her body shake and tears build at the corners of her eyes, though she couldn’t tell if they were from the ridiculousness of the situation or from her own worries being reflected back at her. Aziraphale watched her, mouth agape, before snatching her hands back and turning away.

“Well, how rude! If you’re just going to make fun of me, I’ll be on my way—”

“Aziraphale… Aziraphale wait!” Crowley exclaimed through gasping breaths. She’d heard a tremor in the angel’s voice, and that certainly wouldn’t do. She reached out and caught Aziraphale’s sleeve, making the angel whip around and yank her arm away, holy fire burning in her eyes.

“Crowley, I swear to the Almighty, I’m not in the mood for you to—”

“I missed you too, you daft angel!”

At this confession, the entire world seemed to still. Crowley had stopped laughing, all humor at the situation snuffed out after the realization that Aziraphale might actually walk away for good. The demon stood limply, face unsure of what expression it should wear, and even the noise of the party had ceased as they gazed at each other.

“Crowley… did you stop time?” Aziraphale questioned, sparing a glance through the doors to see the humans frozen in place. Crowley’s eyes darted to the sky, and over the top of the glasses Aziraphale could just barely make out that her irises were completely golden.

“Sorry, I just… couldn’t deal with all that noise for this conversation,” Crowley admitted. She heard Aziraphale’s light chuckle and found another one of those beaming smiles when she met the angel’s gaze.

“My dear, I…,” Aziraphale began again, but for once it seemed as if she were unable to think of what to say.

“Angel,” Crowley began, deciding to take her chance. It was now or never. She paused for a few seconds, gathering her thoughts as best she could, then cleared her throat. “Aziraphale… I missed you, too. I always miss you when you’re not around. I’m… not sure how to describe it, only that it feels like there’s a part of me that’s lost whenever we’re apart. I, um… I understand if you don’t feel the same way, but it seems like you do, y’know, since you brought it up first, so I-I thought I’d just… lay it all out there.”

“Oh Crowley,” Aziraphale said softly, and this time her fingers did actually brush Crowley’s cheek. Crowley instinctively nuzzled into Aziraphale’s palm, realizing a moment too late that this physical affection might be unwanted—might be too much, too fast. But, when she tried to pull away Aziraphale quickly placed her other hand behind Crowley’s head, grasping her hair gently but firmly enough to keep her in place. Suddenly, their faces were closer than they’d ever been. Crowley could feel Aziraphale’s breath against her lips and for once in her long, long existence, she decided to make a move before questioning it first.

Aziraphale’s lips were even softer than expected. She tasted faintly of wine and sweets, but mostly of Aziraphale. Crowley remained still as a statue, waiting for the angel to reciprocate before moving forward. After only a moment’s hesitation, Aziraphale was kissing Crowley back, softly at first and then fiercely, possessively. The swipe of a forked tongue against her lips made Aziraphale moan, the sound traveling straight to Crowley’s core.

It was eons before they parted, and it was only because Crowley’s grip on time began to slip as the emotions overwhelmed her, crashing through her mind a sea that ebbed and flowed and screamed:

This is real.

No, this can’t be real.

Actually yes, this is definitely real.

When they tried to break away, they found themselves more tangled than anticipated. Astoundingly, they were still upright, though if Aziraphale were tipped back any farther she would need the help of a miracle to keep her on her feet. Their hair was awry, random pieces pulled free of the carefully-crafted up-dos as hands had grabbed and tugged and held on. Crowley made sure Aziraphale was stable before snapping her fingers; their hair and rumbled dresses righted themselves and time restarted, the noise of the party drowning out the last of their panting, recovering breaths.

“…Well,” Crowley said eventually, sparing Aziraphale a side-eyed grin as they watched the humans inside. Her glasses has gotten knocked off somewhere in the middle of all the kissing, and with another snap they appeared back in her hand. She tucked them in the middle of her bodice, noting Aziraphale’s pleased little smile at this action. “You certainly weren’t the person I was supposed to tempt tonight, but I can’t say I’m complaining.”

“Oh, stop it, you wily serpent,” Aziraphale chided, giving Crowley’s arm a light smack, though there was no malice behind it. A sudden thought occurred to Crowley and she grasped Aziraphale’s hands again, squeezing them to get her full attention.

“That was a joke; you know I’d never actually tempt you, right?” Crowley’s eyes were full of sincerity, and Aziraphale nodded.

“I know, darling,” she replied, then tilted her head questioningly as Crowley made another unintelligible noise.

“You’ve… never said that one before.” Crowley blushed, eyes darting to the side. “’Darling,’ I mean. ‘S always ‘dear’ or ‘dear girl’ or… or sssome variation of that.”

Aziraphale smiled so radiantly that Crowley felt she were staring straight into the sun.

“I think with what you just initiated, the least I can do is give you another term of endearment meant only for you,” Aziraphale said, reaching up to caress Crowley’s face again, and the demon melted at the touch.

“So, um…,” Crowley said after a time, reluctant to let the moment pass but knowing that there was a lot to address. “What, uh… what does this mean for… us? I mean, that was amazing, what we just did, and I’d very much like to do it again, but I don’t want to, um… misinterpret things?”

As Crowley had expected since the first press of their lips together, familiar doubt began to creep back into her mind. Aziraphale was a hedonist, and both of them knew it. Crowley didn’t want to misunderstand these actions as more than they were and needed to know if Aziraphale simply wanted to add more physical intimacy to their relationship, or if this was something more—something that Crowley once thought might have been impossible, but now wasn’t so sure.

“Well, what did it mean for you, Crowley?” Aziraphale asked, holding the demon’s gaze steadily. Crowley let out a huff and pressed a quick kiss to Aziraphale’s palm.

“That’s a loaded question, angel.”

“You asked it first.”

“…Right.” Crowley took a deep breath and reached up to cover the warm hand on her face with her own. “I think it means we have a lot to talk about, and we should probably talk about it tonight, or we might lose our nerve.”

“I agree.” Aziraphale gave another beaming smile and then took her hand back, clasping both in front of her waist. “I’m staying in a rather nice little place nearby; it’s quiet and would be a perfect place to talk. You’re more than welcome to stay the evening, if you’d like.”

“Oh my, Angel, are you asking me back to yours?” Crowley said, wiggling her eyebrows, but the hungry look in Aziraphale’s eyes made the rest of the jibe die on the tip of her tongue[8].

“It seems as though I am, doesn’t it?” the angel responded primly, and at that moment Crowley was certain Aziraphale knew exactly what she was doing to her. Before Crowley could freeze time again and suggest they have whatever “conversation” they were going to have right there and then, Aziraphale held up a hand with a laugh. “Patience, demon. Do you have a job to do tonight, or were you merely visiting the party? Oh, dear, I never even asked that earlier, did I?”

“Sssod the job,” Crowley replied, a hiss slipping out unintentionally. “It’s not top priority; Hell won’t mind if I get the paperwork in a few days late. What about you?”

“I finished my assignment earlier this evening; I was just trying to enjoy a few more of those delectable pastries they’re serving before I left, when that man decided to strike up a conversation.” Aziraphale rolled her eyes. “Honestly, the audacity of some people.”

“Mm,” Crowley hummed in affirmation, the exaggerated once-over she gave Aziraphale now completely obvious without the protective shading of her sunglasses. The angel instantly flushed crimson, the color starting high in her cheeks and swiftly rushing down to her chest. Crowley bit back a strangled noise. “Right, let’s get back to your place because there are a lot of things I want to say and also a lot of things I want to do—provided you’re amenable, of course.”

“Oh, I think I’d be quite amenable for what you may have in mind,” Aziraphale responded, and to Crowley’s utter astonishment, she actually winked. Then, suddenly, she began walking back towards the doors leading into the party, sparing a glance over her shoulder as she called: “Come along, darling!”

As always, Crowley was helpless to resist. Without hesitation, she followed her angel into a night of long-held confessions and a happiness that never seemed to end.

***

[1] Not that she truly had a choice in the matter, anyway. The job would get done regardless, and if Crowley wasn’t able to accomplish the task, another demon would be sent in her place and she would have literal hell to pay for her failure. [Return to text]

[2] She knew Aziraphale was perfectly capable of handling herself in most situations, but the flash of anger was so sudden and primal that Crowley was unable to stop it. [Return to text]

[3] Bordering on dangerous for Aziraphale—Crowley couldn’t imagine how she had even gotten into the dress, let alone how she was keeping everything in place. She reasoned a miracle must be at play. [Return to text]

[4] As best she could, for they’d been increasingly hard to get rid of as the years wore on. [Return to text]

[5] She knew this was probably the stupidest decision she’d ever make, but she couldn’t stop herself. Crowley had never been known to shy away from tough questions, after all. [Return to text]

[6] Since Eden, if she was being honest. [Return to text]

[7] As much as she could with those damned dresses… she longed for the time large, unwieldy skirts went out of fashion, and vowed to burn every single one on that day. [Return to text]

[8] It was one of Aziraphale’s many famished looks Crowley had seen when they’d dined together. This one was fairly rare, and reserved for her absolute favorite meals—a dark desire peeking out of sky blue eyes that nearly sent Crowley over the edge when coupled with Aziraphale swiping her tongue expectantly across her lips and then moaning into her dessert. Crowley had occasionally wondered what it would feel like to be on the receiving end of this captivating gaze, but, as with everything else that happened that evening, wasn’t actually prepared for it to happen. [Return to text]

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #aziraphale/crowley #ineffable wives #ineffable wives exchange #ineffable wives gift exchange #ineffable-wives-central #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #romance #humor #footnotes #phantomhivemast3r

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gorillazgal86 · 4 years

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Five Fave Fics

@improfem very kindly tagged me! Thank you darling!

Rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 favourite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you’ve brought into the world. tag as many writers/artists/etc as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

I’m tagging: @improfem (now you’re tagged XD), @hiphopanonymousao3 , @focusfixated, @coloursflyaway , @marveliciousfanace

[Podfic] Sorrow and Sighs and Mickle Care (Explicit -- CHECK THE TAGS!!!)

Based on Vitreous_Humor’s fic, I am crazy proud of this podfic and it was such a different characterisation for Crowley/Aziraphale and I LOVED voicing the original demon character, Medoc (with whom I harbour a probably unhealthy obsession).

Summary: It wasn't fair, he thought. It wasn't fair that Aziraphale could give him everything he wanted, everything he had hoped and dreamed of and longed for for six thousand years and that Crowley couldn't do the same. No, not couldn't.Was refused.And Satan, did Crowley hate being refused.---Aziraphale's a sadist, Crowley's not a masochist, and Crowley comes up with possibly the worst solution for this issue.

Bird of Paradise (Explicit, co-written with @improfem)

While I have so thoroughly enjoyed writing all the Plenteous Crop series and the exploration of the complex emotions behind love and sex that the series has hinged on, this one really stuck with me. I am fascinated by the push and pull and simmering jealously and frustration Crowley and Aziraphale feel and that coming together isn’t always a smooth or straight line and not even an angel or demon are above their baser instincts and raw emotion. I can’t speak more highly enough of my wonderful co-author and I’m continuously amazed at what we’ve been able to create together, it’s a real blessing to have someone I click with creatively.

Summary: "Crowley has no right to barge into his space like this, looking exactly as he does, the perfectly form fitting band of the trousers, slung far too low to be considered decent only drawing attention to those perfectly slim hips. So Aziraphale tears his eyes away from the sight, focusing instead on the shelf of books behind Crowley. //Vile tempter,// Aziraphale thinks, certain that Crowley is finding this role very amenable indeed, there were certainly more difficult ways to earn a soul, than traipsing about as a sultan's favourite, spoiled and pampered, adored beyond what was reasonable."

[Podfic] Pray for Us, Icarus (Teen+)

This is based on @brightwanderer‘s absolutely exquisite (and in my opinion, required reading for Good Omens fandom) series was the first big podfic project I took on and I learned so much over the course of the 7 stories about what I could do as a performer and narrator. It was a complete change in tone from what I’d typically record and my only regret is I hadn’t fully smoothed out my audio set up and it deserved better from a technical standpoint. I may go back and “remix” it at some point.

Summary: For three centuries, Crowley has been reincarnated over and over as a human with no memory of his past. Aziraphale has tried to find a way to restore him to his true self, but all he seems to do is hurt them both. This time, he only means to steal a brief moment when he walks into Crowley's flower shop. But Crowley can't let it go...

Birds (General Audiences)

Oh this little sleeper of a fic. There are great elements of this that were quite personal, the first 3 years of my own relationship were long distance (US to UK kinda distance) and those days are blessedly far behind me, this was playing around with what that was like through Aziraphale’s eyes and the little habits and routines one can get into to distract from the missing part of yourself.

Summary: It was easiest when time and circumstance had put considerable distance between himself and Crowley. The angel would develop a routine and as years turned to decades and decades to centuries, the serpent-shaped hole in his life would grow smaller and easier to plaster over. It was when the demon stormed into his existence unexpectedly, ripping open the wound that hadn’t quite stitched together, that the illusion of satisfaction at Crowley’s absence slipped rapidly away.

[Podfic] let the rivers fill (Explict)

This is my first podfic, based on @focusfixated‘s gorgeous fic. I hadn’t recorded anything before this, ever, picked up a cheap microphone and got to work in working out how to edit audio. It’s the only time thus far I’ve included music, which added significantly to the learning curve. @focusfixated was so supportive and encouraging and really drove home how important author support is when recording podfic (by no means required, but it made the experience so much more for it). This is another one I’d love to remix now that I’m considerably more clever with editing. This one will have a special place always.

Summary: “Darling,” Aziraphale answered. “I’m here.” His hand stroked through Crowley’s hair, teasing out the snarls of red that tangled around his fingers, matted with sweat and knotted where Crowley had thrashed his head against the pillows. “Can you turn over for me, love?”Weakly, Crowley’s eyes flickered down, and he saw the angel blushing, as if now, suddenly, of all things, he had succumbed to reticence. He was sat back on his knees, and the soft accordion folds of him were dewy with sweat and moonlight. His heart constricting somewhere in his useless chest, Crowley turned over, and spread his legs.

#five fave fics #my fics #my podfic #good omens #inffable husbands #self rec fics #proud

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